
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2302991.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Wincest_-_Freeform, Sam_in_a_Skirt, Sam
      In_Panties, Bottom_Sam, Top_Dean, Dirty_Talk, Crossdressing_Kink,
      Frottage, Fingerfucking, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Barebacking, slight
      breathplay, Lace_Panties, Shameless_Smut, Schmoop
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-14 Words: 6496
****** Definitely Not Laughing ******
by padaholic_316
Summary
     Sam has a gym bag mishap at school. Dean later catches him admiring
     some clothes that definitely aren't his, and he wants Sam to put them
     on. Sam agrees, but makes Dean promise not to laugh.
     No laughter ensues. A lot of really hot sex does, though.
     (One-shot. First-time Wincest, slight underage -- Sam is 17.)
Notes
     This fic was inspired by fanart I found on konashman's Instagram
     page, @may.contain.brother.touching and I started it a month ago and
     thought it would be up in a day at the most. Well, THAT didn't
     happen, but here it is, finally complete!!! To everyone who was
     waiting endlessly for this fic, thank you for your amazing patience.
     This is, essentially, a PWP one-shot about first-time Wincest
     involving/instigated by Sam in a skirt and panties. Also, this is my
     first attempt at writing porn! As always, any and all feedback
     greatly appreciated. Enjoy!!!
                       The_fanart_that_inspired_this_fic
 
 
"Come on, Sam! What the hell are you doin' in there, puttin' on makeup?"
Sam swallowed hard due to the fact that Dean's sarcastic comment was actually
in the ballpark. "No, you jerk, I'm... I'll be out in a minute, okay?" he
called as he shimmied back into his pants. 
"It's already been ten minutes!" came the retort. "And dude, I gotta piss like
a damn racehorse. Are you... decent?"
"What?!?" 
"Ya know... decent. Pants on, nothing hangin' out --"
"God, Dean, I get it! And... yes, I'm decent, but why --"
The bathroom door swung open and Dean strode in. Dammit, really should've
locked that. Apparently his brother had to pee too badly to wait for Sam to
leave.
Which was really unfortunate for Sam.
Who was, at the moment, panicking.
Dean couldn't possibly know his little brother had been thinking about him, but
what he could (and would) easily deduce from the item Sam was currently holding
would be bad enough. Knowing it was too little far too late, he shoved the
incriminating evidence into the gym bag and started to zip it up. 
But, of course, Dean was onto him. "Whattaya got there, Sammy?" he asked,
swiftly yanking the bag out of Sam's grip and pulling the zipper fully open.
"It's not mine, I swear!" Sam cried as a last-ditch defense as Dean's eyes
widened upon seeing the contents of the bag. 
"Care to explain, Sam?" he asked slowly.
"It's not mine," Sam reiterated as Dean continued to stare at the cheerleader's
uniform. 
"I figured that," Dean replied, fingering the hem of the red miniskirt Sam had
just shoved into the bag. "I was thinkin' more along the lines of why you have
it and how you got it." 
"It was an accident," Sam said quickly, his words tumbling together. "The
basketball team had practice at the same time as the cheerleaders today, and
after practice I was coming out of the locker room and I crashed into this big
group of cheerleaders, and a bunch of them dropped their gym bags, and I
dropped mine too. So I apologized, picked up my bag and left. Well...
I thought it was my bag. It looks exactly the same as my gym bag, I swear," he
finished defensively. Dean's expression was unreadable. 
There was silence for several long moments before Dean spoke. "So what exactly
have you been doing in here with this --" he lifted up the skirt and stared
hard at Sam -- "for the past ten minutes?" 
Sam blushed bright red and looked down, away from his brother's piercing gaze.
"Nothing," he mumbled.
"Uh huh." Dean's eyes narrowed when Sam glanced up at him, causing the youngest
Winchester's gaze to return immediately to the ugly yellow bathroom floor. "And
since when does 'nothing' take ten minutes?"
Silence again. 
Suddenly, Sam found the bright red skirt hanging in front of his face. He
looked up in surprise and saw Dean holding it out to him, eyes dark with
something unreadable. He shoved the skirt into Sam's hands.
"Put it on," Dean growled.
Sam was instantly, blindingly hard.
"W-what?" 
"You heard me. Either you tell me exactly what you've been doing and thinking
about doing in here for the past ten minutes," Dean said slowly, his voice an
octave lower than normal, "or you put on the skirt and show me." 
