
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/14073291.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Non-Consensual_Somnophilia, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Mating_Cycles/In
      Heat, rapist_pov, Knotting
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-24 Words: 1825
****** Fever Cherry Pie ******
by fastandfilthy_(IndridGrey)
Summary
     Sammy's passed out on tranqs and smells irresistible.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Sam was whimpering, eyes hazy and hands shaking, as he curled tighter under the
thick fleece motel blanket.  Dean cussed as he watched from the bathroom
doorway and silently begged his father to pick up his phone.  He’d already
tried twice and he didn’t know what he’d do if it kept ringing out.
“Dean?  You know I’m on a stakeout.”
Oh thank God.  “Dad, Sammy just went into heat,” he whispered, “I don’t—I don’t
know what to do.  He looks bad and he says it hurts.”
“Goddamn it.  Okay.  Dean.  First off, calm down because your brother needs
your help.  An omega’s first heat is always rough, and he’s just going to have
to tough it out.  Have him take a cold shower, make him drink some water,
okay?  Then look in the med kit I left.  There should be some pills in an
orange bottle.  Give Sam half of one.  That’ll knock him out for a while so
he’s not so uncomfortable.  I should be done with this hunt in the next couple
hours, then I’ll head straight back.  It should look kind of like a flu, Dean. 
If it gets worse than a flu, call me.  If it looks real bad and you can’t get
ahold of me, take him to the ER.  Do not leave him alone unless you absolutely
have to, like don’t-have-food have to.  You got all that?”
“Yessir.”
“Good.  I’ll see you soon.  Tell Sam not to fight it; it’s gonna happen
anyways, no reason to make it even crappier.”
“Yessir.”
The line went dead and Dean loitered in the doorway for a split second.  He’d
helped a few girls through their heat, but they’d just been insatiable, not a
scared ball of misery and confusion.  And they hadn’t smelled like this, their
scent hadn’t made his palms sweat and his stomach flip.
He strode across the room and crouched down beside the bed to meet Sam’s
barely-focused eyes.
“Alright, Sammy,” he said with a hell of a lot more confidence than he felt,
“let’s get you a shower and then into bed, okay?”
:::
Twenty minutes later, Sam was passed out under a bundle of blankets, and Dean
sighed as the last of his anxiety faded.  Now he just had to wait for dad to
get back.  Thank god Dean had stayed in tonight.  As sweet as Tammy Flint’s
rack was, helping his baby brother through his first heat was way more
important.  He took in a deep breath.  He’d been figuring Sammy was omega
considering the shrimp was still such a shrimp; it was a whole other ballpark
to smell the confirmation.
Dean tucked his hand under Sam’s bangs to feel his forehead, then grabbed the
thermometer from the first aid kit.  Sam’s mouth opened with a little sigh the
second Dean touched it, like an invitation.  He leaned close to guide the metal
tip under Sam’s tongue, and gently pushed his mouth closed on the glass stick.
Crap.  Now that the kid wasn’t freaking out, Sammy smelled absolutely divine:
sweet and tart and alluring.  Dean was panting and aching in his jeans as he
nuzzled down to the base of Sam’s throat.  God, none of the girls Dean had
messed around with had smelled half this good.  Tammy Flint didn’t even hold a
candle.
The soft click of the thermometer hitting Sam’s teeth when his hold faltered
startled Dean—when had his mouth gotten on Sam’s skin?  Shit.  He jerked back
and took the thermometer with him as he fell on the other bed, pulse racing. 
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Just over 102, not high enough to be dangerous yet.
Dean tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it was no use.  The air was
thick with Sam.  He couldn’t leave, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to open a
window and advertise that an unclaimed omega was in heat in their room.  He
just needed to keep calm until Dad got back.  No problem.
Except his gaze kept landing on Sam’s soft, open mouth.  His flushed cheeks. 
His tense eyebrows that told Dean that he was still uncomfortable, even in
sleep.  Dean could help with that.  Sam’s little omega body was aching for a
knot.  Dean had one of those.
He crawled over to Sam’s bed and inched a hand under the blankets to touch the
smooth skin of Sam’s tummy.  A tiny moan left his brother, and the allure of
his scent spiked.  Dean’s pulse was loud in his ears as he tugged the blankets
away, revealing Sam bit by bit.  It was his baby brother—tan skin, beauty
marks, thin chest, round lips, petite stiffy tenting his pajamas, innocent and
oblivious—and Dean wanted like he never had before.
He stripped Sam of his bottoms slow and gentle, relishing the limp weight of
Sam’s cut-string limbs, until Sam was completely bare.  Dean followed the scent
down Sam’s body, past the hard cock, to tuck his nose under the hairless sac. 
Fuck, he needed.  But did he risk waking Sam up by turning him over?
