Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11988375.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Weecest, Underage_-_Freeform, Bottom_Sam, Top_Dean, forced_to_share_a
      single_bed, Anal_Fingering, Dirty_Talk, Frottage, First_Time, Wet_Dream,
      Oral_Sex, Incest_Kink, Stripping, Phone_Sex, Prostate_Massage, Mutual
      Masturbation, Rimming
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-03 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 6849
****** Wincest Love Week 2017 ******
by NaughtyPastryChef
Summary
     Seven ficlets from wincest love week. Check the tags for additional
     warnings. (personally, sunday is my favorite.)
***** Forced to Share a Single Bed *****
Dean has never had an issue sharing a bed with Sam, not when they were little,
not when they were teenagers, and not now that Sam is on the road with him
again. He loves having the heat of Sam in bed with him. He loves the way those
long limbs move in the night, reassuring him that Sam is right there with him,
breathing and alive. He loves being close enough to hear the tiny, sweet puffs
of air that Sam expels instead of snores. He’s just not sure that Sam feels the
same way.
They’ve been back on the road together for almost a year now and they’re good;
better than they’ve been, really, since before Dean was old enough to legally
buy beer. They still bicker and fight but Sam’s nightmares have stopped and no
one has threatened to take off and leave the other one in months now. There’s
still something that’s keeping them apart; keeping the separate from each
other. It’s not awkward, it’s barely there but it’s a feeling Dean’s got in his
gut and his gut rarely if ever steers him wrong. All of these things pass
through Dean’s head in the space between taking the key from the motel manager
and getting back to the car, where Sam is waiting.
“Uh, looks like we gotta bunk together. One room left, King.” He tosses the key
at Sam and revs up the car, peeling away from the office and heading around to
the end of the building as Sam is strangely quiet.
“Sammy, you okay?” He asks, shutting off the engine and listening to the clicks
as it cools down. He turns sideways to try and read the expression on Sam’s
face or his body language or something, but Sam is doing his best sphinx
impression.
“Yeah, it’s fine Dean, It’s nothing. Let’s get the bags. I need a shower.”
They each shower and Sam runs down the street to pick up dinner, a nice
surprise for when Dean gets finished. They eat in relative, easy silence before
Sam shyly produces a bottle of whiskey he must have grabbed when he picked up
dinner.
“That’s my boy.” Dean exclaims and snatches the bottle out of Sam’s hand,
cracking open the top and taking a long sip from the bottle. Sam laughs and
turns on the tv, flipping through until he finds a re-run of Star Wars with a
happy sigh.
“Oh man, Star Wars, whiskey and my little brother. What could be better?” Dean
asks, draping himself across the king-sized bed with a sigh and patting the
spot next to him as Sam stands awkwardly next to the bed before he shuffles
onto the bed with a shy smile and a hand that reaches out for the bottle.
They pass the whiskey back and forth between them until the movie is over and
into the next one, some eighties movie that neither of them have seen before
and therefore don’t care about.
“Time to hit the hay, Dean?” Sam slurs happily from beside him and Dean turns
to look at his wasted little brother. He nods softly and clicks off the tv and
the lamp by his side of the bed, pulling the covers up over their tangled
together legs.
They each lie down, a king size bed a rare luxury for both of them, even if
they have to share and Dean feels more than hears Sam’s groan of pleasure when
he can stretch out and his feet aren’t hanging off the end of the bed.
Dean’s not sure what wakes him countless hours later. The room is dark and
quiet. Something must have woken him and he tries to roll over to find out what
it was when realization hits him. His arms are curled around Sam’s torso, Sam’s
body a huge line of heat all along his front. He stops a moment and takes stock
of himself; His left arm is trapped underneath Sam but both of his hands are
spread across Sam’s stomach. He notes, with a tiny bit of tired horror, that
his hips are rocking into the perfect globes of Sam’s ass. He tries to stop the
movement but it feels too good, and he can’t make himself do it.
That’s when he notices that Sam’s rocking his hips back into Dean’s. He lets
out a long breath, almost a moan but quieter. He forces his hips to stop but it
only makes Sam’s movements more noticeable.
