
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/219984.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Weechesters, Wincest_-_Freeform, Sibling_Incest, Facials, Oral_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-07-06 Words: 3403
****** Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence ******
by BewareTheIdes15
Summary
     "Whatcha thinking about, Sammy?" he asks, voice thick and deep enough
     to sink right through Sam's skin and set him trembling.
     "Sucking your dick," is out of his mouth before the fact-checkers in
     his brain even get a look at it and Sam's throat closes up with a
     choked sound on the next breath to try and keep him from embarrassing
     himself again.
Notes
     Title from P!nk's "Bad Influence" because I suck at titles.
Sam shoots bolt upright, warm sheets pooling around his hips; dragged out of
some half-formed dream by the explosion of metallic clanging it takes him too
long to realize is the damn motel phone. By that time, Dean's already picked it
up and Sam flops backward like a dead fish, trying to calm the spike of
adrenalin coursing through his blood. He watches the artificial light of the
television flicker blue-white-orange on the ceiling as he listens to the soft
drone of his brother's voice. Dad's going to be gone a couple of days longer
than he thought - big freaking surprise. And of course, he had to call at two
in the morning - when he knows tomorrow's a school day - to let them in on this
startling revelation. Thanks Dad.
Dean says 'yessir' for the fifty-fourth time and sets the receiver down with a
soft clang. It's not until then that Sam can actually pick out the tinny sounds
coming from the almost-muted TV - moans and gasps and holy shit, what did that
guy just say!? Bracing himself up on an elbow Sam actually looks at the screen
and then immediately drops his eyes to the sheets, face burning red. Porn!
Dean's watching freaking porn, with Sam right there in the room.
"Dude! What are you doing!" he squeaks at his brother - damn changing voice.
Dean huffs a laugh, settling back against the headboard and Sam's eyes
instantly get stuck on his brother's dick. His brother's big, hard, exposed
dick, the flickering light of electronic sex catching on the wetness at the
crown.
"You're the one in all the accelerated classes, Sammy. You figure it out."
Sam's staring, he knows it, and he's going to stop any second now but it's like
his eyes have become magnetized and Dean's cock is a lodestone. And while most
people might be a little squeamish to have their little brother openly staring
at their hard on, Dean's Dean, so he just arches under the attention and braces
a thumb at the base to make sure Sam gets a prime view.
"Can't you like, do that in the bathroom or something, like a normal person?"
He snaps, because Dean's looking too damn smug for his own good and it's making
Sam's dick twitch in a way he really shouldn't want to think about.
"How'm I gonna see the TV from the bathroom, genius?" Dean retorts, giving his
cock a little stroke to drag Sam's gaze right back down.
"D-doesn't this stuff cost money?" he really meant for that to sound forceful,
"Dad's gonna be pissed, Dean."
"Seriously," Dean rolls his eyes, hand still moving in a slow tease over the
shaft, "How many times have you seen me rig up cable? You think I'm gonna pay
for porn?" Okay, fine, Sam can accept that maybe his brother has a point there,
but he's not about to tell Dean that. Dean's friendly, "Wanna watch?" totally
throws Sam for a loop - because it was the last thing he was expecting and
because he's not really sure which part he was just invited to watch - but hell
yes, he does.
Shrugging his shoulders as casually as he can, Sam moves so his back's to the
headboard, mirroring of his brother. He shoots one last glance over at Dean,
still slowly stroking himself, then tries to focus on the television.
On the screen it's two guys and a girl on a leather couch and Sam's first
thought is how bad that has to suck - he's totally gotten stuck to the Impala's
seat after long car trips in the summer and it feels like the leather's
chemically bonded with his shorts-clad skin. Probably not what he's supposed to
be thinking about now. Then one of the guys stands up and holds out the biggest
cock Sam has ever seen - not that he's seen a lot - and the girl's opening her
mouth and okay, that's hot.
It's a close-up on the mouth, can't even really see her face, just pouty lips
wrapped slick around this long stiff cock plunging in and out and it's getting
him hard for all the wrong reasons. The air is burning in Sam's lungs, fire
pitting down into his stomach as he imagines what that would feel like; to be
stuffed that full, mouth forced open around smooth, hard flesh. It's not that
he's into guys or anything, not seriously anyway, but there's something about
the idea of being used, being wanted, like that - it makes his throat clench
reflexively.