Sam stood there, mouth hanging open, eyes anywhere but on his brother,
desperately trying to figure a way out of this situation. And trying to figure
out why the hell Dean wanted him to wear the skirt so badly. Other than for
future blackmail and a good laugh, of course. But for some reason, from the way
Dean was acting, Sam got the feeling that's not what his brother had in mind. 
Could it be... 
Somehow, Sam basically found himself agreeing to wear a miniskirt in front of
his brother. "You have to promise not to laugh," he said hesitantly. 
He slowly looked up and noticed Dean was staring at his crotch, where Sam's
arousal was obvious. And at that moment, Sam noticed Dean had a matching bulge
in his own jeans. 
Their eyes met, hazel and green barely visible around two sets of lust-blown
pupils. And in the span of just several seconds, the brothers had an entire
silent conversation. 
You're just excited about the skirt, right? Nothing else?
Oh, yeah, sure. Just as much as you are, apparently. 
I... it's not about the skirt as much as... 
As what, baby boy?
...You, Dean.
You want me? 
Never wanted anyone else. You hate me, don't you? 
I want you right back, Sammy. 
...Really? You sure? You're not just saying that to make me feel- 
I've always wanted you, baby boy. I love you more than anything. Want every
part of you.
...Thank God. Me too. I feel exactly the same way, Dean, but what will other
people think-
No one else has to know. 
I know, but what if people find out- 
Screw the rest of the world, Sammy. Do you really think love this strong could
ever be wrong? 
...No. I love you so much, Dean. 
Me too, baby boy. So goddamn much. 
Only the two last lines of the conversation were spoken aloud.
"I promise, I will not laugh."
And then Dean's gentle smile turned into a wide and dirty grin.
"Now put on the skirt." 
 
                                        
                                   -=-=-=-=-
                                        
                                        
Sam didn't even consider trying to put the top on. The tiny white blouse with
'Spartans' in sparkly red script across the chest didn't really appeal to him
at all, or at least not nearly as much as the skirt did. Plus, he doubted he'd
even be able to get it on -- it was a small, according to the tag, and the
material was so flimsy and thin, his broad shoulders might even rip right
through it. 
Plus, Dean hadn't mentioned that he wanted to see him in the top -- just the
skirt. So Sam didn't worry about it. 
The skirt was a small, too, but luckily, Sam's waist was so tiny, he had no
problem slipping into it. The elastic waistband fit perfectly around his narrow
hips, and he felt pretty damn sexy in that tiny, bright red skirt. 
Which probably wasn't normal for a dude, but oh well. Neither was having a
crush on your brother. 
Neither was having sex with your brother. 
Which, Sam was pretty sure, was what was gonna happen when he came out of the
bathroom. 
How they had that entire conversation just by looking at each other, Sam had no
idea, but he was incredibly grateful it wasn't out loud, since that probably
would've turned VERY awkward. He also had no doubt whatsoever that he and Dean
were on exactly the same page now, which was also an immense relief. 
And, of course, an intense turn-on. Seeing as he was about to have sex in a
cheerleader's skirt. 
He left his white wife-beater on (Dean will probably like how tight it is), and
once the skirt was on, he decided to go commando. Not like he was gonna need
the underwear, anyways. 
But as his hand reached the doorknob, he froze. He'd almost forgotten. He'd
actually discovered the bag mix-up a little earlier than he'd let on to Dean,
and once he'd seen the skirt, he'd stopped by a certain store on the way home
from school and picked up an item he'd told the cashier was for his girlfriend.
And he'd shoved it into the small zippered pocket inside the gym bag and
forgotten about it. 
He reached into the bag, unzipped the pocket, and pulled out the tiny scrap of
fabric. He ripped the tag off and smiled as he imagined what Dean's reaction
would be. 
If he likes the skirt, he's gonna LOVE this. 
Sam quickly pulled on the black lace panties, straightened the skirt to cover
them, and opened the bathroom door. 
 
 
                                   -=-=-=-=-
                                        
 
The motel they were in was a fairly recent construction, so the bathroom door
was well-oiled and opened silently. Dean was standing next to his bed, facing
the other way, clearly unaware that Sam was standing there. Sam took the
opportunity to lean against the wall to his right in what he hoped was a
seductive pose, and he gently kicked the bathroom door shut. 