“Don’t stop.” It’s even less of a sound than his moan, but he can feel the
words through his whole body. His hips pick up their movement again, rocking
harder and faster than they were before. Another moan slips out of his lips
when he feels his cock slot perfectly between Sam’s cheeks. Sam tilts his hips
and, though there’s two layers of soft cotton between them and though he can’t
see it, he knows that his shaft is dragging across Sam’s hole.
“Sammy.” The word is strained, yanked from his vocal cords without his
permission. His hips are going faster now and he knows that he’s going to have
fabric burn on his dick and he can’t care. The darkness of the room and the
relative quiet and the heat under the covers all combines to make this some of
the hottest sex he’s ever had.
“Gonna” He pants, sliding his hands, one up to Sam’s nipple and the other down
to his waistband. He wants Sam to feel as good as he does.
“Do it.” Sam snarls, pressing his hips back hard enough that Dean visualizes a
bruise between Sam’s cheeks as he thrusts forward, hating pajama pants, hating
boxers, hating all clothes between them. He wants to feel more skin, but he
realizes at the last second he doesn’t need it.
Just as his hand slips into Sam’s pants, his sweaty palm cupping over the head
of Sam’s cock, Dean is coming in his pajamas. His neck muscles strain and his
balls throb with the pulse of his orgasm.
“Dean, fuck Dean” he hears, distantly, before his hand is coated in Sam’s
release, sticky and warm but cooling rapidly.
***** Carpet Burns *****
“My fucking knees are killing me.” Dean whined, shaking his legs to get his
pants away from the abraded skin. He looks over just in time to see a leer on
Sam’s face before he turns away. He’s walking even more bowlegged than normal,
trying to ease the ache in his legs. The carpet burn is a nuisance, really,
little more than irritation compared to some of the injuries he’s had in his
life, but there’s something about it today that he can’t just shake off.
“Dean, quit being such a baby. It’s just a little carpet burn, old man.” Sam
jabs and hits his target, just like he always does and Dean snaps.
“Next time you get to get on your knees gigantor.” He winces as he shakes his
legs out again, the rough fabric of the thrift store dress pants causing bright
sparks of pain as he moves.
“You know I can’t fit like that. We’ve tried, remember?” Sam laughs again and
yanks open the door to the impala before he folds his big body in and makes
Dean flush with the knowledge that Sam doesn’t, in fact, fit if he’s the one on
his knees. He marches over to the driver's side and yanks the door open with
force and a mental apology to his baby’s hinges.
“Well I wasn’t the one who’s protein smoothie, or whatever green crap you were
drinking, spilled on the backseat, so I don’t know why I had to be the one to
clean it up before it started to smell.” Dean pouts, forcefully turning the key
in the ignition and putting the car into gear.
“And I wasn’t the one who decided to wear shorts to clean the car or kneel on
the backseat floor carpets. What is with those shorts anyway, auditioning to
see if you can be the next Daisy Duke?”
“Shut up, bitch, you know you love it.” Dean guns the engine down the empty
stretch of road in front of him, but even that isn’t enough to cover Sam’s
reply.
“Whatever, jerk.”
(Bet you thought you were gonna get some porn here, didn’t you? Naughty
naughty)
***** Wet Dream *****
He can barely breathe but he feels amazing. He’s covered in Dean. He’s
smothered by Dean. Dean’s scent is all that he can smell. He can feel the heat
and the bulk of Dean pushing him down into the cheap mattress beneath him. HE
can feel the sweat that is gathering between them and the way that droplets of
it are trickling down across his ribs towards his back. He can feel Dean’s hips
rocking slowly, torturously, inexorably against his own, rubbing their cocks
together and making Sam squeal with pleasure.
“Dee.” He huffs out, needing something, but he doesn’t know what. Dean doesn’t
speak, only smiles his special “Sammy” smile and pulls away.
Sam whimpers, reaching his arms out to try and pull his big brother back down.
Back to where he was covered and safe and enclosed in everything that Dean is
within the cage of Dean’s body. He wants to be held there forever.
All thoughts of forever are driven from his head with the first touch of Dean’s
mouth on his cock. It’s hot, like all of Dean’s other touches. It should be
wet, some distant part of Sam’s mind thinks though he can’t really process the
thought. It feels good, but muffled, like there’s something between his flesh
and Dean’s mouth and so he looks down his sweaty, teenaged body to see what it
could be, but he sees nothing but Dean’s eyes. His green eyes, smiling up at
him and the hint of overly pink lips on his cock when Dean’s head pulls
upwards. He feels the flicker of sensation under the head of his dick and it’s
too much for his teenaged body to take.