It turned out to be easier than he’d hoped.  He had only started to tip Sam on
to his side before Sam took over and flopped onto his stomach.  For a terrified
second Dean thought he’d woken up, but Sam settled after a small wiggle.  He
didn’t respond to Dean’s whispers of his name, to the gentle prodding against
his arm.  Still passed out.
Dean wanted to strip down, feel every inch of Sam’s heat-warm skin against his
own, but he couldn’t risk being caught bare ass naked.  He catalogued the feel
as he skimmed his hands over Sam’s back and ass.  His breath was shaking when
he finally pulled Sam’s cheeks apart to reveal the shiny sphincter.  His baby
brother squirmed a little and gave a soft sigh when Dean ran his thumb over the
hot entrance.  His slick tasted just like he smelled, with an added underlying
saltiness, and Dean couldn’t be assed to try to stay quiet as he unbuckled his
belt.  The second his cock was freed from his jeans, he sunk a finger in Sam’s
ass.
By the time he was three fingers deep, Sammy was giving little noises.  Dean
was watching his face avidly for signs of waking and was trying not to think
about how hard his cock was.  Slick dripped down his fingers when he pulled
them out and he was panting again as he watched Sam’s hips hitch in protest. 
He sucked every bit of Sam’s sultry slick off his hand before he spread Sam’s
legs—and god, they went so easy, so soft and malleable and Dean could do
anything he fucking wanted, could slam home and it’d be too late for Sam to
stop him—
Dean needed to keep what control he could.  If Sam woke up, Dean was fucked.
He took a deep breath before leaning over Sam and lining his cock up to the
stretched hole.  He gave two gentle nudges to feel out his angle and give Sam’s
body a cue to relax, then pushed.  Sam whined high in his throat and flinched
as Dean slid in slow but sure into his virgin ass.  Dean didn’t stop until he
bottomed out and the wrinkled skin where his knot would pop was flush against
Sam’s cheeks.  His little brother’s scent didn’t have anything on his ass,
Jesus Christ, so hot and wet and welcoming him into its tight grip.  He bit his
lips to hold in his groans and watched Sam’s face.  His mouth was open with his
heavy breathing, and his cheeks were pinker than before, but he was still out. 
Completely unaware that his big brother had just popped his cherry, was barely
restraining himself from screwing his brains out.
An adrenaline-shaky breath left Dean as he pulled out slightly before grinding
back in.  Fuck yes, oh god.  He set a slow, deep rhythm of fucking into Sammy,
drawing little moans out of his baby brother when he hit just the right spot,
and working up a lather of slick around the base of his cock.  Dean could have
stayed there forever with leisurely pleasure lighting up his nerves, but then
he noticed that Sam was drooling onto his pillow and it hit him sharper than
before: he was having the best sex of his life fucking his passed out baby
brother who couldn’t raise a hand to stop him, was just laying there and taking
Dean’s fat alpha cock in his virgin ass, none the wiser.  Dean’s knot swelled
as he stared at the drool on Sammy’s pink mouth and the brief thought that he
really shouldn’t knot the kid was lost under sheer lust.
Sam’s breath hitched on another whine as Dean pushed his swollen knot into the
tiny hole that had barely fit his cock.  But it was like Sammy’s body was
fucking built to take him.  Sam’s ass clamped down on his knot and sucked him
in until he could feel his cockhead bumping the firm resistance of his cervix. 
Goddamn it, he was filling his boy up to the brim, not an inch of his omega
insides was untouched by Dean’s cock.  Dean’s groan echoed Sam’s keen as he
ground in against his cervix and finally, god, finally came harder than he ever
had in his fucking life.  The tiny hitching of his hips as he shot made him
want to fuck Sammy all over again because already he could feel how wet his
insides were, all the heat-slick joined by Dean’s cum.
The reality of the situation sank it far too early.  Dean was still out of
breath, sweating like a pig, and tied to his little brother, who was thankfully
still passed out.  Except the room stank of sex, his dad was going to be back
before it would fade, he’d just—shit, he’d just raped Sam.  The thing he loved
most in the world.  And he was pretty sure he’d do it again if he had the
chance.  Fuck.  Fuck.
If he wasn’t murdered by their father, he might have to do it himself.  The
only other option, really, would be to make Sam his.  If they were bonded,
Sam’s survival would be enmeshed with Dean’s.  As bullheaded as his brother
was, though, if Dean forced it, they’d both be absolutely miserable for the
rest of their lives.  Shit.
His flaccid dick slid out of Sam’s drenched insides and Dean watched their
fluids gush out of Sam’s puffy hole, down his taint, to pool between his spread
thighs.  Dean sat back on his heels, tucked his damp cock back in, and climbed
off the bed.
This time the thermometer read just shy of 100.  Dean sighed and rubbed the
hand that still smelled like slick across his face.  It was now or never.  He
brushed his little brother’s bangs back.
“Sammy.”
End Notes
     just some filth :) and a fill for the somnophilia square on my
     spnabobingo card
     feedback is appreciated <3
     cross-posted to tumblr
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