Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5530874.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      PWP, Smut, Weecest, Blow_Jobs, just_summer_afternoons, Incest_Kink,
      Kinda?
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-25 Words: 1789
****** The only thing that matters ******
by RossKL
Summary
     "Dad wouldn't approve."
     "Dad would tear us apart."
Notes
     Just some weecest smut.
     Merry Christmas, y'all ♥
 
T-shirts on the floor, ruffled sheets on a queen bed, and the only sounds in
the room were wet breaths and sloppy kisses.
The hot sun of a summer afternoon was illuminating the whole room, making it
way too suffocating, and yet Sam and Dean couldn’t tear apart, not even the
slightest. They kept moving, Sam under Dean, lips on each other’s, mouth on
mouth, tongues interlaced, Dean’s hands on the bed and on Sam’s neck and Sam’s
hands roaming on his brother’s bare back.
They had been bickering over who should choose what to watch in TV, and soon
Sam was on Dean, on his knees, trying to crawl over Dean’s body to reach for
the remote control in his brother’s hand, arm stretched out of the couch,
trying to keep Sam from grabbing it.
The closeness and the laughter and the tickling and the too-close breaths had
soon overcome the two of them, and things had started to slow down. The hands
on Dean’s body weren’t trying to reach the remote control anymore, they were
lingering slower and slower on his brother’s torso, his neck, his shoulder,
eyes on eyes that had soon changed the target of their gazes, favoring opened
and appealing mouths — the green and hazel of their eyes was too intense, too
bright in the lights of the mid-afternoon sun.
The remote control had lied forgotten on the floor, and they were kissing,
slowly moving on each other, and it took something like five minutes and a
knowing glance to move matters somewhere else.
Wet kisses were the protagonists of the room now, their chests brushing
together over and over again, both of them trying to ignore the sultriness in
order to prevent sweating too much.
Dean was moving steadily on his brother, friction way too little to be
satisfying, layers of clothes getting in the way of what they really wanted,
needed.
Under Dean, Sam was making little whines every once in a while, trying to touch
everything and more, trying to bring his brother closer. He trailed his hands
down Dean’s back again, feeling the flexing of his muscles under his hands, and
he couldn’t stop himself from lowering them ever more, slipping them under
Dean’s jeans and grabbing his ass.
“Sam,” Dean groaned into his mouth. He felt Sam huff a laugh, and when he
squeezed his hands, Dean replied with a stronger thrust. He opened his eyes
just in time to see Sam’s eyes roll, a sharp intake of breath under him, and he
smirked, moving his mouth down on Sam’s neck and keeping it there.
Dean shifted his weight on his forearms, keeping them next to Sam, and started
sucking on his brother's neck, thrusting into him again, making him moan, a
little victory for Dean – Sam was quiet during sex, quieter than Dean at least,
and every moan and groan and whimper and whine that he could steal from him was
a victory.
“Dean, don’t,” Sam huffed under his breath.
“Why not, Sammy?” Dean asked rhetorically. “Why can’t I leave a mark on your
untouched, beautiful neck?” A lick followed these words, making Sam shiver, and
Dean had his limits, and seeing Sam under him was quickly breaking one of them.
“Please, Dean, stop,” he hurried, trying to take his neck away from Dean’s
mouth and not moving his hands from where they were, failing miserably.
“I love your neck,” Dean murmured, biting just so – he really didn’t want to
leave a mark on Sam’s neck where it would be visible and explain it to dad.
Sam gave Dean’s ass one last squeeze, then he lifted his hands away and grabbed
Dean’s head, moving it so that they were facing each other, eyes on eyes and
damn, they were dark with lust and hunger.
Before Dean could attack Sam again, Sam used Dean’s delay of moving to roll
over and pin him on the bed, his turn of attacking Dean’s mouth now.
He moved lasciviously over him, hands everywhere, not bothering to keep himself
from graving on Dean – he wanted to feel him. He spent minutes just exploring
his whole mouth, slowly and thorough, before moving to his neck and sucking
like he meant it.
Dean’s eyes snapped open. “Sam,” he warned breathless, his hands grabbing his
head and lifting it.
Sam grinned at him. “What, Dean, you don’t like it?” He asked.
Dean groaned. “You little bitch, you know I do,” he replied.
“Dad wouldn’t approve...” Sam said, grinning wider, freeing himself from Dean’s
grasp and lowering himself.
“Dad would tear us apart,” Dean followed Sam’s line of saying, eyeing his
brother. When he figured what he was going to do, he let his head fall back on
the pillow, relaxing his whole body. Just waiting.
“And you wouldn’t dare disobeying him, disappointing him, would you?” Sam
asked, his hands freeing his brother from his jeans and boxers. He stopped only
to see Dean shiver, completely loose beneath him, and the sight made things one
thousand times worse in his pants.