With a shout and an arch of his back that should be painful, he comes. It feels
like his brain is shooting out of his dick and he likes it. He can’t help but
think it’s weird, though. He thought Dean would swallow but it feels like Dean
is holding it in his mouth, the way he can feel it smearing across his cock.
He opens his eyes, not knowing when he closed them and immediately, flushes
red. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. His wet dream, for that’s what it
was, took place in the daytime. He could see Dean in the sunlight streaming
through different bedroom windows than the ones on the wall now. He looks over,
across the gap between their beds, and sees instantly that Dean is awake. Sam
is mortified. He slides out of bed, wincing at the cooling come in his pants
and quickly runs a hand over his sheets to see if they need to be changed. When
he feels that they're covered in spunk, his heart sinks. No way could he change
his sheets without Dean noticing.
“Y’okay Sammy?” There’s a hard, rough tinge to Dean’s voice as he asks and Sam,
for all he knows Dean better than he knows himself sometimes, can’t place it.
“I-i-i had a.. I gotta…” He’s choked up with horror and the dawning realization
that he wants the dream to be real so bad that his heart hurts within his
ribcage. He stands, come cooling uncomfortably in his pants, and starts to
shake. His skinny teenaged body too little to deal with the emotions rushing
through him. He jumps when Dean’s arms wrap around him. Dean mutely guides him
over to his own twin bed and pulls the soiled pants off him. He grabs a pair of
his own boxers, too big for Sam’s skinny frame but he makes sam step into them
and pulls them up over Sam’s hips. Then, he guides them both down to the well-
worn mattress.
“Happens to everyone Sammy. My sweet boy, Sammy. You come here, you’re
freezing. Lemme just warm you up.” Dean half-rolls Sam beneath him and Sam,
still lost in emotion and his dream, feels comforted by the action enough that
his eyes drift closed to the sound of Dean crooning in his ears.
***** Going to a Strip Cub Together *****
“Sammy! It’s your birthday! High time,little brother, to enjoy the finer things
in life.” Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and grabbed his leather jacket from
where it lay over a chair in the kitchen. He plucked the keys off the key ring
at the door and stood, waiting, for Sam to catch up.
“Uh, what?” Sam finally managed.
“Your birthday. The big one-eight! C’mon! I got a brand new fake id for you and
a whole day planned.” Dean reached over and grabbed the sleeve of Sam’s shirt
and tugged him towards the door. Sam, dragging his feet at what Dean might have
planned but the prospect of spending the whole day with his big brother was too
enticing to pass up.
“What about school, Dean?” Sam asked as Dean shoved him into the car.
“C’mon, my little brother only turns eighteen once. You can miss one day,
Sammy. Don’t you wanna spend the day with big brother?”  Oh so fucking much
Sam thought as the car peeled away from the parking lot of the week’s crappy
motel.
By noon, they were happily drunk and Dean was licking his lips as he looked
over at Sam, debating if Sam was ready for the next stop. He gazed over at his
big, little brother and saw a happy, goofy smile, the likes of which he hadn’t
seen on Sam’s face in years.
“Strip club?” Dean asked, watching Sam’s face closely for an answer. He wasn’t
really sure about this part of the day’s plans; wasn’t really sure if he wanted
to take Sam to that kind of place and let him get all hot and bothered over the
dancers there, but he was going to take his cues from Sam all the way here.
Afterall, it was Sam’s day.
Sam’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a second, then narrowed in thought. When
he spoke, his voice was wavering, cracking, like it did the year that Sam was
fourteen, and Dean was instantly transported back to that time when he’d first
realized that Sam was everything he’d ever wanted in life.
“You wanna go to a strip club with me?” Dean grinned in the loose, happy way he
had when he was this level of buzzed and tried not to inject too much
flirtation back towards Sam as he turned towards the strip club on the corner
and started walking.
“Think you’re gonna like this, Sammy.”
Sam was beautiful on a normal day, but flushed with alcohol and arousal, Dean
couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Sam had already admonished him to keep his eyes
on the dancers more than once, but he couldn’t help himself. Sammy, his Sammy,
was the most beautiful and erotic thing in the room to him.
