
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/535891.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Mildly_Dubious_Consent, POV_Dean_Winchester, Wincest_-_Freeform, First
      Time, Sam_is_16
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-09-30 Words: 2838
****** Meet Me Halfway Down (The Hard Fall Remix) [NC-17 Sam/Dean] ******
by write_light
Summary
     Summary: Inside Dean Winchester's head is not the safest place to be
     at the best of times, but when he's gotten just drunk enough to think
     he can teach Sam a lesson, well, that's when the roller coaster
     clicks over the top and plunges down the other side. And Sam's
     greased the tracks.
Title: Meet Me Halfway Down (The Hard Fall Remix)
Author:
write_light
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: underage Sam (16), bottom!Dean, first time, dubious dub-con
shenanigans, whiskey, virginity lost, Dean POV
Word Count: 2300
Music: Pearl Jam, "Get Right"
A/N: Thanks to my original author gold_bluepoint for such an intriguing story –
I hope you enjoy my twist on it. Also a big thank you to my betas, same_space
and afg1. Finally, thanks to the kamikazeremix mods, poisontaster and
girlguidejones for making the competition work so flawlessly.
Original Story: The_Harder_They_Fall by gold_bluepoint
Summary: Inside Dean Winchester's head is not the safest place to be at the
best of times, but when he's gotten just drunk enough to think he can teach Sam
a lesson, well, that's when the roller coaster clicks over the top and plunges
down the other side. And Sam's greased the tracks.
 

"God I'm drunk. I'm so drunk." I need to weave more- slur the words. "Sooo
drunnnk."
So drunk I can't park you right, baby? No way. Could I ever be that drunk? I'll
take care of you, even if Dad thinks you're still his. He thinks Sam belongs to
him too. Don't worry, I can take care of everything.
Even when I'm fake drunk. Even when I’m gonna go lie next to Sam and pretend I
don't hear him jacking off, pretend I didn't hear my name the other night
again, pretend this isn't what our life is, really. Fucker strokes it twice a
night and I have to hear it, that's bad enough. I didn't need names.
Baby's purr fades out and night rushes in, full of little noises – the engine
cooling, the motel sign buzzing neon red, but mostly it's my heart pounding
like I just took a swing at a ghost and he swung back. Faster than the crickets
now. You do that, Sam, just being around you.
Shit. Cabin's dark. I wonder if he's in bed already. I wonder if he's asleep.
I'll make a lot of noise going in – that'll wake him up. Not gonna jump my
brother while he's asleep. He's gonna see me coming.
"Heh, see me coming."
Fuck, why did I swallow that third whiskey? I just needed a little on my
breath. Gotta stay focused, let Sam think he's in charge.
I slam the car door and weave along the warm hood, warmer than the Texas
night.  Some guy from two cabins down opens his door and scurries toward the
vending machines, looking at me once. I stagger a bit, see if he buys it, and
he stops, actually stops and stares for a second. My face is so fucking hot,
god dammit. He looks like Dad.
Oh hey, Dad. Yeah, just gonna go see what Sam wants from me. Probably not sex.
Probably not what I think he wants.
"Christ, I'm fucking doomed."
Sam you better be deep asleep. Make me sit there and wait; let me just fall
asleep in my own bed so this doesn't happen.
I try out some lines, to see if there's anything I can say without looking
away, or puking.
"I like you Sam, just… we're brothers." God. Try again. "I like you Sam, but…
Not. Gonna. Happen. No way, no how. Not with my own brother. Never." Boy, I
doth protest too much.
Gotta be straight with him.
"Heh, straight with him."
Shit, I need a gun. I need to end this now before it leads us someplace we
can't find our way back from.
"You need to get your dick out of your hand and leave me out of your little 16-
year-old horndog freak fantasies."
The scurrying man from before, now with a mountain of cubes in his ice bucket
threatening to avalanche across the warm cement, stops on the way back.
Okay, I said that way too loud. And I need to be having this conversation in my
head until I get inside.
Dude looks surprised to see the same staggering man, rubbing his hand back and
forth across his head like he's putting out a fire, or trying to start one. I'm
not sure which one I'm doing.
But it feels good. It feels real.
***
The door of our cabin cries out. It wasn't so loud in the daytime. Now it
screeches through the entire room like a banshee. Foretelling the death of my
innocence. Hah! When did that first die? Twelve? Or seven, on that hunt for the
shtriga? I need to take better care of you, Sammy.
Keep muttering. Overcompensate to hide the drunk. FEEL the whiskey. BE the
whiskey.
The moon's over my shoulder, and there, in the light it shines into our little
shithole of a cabin, a tall kid lies sprawled across the bed, one leg hanging
off the end, the other pulled up, knee level with the small of his back. He's
shining with August sweat.
Jeez, Sammy, cover up. I can see your horse-balls lyin' there. I could be any
crazy sicko and you're on your belly, ass free to the world. Any crazy sicko,
not your crazy sicko pervert brother who's gonna show you why it's wrong to
fuck around.