When Dean heard the door close, he turned around, and his mouth dropped into a
perfect 'O', his eyes as wide as Sam had ever seen them. He quickly clapped a
hand over his mouth and started breathing deeply. 
He's trying not to laugh. 
Sam felt the disappointment and hurt like a physical blow. He
could've sworn Dean had been turned on by the thought of Sam in the skirt... 
He leaned his arm up against the wall and turned his face into the crook of his
elbow miserably. 
"Sammy..." he heard Dean whisper breathlessly. 
Sam lifted his head up a little and turned it to the side, still not really
looking at his brother. "You promised not to laugh!" he said, hating how
petulant he sounded. 
He dared a glance at Dean, whose brow was furrowed, like he was confused at
what Sam had said. And who was staring unblinkingly at how tightly the tiny
little skirt hugged Sam's ass. A spark of hope jumped to life in Sam's
chest. Maybe I was wrong...
Dean, clearly reluctantly, dragged his gaze away from the skirt to look Sam in
the eyes. "Oh, I'm definitely not laughing," he said, his voice somehow even
lower than it had been earlier. 
Sam almost collapsed with relief. He had misconstrued the situation, thank God.
Dean wasn't trying not to laugh. He was so turned on he could barely breathe. 
And that turned Sam on so much that he could barely breathe.
And then, suddenly, they were kissing. Sam didn't remember making any conscious
decision to move, but he was suddenly standing in the middle of the room,
hungrily licking at his brother's plush pink lips. The kisses turned open-
mouthed quickly, and their tongues collided, sliding against each other,
swirling -- and then Dean took complete control, grabbing the side of Sam's
face with one hand and his hair with the other, tongue-fucking his mouth,
and Jesus, Sam was gonna come in his pants (well, panties) just from a kiss. 
Dean seemed to sense how close Sam was, though, and he pulled back. Sam let out
a pathetic little whimper, but he didn't even care, because he needed Dean more
than he needed fucking oxygen right then. Dean seemed to sense that too,
though, and he let out a dark chuckle. 
"I know, baby boy," he rasped. "Gotta get these off, though." And within three
seconds, Dean was entirely naked. 
And when Sam saw Dean's cock, giant and red and fully erect, a shiny drop of
precome at the tip, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and press his hand against
the base of his own dick to keep from coming right then and there. 
When Sam opened his eyes again, Dean was standing back a few feet and off to
the side, in front of his bed, staring at the skirt. Well, at Sam's ass in the
skirt, more specifically. 
"You want me to fuck you, Sammy?" he growled, and holy shit, if Sam got any
harder he was going to explode. "Want me to fuck you wide open wearin' that
pretty little skirt?" 
"Please, Dean," he whined, not caring that he probably sounded like a whore.
"Please fuck me, God, want you so bad." 
Dean's grin was almost feral. "Then get over here." 
Sam almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to Dean -- and as soon
as he did, Dean spun him around and shoved him, face-down, onto the bed. "God,
you look so fuckin' sexy in that skirt, got no idea what you do to me, baby
boy," he whispered, grinding down hard into Sam, licking and biting his
shoulders, pushing the skirt between his little brother's ass cheeks and
fucking his cock between them, sliding over the smooth red cotton. "So fuckin'
hot, Sammy." 
Sam was so lost in trying to push back into Dean's thrusts, trying to push
forward to get some friction on his own dick, and trying desperately not to
come yet that he almost missed it when Dean froze. He started when Dean
suddenly pushed the skirt up off his ass entirely. 
Oh. 
Dean had discovered the panties. 
There was silence for a solid twenty seconds. Sam didn't dare to move, to look
behind him. Then, finally, Dean said, "Jesus fuck, Sammy," in a voice so hoarse
with shock and lust that it sounded like he'd been screaming for hours. "Jesus
fucking Christ --" 
And then Dean was on him again, positively ferocious now, attacking his mouth,
fucking between his ass cheeks again but this time, without the skirt in the
way, there was some skin-on-skin and he was rubbing up against the panties, and
oh fuck, that pulled them tighter against his dick, and now there was friction,
but still not enough, just a tiny amount compared to what he wanted, what
he needed -- 
And then Dean flipped him over, so he was lying on his back, and pulled Sam's
wife-beater off with one swift yank. "Fucking lace panties, Sam, Jesus, where
the hell did you even get those -- no, don't answer that, doesn't matter." He
locked his gaze with Sam's, surprise and lust and love shining clearly out of
his eyes. "You wore those for me, Sammy?" 