“Sam,” Dean muttered, Sam’s words hitting him like a bomb, making his insides
twist and crumpling, knowing how wrong it was and yet not trying, hell, not
even wanting to stop what they were doing, not ever.
Sam enjoyed the sight of his brother loose and waiting under him just a moment
more knowing that it wouldn’t last long, then he shifted his attention to his
brother’s dick, standing proud and full before him, just begging for some kind
of friction.
Sam’s mouth watered as he lowered himself on it, hands on Dean’s hipbones and
his scent, God, he could do this all day every day and never get tired. He
closed his hand around Dean's dick, humming just so and digging his thumbs into
the flesh beneath him. He sucked the head lightly, teasing Dean as he watched
his face, noticing the way his hands grasped the sheets in an attempt not to
grab his head and shove forward. His brother's eyes were on him, mouth hanging
open and he was sighing, trying to get him move faster with his gaze only.
Sam looked away, the sight making every drop of blood rush downward, and he had
to rub against the bed to alleviate the pressure in his groin. Another moan
escaped his throat, and Dean’s hips bucked forward, grunting over him.
Sam knew when to tease his brother and when not to, and he recognized the signs
that meant Dean was soon going to take control, so he took whatever he could
into his mouth, going down the more he could without gagging, and started to
suck in earnest, trying to make the most out of it while Dean was still under
him.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Sammy,” he groaned, hands gripping Sam’s hair without
even commanding them to. He tightened them into his brother’s hair, trying not
to shove forward, while Sam continued sucking and licking. His hands were still
digging into his hipbones, hard, and the wonderful sting made things even
better for him.
Sam loved the way Dean wasn’t silent. He returned his eyes on his brother’s
face, eyes locking in each other, and started bobbing up and down, loving to
feel Dean’s hands pulling in his hair.
“Sam,” Dean grunted, and he couldn’t hold back anymore, pushing Sam’s head
forward. Sam never went at it like he meant it, and the way he was moaning
around his cock made his brain melt into a puddle for very long moments.
Sam tried the best he could to keep going without gagging, even when Dean
pushed him down, recognizing his frantic movements before we would take
control.
Not long after Dean was pulling his brother away from his cock, still moaning
Sam’s name over and over, but not wanting it to be over that soon.
With a wet pop, Sam’s mouth left Dean’s cock. He stared into Dean’s eyes as he
licked his lips, humming slightly at the taste of his brother’s cock still into
his mouth.
Dean groaned, grabbing Sam’s hair tight and moving him upwards, only to make
him clash with himself, mouth forcing his way into his brother’s, licking his
insides nice and thoroughly, while he did short work to free Sam from his
shorts and boxers.
Once naked, Sam lied himself out on his brother completely, smirking while
kissing him. He started to thrust up to him, making their cocks slide together,
Dean's spit slicked one making everything smoother.
Dean groaned and grabbed Sam's hips, trying to stop his languorous movements.
At the attempt, Sam thrust up harder, and Dean lost it. He growled, grabbing
his brother's small hips and reversing easily their positions again.
Sam stared into his eyes, lied bare and open underneath him, lips parted,
panting a little at the force of Dean's movements.
Dean smiled softly, brushing Sam's lips, and then moved forward, crawling up
and up over Sam, until his dick was lined to his brother's mouth. Sam's eyes
widened and relaxed himself, opening his mouth wider, waiting for his brother's
cock.
Dean didn't wait more, and showed his cock deep down his brother's throat,
watching him taking it so easily - over practiced, Sam's over practiced and
it's just because of himself.He soon lost his rhythm, lost in sensations, and
his brother's little chocked noises only turned him on more, and more.
One hand on Sam's lips wrapped around his length, one hand wrapped around his
throat, and Dean thrust once more, twice, hard, and came, stilling himself over
Sam, feeling him swallow everything and chocking on it, and it took almost
every strength not to collapse on his little brother.
He shifted from over Sam, his mind still a bit numb, and he came down on him,
taking his brother in his mouth and sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks and
jerking him at the same time, and Sam trashed under him. Dean moaned, placing
one hand on Sam's hips to make him still, and his brother whimpered a little
and came, hands in Dean's hairs and eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.
Dean swallowed and smirked, lifting himself from Sam's lower body. He crawled
up and took Sam's head in his hands, bringing their lips together. He licked
his mouth, not really kissing but tasting, and Sam melted under him, holding
him closer to his chest.
Dean held his brother tight, trying fuse them together, and there, just like
that, no one else mattered. Not their father, not their friends, not their
shitty lives made just of moving around and hunting things.
The two of them were the only thing that mattered, and they both knew it.
They were complete.               
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