Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5101424.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Brother/Brother_Incest, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Rimming, Kissing,
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Explicit_Language, Underage_Kissing, Daddy_Kink,
      Bottom_Dean, Alcohol
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-29 Words: 4830
****** Too Hot To Stop ******
by SmackTheDevil
Summary
     Another 'how it all began' perspective of the world that is Wincest!
Sam Winchester had been away for a couple of days visiting old friends from
Stanford. His brother Dean had stayed behind in the latest motel they had
stopped at, he was enjoying being grounded for a few days. His reasons for this
ranged from 'no hunting hangovers' to 'doing what the hell I want'. Sam
couldn't argue with that because it described Dean in a nutshell.
His initial plan was for a two-night stay after which he would return back to
the motel to meet Dean. His plans however changed and his trip had been cut
short a day. He was certain Dean wouldn't mind his returning early.
On the morning before Sam came back, Dean was nursing a hangover from hell.
There was a strange woman in his bed and one of his shoes was missing. He was
pretty sure he didn't have sex with this woman and made sure she was quickly
evicted from the premises. He found his shoe on the porch outside as she was
leaving.
Dean stood in the shower, his head down with a hand pressed against the avocado
green tiles. He felt like shit. His head was banging and he was just about
ready to barf over his feet. The night before was gradually becoming clearer
and he soon realized his reason for feeling so sick was because of the creamy
liquor shots the strange woman had been feeding him. He remembered how many he
had and threw up in the shower.
By lunchtime, he was feeling a lot clearer. The fuzziness of the night before
had faded and he was feeling more like himself. So much so, he decided to use
Sams' laptop for a bit of self-love. Fingers hovering over the keyboard he
chewed the inside of his mouth. He couldn't decide what he was in the mood for.
Girl-on-girl? Threesome? Nah. He rubbed his fingers together as if to prepare
them for what he was about to type.
“Jesus Christ, what am I doing?” It didn't stop him searching for cock boys and
almost immediately upon entering the website he felt that little surge of
carnal wants bolt through his body. He casually scrolled through video after
video. It was annoying him that he was being so choosy about it but deep down,
deep deep down, he knew exactly what he was in the mood for. Something young,
something preppy, something golden, something brunette, something with cheek
dimples, something with an ass you could stand a beer bottle on. Oh man. He
lowered his standards and settled upon a video of some slender twink on his
knees waiting to be split in half by an older guy with what Dean thought was
the thickest dick he had ever seen.
He set the laptop the down between his now open, relaxed legs. He had gotten
himself into one of those impossibly comfortable positions where if you move,
you can never get back that level of comfort. He needed lube so improvised and
spat into the palm of his hand and then thought how awesome it would be if he
could suck himself off. Sexual contortion aside, he set about the literal task
in hand. He hit play and skipped the first few minutes just to get to the
actual fucking. His cock was wet with spit, not ideal but he wasn't looking for
anything fancy, just a straight up wank and be done with it.
He leaned back and watched, dick in hand, stroking lazily but not really
feeling it. He felt frustrated and wondered if perhaps watching two nubile
blondes eating one another out might have been a more productive idea. He
slammed the laptop shut and leaned back further, keen to just use his
imagination and get himself off nice and quick and get on with his day.
“C'mon, Dean. Sweep that mind for filth.” He closed his eyes, tipped his head
back and let out a whimper. “Fuck, man.”
He laid his spare arm over his eyes as his dick throbbed in his fist. Sam was
there, kneeling between Deans' legs. He was begging Dean for sex. Sam was
flirting with him something awful. He sucked on his fingers and bounced on the
bed like a naughty kid not getting his own way.
“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. You know you want to. You've always wanted to.
You're dirty, thinking about your baby brother that way. And then making him
call you Daddy, all the while you screw his tight hole.”
Dean was wanking hard now. Groaning with displeasure at the thoughts in his
mind and how they were having a twisted effect. So fucking hard and punching
out thick stringy pre-come like he was manufacturing it for the rest of the
male population. Sam was still there, on his back now, finger fucking his hole
and then offering his fingers to his brother.