He nearly decks Dean - hunting reflex - when his brother suddenly crashes down
onto the bed next to him, practically startling Sam out of his skin.
"Share with the class, dude," his brother grins, flipping the sheet off of
Sam's legs and leaving him with nothing to hide behind but his obviously tented
boxers. He should totally be excused for squeaking again when Dean just reaches
over, all casual-like, and freaking pulls Sam's cock out! With his hand! Dean's
hand - the hand that he had just been jerking himself off with - on Sam's dick!
That's totally squeak worthy.
Dean shoves at Sam's shoulder until his body obeys the tacit command - his
brain is still stuck on the wet splotch of Dean's precome that got wiped along
the side of his own shaft when Dean touched him - to make room on the bed.
"Gotta at least touch it, Sammy," Dean bumps Sam's shoulder with his own again
jokingly, but his voice is pitched an octave too low and it makes Sam stomach
lurch like it's trying to roll in on itself. Then his brother blinks like he
just thought of something, and when his eyes pop back open the pupils have shot
twice as wide as usual. "Don't you?"
He doesn't miss the way Dean's fingers suddenly tighten up at the base of his
dick - couldn't miss it with the way Sam's eyes keep flicking back to his
brother's swollen length every four seconds - like he has to hold himself back
and damn if it doesn't make Sam's dick leap. He can't even begin to remember
the question Dean asked him with his brother sitting this close, green eyes
boring into Sam like he can see all the dirty things in Sam's soul and likes
it.
A flash of glittering pink as Dean's tongue flickers out to wet his lips; a
nice long look at it when his brother repeats the move good and slow, watching
Sam's eyes as they follow it.
"Whatcha thinking about, Sammy?" he asks, voice thick and deep enough to sink
right through Sam's skin and set him trembling.
"Sucking your dick," is out of his mouth before the fact-checkers in his brain
even get a look at it and Sam's throat closes up with a choked sound on the
next breath to try and keep him from embarrassing himself again. As it is, he's
right on the brink of running outside and hiding under the car until Dad gets
back. Except Dean's forehead is resting on his as his brother draws in these
gasping breaths and Sam can't just leave him like that, has to at least make
sure he's okay.
"Shit, Sam" Dean exhales, "Fuckin' trying to kill me?"
"I-I didn't mean-I-uh," Sam stumbles, trying to come up with damn anything to
say to erase the fact that he just freaking propositioned his brother.
"You didn't?" Now Dean looks scared too; distracting, plump lips caught between
his teeth.
"I-" Sam's eyes skip off of Dean's, needing to look at absolutely anything else
while he tries to figure out how to lie to the one person he was never taught
to. They end up right back on Dean's straining shaft - leaking precome like a
faucet until it's sliding over the fingers Dean still has gripped tight around
his base - and Sam really didn't mean to lick his lips, he was just so scared
he was about to drool, but all it does is make Dean moan like a bitch.
"Have you ever?" his brother asks, nose nudging against Sam's.
Sam can't make his mouth work right to answer, throat clicking as he swallows
around the fiery ball of ice lodged there. Instead he just shakes his head
against Dean's and tries not to pant like a dog even though his hammering heart
isn't getting nearly enough air. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen to the brain
that makes him open up when Dean lifts his fluid-stained fingers toward Sam's
mouth, but whatever it is, his throbbing dick is grateful for it. Sam licks at
the digits tentatively, brain still trying to process the 'what the fuck' while
his body's stuck on 'feels so good'.
The flavor melts across his tongue, strong and bitter-sweet and a lot like his
own from the times his been brave enough or turned on enough to taste it. He
feels his eyelids flutter closed and the starved noise that worms its way out
of his throat and then he's got three of Dean's finger shoved as far inside his
mouth as they will go.
His brother shudders on the bed next to him, rough fingertips stroking -
goddamn petting - Sam's tongue as he works the slick muscle into each dip and
crevice. He sucks until there's nothing left on Dean's skin but the taste of
Sam's own saliva and whines, then his big brother leans in close and whispers,
"Lots more where that came from," in a voice that sounds blistered and raw.
That's exactly how Sam wants his throat to feel - wants it to feel that way
because of the thrust of Dean's thick cock - and he's going down for it so fast
his stomach jumps.