Sam nodded, smiling almost bashfully up at his brother. "All for you, Dean." 
Dean let out a soft breath, like he couldn't believe it was true, and looked at
Sam like -- like he was the most precious thing ever to exist. Sam loved when
his brother looked at him like that. But now was not the time for
sentimentality. 
He decided to go for a transition. "Love you, Dean," he said, meaning it with
all his heart, then grinding up into his brother's hips, and oh holy Christ,
the friction of Dean's bare dick on his panty-clad one was perfect. "Want
you." 
And just like that, the sex-crazed Dean was back. "Want you too, baby boy," he
said, setting up a slow rhythm, rolling his hips gently into Sam's, the panties
providing delicious friction as the lace scratched up against both their cocks.
Dean couldn't keep it gentle for long, which was fine with Sam, and soon his
brother was rutting into him hard and fast, and Sam was right on the edge again
-- but he still didn't want to come yet. Not until Dean's dick was up his ass. 
And so he told Dean as much. Dean, of course, was very on board with that plan.
"Gonna make love to you first, Sammy," he said, gently pulling the skirt down
Sam's legs. "Gonna make your first time so good, baby boy." 
Dean tried to pull the panties off, but Sam stopped him. "I'll agree to that on
one condition," he said. "You can make love to me first, but then you have
to fuck me." 
Dean shuddered, reaching down to press against his dick. "I promise, Sammy," he
replied. 
Once the panties were off, Dean reached over Sam to the nightstand and pulled
out some lube and a condom. Sam immediately objected to the latter. Dean
disagreed.
"Sammy, we should be safe --"
"I know you get tested sometimes, Dean." 
"How do you --" 
"Overheard you talking about it once, but that's not the point. Have you been
with anyone since the last time you got tested?" 
"...No, but --" 
"And those test results came back fine, right? You were clean?" 
"...Well, yeah, but --" 
"I've never been with anyone, Dean." At that, Dean looked down at his brother
in surprise. Sam merely nodded in confirmation, adding, "Guy or girl. I've had
a couple kisses, but nothing past that, ever." He looked Dean in the eye,
knowing this would sell it. "And I wanna feel all of you."
Dean blinked. Then he tossed the condom over his shoulder and basically dove on
top of Sam, kissing him and rubbing against him and licking at the little mole
next to his nose, and Sam was grabbing at any part of Dean he could reach, his
hair, his shoulders, his back -- 
And suddenly there was a finger at his entrance, somehow already cold and slick
with lube, and Sam barely had time to wonder when did that happen? before it
was pressing gently into him, just the tip pushing inside, and Sam tensed
instinctively, but oh, wow, he did not expect to like that as much as he
instantly did. In a matter of seconds, he was pushing back against the finger
thrusting into him, silently begging for more, and there was a quiet
"Holy fuck, Sammy, so fucking tight --" before a second finger pressed in
alongside the first. 
It was a strange feeling, there was no question about it, but for some reason
Sam couldn't explain, he absolutely loved it. He was moaning and writhing on
the bed like a two-dollar whore as his brother fucked him with two fingers,
twisting them inside him, scissoring to get him open, pushing deeper and harder
and -- 
"FUCK!" Sam shouted, jumping a mile as Dean brushed up against what could only
be his prostate, and Dean snickered above him, seeking out that spot again and
not moving away once he found it, just rubbing the tips of those two fingers
against his prostate relentlessly, and Sam couldn't do anything but shake and
pant and oh fuck, he was so close -- 
And then the fingers were gone, and Sam whimpered again, still not caring, and
Dean whispered, "Shh, baby boy, one more --" and then there were three fingers,
all at once, and Dean was fucking him hard with them, ramming them in and out
of Sam's ass, thrusting and twisting and hitting his prostate every other try,
and his other arm was pinning Sam's shoulders to the bed, holding him there so
he had no choice but to just take it, and yes, Jesus, this was amazing, but it
wasn't Dean's fingers he wanted to come on. 
He reached out and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, prompting him to stop for a
second. "Make love to me," he whispered. "Please, De?" 
The shortened form of his big brother's name did it, as Sam knew it would.
"Okay, Sammy, okay," he replied, pulling his fingers out and reaching for the
lube again. "Just one second, baby boy." 
Dean slicked himself up quickly, and then he tried to turn Sam onto his
stomach, but Sam was having none of it. 