“You’d look better on stage than any of those women, you know?” He slurred into
Sam’s ear, watching the full body shiver that went through his beautiful
brother at hearing them. Sam turned and Dean got a glimpse of Sam’s beautiful
multi-colored eyes before the dilated completely.
“Yeah?” Sam asked, sounding strange, but Dean was drunk enough, on alcohol and
his brother, that he couldn’t place the tone.
“So much more gorgeous than they are Sammy. I’d give you everything I have.
Watch you strut around on stage, tight little ass hanging out of some booty
shorts. Sweet, sculpted chest out on display. You got the sweetest little
nipples Sammy. D’you like touchin them? Like havin someone suck on them and
pinch them and nite them? Bet you’re so sensitive all over.” Dean couldn’t stop
the things coming out of his mouth but the way Sam was squirming in his seat
made him not want to.
“I got one more present for you Sammy, but it’s only if you want it. You want
big brother’s last gift for you?” He asked, his whole body throbbing with want
as he realized that it wasn’t just Sam getting off from all the dirty things he
was saying. Sam pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and Dean groaned.
“What’s the last gift Dean?” Dean slid his hand down his own stomach, along the
cut of his hip and openly grabbed his chubbed up cock in his pants.
“What do you think Sam?”
“I think it’s past time to get out of here.”
“Damn straight sweetheart.” He pushed himself out of the chair and to his feet,
steady enough to extend a hand down to Sam. He yanked Sammy to his feet and
pulled him in close. “Gonna dance for me baby?” He cupped a hand around Sam’s
ass cheek and guided him out of the crowded club towards the car.
“You want a lap dance big brother? I heard you can’t touch the dancers. Would
you behave?” Sam knew from the less-than-gentle squeeze to his rear and the
soft groan from his brother’s chest that Dean liked to get as good as he gave.
Boldly, he shoved Dean up against the car and pressed his body against him from
knee to chest. Slowly, obviously, he ground his hips against Dean’s to watch
the fluttering of his eyes in pleasure.
“Or do you want me to strip for you? Put on some Zep and sway my hips as I pull
my clothes off so slowly and show you how I like to be touched? Hmm? You want a
show, Big brother?”
Dean humped his hips forward, making their clothed cocks rub together and both
of them moaned with the fiery pleasure of it.
“I want you to get your sweet ass in the fuckin car before we both blow a load
in our jeans. Then I want you to dance for me. Then, when you’re all naked, I
want you to give me a lap dance in our bed. Then I’m gonna get my tongue and my
fingers and my cock inside you and give you the birthday gift I’ve wanted to
give you every year since you were fifteen.”
***** One phones the other while the latter is having sex *****
“‘Lo?” Dean can feel himself panting into the phone and he knows that he
probably shouldn’t have answered but ever since Sammy left for school he can’t
not pick up the phone, hoping, praying it’s him. He shifts his hips, making
stars burst behind his eyes when the prostate massager hits the spot.
“Dean?” Comes the tentative voice and Dean’s whole world explodes into color.
“Sammy? OH baby boy. Little brother.” He know there’s more sex in his voice
than there should be, but his cock is so hard and the little toy is rubbing his
prostate so right and Sam’s voice is in his ear.
“Are.. are you having sex?” Sam’s scandalized voice makes Dean huff out a laugh
and he shifts his body to make the feelings less intense so that he can focus
on Sam more.
“‘S’not sex when it’s just yourself, Sammy. You drunk?” He can barely hear the
way that Sam pants, openmouthed, like he does when he’s a little drunk through
the tinny speaker of the phone.
“M’little drunk and you’re jerking off. S’weird even for us Dee.” Dean can hear
rustling through the phone, the sounds of Sam getting comfortable and he smears
a hand through the collected sweat on his chest before moving it up to pluck at
his nipples.
“You gonna join me little brother?” He can’t stop the question, but now that
it’s out there, he doesn’t want to. He wants to see what will happen. He wants
to know Sam is on the complete opposite coast of him, jerking his dick same as
him.
“You want me to?” Sam’s breathless already and Dean reaches down to shift the
tiny handle of the prostate massager to his the spot again, making himself moan
loudly.
“Yeah c’mon. Get off with me. Get that monster outta your pants little brother,
and stroke it. Tell me what you’re doing. Wanna hear what I’m doing?”