His brother coaxes him with his hand until Sam's settled between Dean's wide-
spread thighs and he's face to face with the wet, flexing opening of his
brother's dick. The musky, body smell is so strong from here - air thinned out
and replaced by 'Dean' - every inhale flares the fire in Sam's lungs, every
exhale sending skittering tingles across his chest that pebble his nipples. A
part of him really wants to get his fingers on the stiff nubs the way he does
sometimes when he jerks off, but he's too focused on Dean's cock and the urgent
whimpers his brother is making as he shifts his hips fitfully under Sam's gaze.
Again he starts with a tentative lick, this time right to the slit. Dean gasps
and bucks up so hard that Sam's got a stripe of his brother's fluid slicked
from under his chin all the way up his cheek. Sam groans because now he's not
going to get to taste that but Dean's cursing a blue streak that sounds more
like a prayer, running his thumb right along the edge of that stripe like it's
the prettiest thing he's ever seen. In fact, his brother may have said
something to that effect, but it's so hard to pay attention to little things
like words when he's got big things like Dean's cock resting against his lips.
He hasn't got a clue what he's doing - except for the abbreviated glimpse of
the now ignored porno playing in the background, he's only ever seen pictures
of this in the magazines Dean sneaks him - but he parts his lips anyway, just
enough to slide the swollen head inside his mouth, and gives it a hesitant
suck. Dean's hips surge up again, so fast that the blunt head slams into the
back of Sam's throat and brings him up coughing and sputtering.
Dean's right there, apologizing over and over as he smoothes the hair back from
Sam's face compulsively.
"I'm okay," Sam promises, even though his voice has gone rough now too, and
Dean only puts up a half-hearted resistance as Sam leans back down over his
dick. He holds himself there for a second, eyes flicking up to his brother and
Dean writhes with a hiss the second their gaze meets.
The older boy snatches Sam's hands, settling them on Dean's hips and pressing
firmly.
"Just- just hold me down. Don't want to hurt you," Dean pleads head nodding in
answer to some question Sam didn't hear. Sam does as he's told - 'for once'
Dean's voice snarks in his head - forcing as much weight as he can onto the
sturdy wings of bone and closes his mouth over his brother's straining erection
again.
Another suck to the head has Dean cussing, a spurt of precome splashing onto
the flat of Sam's tongue and he moans around it, pulling harder with his mouth
as Dean's voice and body encourage him on.
"That's it, so good, fucking drink me," Dean babbles as Sam nurses at the
flowing tip. Slowly Sam works himself lower, taking more of Dean into his mouth
with every slow bob of his head.
Dean's thighs are shaking by the time Sam's got the head bumping at the back of
his throat again, a whole cavalcade of 'filthy, wrong, have to stop' flooding
out of Dean's mouth that doesn't even come close to matching the heavy press of
his hand on the back of Sam's head, keeping him right where he is.
Sam's skin is crawling in the best possible way; everything inside him humming
electric with the weight of Dean's dick on his tongue, the way his brother
shakes and thrashes if Sam thrusts the point of his tongue into the slit. The
fact that he can do this, make Dean want him like this, is a hot dump of liquid
thrill along his nerves and he's never going to stop needing it now that he's
been here.
His own heavy cock presses into his stomach on every downstroke. He carefully
slides one hand down from his brother's hips into his own lap but before he can
get a good grip, the sharp pain of Dean tugging his hair to pull him up has him
gasping.
"Come on me," Dean commands, the fierceness sparking in his eyes wrecked by his
breathy voice. "Want you to blow your wad all over my cock and watch you lick
it up."
"Shit," is the best response Sam can manage, Dean's words setting off rolls of
pure voltage in him as his system shuts down to 'do that now'.
He hadn't even been paying much attention to the aching pressure of his own
hard-on, but now that he is, even the stroke of his own fingers is as much pain
as it is pleasure on the ignored flesh. Dean's goading him on, harsh whispered
obscenities hanging in the heated air - telling Sam he's beautiful, he's a
slut, he's all Dean's and it's just making Sam's cock pulse harder. He's so
close, coming right up on it with the hard stripping of his fingers, then
Dean's hand twists in his hair and his brother barks out rough and deadly
serious,
"Come!"
And Sam couldn't hold back if he wanted to; the 'do that now' part of him
roaring to the surface with a vengeance, needing to do anything, everything
Dean says because it's so right, so good and the world's sizzling out to silver
haze as he arches and shoots all over his brother's groin.