"It'll be better for your first time if --"
"I don't care, Dean, I just wanna see you. Need to see you." 
"...All right, whatever you want, Sammy." 
There was a moment of nervous anticipation as Dean lined up, and then -- 
It hurt, but not as much as Sam had expected it to, as Dean slowly sunk his
cock into Sam's ass. He was gentle, careful, making sure Sam wasn't showing any
signs of distress, which he wasn't, and it seemed to take forever for him to
bottom out, but eventually, his hips were snug against Sam's. 
Dean let out a harsh breath, his face turned into Sam's neck. "Jesus, Sammy,
tightest fuckin' thing I've ever felt --" and then he gave an experimental slow
roll of his hips, not pulling out of Sam at all, just pushing his hips harder
against Sam's and moving up a tiny bit, shifting his cock inside Sam, twisting
it just a little, and shit, Sam needed more. 
"C'mon, Dean, fuck, can you just move already?" 
Dean captured Sam's mouth again instead of answering him. Sam lost himself in
the passionate kiss, so much so that he gasped in surprise when Dean actually
complied with his request and slowly pulled his cock partially out of Sam and
just as slowly pushed back in. 
"Oh, God --"
"Fuck, Sammy --" 
And then Dean really started to move. Not at a punishing pace, but not too slow
either -- and Sam had been worried that Dean was gonna treat him like glass at
first, but that didn't seem to be a problem. Dean was holding back a little,
but only to make it last longer for both of them. It still wasn't enough,
though, and Sam knew he probably really did sound like a whore, but he couldn't
stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.
"More, Dean, please --" 
Dean didn't speed up at all, but he did change his angle bit by bit until he
found Sam's prostate. And as soon as he heard Sam's gasp indicating he'd found
the sweet spot, he -- infuriatingly -- slowed down. He still thrust hard into
Sam, shoving his whole cock in and almost all the way out every time, the
mushroom head catching on Sam's rim as he pulled out and pushing impossibly
deep into him on the thrusts, but he'd slowed down enough that the jolts of
pleasure from Dean hitting his prostate were far enough apart that he wasn't on
the edge anymore, needed more, needed faster -- 
But he said nothing. It was the sweetest kind of torture, and he wanted to just
take whatever Dean gave him. 
Of course, Dean wasn't giving him much of a choice in that department. At least
not physically. Sam had no doubt that if he told his brother to stop, he would
without hesitation, but right now, Dean was pressed completely on top of Sam,
face to face, chest to chest, Dean's hands holding down Sam's forearms,
stomachs separated enough to allow for Dean to thrust as deeply as he could
that Sam's dick was being just barely rubbed between Dean's abs and his own,
Dean sucking on Sam's tongue like it was a Popsicle as he shoved his cock in
and out of Sam's tight, tight heat, and slowly, finally, it was building,
Dean's thrusts getting faster and less controlled, Sam being jolted slightly
with the force now, slowly being driven up the bed by Dean's pistoning hips
slamming against Sam's own as his cock rammed home faster and harder and again
and again and -- 
Dean abruptly pushed himself up so he was kneeling on the bed, pulling Sam's
legs up onto his shoulders, his thrusts not missing a beat, and oh shit, Dean
was hitting his prostate even more at this angle, and Sam was fairly sure he
was moaning or whimpering or something, but he could not possibly care less at
the moment because every fucking thrust was the best thing Sam had ever felt,
and he was getting so close -- oh God, Sam was about to come untouched, just on
Dean's cock -- 
But then, suddenly, unexpectedly, there was friction on his cock. Dean's hand,
but not just Dean's hand. Sam looked down -- 
And Dean had the panties in his hand. 
Dean was jerking Sam off with Sam's black lace panties wrapped around his
hand. 
Sam came harder than he ever had in his life. 
It seemed to last forever. He thrashed on the bed, shouting incoherently, the
strength of the orgasm literally whiting his vision out, hopelessly lost in the
most intense pleasure he'd ever felt, and Dean worked him through it, his
panty-wrapped hand on Sam's cock never pausing, hips still fucking relentlessly
into Sam, his cock nailing his writhing brother's prostate over and over, until
Sam finally, slowly, came down. He opened his eyes to find that his vision had
returned just in time to witness the beautiful sight of his brother coming. 