A panting sigh of ‘yes’ comes through the phone and it’s the sweetest thing
Dean has heard in a long time. He grips the phone tighter to his ear and pulls
hard at his nipple hissing when he twists it at the end. He looks down the
length of his body and sees his cock twitch as precome bubbles from the tip.
“You got that big dick out, baby boy? Don’t wanna do this alone.” He sighs and
swipes his free hand up his cock, slicking it in all the precome there.
“Yeah big brother, I’m just squeezing the head to get hard. Tell me what you’re
doing.” Sam whines and Dean has to close his eyes and picture it; Sam’s long,
lanky body spread across a too-small college mattress, big dick in hand and
phone clutched to his face.
“M’naked. Sweaty. Been teasing myself. My nipples are all red and swollen,
pulled at them for a while, you know? Got myself in the mood before I even
pulled off all my clothes just teasing at them. They’re so sensitive Sammy. Are
yours?” He rotates the toy in his ass and gasps quietly so that he can hear the
answer.
“Mmmm, yeah. Like to have them sucked on. What else Dean, c’mon. Wanna get off
with you.”
“My cock is so hard, Sammy. So hard and so wet. Been ignoring it, cause, I got
a new toy today. Prostate massager. I don’t like bottoming, Sammy, I like to be
in control. Love the feeling of my dick being inside someone. But men who
ignore their prostate are missing out on some good stuff. It - FUCK - feels so
good baby. It’s just rubbing right there. Can’t even describe it.” He’s having
trouble breathing and he’s sweating even more now. He angles the massager into
his prostate and fucks his hips down onto it and it feels so good it hurts. IT
takes a minute for him to come back into his body and he can hear the wet sound
of Sam’s hand flying over his cock even through the phone.
“Love bottoming Dee. Love the feeling of someone being inside of me. Wanna get
fucked hard sometimes. Do you - OH - you like to be ridden? That’s the best.
Just slamming my hips up and down over and over again till it feels like I’m
gonna get bruised.” Sam’s breathing has picked up again and Dean feels like
he’s on fire. He finally can’t take it anymore and wraps a hand around his
dick.
“You close baby? We gonna come together? M’so close. Want it. Want you. Wanna
sit you on my dick and watch the show as you bounce away. Wanna sit up and suck
on your pretty little nipples. Can you come on my dick alone? You got some
fingers in that pretty asshole?” He feels depraved and so horny. He’s never
been one for dirty talk in the bedroom, but Sam always brings out something
else in him.
“Four. I got four fingers in my hole. Want more. I can come on just your dick.
Wanna show you. C’mon Dee. Come inside me. Fuck me hard and leave me wet and
fucked open. C’mon oh-oh-oh Deeeeee.”
One good stroke of his hand up his cock and the sound of Sam whining and coming
in his ear and he’s done for. He bears down on the toy in his ass and comes all
over himself, the first shot reaching all the way up to his chin as his muscles
curl up and lock while his balls pulse hard enough to make him nearly black
out. He knows he tried to say Sam’s name but he thinks it may have missed the
mark. Lights are bursting behind his eyes.
“Dean?” He hears Sammy’s voice distantly, through the fog of the best orgasm
he’s had in ages. He clears his throat and wishes for a damn drink.
“Yeah, Sammy?” The only reply he gets is the sound of Sam breathing; his
favorite sound aside from Sam’s heartbeat.
“I miss you.” He finally says to the sounds of Sam’s breathing. He’s drifting
off into sleep, can’t open his eyes and doesn’t really want to since he knows
that the only thing he wants to see is Sam, and Sam isn’t really there.
“I miss you too Dean.”
***** NSFW with no hands *****
Their first time is rushed. Hands and teeth and bruising marks. Sweat and stink
of two teenaged boys frotting themselves into oblivion. The second time is
slower, hands and eyes caressing each body part as though it is something brand
new.
The third time, though, that’s Dean’s favorite.
The third time he got to have Sammy, he used his mouth. He started at Sam’s
shaggy head of hair. Breathing in the sweet scent of his clean scalp. Pressing
kisses to the top of his head, then down to his ears. He kissed the underside
of Sam’s chin while Sammy giggled breathlessly. He tongued his way down Sam’s
long neck, gaining more happy sighs and sweet giggles for his trouble.
