
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8689357.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Established_Relationship, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Pre-
      Canon
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-10-02 Words: 1678
****** Glances ******
by Sam1Dean [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]
Summary
     Pretty much just a set up story for where the characters are in their
     relationship. A true PWP. (Silly plot bunnies show up a bit later)
     Not quite weecest. Sam is fifteen and up so Dean is nineteen and
     over.
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.
It was another typical night in the Winchester ‘household’. John was busy
leaving his tiny writing on yet another page in his God-it-must-be-full-by-now
journal. He was so involved in committing the most recent bit of information to
paper that he hardly noticed his two sons sitting across the table from each
other. Dean was glad of it for a change as he just couldn’t keep his eyes off
Sammy and his father just wouldn’t understand.
 
He watched his little brother eating supper over his homework and couldn’t keep
his mind on his own. The sandwich was one thing, but the drink was obscene. All
little pink tongue and then his cheeks hollowed out to suck the liquid up the
straw. Dean’s dick twitched in the confines of his jeans. How awful was it that
all Dean could think of was the last time Sam had those lips wrapped around his
cock. Not very if you consider how fucking amazing it was to have Sam’s
gorgeous fucking lips around your cock, but really bad when he let himself
remember that Sam was his little brother.
 
Well, his not so little brother. In the spring of ’98, Sam was still a scrawny,
whiny brat as far as Dean was concerned. Then a bunch of things happened. Sam
got big. Well not big, but really started to fill out. He turned fifteen and
had his first solo hunt and seemed to really stop whining and then it happened.
 
 
John was gone off on his own which in itself was almost enough to set Dean’s
teeth on edge, but he left them in Arkansas in June and it was hot. Dean hated
hot. There was nothing to do because he couldn’t go outside when it was like
walking on the dark side of the sun and when it got dark he couldn’t leave Sam.
Sam was irritable because Dean was irritable which irritated Dean so it was
just a whole big circle of irritation.
 
Dean hated Arkansas.
 
Dean was lying on the bed with no shirt or shoes, but still had his jeans on,
still bitching about the heat. Finally Sam couldn’t take the mood anymore and
let loose. “Will you go take a fucking cold shower or go get laid or something
because you’re driving me fucking crazy.”
 
Dean was a bit taken aback because it was unusual for Sam to cuss him out so
bad, but not so taken aback that he’d let the opportunity to ridicule his
brother get away. “Sorry to piss on your cornflakes princess. I would if I
could but I can’t leave your sorry ass here to go anywhere.”
 
“Well jack off then because you seriously need to loosen up.”
 
“And what does Sammy know about jacking off to loosen up?” The question had
come from Dean as just another exchange in the heated argument, but by the end
of it his dick had other ideas and he swallowed hard.
 
“Come on Dean, I don’t need you to teach me everything.” Dean had to be
imagining the come-hither tone in his brother’s voice . . . didn’t he? Then why
had Sam taken a step toward the bed? Had Sam just opened the button on his
jeans or had it already been open? Was Dean really thinking what he was
thinking and why wasn’t he freaking out? “Unless you want to teach me
something.” Sam finished, the inflection a question . . . or a suggestion.
 
Dean sure wasn’t imagining Sam’s long fingers teasing open the buttons on his
thin, too tight, cotton shirt. Wasn’t imagining Sam’s saunter to the edge of
the bed. Did not imagine Sam’s index finger running up his belly to tease one
of his suddenly erect nipples. Why the hell wasn’t he freaking out? His voice
cracked around the question. “What do you want me to teach you Sam?”
 
“Teach me what you like Dean?” Dear God Sam sounded about five years too young
to even be thinking about what was going to happen here. And it was going to
happen. Dean was going to hell for sure, but it was going to happen. “Teach me
how to make you happy Dean.”
 
Dean got to his knees at the edge of the bed and took Sam’s face in his hands.
“You sure?”
 
Sam’s head dipped in his brother’s hands. “Mmm, positive. I love you Dean. Show
me how to love you.” His hands dropped to his brother’s belt to undo those
damnable hot jeans. “Teach me what makes you happy.”
 