“Go on, taste it. It'll get you off real quick, big brother.”
He had gone past 'porn' guilt now and was convinced in his erotically hijacked
mind that when Sam got back from Stanford he would fuck him into the middle of
next week and spunk over his face.
“Fuck, Sammy. You, you're a dirty little bitch. Fuck, tell Daddy, Sammy.
Tell...tell...Sam. Sammy!” And that just about did it. He came so hard he made
himself jump. It was that kind of orgasm that makes you want to vomit. He felt
his jizz run over his fist, he was still turned on, so he swapped hands and
milked his softened dick while he licked the creamy load from his fingers. “Oh
God.” It was a mixture 'Oh my God, I'm so fucking turned on' and 'Oh my God,
I'm a criminal deviant.'
“Having fun?”
Dean paused for a moment, tongue curled over his bottom lip. It was fine, he
was hearing things. No, he wasn't. He opened one eye and then slowly retracted
his spunk laced tongue into his mouth. He tried his best 'I ain't doing
nothing' face, but Sam had seen and heard pretty much everything that had been
going on in Deans' motel bed.
“How long you been standing there? Why didn't you say anything?” Dean barked.
“Because I couldn't, Dean. I was too busy finally realizing you feel the same
way too.”
Dean hesitated. Unsure.
“Really?”
“No. Not really. It's not one of those sick fan fiction stories, Dean. God,
you're a pervert.”
Dean wiped his still jizzed on hand on the bed sheets.
“I am not. You telling me, you ain't ever gone a little nuts and looked at some
crazy porn, just to get you off?”
Sam marched over to the bed upon seeing his now sticky laptop.
“No, I don't actually. And oh my God, Dean. You got your sperm on my laptop!”
“Well, that pretty much explains why I get laid more than you.”
Dean stood up, dick swinging and still leaking come. He wasn't embarrassed,
more annoyed that Sam was being all Holier Than Thou and preachy.
“I don't get laid as much, Dean. Because I have standards.”
“Yeah well, I ain't ashamed to admit that I kinda hit rock bottom with my
standards this afternoon.”
Sam gasped.
“That was low, Dean.”
“Seriously, call me Dean one more time and I swear to God. I'm the only other
person in the Goddamn room, you don't have to say my name every time you speak
to me!”
Sam huffed and handed his laptop to his brother, face grimacing and turning
away slightly.
“Clean it.”
“Fine.” Dean snatched it away from him. “Why you back so early anyway?”
“We have a case. So I thought I'd come and get you. But it seems you're busy
enough with whatever you were doing.”
“It's called masturbating, you old woman. Never mind what got me off. We'll
forget it. Okay?”
“Fine. I suppose I can let it go.”
Dean used his bed sheet to clean Sams' laptop, he knew Sam would not be fine
with it, but he was beyond caring and keen to find out about the case.
Sam politely took his laptop from his brother who was still naked. He sat at
the table in the corner of the room and beckoned Dean over.
"Check this out, Dean."
Dean raised his eyebrows and smiled to himself then joined Sam at the table
wincing as his junk hit the cold plastic seat of the chair.
"You're not getting dressed then?"
"Nah, you just watched me get off over your laptop screaming your name, I think
my naked body is the least of our concerns."
"Sure. Anyway, check this."
Dean chuckled, helping himself to a beer from the six-pack on the table. Warm
yes, but he suddenly felt the need to play another little game with himself. As
Sam chatted away in the background Dean created The Sam Winchester Drinking
Game in his head but still remembering to nod and smile in the right places
while Sam talked (and talked) One chug for 'Dean', two chugs for 'Check this'
(and variations) and three chugs for a sigh.
By the time Sam had finished with details about a possible vampire nest in the
next state, Dean had drunk two bottles of beer and was about to open his third.
"Dean, you need to slow down."
Dean looked at his brother, took one chug and smiled weakly at him. Then
thought he should have added four chugs for 'henpecking'.
"Yeah, but there is more than enough time to drink two beers when someone has
been talking for twenty thousand years."
"So, when shall we leave?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother's sarcasm.
"I've been drinking."