He mouthed across the breadth of shoulders that were only going to get bigger
as Sam continued to grow. He licked his way down to brown nipples begging to be
licked, sucked, bitten and so he did. He switched back and forth until Sam was
whining, squirming under him and the brown nipples were pink and flushed, plump
and pointed.
He kissed down the lines of Sam’s skinny tummy, outlining the muscles with his
tongue.
The head of Sam’s cock bumped the side of his chin and his skipped it to suck
hickeys into Sam’s hips, leaving his mark.
Dan shoved his body to the end of the bed and took up again, kissing the bottom
of Sam’s overlarge feet. He nipped the insides of Sam’s ankles and nearly got a
knee in the eye when Sam jerked his leg away. He kissed up the insides of
barely haired legs, pausing to lick and nibble the inside of Sam’s knees,
getting more whining giggles for his effort. At the apex of Sam’s colt-long
legs he paused, skimming just the tip of his nose over Sam’s balls, already so
high and tight with arousal.
“Roll over.” His voice was deep, rough and sounded like it had been unused for
days.
Sam groaned but obeyed and Dean was presented with the most perfect backside
he’s ever seen.
He wanted to start at Sam’s shoulders again then lick his way down the long
muscles of his back, but he was so hard and impatient. His one concession was
to push himself up and tongue at the freckle on Sam’s spine and he loved the
arch and gasp it earned him.
He shoved himself back down to his prize; the the place he’d been heading for.
He ran a flat, wet tongue up Sam’s crack before he sunk his teeth in, hard, to
the plush cheek in front of his face.
“Dean!” It was the first thing Sam had said in ages. Dean growled at the flush
of possessiveness that rushed through him at his name coming out of Sam’s mouth
like that and the way that Sam seemed to cry out with his whole body when he
said it.
He licked through Sam’s crack again. Frustrated with the way he couldn't get
where he wanted to be, he smashed his face between Sam’s cheeks, nosing into
the darkest part of him and earned another full-body shout for his troubles.
The barest tip of his tongue flicked out over Sam’s furled opening. He tasted
the dark, musky skin taste there and Dean was addicted. He pooled saliva on his
tongue and let it drip down over the area. He flashed his tongue out again and
again and again, softening the muscle and finally getting it inside of Sam. He
pointed his tongue and shoved greedily. This is where he’d been needing to be
and where he always wanted to be.
***** First Time Weecest *****
It wasn't until he turned fifteen that Sam realized wanting something could
hurt. He'd wanted things before; a permanent home, a mom, a normal life. He'd
wanted toys at Christmas and a dad that hung out with them to play instead of
acting like their drill sergeant. But until he was fifteen he never wanted
anything like this.
The way he wanted Dean.
Dean, his beautiful older brother, with a smile like the sun and green eyes
that sparkled. With freckles like constellations and strong, big hands that
were equally capable of disassembling a car as they were delicately soothing
the aching growing pains in Sam's calves. He wanted so much that it hurt. He
longed. He pined. He yearned like a fucking teenaged girl in one of the books
he’d read for his English Lit classes.
“What’s got your panties twisted, short stack?” Speaking of the man haunting
Sam, there was his beautiful brother, stomping through the door in too-small
jeans and too-big boots from the Salvation Army store and still managing to
look like a fucking male model.
“Stop calling me that Dean.” Sam winced when he heard his voice crack and he
wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth in frustration.
“Okay, fine, Samuel. Whatever. You gonna be like this all night? Cause I turned
down Tina at the diner tonight so that you and I could hang out. I’ll just go
find her and have a good time instead.” He reached for his jacket and Sam was
only about ten percent sure that Dean was bluffing, so he jumped up from the
couch and promptly tripped over his feet trying to keep Dean here. Keep Dean to
himself.
He winced as his knees thudded into the floor and his intended shout of “no”
came out as a whimper that only the threadbare carpet heard. He lay there,
feeling sorry for himself on the dirty carpet, waiting for Dean’s mocking
laughter but it never came.
“Okay, Sammy?” Came Dean’s concerned voice instead and he raised his gaze from
the floor to see Dean crouching in front of him, hand extended. Sam gathered
what little dignity he had left and let Dean help him to his feet, his face
flushing at the contact between their hands and the way that Dean’s green eyes
roved over his body, checking for injury. He nodded briefly.