Dean's mouth fell open as he pounded erratically into Sam, and he screwed his
eyes shut as he started to come, throwing his head back, grabbing Sam's hips
with both hands and thrusting all the way in, holding there, not pulling out,
just grinding and twisting his cock as deep inside Sam as he could possibly
get, making the most beautiful little high-pitched gasping moans as he emptied
his come into Sam's ass, and God, he was the most gorgeous, perfect thing Sam
had ever seen. 
Once both brothers' heart rates were significantly closer to normal again, Dean
basically fell on top of Sam, both of them completely fucked-out and sated, and
neither with the energy or willpower to move.
After a few minutes, though, Sam groaned with discomfort as his left arm
started to fall asleep from the awkward angle at which Dean was collapsed on
top of him. 
"Dean, should we clean up?" he mumbled into his brother's shoulder. 
He expected Dean to be mostly asleep and grumpy about the thought of moving. He
did not expect Dean to raise his head and look straight into his eyes, clearly
energized and... Sam could only describe the look as lascivious. His so
recently spent cock, somehow, jumped right back to life when Dean growled: 
"Ready for round two, baby boy?" 
 
 
                                   -=-=-=-=-
                                        
                                        
Sam was partially dressed again -- sort of. Just the panties and the skirt. 
Dean was basically pretending he was a chick he'd found at a party and taken
upstairs to fuck. 
He had Sam up against the wall, facing forward, and they were kissing, rubbing
up against each other, Dean's denim-covered dick (he'd put just his jeans back
on) slowly grinding against Sam's, which was tenting the skirt obscenely. 
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby," Dean whispered into Sam's mouth. "Gonna
fuck you through the goddamn mattress." 
"Oh, shit yes," Sam whimpered. 
Suddenly, Dean had him by the shoulders, and Sam was being spun, walked
backwards a few steps, and shoved onto the bed. He spread his legs as he fell
onto his back, giving Dean access, and Dean immediately lunged forward and
mouthed at Sam's cock over the skirt, and even through two layers of fabric, it
still felt so good that Sam had to almost bite through his lip to keep himself
from yelling. 
Dean raised his head. "None of that, baby," he commanded. "I wanna hear you
scream for me." His fingers slipped under the skirt and rubbed gently along the
length of Sam's dick over the panties. "Gonna make you scream so
loud everyone downstairs will hear us, even over the music." His other hand
suddenly shot up and gave Sam's right nipple a vicious twist, and Sam gasped in
shock, hips instinctively canting upward as his breath caught in his throat.
"Everyone on the fuckin' block is gonna hear you screamin' my name before I'm
done with you."
Oh, holy motherfucking shit... 
Sam was so screwed. 
Literally. 
But Dean didn't go back to Sam's cock -- at least, not right away. He gently
straightened the skirt so that it was once again covering everything, then he
slowly crawled up the bed, passionately kissing Sam once he reached his head.
Sam once again surrendered instantly when Dean moved to take control, and he
thrust his hips up instinctively again when Dean started sucking on Sam's
bottom lip. They both got lost in the kiss for a minute, enthralled in the heat
and slickness of each other's mouths, but eventually Dean started to wander,
licking Sam's jawline, his earlobe, his neck, lightly grazing teeth over a
pulse point, slowly moving down to Sam's left clavicle and abruptly biting
down hard, but immediately moving on, not giving Sam any time to do anything
other than gasp loudly, and before he could even moan, Dean's tongue was
trailing between Sam's pecs, then back up and over the nipple he'd twisted
earlier, and oh Jesus -- 
Dean quickly realized how sensitive Sam was here and lavished attention on the
tiny nub, flicking it with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth, rolling it
between his teeth, and Sam had completely given up on trying to be quiet by the
time Dean moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. Sam was
incoherent by the time Dean moved on, tongue tracing the line between Sam's
abs, dipping quickly into his navel, but trailing off to one side once it
reached his happy trail, and it looked like Dean was about to bypass Sam's cock
entirely, prompting Sam to let out a long whine of complaint. 
Dean chuckled. "Patience, baby, I'll get there eventually." He pulled the skirt
down enough to expose the tops of Sam's hipbones, and he licked and nuzzled his
way down the left side until he reached the edge of the skirt, then he licked a
stripe across to the other hipbone, tongue staying just above the waistband of
the skirt, which was low enough now that Sam's straining cock was at the edge
of it, so as Dean's tongue passed above his cock, it was so infuriatingly close
that he could feel Dean's hot breath on his cockhead. 