"I'll drive."
"We'll go in the morning. I ain't leaving now, it's a long drive and I missed
out on my post-coital nap."
"It wasn't sex, Dean."
"An orgasm, is an orgasm is an orgasm Sammy." He was slurring his words and
took another chug. "Wanna get wasted?"
Sam shook his head, screwing up that impossibly perfect nose.
“Go on, we ain't done anything like that for a long time. Please?”
"Will you promise not to hit on me?"
"No." Dean was serious, not a single muscle in his face moved to denote a
hidden laugh.
Sam still thought he was kidding, so laughed, albeit nervously and sipped on
his beer.
"Why are you laughing?"
"I'm laughing at your joke."
"What joke?" Dean arched one eyebrow slowly. He knew things had gotten weird.
Again. But he found out something about himself today. And felt that it needed
attention, so that meant testing the water. Truth is, it had been the first
time he had searched for cock boys on the internet. He knew he wasn't gay nor
was he bisexual. But it wasn't the first time he had thought about Sam when he
jerked off, it perhaps was about the one-hundredth time which probably
explained why he was being so nonchalant about Sam walking in on him yelling
his name in ecstasy.
He thought he might as well tell him. At least until the beers had gone and
they had both moved onto the hard stuff. Sam was a difficult nut to crack. He
wasn't a Eunuch, but he wasn't or didn't seem to have any sexual perversions.
When Dean thought about it, he realized that he hadn't even got anywhere near
stumbling in on Sam masturbating or even watching porn.
Was he really going to hit on his brother? Especially after Sam had explicitly
stated that he, Dean, was a pervert. He had always thought Sam to be kind of
cute. And also, quite virginal. Dean always shuddered to himself on the
countless occasions he had thought that about his little brother. It generally
started off innocently. Thinking about how shiny his hair was. His cute ass
which stuck out like it was some kind of invitation to whoever went near it.
The dimples he got when he grinned, Dean just wanted to finger them with his
tongue. And then his long neck, the way he curled his hair behind his ears. The
killer upside down smile. And that innocent aura around him, it slayed Dean.
Dean watched Sam process and then nudged him playfully.
"Hey, I'm kidding." He lied.
One six pack of beers finished and Dean cracked open a bottle of whiskey. Not
expensive but nothing like the old rot gut Bobby drinks. Sam wasn't a huge
whiskey drinker, but he'd had three beers and because of that the word 'no' had
gone awol from his vocabulary.
They moved the fun from the table and chairs to Deans bed. Sheets still
crumpled from his earlier indiscretion. Dean half crawled onto the bed, glass
and liquor in one hand while Sam clumsily stripped down to his boxer briefs,
tripped and then fell on the bed. This caused an episode of hysterical laughter
which was interrupted by their neighbors banging on the wall.
Sam pressed a finger against his lips.
"Shush."
Dean was incredibly loud and the banging neighbors began to yell. Sam leaned
over and placed his hand over his brother's mouth. Dean licked it. Sams' eyes
widen as he peeled his hand away slowly, just as Dean bit at the air between
his mouth and Sams' hand. Nothing happened, but the laughter stopped.
"Get up you freak of nature!" Dean growled.
Dean sat up against the bedhead and the huge pile of pillows that he had been
so comfortable against earlier, making a point to make room for his brother. He
patted the empty space and tried to act as normal as possible. He was swaying
due to the fact that he hadn't eaten all day and the alcohol had gone straight
to his head.
"Dean! I left my glass on the table." Sam huffed and slurred. "Lemme share
yours."
"'kay." Dean poured, and didn't stop almost filling the glass to the brim. He
carefully moved the glass towards Sams' mouth. "Sip it." Sam sipped, but most
of it dribbled down his chest.
Dean barely noticed and inexplicably downed what was the equivalent of about
four fingers.
“I help you, Sammy.” Dean dipped his middle finger into the whiskey and offered
it to Sam. He shook his head. "Go on." Dean teased Sams mouth with the tip of
his finger. "Try it."