“C’mon. I got fifty bucks in my pocket and I wanna spend it with you. Dinner
and a couple’a movies? Just us?” Sam couldn’t breathe from the kindness in
Dean’s eyes. He swallowed thickly and tried to tell Dean how good it sounded
but all he could do was nod again.
“Alright. Grab your jacket, getting cold out there.”
Dinner was pizza with pretzels and beer cheese and a big side salad and when
the food kept coming, Sam knew that Dean was spoiling him. He smiled across the
table at his brother and got Dean's secret “sammy smile” in return. It made
Sam's stomach twist and flip in all the best ways and he had to shift his hips
subtly to loosen up his jeans from around his cock.
“Done, kiddo?” Dean asked, wiping his lips with a napkin and belching loudly as
he sat back in his chair.
“M’not a kid.” Sam didn't even have the heart to reprimand dean about his
manners when his dick was deflating fast with the reminder that dean only saw
him as a kid. His heart panged. He wanted.
Sam was subdued on the walk to Blockbuster but when dean said he could choose
whatever two movies he wanted, his mood brightened. He wandered the new release
outer wall, eventually grabbing “Velvet Goldmine” since he'd heard some good
things about it, plus Ewan McGregor, Christian Bale and Johnathan Rhys-Myers
were all super hot. In deference to Dean, he debated between “Big Lebowski” and
“the Waterboy” agonizing about which one Dean would like more till Dean found
him and said they'd rent all three. They grabbed a bucket of microwave popcorn,
gummy worms and raisinettes on the way to checkout, where Dean charmed the girl
behind the counter into using her employee card and getting them a discount.
Sam's mood dropped again.
“Get her number? Gonna meet her later?” He asked sullenly as they headed back
to their crappy apartment. He was a few steps along before he realized that
Dean had stopped with his mouth hanging open.
“Sammy.” Dean started with reproach clear in his voice and Sam felt his
shoulders slump. He dropped his gaze to his worn sneakers on the sidewalk.
“I flirted a little to get something. M’not some kind of manwhore. Is… is that
what you think of me?” There was pain clear in Dean's voice and Sam's head shot
up to look at his brother.
“No! Dean, no! I just. You flirt and then you get a number and then you get a
date. You… you do it a lot. It's not… I mean… it's not a bad thing. I just..
Don’t want to keep you from something else tonight.” Sam replied, feeling shy
and idiotic towards the end. Sam’s eyes widened as Dean stepped close enough
that they were chest to chest and Sam had to tilt his head back just a little
bit to meet Dean’s eyes. There was something on Dean’s face that Sam couldn’t
place but he wanted to stretch up and kiss away because it looked a little bit
like pain or sadness.
“Sammy… you’re not second place. You’re not some consolation prize when I can’t
get a date, you know? Girls? They come and go. They’re fickle and they’re for
one night only till we leave town. You’re forever. My Sammy.”
Sam wanted to kiss Dean even more now, and was certain that it was showing on
his face. Dean was smirking at him and suddenly Sam realized that they were
standing practically pressed together, lost in each other’s eyes, in the middle
of the sidewalk. He felt the need to push Dean away, to do the Winchester thing
and break the tension with a joke r some well-placed sarcasm but he was loathe
to do so.
“C’mon. I’ll even let you pick the first movie.” He turned and nudged Dean’s
shoulder with his own to get them moving and couldn’t stop the giant smile on
his face when Dean followed immediately, already trying to decide between the
two that Sam had picked for him.
They were wrist deep in the popcorn and had just started Velvet Goldmine when
it suddenly came to Sam; this was a date. Dean had spoiled him for dinner and
was watching the movie that he wanted to watch. They hadn’t fought or bickered
at all and Dean was nudging his foot against Sam’s in what Sam could only guess
was a flirtatious way. Their hands brushed inside the popcorn and Sam felt
himself flush. He didn’t know what to do; he’d not only never been on a date
before but this was something he’d wanted so badly for so long that he was
nearly delirious with it.
On the screen Ewan McGregor’s character was screaming into a microphone on
stage and unbuttoning his pants, letting them fall down to his calves, baring
himself to a wild crowd and Sam felt like he was going to burst into flames. He
was shocked when he felt Dean’s arm fall heavily over his shoulders. He stopped
breathing when he felt Dean’s breath on his ear.