"Dean --" 
"All in good time, baby boy." Dean took just as much time with the other
hipbone, then, instead of pushing the skirt down and off like Sam had expected
him to, he pushed it up, so it rucked up above his waist, panties exposed
again. He licked at the head of Sam's cock through the lace, and Sam couldn't
keep his hips on the bed. 
"Ah, ah, ah." Dean moved away, standing next to the bed. "Not yet, baby. You
want somethin' from me, I want somethin' back." 
And ohGodyes, this was the perfect opportunity. "Do you wanna fuck my mouth?"
Dean's jaw dropped. "I want you to fuck my mouth, please, Dean?" 
The look in Dean's eyes was incendiary. "Oh, fuck yes," he replied, shoving his
jeans off and straddling Sam's shoulders, knees pinning him to the bed, and Sam
immediately lunged forward and took the head of Dean's cock into his mouth. 
"Holy SHIT -
Dean's yell of surprise turned into a long moan of pleasure as Sam went to work
on his dick, bobbing up and down, cheeks hollowed, tongue swirling, tracing the
vein on the underside then coming up to tease the slit, and Sam was starting to
be afraid he'd have to do some real convincing to get Dean to believe that he'd
never done this before, based on the noises coming out of Dean's mouth. It was
the truth -- Sam had never sucked cock, but Dean's was delicious, and he just
couldn't help his enthusiasm. 
Dean wasn't moving, though, just letting Sam suck him, and that wasn't what Sam
wanted. He pulled off with a soft pop, and Dean let out a loud groan of
protest, but still didn't move to control Sam in any way. 
"C'mon, Dean, fuck my mouth. Ride it hard, I need it --" 
"Sammy, I don't wanna hurt you --"
"You were holding me down before --"
"Holding you down is very different than this, I don't wanna --"
"You won't be hurting me, Dean, don't you get it? I want you to be rough,
I want you to use my mouth. Want you to use me like a cheap whore. Please." 
And that was the end of Dean's resistance. 
After one last look into Sam's eyes to make sure that he was ready, he grabbed
Sam's hair and yanked him forward onto his cock, sinking in more than halfway
in one hard thrust, cock head hitting the back of Sam's throat. He pulled Sam
off again. "That what you want, baby boy?" 
"Yes!" Sam cried. "Oh, shit yeah, want you to fuck my throat until I pass out,
choke me out on your cock, Dean, ple-" 
Dean pulled Sam back onto his cock mid-word, holding Sam's head still and
fucking rough and fast into his mouth, Sam moaning around Dean and giving all
he could with his tongue, sucking hard, but then Dean started really driving
into him and Sam couldn't do much of anything except keep his mouth open,
Dean's cock hitting the back of his throat on each thrust, pushing further, and
now Sam couldn't breathe, which is exactly what he wanted. Dean's knees were no
longer allowing Sam any room to move, pinning him tightly to the bed as Dean's
hands tightened in his brother's hair, hips slamming into Sam's mouth, cock
driving into his throat -- and then Dean just held there, Sam's airway
completely cut off, and Dean wriggled his hips and wrenched Sam even closer,
giving another shove of his hips, sinking as far in as he could possibly go,
until Sam's lips were pressed against the base of Dean's cock, face in his
pubic hair, unable to move, unable to breathe, and loving every second of it. 
"This what you wanted, you little slut?" Dean growled, and Sam would've moaned
around Dean's cock if he could've, the dirty talk turning him on impossibly
more. "Bet you're lovin' this, gettin' fuckin' suffocated on my cock --" His
hips jerked forward again, hands still holding Sam's head in place, and Sam
tried to gag, would've, but his brother's cock was too deep in his throat, and
he was starting to see stars, the need for oxygen making itself known. He
couldn't exactly do anything about it, though, so instead, he started using his
tongue again, letting Dean know he was loving this, licking at the underside of
the shaft as best he could, hollowing his cheeks -- 
And Dean was pushing on his head again, keeping Sam pressed as far forward on
his cock as he could possibly force him, not letting up, and Sam's world went
black for just a split second before Dean finally pulled out. Not entirely,
though -- just enough so Sam could take in a huge gulp of air through his nose,
and then Dean was fucking his mouth again, thrusts not sinking quite as deep
but still deep enough that each one cut off Sam's air for a second, huge cock
sliding hard and fast over his tongue, Dean moaning and growling the filthiest
words -- "fuck, Sammy, got the best fuckin' mouth, shit, so fuckin' hot, love
your tight little throat --" 
Then, suddenly, Dean pulled out and turned around, on his hands and knees above
Sam, cock dangling above Sam's face, and lowered himself down, head going down
to the black lace panties that were drenched in precome by now, and Dean sucked
the head of Sam's aching cock into his mouth through the panties. 