"'S me, Sammy." Nicely played.
He doesn't move.
"Saaaaaammyyyyyy." Fuck, I'm drunk, not a Disney ghost.
I give the door a hard slam. Like I do when I'm drunk.
"Mmmf?"
Shit. Woke him up
"Dean?"
"Youuuu betcha. Fuck, I got so drunk tonight. Met this chick who wanted to-"
"And you drove home like that?"
Always the same question, like I have a choice.
"Yeah, Sam, drove home." Careful, too sober there.
I can't see a damn thing in this fucking cabin with its fucking blackout
shades. My bed's over on the left somewhere, near Sam's voice… and I'm feeling
around into the dark now, little spots in front of my eyes and the room shifts
under me. Fuck, I am not that drunk.
"You're on MY bed, Dean."
"No, can't be." Yeah, I could be. I am sitting down. Time for Plan B.
I belch – that makes you flinch, huh, Sammy? Then I stand up awkwardly and
stumble right into the fucking immovable nightstand between our beds.
"Turn on a light if you have to, Dean."
You sound pissed off. Good. It's just another night with your asshole older
brother. I'll just settle down on my own bed and lay back on my own pillow-
"Dean, you're back in my bed again."
Shit. Just let this not be happening. Just let me be in my own bed. The room is
spinning now and my neck is way too warm.
"Fucking cabins with no A/C."
"Dean-"
"Sammy, just let me rest."
"Dean, you can't- "
You're spooked. What the hell, Sam? Winchesters don't get spooked.
"Dean, you're lying on my leg."
"Whaaaaat? No I'm nooooot." Christ, that was 'annoying teen girl,' not 'drunk
brother.'
When I turn my head to protest, I can feel leg muscles tensing under me and I
plant my face right into Sam's ass cheeks. Which make an awesome pillow. I have
to stop nuzzling his ass.
And then I stand up way too fast and end up in my own bed, finally, by falling
face first into it. Too little too late. Or something like that. No, that's not
the right expression. This isn't going well.
"Dean, dammit, where were you? Having drinks at some dive bar with a tall
brunette?"
"How the fuck do you-?"  And you're all over me me now, hands on my shirt,
trying to get me to sit up. Naked and your hands all over me. I could just go
with this.
Our heads smack together, and stars are everywhere, and then your hands are on
my face, and I reach out – Should I still try to be drunk? - and I connect with
something warm and solid - Holy fuck you're hard!
"Why are you naked, Sam?" Who cares if it's a fucking sauna? Dad taught us
better. "We need to be ready to go, any second, not lying around naked."
Warm hands on my neck, behind my head. You're going to lay me down gently so I
can go to sleep and forget this? Nope, your mouth's half an inch from mine, and
breathing hard.
I can still be the drunk brother. I go limp. And what do you do?  You run your
lips over mine, the way girls do when they can't get at me fast enough, when
they can't wait for me to kiss them- God help me it isn't bad.  Greasy face,
stubble growing in, but not bad.  Subtle.  Not my style but totally you, Sam.
 Subtle.
"Dean, lie down. Let me do this."
Your lips are grazing my cheek now, moving up to my ear, every word lasting so
long, it seems like half the night passes with you around me, warm breath and
whiskey and… you don't know what you're gonna do next, do you, Sam? I can still
stop you before it's too late.
"Sammy, no, you go to bed."
"Like hell. I've got a drunk brother to take care of."
"Don't need fixing, dammit, Sam."
"Lie down."
Strong arms push a lot harder now and I tip back on the pillow, but now you're
in the perfect position to flip over – I can totally get you on your back but
you keep pulling my shirt down over both of my hands fuck you're a strong
little fucker. You never used that move before.
"Dean, shut up and stop squirming."
My belt whistles out of the loops, burning my sides, cracking sharp against the
wall. This is gonna leave a mark.
"Can undress m'self."
"No, Dean, you're too drunk. You can barely walk. You fell on my bed with your
face an inch from my balls."
And you got my shirt open and my jeans unzipped in under a minute. Who the fuck
taught you these moves?
"And you're hard, Dean."
Why do you sound so happy about that? And why am I hard? Hell, I'm Dean
Winchester, I'm always hard. Must be the whiskey, or the warm hands on my
fucking cock-
"Jesus, Sam, stop it. I can do this myself!"
Why are you chuckling, Sam? Because I'm drunk, I can't resist, right? I'm
powerless and this is what you need. What you jack off thinking about, even -
and that's your mouth - it's a fucking furnace-
"Godgodgod - Sam!"
Too good at this to be the fucking virginal prick you act like. I can't even
think straight the way you're sucking my cock so fucking good-"Teeth, Sam,
teeth!" –and you're right back at it, running that long tongue of yours around
the head of my cock. You didn't get this good without some practice.
"Who the fuck have you been screwing around with, Sammy?" And now I'm the
clingy girlfriend. I should have thought this through better.