Sam was hesitant but Dean was being quite persuasive and he could feel his bare
skin against his own which were causing little electric sparks. He hadn't
gotten laid in a long time and thought that perhaps that was the reason. He
could feel Deans gaze boring into him and sheepishly turned to look at him, he
opened his mouth and drew Deans finger into his mouth with his lips. He sucked
on it gently, most of the whiskey had dripped away leaving a slightly salty
taste in its place. Dean pulled his finger out, dipped it in the glass along
with his forefinger, Sam leaned forward this time and took the fingers into his
mouth quickly. Dean felt a tongue wrap around them.
"Fuck, Sammy." Deans' pulse had begun to race and blood was rushing to his dick
at a quickening pace. Sam tipped his head back with a jerk allowing his
brothers whiskey infused fingers to slide from his mouth. He took the bottle
from Dean and took a long slow chug from it. He swallowed most of it but
retained a little in his mouth. "Sammy, what are you -" Dean jumped as his face
was met with a spray of warm whiskey and a spit mixer. "Did you just spit at
me?" Sam was laughing and leaning toward his brother.
Dean instinctively moved back, swigged from the bottle then totally let Sam at
him, bottle tipping and sloshing over Deans dick. Sam lunged and smirked as
Dean spat his own mouthful of liquor over his brother. Sam pinned him down, a
leg between his thighs grazing against his threatening erection.
"Do you remember that time?"
"Time? Expand?" Dean was crushed under Sams weight unsure whether he was being
taught a lesson or about to have the night of his life.
"When I was 15." Sam laid his entire weight onto Deans body and slid his strong
arms underneath him.
"Fuck Sammy, the hell you playing at? 15. That was a - " And then the penny
dropped. "Shit. Yeah. Yeah, I do."
1998 - SPRING
It had been unusually hot for Springtime. This threatened an even hotter Summer
with endless days listening to rattling old AC units and wallowing in heat
activated boy stench in rancid old motel rooms.
But it was still only spring and brought with it gentle breezes and April
showers, come what may.
The boys had been left for a week, maybe more, at a cabin which belonged to an
old, long since departed hunter friend of their fathers. It was pretty basic
and dusty and was definitely once owned by an old guy, but it was nestled next
to a huge deep lake and woodland that went on for miles and miles.
Not many teenagers would appreciate the isolation, but then not many teenagers
were like Sam Winchester. With John gone again for God knows how long and Dean
hitting up some bar out of town Sam was left to his own devices. He technically
shouldn't have been on his own, but he persuaded Dean to go as he was more than
capable of looking after himself.
It was a beautiful Spring afternoon. Like summer but with that dewy edge in the
air making everything look fresh and new. The lake was literally a few steps
from the cabin porch and after sitting reading for an hour so Sam decided upon
a swim. Alone, so he stripped off and waded into the water. It was clear and
cool and he thought it was one of the most amazing things he had ever done. He
felt like he was the only person in the world. He swam out as far as he could
manage and let himself bob, turning slowly taking in the lush green around him.
The sun warmed his wet hair, the silence and beauty overwhelmed him which
caused him to let out an involuntarily 'whoop' and echoing laughter. He dipped
back under the water and cut through it like a knife back to dry land.
Dean was cursing. John had taken the Impala and left him with some shitty old
pickup. It crunched and grunted and didn't work anywhere near as well as the
Impala did when it came to picking up girls. He pulled up alongside the cabin,
sputtering to a halt.
"Goddamn, piece of shit!" The pickup almost groaned as he switched the engine
off. Dean was in a shitty mood. He was hungover and aching from sleeping in the
car because of the damn piece of crap pickup cock-blocking him. But he had pot,
snacks and the great outdoors to sooth him. Just as he was about to exit the
vehicle he saw him. Sams lithe legs cutting through the clear lake water
completely naked. His normally unruly mop of brown hair was glossy, clinging to
his head. He skin was peppered with droplets of water which sparkled in the low
spring sun.
Dean hadn't realized how tall Sam had gotten, how he had started to fill out.
And man, that ass. He looked almost ethereal like he was glowing. Sam looked
up, huge grin, waving like a maniac. Dean waved back the tiniest wave
imaginable. He exited the pickup and walked over to his brother who was now
wiping himself down with a towel.