“What kinda movie you got me watchin Sammy?” Sam squeaked when he felt the
phantom flick of an ear on his earlobe. He turned his head and their noses
smushed together. Sam breathed in Dean’s breath for a moment, feeling himself
get hard in his jeans as he tried to read Dean’s face. With sudden clarity, Sam
understood. Dean wouldn’t make another move. Dean was laving it up to him.
To Sam, a choice like that wasn’t even a choice. He could ignore it all,
pretend it wasn’t happening- that he wasn’t about to get everything he’d ever
wanted. Of all the things that Sam knew he was, a coward was not one of them.
He leaned forward to press his lips to Dean’s.
It was a horrible kiss, both of them kept their eyes open, Dean’s mouth was
slightly parted so Sam ended up kissing his teeth more than his lips, but he
couldn’t back down. He wouldn’t. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the
side just a little bit more and suddenly everything clicked. Dean opened his
mouth and his tongue slicked into Sam’s mouth. Immediately, there were
fireworks. There were tingles running up and down Sam’s spine and he was so
hard that he thought he was about to sustain an injury from the zipper of his
jeans pressing into his cock. He licked at the tip of Dean’s tongue and Dean
groaned into his mouth, shifting his body to the side and gathering Sam into
his arms, practically into his lap.
“Dean” Sam panted from his new position, squirming on the tiny, ancient couch
until his knees were braced on either side of Dean’s hips and he could feel the
bulge of Dean’s cock pressing into his ass. Seconds later, Dean’s big hands
moved from where they were braced on Sam’s hips to cup and massage Sam’s ass.
“So gorgeous Sammy. Want you so bad.” Figures Dean would like to run his mouth
during sex. Not that Sam is complaining; it’s making him sweat and pant and
squirm on Dean’s lap. He whines wordlessly, trying to ask for more of Dean’s
voice, to hear more of what Dean is thinking or even wants to do to him. He
ducks his head under Dean’s chin and sucks on lump of Dean’s adam’s apple.
“You like that Sammy? Wanna hear all about what I’m gonna do to you? Get your
long body, oh fuck like that baby boy, all naked and spread out across my bed.”
Dean’s hips and grinding upwards cruelly now and Sam feels like there’s going
to be a fucking bruise on his ass from it.
“Gonna taste you everywhere little brother.” The words are so low, Sam barely
hears them, but when he does his eye dilate so fast he can feel it happen. He
didn’t think there was anything else that Dean could do to turn him on even
more but calling him little brother hits buttons he didn’t even know he had. He
humped his hips forward, loving the nearly painful drag of his cock against
Dean’s flat stomach.
“Oh, like that, little brother? Like hearing about what your big brother wants
to do to you?” Sam can only nod and whine, he’s lost all his words and doesn’t
care if they ever come back as long as Dean keeps talking to him like this.
“Gonna get you all open for me. Gonna fold you up with your legs at your
shoulders and lick you open right here.” Sam didn’t even notice when Dean
slipped his hands past the waistband of his jeans to paw at his bare ass. He
felt one, thick finger between his cheeks, petting at his hole. “Gonna get my
tongue right up inside of you. Taste all the secret, dirty parts of you while
you whine and whimper and beg for big brother’s cock.” Sam feels the blunt tip
of Dean’s finger pressing into his hole and he’s lost, insensate, coming in his
jeans so much that the wet spot spreads out to Dean’s tee-shirt.
“Fuck yeah, baby boy, come for me. Come for you big brother. Come all over me
sweetheart.” Dean croons, petting Sam’s hole as he twitches and spasms.
Sam feels boneless and brainless, he’s shot everything he had out of his dick
and the wetness is cooling in his pants as he tries to come back to himself. He
feels Dean stand up, holding him in his arms, and carry them to their shared
room. Sam feels himself reverently laid down on Dean’s bed and he blinks up at
the object of all his wants. Dean looks down with blown-wide pupils and messed
up hair and a flush on his cheeks that Sam knows is from him. For him. Feeling
bold, Sam pops the button on his jeans and wiggles his way out of them without
a word. He strips off his shirt, too, before he squirms backwards until he’s in
the center of Dean’s bed.
He knows that it’s still his move. He pulls a kiss swollen bottom lip into his
mouth and bites down to keep himself in the moment as he hooks his forearms
under his knees and lifts them, folding himself in half just like Dean had
described.
Dean pounces.
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