"Dean, you big goon. Trailing me around school, watching me like a hawk? I
haven't needed your protection in a long time. I'm going away to college in a
year and a half, and I'm gonna do this, now. We're gonna do this tonight."
"Sam, you…" I should have more to say, but fuuuuuck my brain can't handle this.
What the hell did you do with my shirt? – I can't move my hands.
"Get these jeans down," echoes off the bare walls, loud. Like you want this,
like you’re a pro at this. Like you want your big brother that way, and we'd
better come to some understanding fast or I'll lose the last bit of virginity I
have.
"Sam, stop."
"Fuck you, Dean. I'm tired of taking orders. Time for you to listen."
"Okay, I'm listening – SO listening." All I hear is your breath rushing hard
and long fingers yanking my jeans down to my calves, and not even taking off my
boots.
"I know you listen to me, Dean. I know you're lying there awake when I beat
off. If you wanted it to stop, all you had to do was say something. Or join me,
instead of running into the bathroom and jerking in the sink five minutes
later."
How the fuck did you-? "This isn't beating off together, Sam-"
"No, Dean, this is me, fucking my brother."
Christ, you're serious. "Not a chance, Sam."
Is that panic in my voice? Damn right it is. My brother's got my balls in his
mouth, and Dad's coming back into town tomorrow for fuck's sake - what do I do?
Your gonna bite them right off if I struggle too much, aren't you, Sam? Or you
could let them go, slowly, one at a time, and run your tongue down behind
them...
I can feel the tip of your nose, a cool point moving down between my legs and
your tongue, scorching hot right beside it, tracing that ridge right down to
my-
Then we cross a line. THE line.
"No! Not that." Oohhhhhhhhhhhh my fucking monster-killing little brother,
you're not getting in there.
"Already in, Dean," the sonofabitch says.
Are you reading my mind now? With that smirk in your voice like you just picked
your first lock. And then you fucking spit on my hole.
"Sam, look, this is wrong." Weak.
"Wrong was twenty minutes ago when you nuzzled my ass, Dean."
"So you're gonna rape your own brother?
"No, Dean!"
You sound hurt. No more fingers rubbing back and forth, slow and soft across my
hole. But my cock wants you to keep going, and it usually gets what it wants.
"I'm just saying NO. Clear enough answer?" I'm gonna hurt you, either way,
Sammy.
"Perfectly. It's just… I'm not stopping just yet."
Cocky son of a bitch. You told me to go out and have fun, have a few. Now
you're on my bed, legs under mine, working one finger into me, your fist around
my cock. Your fist that punched me last month because I told you you were being
careless with that hex bag. That fist, Sam. The one you fuck every night.
"I always knew it, Sam. Brothers know." Delay, delay, delay.
"Now you know the rest of it, Dean."
Holy fuck I know. Two fingers in my ass I know. I'm a fucking savant, I know so
much.
"I'm not cool with this, Sam."
"And you think I'm cool with it, Dean? I'm dying to get out of this life, dying
to get free of Dad, and dying to get inside you in every way I can. I'm not
cool with any of this, but it's gonna happen."
"And tomorrow?"
"We get in the car and hunt evil things. The family business. Until I leave."
You've got your cock in my asscrack now, slick and solid. I can't play drunk
anymore. I can't pretend I'm asleep like when I hear you grunt out another
load.  And you won't let up on my cock, fast wet strokes, matching your own,
pushing against me.
"I know how it goes, Sam." I've seen gay porn. "But then we get in the car and
you finish high school and you leave when you need to leave."
"And in between now and tomorrow, I get you, Dean. The one thing I can't take
with me to college."
"Yeah, okay, you get me."
"Dean, meet me halfway."
"Halfway down to Hell it is, Sammy."
I can't even stop now, I'm going to blow a load all over my brother's hand and
I'm not afraid. My fear is being drowned out by that long dick of yours
slapping against my ass.  Where did you even get a thing like that – Dad's not
that big, and even mine… stupid hung douchebag.
Six feet tall and still growing and you wanna shove that thing in me on our
first date and I won't get to be there for you when you realize what a mistake
this is.
"Do it, Sam. DickFest in Dallas. I'm all in, so you're all in." Oh god, Sam,
what are you doing? I was gonna die an ass-virgin, Sam!
I give him what he needs, or he takes it. Nothing much has changed.
***
THE END
 
 
 

Get Right (Pearl Jam)
I want for to lay down, I'm waiting 'till sundown
I'm searching the haystacks, water is sunshine, wait for the moment
the moment between us, the fire is made now, hot to the touch
I wanted to get right
I wanted to get right
I wanted to get right with you
bakers dozen parades, stand and debate
out single file, nine in a row, swear if you must
keeping your boots on, float with the now, hot to the touch
concrete underground, cast out everyday, the dregs of society
underbelly, inside of me, rejoice and follow thee
I wanted to get right
I wanted to get right
I wanted to get right with it, with you
with... you...
yeah
I wanted to get right
I wanted to get right
I wanted to get right

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