
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/498658.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Wincest_-_Freeform, as_dub-con_as
      this_genre_is, PWP, I_can't_believe_I_wrote_this...
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-29 Words: 1193
****** And you (shook me all night long) ******
by GhostCwtch
Summary
     Dean was born first, he's supposed to be an alpha. Sam was born
     second, he's supposed to be a beta or, more rarely, an omega.
     Supposed to hasn't ever had much impact on the Winchesters.
     **Underage warning is for reference to Dean's first heat at 16 where
     in he has no sexual contact with anyone but himself.
Notes
     If you want to skip ahead to where everyone is a fully consenting
     adult, it's after the break.
     In other news, I'm a very dirty girl who needs to go wash her brain
     out with soap.
 
Dean goes into heat for the first time when he's sixteen. He's known for a few
years now that he's definitely an omega, as if being shorter and having,
frankly, girly looking eyelashes wasn't enough of a clue. He has to hide out in
the tub of their motel, door locked and chair jammed under the handle just in
case someone scents him and manages to get past Sammy while their dad is off
taking care of the hunt they came to this shit-splat town for in the first
place.
 
As the older brother, he should have been born an alpha.
 
He should be the one practically eating them out of gas and bullets, the one
already growing so fast it's all they can do to find clothes that fit in every
local Goodwill. It should be him and not Sammy out there guarding the door as
his brother writhes about in the tub, desperately seeking some sort of relief.
 
It should be, but it isn't. Dean is the one in here without heat suppressors or
toys or anything that could make this something short of torture. He's got
three fingers twisting in and out, slicked with the natural lubricant that is
produced by the heat, but it's too awkward an angle to really fill him and
that's all he wants.
 
“Dean?”
 
A pleasurable shudder racks through him. Sammy's not fully presenting as an
alpha, not yet, he's only twelve after all, but already his voice is starting
to crack to the lower register. Dean's voice lowered during presentation too,
but Sammy's is going to probably end up deeper and fuck if that thought isn't
turning him on even more than he already was.
 
“sSssaaammy, h-hah, just, just wait for dad, okay?”
 
“Do you need anything?”
 
God, Sammy must be pressed right up against the door. If they were a little
older, maybe Sam could help him out, but they're not and he's not fully
presented yet and Dean is and he grinds down hard on his fingers, yearning for
relief that isn't going to come.
 
                                  * * * * * *
                                        
Because of the life they lead, Dean doesn't ever develop regular heats. He does
buy some toys that he keeps carefully hidden away in his bag, even if it's
obvious his dad knows he has them. It's something they all silently agree to
never, ever, mention. By the time Sam leaves for college, an absolute picture
of an alpha if ever there was one (but with the strangely shy, retiring
attitude more suiting an omega that their dad practically trained into him)
Dean has only had three more heats.
 
He doesn't have a single one the whole time Sam is gone.
 
When he picks up Sam to go after their dad, and the whole ordeal with Jess goes
down, he's really under too much stress to even spare half a thought for
biological processes and it's not until months later, just as Sam starts to
smile again, that he finally winds down enough for his body to catch up with
him.
 
It slams into him like a freight train. One moment, he's happily chowing down
on pie that tastes even better than normal, which is weird because Sam brought
it back from the shitty little gas station around the corner, and the next he's
ripping his clothes off and diving towards his bag.
 
Large hands on his hips pull him up short. “Dean.”
 
Sammy's voice is a bass rumble and Dean can't hold in a quiet whine. Slickness
is already sliding down his inner thighs and he can feel his opening clenching
around nothing. Sam rasps his tongue up the side of Dean's throat, and Dean's
knees crumple beneath him. His brother's strong arms support him, even as Sam
practically drags him over to the bed.
 
“Come on, Dean, lie back for me. I'm gonna take such good care of you, you have
no idea.”
 
He follows the gentle prodding of hands, settling into the sheets. The hands
leave him for a moment and he nearly cries out at the loss, but it must've been
to give Sam time to strip because he's suddenly covered with his brother's
body. Their chests rub together, sweat slicked between them, as Sam scents the
area just behind Dean's ear where the heat pheromones are released.
 
“So good, Dean, you smell so good.” Sammy's voice is a moan and Dean can't help
but buck against him. Their cocks glide against each other, bringing gasps from
both of them, and Dean finds himself flipped onto his front before he can
really register the sensation.
 
From here, it's all instinct, his body knows exactly what to do, kneeling up
and spreading his legs until it's nearly uncomfortable. His chest presses down
into the bed, fingers flexing in the sheets as Sam's thumb brushes over Dean's
opening. The muscles spasms, trying to draw it in, demanding to be bred, and
Sam rumbles out a moan before kneeling to line himself up.
 
There's only ever one thrust in a heat-mating. That first delicious thrust
fills Dean right up, pressing in against his internal walls to the secondary
opening deep within him. There's a moment of resistance, the head of Sam's cock
pressing against the second entrance to Dean's womb even as the knot at the
base of his cock presses against Dean's external opening, before both slide in
an swell, locking them together. It isn't enough to trigger orgasm, but it is
enough to freeze them both in place at how right it feels.
 
Sam rocks back, just barely, and the tightening of Dean's body, the absolute
refusal to release the cock buried within him, triggers the both of them. Sam
shudders forward again, burying impossibly deeper, and Dean's internal muscles,
evolved just for this purpose, milk his cock in strong contractions. He's
coming hard than he ever had with a toy and, also unlike with a toy, it's
completely internal. His own cock bobs in rhythm to the movement of his
muscles, and his balls draw up tight to his body, but all of his cum is sent
flooding into his womb to mix with Sam's.
 
After the initial minutes pass, it settles into a more stable rhythm and they
tip carefully to lay on their sides. Long moments pass in an almost feed-back
loop between them, Sam rocking his hips in tiny increments setting off stronger
shocks. They could be locked like this for any where from an hour to three or
even four, and with how huge Sam's knot feels, stretching out the limits of
Dean's endurance to take, he's betting on the three or four hour end of the
spectrum.
 
Sam rubs a hand over Dean's belly, almost as if he can feel what's happening
within. “Gonna fill you up, Dean. Make our own little family and fuck you so
hard through this whole heat. Fuck you through the pregnancy, bet you'll be so
hot with our baby in you,” he rocked his hips again and gasped, “Oh god, so
good and tight, Dean. All for me.”
 
Dean nodded, curling his hand around Sam's wrist. “All for you, all for you.”
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