"Hey."
"Hey, Sammy. Good swim?"
"Yeah. I love it here.
Dean agreed it was a peaceful juxtaposition to their hunting lives and places
and moments like these needed to be enjoyed.
"Ain't you cold?" Dean's eyes were falling everywhere aside from his brothers
taut body. Sam flicked the damp towel at Deans' legs with an evil little snap.
"I'm fine. Why are you being weird?"
Dean lifted one leg up to dodge the towel.
"Ain't being weird. But, dude you're butt naked. Put something on."
"You have seen me like this loads of times." Sam tied the towel around his
waist.
"Hey. Snacks!" He snatched the bag of junk food from his brother then ran into
the cabin. Dean went after him, laughing and grabbing at the towel. His foot
caught a loose floorboard, his hands reached out and shoved Sam onto the
unforgiving, dusty wooden floor. He landed on him with a painful thud and Sams
head bounced on the floor. There was silence as they assessed injuries, but
neither of them moved a muscle. Dean bit his lip and without a single thought
he kissed his brother hard. Sam pushed at his Deans' arms trying to stop him,
but he kept kissing back. Kissing and pushing, over and over. Alarm bells went
off inside Deans mind. He scrabbled around on the floor, boots gripping the
boards trying desperately to get up and stop himself.
"You'd better shower. You're covered in cabin shit."
And that was it, nothing more happened. It was never discussed nor ever even
thought about, until now.
NOW
“Why did you kiss me that day?”
“I liked what I saw.” Drunken loose lips.
“Do you still?” Sams' hips moved ever so slightly against his brothers, dicks
rutting.
“Yeah.” Dean bit his lip, he was drunk, but there was still a modicum of
clarity about his person. Sam had changed his tune. Earlier he was just 'Sam',
a bit preachy and a bit of a whiny little bitch. But now he was full-on
flirting and Dean wondered for a moment whether it was some elaborate trap but
then you can't fake boners and Sams' was rod-like.
“You know it's morally wrong don't you.” Sam was serious now, but still holding
Dean in quite a firm clinch, his hips still ticking. “You know people go on
talk shows about this kind of stuff and people point and laugh because they're
perverts and sickos? They'd send you to the nuthouse to fix you for wanting to
fuck your little brother.”
Dean raised his eyebrows at Sams' blatant blaming Dean for their current
position. Sam continued.
“It's wrong and dirty, Dean. You're wrong and dirty. You're a fucking filthy
deviant.”
“Yeah, well. I hate to break it you little brother, but everything you're
saying is having the reverse effect.” Dean leaned in and bit on Sams' bottom
lip, tugging it hard away from his face. Sam whined but managed a dirty smirk
as Dean released it.
Sam reached over Deans' head and retrieved the spilled bottle of whiskey, there
was a little remaining which they shared, most of it ran down Deans' neck and
was then sucked up by Sam. Dean grabbed Sams' ass and bucked as his brother
licked and sucked his sticky neck.
“I'm am so nailing you tonight, baby brother.”
Dean wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. In both threatening to fuck his
cute little brother and the actual logistics of anal sex with a man. Sure he
had fucked a few women up the ass but this was different. He thought back to
the brief video of the twink and bear and remembered how he had skipped past
some anal foreplay, so settled with that. He rolled Sam over onto his back and
pulled himself up.
“Up you get. I'm gonna eat me some ass.” Sam just laughed like a maniac, so
very wasted and vulnerable. Oh, Dean Winchester, you're a very bad man. Wasn't
gonna stop him, though. He helped him up and propped his Bambi-like body on all
fours and without an ounce of grace yanked his boxers off until they fell to
his knees. Rimming was new but new was good. And his dick was leaving a long
trail of pre-come over the bed sheets telling him that everything was good and
normal but still so fucking obscene.
He tore Sams' buttocks apart and buried his face between them, licking
repeatedly over his hole with the flat of his tongue. Dean thought about how he
had never tasted anything quite like Sams' asshole. It tasted 'wrong', it was
ass after all, but that was the crux, it was good because it was wrong and
going by Sams' moans, he was doing a pretty good job of it.