Dean couldn’t stop the low moan that escaped him and couldn’t even imagine
wanting to. Nothing in his whole life had been anywhere near as hot as hearing
that offer from Sam. Dean was the big brother here, knew he should tell Sam
that this was wrong, should just shove him away but realized that there were no
rational thoughts left in his brain. “Take it out.” Sam pushed the jeans down
and then rolled the briefs after. Dean hissed when Sam’s hand closed around his
raging hot cock and gave him one long slow stroke. “Kiss me.”
 
Sam’s kiss was unsure but determined. Their lips met, softly at first but
deepened quickly as Dean opened his mouth, his tongue forcing its way through
Sam’s lips to explore. At that moment Dean couldn’t recall any kiss before it
and damned if he wanted any but Sammy after it. What was that saying about
forbidden fruit? Dean didn’t know but fuck it, he sure wanted some.
 
Sam pushed Dean back and followed him on to the bed. He lay Dean back and
finished stripping him, throwing the jeans across the room. Sam ran his hands
across Dean’s chest and down his sides making Dean shiver and raising goose
bumps on his skin. Sam laid a wet kiss on the head of Dean’s cock and thought
it might be the last spit he had when he considered getting that thing in his
mouth, his throat and then just thinking about it his mouth watered. God, he
couldn’t think of anything he’d ever wanted more and opened his lips to take
what he could. The weight of Dean’s heavy cock against his tongue, the scent of
Dean against his nose, hearing the noises he drew from Dean’s throat was almost
a sensory overload for Sam. He reached down and released his own heavy cock
from his jeans and jockeys and gave himself a few rough strokes to ease some of
his discomfort.
 
“Oh Sammy.” Dean gasped, running his hands through Sam’s hair. “Yea baby, like
that.” Dean didn’t really need to utter his directions aloud, when his sounds
and actions told Sam he was hitting the right spots, doing the right things.
Like the way he moaned when Sam let his tongue dart into the slit and taste the
ample pre-come oozing from him. Like the way his back arched when Sam managed
to take his thick cock in his throat to the root. Like the way he hissed when
Sam pulled off with just the hint of teeth up the sides of Dean’s oversensitive
prick. Then there was the way his hand tightened in Sam’s hair signaling that
Dean was close. That was when Dean discovered the power of glances.
 
 
John was still scribbling notes in the journal when Dean realized he was rock
hard in his jeans sitting at the dinner table without an exit strategy. Dean
was too old and, his father knew, too experienced to try and explain away a
mid-dinner hard on as teen hormones. He dropped his hand below the tabletop and
tried to push the rebellious organ back into place, which only served to
provide the beautiful friction that would end his misery. And then, he
realized, he was freaking out.
Could he really be sitting here jacking off to the memory of a gut wrenching
blow job from his brother with his father a sideways glance away from catching
him? And what would he say? He hadn’t even seen a decent looking waitress for
two states. Or had he? He couldn’t say because he couldn’t think of anything
but those lips, that mouth, hands full of that hair.
 
Dean was still rubbing his engorged cock through the thick layer of his jeans
and he knew he was going to come, but couldn’t stop himself and then he must
have made a noise because Sam looked up. Those smoky hazel eyes glanced up
through the veil of his shaggy bangs, his cheeks dimpled as he slurped the rest
of his Dr. Pepper through that lucky fucking straw and he looked for all the
world just as he did when he was slurping the last of Dean’s come from him and
Dean was lost. He felt the warm wet spot on the front of his jeans just about
the same time Sam figured out what was going on. Sam licked his lips
seductively before he gave Dean a wide grin and reached out across the table
for a napkin and accidentally knocked Dean’s coke into his lap.
 
“Jesus Sam!” John snatched the journal up before it might get wet. “Watch what
you’re doing.”
 
“Sorry sir.”
 
“Well you can clean this up while your brother goes to change his clothes.”
 
“Yes sir.”
 
While Sam grabbed the rest of the napkins and started to mop the soda off the
table Dean went to rummage through his duffel. With a sly grin on his face he
bypassed the neatly folded pair of jeans for a pair of grey sweats. “Looks like
I don’t have any more clean jeans.”
 
“Well I guess you can take clumsy here out to the Laundromat, then can’t you?”
John sighed.
 
Dean looked at Sam with a knowing smile. “I guess I can.” He started throwing
random clothes into the duffel now that he had to fill a machine. “You gonna
bring your homework Sammy?”
 
“No point.” Sam couldn’t take his lust blown eyes off the tent in the front of
those grey sweats. “I can never concentrate in a Laundromat anyway.”
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