Dean's dick, his balls, are covered in Sam's milky thickness; it's so fucking
hot Sam's dick hasn't even wilted to half-hard before it's filling back up
again. He doesn't need the encouragement of Dean's hand pushing him back down,
but he takes it anyway, revels in the force of his brother's need for him.
Sam laps at the velvet skin of Dean's sac, sparse hairs prickling at his lips
and he's not even close to finished there when the urge to go lower hits. He
rolls with it, tongue seeking the errant drops of his come spilled onto his
brother's dark, secret skin, finding the furled mouth of Dean's opening and
that gets Dean squirming just as hard as the sucking did. Sam's making a hell
of a mess, come smeared all over his cheeks and nose and chin, licking up
everything he can get at.
Laving around the base makes Dean's hands slap flat to the bed, these choked
off keening noises eking out around his brother's clenched teeth. Dean's only
saying one word now, stuttering it out under his breath - Sam's name over and
over and over. The smooth expanse of Sam's throat is pressed against Dean's
balls as he laps his brother's cock clean and he can feel the sac draw tighter
the higher he licks. Precome is still pouring from the head, blood flooding
under the skin in heavy, jumping pulses Sam can time with his questing tongue
and he knows his brother's not going to make it much longer. He's going to make
sure of it.
Sam lays down one long, wet lick on the underside of Dean's cock, then without
warning, clamps his teeth around the delicate knot of nerves under the head and
Dean goddamn screams to high heaven. Slick heat shoots hard against the side of
Sam's face, spattering into his hair and if that's not better than coming it's
freaking close. He did that. He made his brother come like that - like his
spine was shooting out of his dick - and left him boneless and mewling. And
that's just awesome.
"Jesus, Sammy. Fuck," Dean gasps, one hand pressing over his heart like he's
trying to keep it in his chest. "What-" he starts, then seems to think better
of it, grabbing Sam's hand and pulling him to lay half on top of Dean's body
instead.
His brother sweeps a thumb through the cooling mess on Sam's cheek then kisses
softly and his overheated, puffy lips. Sam's brain shorts out, whole body
freezing up because for some demented reason kissing his brother seems a whole
lot dirtier that sucking his dick. Dean's tongue slides along the seam of Sam's
closed lips, then his slick thumb pushes at Sam's chin, opening Sam's mouth to
let himself in when his little brother can't take the hint.
Dean's tongue rolls around inside Sam's mouth for a while, searching out all of
the soft, sensitive places that make his breath catch and Sam can't do anything
but lay back and let him. At last Sam's mouth is released, a final quick kiss
turning into a couple dozen nibbling caresses before Dean heaves a sigh and
pulls back. He stares at Sam like he's a stranger, but a smile slowly creeps
its way onto the corners of Dean's mouth.
"You're a mess kid," he grins, flicking at the shambles of come in Sam's hair.
Sam shrugs his shoulders and whumps down into a pillow; his brother's smiles
are infectious.
"C'mon," Dean taps his leg, "Shower. I am not gonna listen to you whine about
dried jizz in your hair tomorrow." Sam groans his disapproval but Dean's got a
hold on one wrist, practically dragging him off of the bed and hustling him
toward the bathroom. His brother pantses Sam as soon as his feet hit cold tile,
forgotten boxers ripped down his legs into a puddle on the ground. Sam puts on
the best glare he can muster, but that's not saying much when his muscles feel
all mellow and contented. "Go on," his brother jerks a stubbled chin toward the
shower, and leers "Be a good boy and maybe I'll let you blow me again after."
Sam's dick rockets back to hard - he never got around to taking care of it the
second time - and he leers right back at Dean as his brother's eyes travel down
to it.
"Think you can get it up again, old man?" he smirks, voice coming out way more
gravelly than he expected.
Dean straightens his head, emphasizing the scant two inches in height he still
has on Sam, and quips "You just worry about yourself, small fry. I got no
problem taking that ass for a ride too."
It's completely wrong that those words make Sam's cock smack audibly into his
belly, but he doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and leans
to turn on the shower. Dean lingers a couple of seconds too long while Sam is
bent over, then slips back into the bedroom out of sight. Sam hopes Dean's
ready to live up to that promise; it's going to be one hell of a short shower.
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