“Dean. God, you're so fucking bad.”
Dean laughed against Sams' ass, mainly due to the absurd situation. He pulled
away and sat back on his feet. Sams' hole was open and wet and really something
else.
“Jesus Christ!” Dean had to take a moment. He let go of Sams' ass and almost
ran to the bathroom. Sam, still on all fours, watched his brother streak past
him. The alcohol was adding fuel to the confusion of the entire evening. He got
up, unsteady and bewildered and found Dean perched on the edge of the bathtub.
Still pathetically hard and mouth wet with ass spit.
“What you doing?” Sam slurred. “I was enjoying that.”
“It's just got a little bit weird. And we're very drunk but for once I am
actually putting an end to this madness. Hell, I ain't normally turning down
sex but, Sammy. It's you, baby.” Dean paused, groaning loudly. “See, when the
fuck did I start calling you baby for crying out loud?!”
Sam folded his arms, trying to hide his inebriated state.
“I always wondered why you couldn't keep a girlfriend,” Sam said quietly. “I
always thought it was because you're a slut.”
“I am.” Dean let out a small chuckle. “Are you saying you want this too? I
thought I was a pervert?”
“You are. But hey, I guess it runs in the family, right?” Neither of them was
particularly happy about the conversation. Their initial drunken fondling had
passed and now they were left with the harsh reality.
“I always wondered why you couldn't keep a girlfriend, either. I thought it was
because you were a crap lay.”
“I'm not.”
Dean looked up, Sam hadn't taken offense at what he had just said, but he
wasn't amused either.
“Prove it.” Deans' voice shook as he spoke. He knew, kinda, that they were on
the same page. He thought. He wasn't sure.
It had been a complete blur. Dean was slumped over the bathtub, dick drenched
with come. Sam was sat leaning against the bathroom tiles, his own cock wet
with ass and spunk. They were both panting hard and were utterly spent.
“Where in the hell did you learn to screw like that?!”
Sam laughed, his legs tangled around his brothers, slowly traced a finger
through a puddle of jizz on the bathroom floor.
“Well, when I go to bed. I kinda have trouble sleeping so I have to occupy my
mind.” He paused deliberately.
“And?”
“And,” Sam smirked, his mouth forming that upside smile, hesitant lips ready to
curl about his words. “Oh Dean, tonight was not the first that I have fucked
you into the middle of next week. I have done it so many times in my head. In
reality, baby, you wouldn't be able to walk. I have wrecked your ass in my
dreams. Over and over until you were fucking crying your eyes out. I've made
you come so hard, you've thrown up. I've tied you up, I've spanked you, I've
bitten you and I've sucked your thick, fucking dick until it bled. That is
where I learned to fuck my big brother. So, are you able to stand or would you
like some help?”
Dean laughed, partly out of sheer terror and also shock because apparently his
'innocent baby brother' was a walking Viagra and had caused 'little Dean' to
arise. Again.
“Wow.”
“Is that all? 'Wow'?”
“I mean, uh. It's always the quiet ones, huh?”
“Would you like me to suck that for you?” Sam stood up and nudged Deans' brand
new boner with his toes.
“Yeah?” Dean held a hand up, Sam took it and he was glad because just like the
terrifyingly horny elongated one had just said, he wouldn't be able to walk. It
was true, Deans' legs were like Jell-O and he literally lost his balance. He
had been fucked until he couldn't walk by Sam Winchester. The moral compass of
the Winchester family and salad lover. Sam held his brother around the waist
and walked him back to bed. Deans' head started spinning no sooner as his head
hit the pillows.
“Suck it in the morning. Be my alarm cock.” He chuckled at his own ridiculous
joke. Sam laughed too and snuggled up next to him.
“You're really sexy, Dean.”
“Thank you for clarifying that compliment was for me.”
“Shut up.”
“And, yeah I know.” He opened one eye and looked his brother. “You ain't bad
either. Do you have a brother? Because I bet you get your good looks from him.”
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