
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/977002.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Weecest, Weechesters, Blow_Jobs, Deepthroating, Smut, Plot_What_Plot/Porn
      Without_Plot, Tumblr_Prompt
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-22 Words: 1279
****** Help You ******
by sixtysevenlmpala
Summary
     Also posted on tumblr.
     Written for wincheeser's prompt: "weecest, deep throating with dean
     stroking sam's throat to take it all."
     This is basically that.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
“C’mon, Dean, please.”
Sam’s wheedling voice came from somewhere around Dean’s crotch level where he
was kneeling on the floor before him, wide doe eyes gazing up, skinny little
fingers hooked in the waistband of Dean’s jeans. Dean was hard, Jesus was he
hard, and he couldn’t ignore how Sam’s eyes flicked surreptitiously to the
denim-clad bulge right in front of his face, how his fingers twitched as he
stopped himself again and again from touching it. Dean hummed out a considering
noise, stroked fingertips lightly through Sam’s hair. It was getting long.
Sam huffed impatiently, shifted on his knees. “I can do it this time, I swear.
I can take it, I wanna,” he insisted, fourteen-year-old voice cracking a
little.
“You choked last time,” Dean mused softly, forcing himself to keep his voice
even and slow as he slid a hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “A
lot, actually. Sure you can handle it, princess?”
Sam shuffled closer so that his mouth was hovering inches away from Dean’s
crotch, biting his lip as he met Dean’s eyes. “I swear I can,” he said quickly.
“I just—I can, if you just help me.”
“That right?” Dean murmured. “Want me to make you take it all the way?”
Sam swallowed and nodded eagerly. “I want to. I wanna do it for you, Dean,” he
whined, and Dean allowed a rush of breath to leave his body, as well as the
last of his restraint. Sam’s conviction was enough to make his head spin,
‘cause God knew Dean wanted him to do it, too. He’d never been able to deep-
throat Dean, despite how many times they’d tried; always slid down about three-
quarters of the way and pulled off coughing and spluttering and apologising to
the nines, swearing to do better next time and already begging to try again.
“Yeah,” Dean said, “okay,” and he slid his belt out of the buckle and left it
hanging loose, unzipped his jeans just enough to take his cock out. He squeezed
himself at the base and slowly twisted his fist up the shaft and back down in
one torturous slide; his eyes threatened to close but he forced them open to
watch the look of pure hunger take over his baby brother’s face. “C’mon, then,
kiddo,” he muttered, “gimme your best.”
Sam smiled, relieved and easy, before leaning forward and sucking the head of
Dean’s cock into his mouth like he was starving for it. Dean watched the
shudder that chased through Sam’s small, lean body, goose-bumps raising tiny
hairs all over those pale miles of bare skin. He’d already stripped when Dean
walked through the door, all ready and waiting. Dean wasn’t complaining.
He tipped his head back with a drawn-out, “Fuuuuck,” and threaded his fingers
through Sam’s hair, tugging sharply. Sam whimpered and hollowed his cheeks,
slipping further and further until his lips met Dean’s fist, gripping the base
of his cock. Sam made another breathy sound, imploring with his eyes, and Dean
eventually moved his hand away. Immediately, Dean’s cock was surrounded by
smooth, wet heat, the tip just barely brushing the back of Sam’s throat. “God.
That’s it, baby,” Dean breathed, cheeks aflame with arousal and matching the
pretty pink of Sam’s.
Dean tightened his grip on Sam’s hair and pulled him down slowly, at such an
agonising pace that his knees kind of melted and he had to concentrate just to
stay standing. His cock slid between Sam’s pouty lips, and Sam moaned before
Dean even could when the head of his cock slipped down Sam’s throat. Fuck, and
this was it, this was always as far as they got before—
There was sudden pressure pushing up against the palms of Dean’s hands and a
wild contraction of Sam’s throat as he started to cough. Dean let him up
immediately, thumbs stroking at Sam’s cheeks and over his flushed little face
as he coughed. “Easy, hey, take it easy, little brother,” Dean reassured him,
and Sam looked up at him with such a sad look that Dean’s heart cracked as much
as it could with his dick so fucking hard.
“I’m sorry, sorry, I...” Sam breathed, looking so fucking disappointed in
himself, and Dean bent down to kiss him, soft and comforting. “I wanna try
again,” Sam said, fierce and determined, and Dean pulled back, dubious.
“Sammy, I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said in his most stern tone – which, when
it came to Sam, wasn’t all that stern at all – but Sam shook his head,
typically stubborn.
“I want,” Sam insisted, “to try again.” Dean looked down into his face and, as
always, couldn’t seem to remember the word ‘no’.
“Fine,” Dean murmured, stroking Sam’s hair out of his face and remembering
Sam’s words from earlier, “I’ll help you.”
It seemed like instantly that Sam had Dean’s cock in his mouth again, and Dean
grunted out a surprised moan, gripping Sam’s hair. Sam was making all these
tiny, eager noises, inching himself down Dean’s cock way too fast, and Dean was
suddenly struck by an idea. Keeping one hand fisted in Sam’s hair, he slid the
other down the side of his brother’s neck and around to his throat, fingertips
lightly stroking at the skin. Sam shivered.
“You want my cock, huh, Sammy – want all of it,” Dean muttered. “Gonna help
you, okay, baby? C’mon.”
He pressed meaningfully down on the back of Sam’s head, feeding him more and
more of his cock until he felt that familiar point of resistance. This time,
though, when Sam’s throat muscles started to flutter, Dean moved his thumb to
rest over the centre of his throat, just under his adam’s apple. Sam’s eyes
slipped shut as Dean stroked his thumb in a sure, soothing line down Sam’s
throat.
It was how he’d got Sammy to take his medicine whenever he was ill as a kid,
the only thing that’d ever work for the stubborn little bastard. And fuck if it
didn’t work like a goddamn dream now, Sam humming contentedly as his throat
relaxed around the head of Dean’s cock, the most blissed-out look Dean had ever
seen pasted across his flushed face. “Fuck, Sammy, that’s—that’s it,” Dean
groaned, keeping up the rhythmic, calming movement of his thumb on Sam’s
throat, the grip of his hand strong and intimate on his neck.
He sucked in a shaky breath and risked pushing a little harder on the back of
Sam’s head, hips stuttering and jerking his cock a little further down Sam’s
throat. Sam moaned in earnest, muffled around his mouthful, and pushed forward
by himself, nose meeting the patch of coarse hair above Dean’s dick and holy
shit that’s definitely Dean’s whole cock in Sam’s mouth.
Dean moaned, pulling back a little only to thrust in a little harder, his dick
sliding easily into the tight, velvet squeeze of Sam’s throat. His hand was
shaking as he stroked Sam’s throat now, and he gasped, “Jesus, Sam, yeah – I’m
gonna – fucking Christ so fuckin’ good,” as he tugged on Sam’s hair and came
hard and fast straight down his throat.
The next thing Dean knew, he’d fallen – extremely ungracefully – to his knees
in front of Sam. “Told you I could,” Sam said with a grin, and his voice was
scratched to shit, hoarse and grating in his throat. Dean grabbed his face with
both hands and pulled him into a sloppy kiss that was all tongue and no
finesse, swallowing Sam’s little gasp as he finally reached for his cock.
“Knew you could, too,” Dean muttered, his thumb stroking carefully down the
delicate line of Sam’s throat.
End Notes
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