And he simultaneously drove his cock back into Sam's mouth. 
Sam's orgasm came completely without warning. He shouted around the cock in his
mouth, twisting on the bed, and Dean had pulled the panties down a little as
soon as he realized Sam was coming and was now just sucking on the bare head of
Sam's cock, swallowing down the bursts of come, tonguing the slit, milking it
for all it was worth, and Sam may have actually passed out for a few seconds. 
When he came back to awareness, Dean's cock was still in his mouth, the panties
were covering his dick again but were being held off to the side lower down,
and Dean's tongue was probing at the rim of his hole. And before Sam had time
to react to that realization, the tongue was dipping inside, swirling around
the rim, probing deeper, and fuck, it felt so good -- 
And then Dean was locking his lips around the rim and sucking, tongue-fucking
his ass with short, deep jabs, the same way he was fucking Sam's mouth, and Sam
still wasn't getting quite enough air between thrusts of Dean's hips, which
made it completely impossible to concentrate on anything but the fact that he
was getting fucked at both ends, and he couldn't be getting hard again already,
not after he'd just come twice in the past half hour, not to mention one of
those being three minutes ago, it just wasn't possible -- 
But when Dean pulled his cock and tongue out of Sam, roughly flipped him onto
his hands and knees and drove into him from behind unexpectedly -- Sam began to
realize that it was, in fact, possible. 
Dean may have taken him without warning, but it wasn't at all painful -- Sam
was still plenty loose from before, and Dean's cock was very slick from the
extended amount of time it had spent in Sam's mouth. The panties were still
pushed off to the side of his hole, rubbing at the side of Dean's dick and the
side of Sam's rim, and the skirt was still up around his waist -- 
And that's when Sam realized that Dean was fucking him in both the skirt and
the panties. 
"Fuck, Dean, yeah, yeah --"  
"So fuckin' pretty in that skirt, baby," Dean rasped, snapping his hips, cock
hitting Sam's sweet spot, and Sam was gasping, eyes rolling in pure bliss.
"Gonna fuck you just like a girl, you want that, Sammy?"
And when Sam nodded, Dean grabbed his hair with one hand and pulled, yanking
Sam's head back as he shoved in to the hilt, holding Sam's waist with the other
hand and grinding his hips slowly against Sam's ass. Sam physically shuddered
with pleasure. 
"You like that, baby boy?" Dean growled, hand tightening in Sam's hair. Sam
could only whimper in reply. 
"Yeah, thought you would." And if Sam thought Dean had been fucking him hard
the first time around, it was nothing compared to now. Dean started absolutely
pile-driving his cock into Sam's ass, fucking him like he needed it to live,
hips pounding with bruising force, hands still tight on Sam's waist and in his
hair, and Sam would've collapsed onto his stomach within a few seconds if not
for the hand in his hair, letting Dean attempt to fuck him through the
mattress, through the floor, through the fucking planet -- 
Their mouths met over Sam's right shoulder, at an awkward angle but neither
brother gave a shit, Sam keening uncontrollably into Dean's mouth, Dean panting
and grunting with the effort of impaling Sam on his cock again and again and
again, hips never stopping, cock pulverizing Sam's tight virgin ass, sheathed
in burning heat, twisting and pulling and thrusting faster and faster --
And it was both far too long and not long enough before Sam and Dean were
coming together, Dean emptying a second load of come into Sam's ass, Sam
literally unable to even make a sound as his oversensitized cock shivered and
pulsed against the lace panties, coming untouched and completely dry, and the
brothers kissed each other through the most intense orgasms either of them had
ever experienced, writhing in each other's arms, joined together in every way
possible. 
A few minutes later, they were falling asleep, Sam curled in Dean's arms, and
they were happier than they had ever been before. 
Screw the rest of the world, Sam thought, echoing Dean's earlier unspoken words
as he snuggled in closer to his soul mate, his brother, the love of his life,
and drifted off to sleep. 
Love this strong can never be wrong. 
 
 
                                   -=-=-=-=-
                                        
                                        
                                        
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