
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3837697.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Morning_After, mentions_of_past_non-con, Weecest
  Series:
      Part 2 of Sleepy!Sam
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-04-28 Words: 3063
****** Morning, Sammy ******
by WrensAO3
Summary
     By popular request, I wrote a morning-after sequel for the Sleepy!Sam
     story.
Notes
     Warnings: As with the prequel, Sam is underage. This story does not
     contain non-con, but it does reference the non-con (by means of Sam
     being asleep) in the previous story.
See the end of the work for more notes
The first sensations that came back to Sam as he drifted out of sleep were a
familiar smell and a slightly uncomfortable coolness. Without opening his eyes,
he grunted softly and reached for the blankets so he could snuggle under them
and go back to sleep. It took him a moment to realize that they weren’t there.
Sam rubbed a hand over his eyes and sat up, blinking in the morning light. The
blankets were bunched up at the end of the bed, not even covering his feet. Sam
had just enough time to wonder if he’d kicked them off in his sleep before
noticing that his stomach was sticky.
Years of monster hunting had trained a sense of alarm into Sam whenever
unexplained wetness appeared on his body, and his warm haze of sleep was gone
in an instant. However, this clearly wasn’t blood, he could tell that much from
looking at it. Sam ran his finger tentatively through the mess on his stomach.
Thin, wet, milky, a little dried around the edges -
Sam’s hand sprang back. Oh. That’s what it is. Sam’s face heated and he glanced
at the door to his room anxiously to make sure it was closed. He
really, really hoped Dean hadn’t come in and tried to wake him up, seen him
like this, naked above the sheets and covered in -
No, if Dean had wanted to wake him up, he’d be awake. Sam let out a relieved
breath and swung his legs over the bed. Just a wet dream. He’d clean up and get
dressed and Dean would be none the wiser. He wished he could remember what it
had been about… he could recall was a vague sensation of another body over his,
touching him, but nothing specific. From the way his sheets had been kicked to
the end of the bed, the dream must have been… intense.
It wasn’t until Sam stood up and stretched that he realized something was amiss
that absolutely could not be explained by a wet dream. A part of himself that
he didn’t usually give much thought to felt really damn weird. Reflexively, Sam
reached a hand around his body and felt between his legs. His heart shot into
his throat when he felt wetness. Oh god I’m bleeding down there it’s a witch or
a curse or a goddamn haunted tapeworm -
Sam spent several seconds blinking at his fingers before registering that the
fluid on them wasn’t red, and therefore wasn’t blood, and therefore he wasn’t
dying. The relief had barely set in when he realized that the wetness on his
fingers was the same stuff that had been splattered all over his chest.
Sam took a staggering step back that sent him thumping back onto the mattress.
The motion caused his hips to shift and sent that weird feeling through him
again, wet and sensitive and kind of good. He bit his lip to keep from
hyperventilating, staring blankly at the milky fluid on his fingers. There was
some explanation for this, something perfectly reasonable that he just wasn’t
thinking of, something other than come dripping out of his ass.Sam glanced at
the bunched up sheets again, his face heating. Not kicked off, pulled off.
Pulled off so someone could see you and touch you and…
“F-fuck,” Sam choked out. He stood up and backed away from the bed, running a
hand through his hair. His heart was pounding in his chest. “Fuck fuck fuck
fuck… ” A memory flashed through his mind, someone’s hands running down the
insides of his thighs and spreading them…
No. That couldn’t be right, the house was locked and he was safe here. Even if
someone had broken in, Dean would have heard them. Dean wouldn’t have let some
stranger come into Sam’s room and pull the covers off him and do things while
he couldn’t even fight back…
Sam ran a hand over his eyes and tried to take deep breaths. He had to tell
Dean, Dean would know what to do. Dean always knew what to do. Maybe it’s not
even that, maybe it’s something else. He knew it wasn’t something else, though.
He didn’t just feel wet down there, he felt… loose. Like something
had stretched him -
Sam snatched his boxers off the floor and wrenched them on. Dean. Gotta tell
Dean. His face reddened as he tucked his semi-hard cock into his boxers. In
spite of his terror, some part of him was liking this. Memories were trickling
back one at a time: hungry lips on his, knuckles trailing down his neck, that
familiar smell again… Battling with his fear was a strong sense of arousal,
remembering a strong hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it while he was
stuffed full of -
“Goddamn it,” Sam panted. The boxers weren’t hiding a damn thing. Sam groaned
and ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the tent in his underwear. He
didn’t want to walk out into the kitchen like this, Dean was probably up by
now. With a resigned breath, Sam reached into his boxers and ran a hand over
himself, closing his eyes. He’d just take care of it now, it wouldn’t take
long, then he could go ask Dean what could be making his ass feel like this
because he refused to believe it was the obvious thing. Sam took a deep breath,
trying to relax into the sensations of a hand rubbing up and down his erection.
As soon as he breathed in, there was that familiar smell again, warm and close
and comforting. Without thinking, Sam crawled back onto his bed and pressed his
face into the mattress, breathing deep, trying to find more of that smell. It
felt nice to be wrapped in it, felt right. Sam let out a soft moan and bucked
his hips forward into his own hand, panting into the mattress. He wished he
could place the smell, felt so familiar, like home and sweat, leather and beer
and the backseat of the Impala -
Dean’s voice whispering to him as he slowly pushed inside -
Sam stopped touching himself with a gasp, his hazel eyes wide, panting into the
sheets. The image of Dean remained, Dean crawling into bed with him last night
and running hands down his body. No, this wasn’t okay, why the hell was he
thinking of his brother? That wasn’t right, that wasn’t right at all, it was
bad enough that the thought of being held down and penetrated was making his
cock throb, but Dean - Sam swallowed hard and moaned into the mattress, hips
shifting desperately. Once the thought was in his head, he couldn’t get it out.
He couldn’t visualize last night as anything other than Dean, pulling the
covers off him and spreading his legs…
Sam realized he was humping the mattress and groaning, and stopped himself with
a frustrated whine. He couldn’t masturbate to the thought of his brother
fucking him - god, just thinking the words felt wrong - and he couldn’t get his
mind to focus on anything else. Sam pressed his face into the mattress to
muffle his loud, frustrated groan before sitting up and glaring at his
erection. He’d just have to ignore it, and hope it went away on its own.
Sam tried to think about anything else as he wiped the dried come off his
stomach and pulled a t-shirt on, but every time he took a step he got that
strange sensation between his legs again, loose and slick and your brother’s
come inside you. His face was red and his cock was just as hard as ever when he
steeled himself and walked out into the kitchen.
Dean was leaning against the kitchen counter when Sam came out, a cup of coffee
in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Scanning it for jobs, even though
Dad’s already out on one. Sam tried to keep his eyes off his brother’s bare
chest and hurried across the kitchen, hoping Dean wouldn’t glance up from his
paper and see -
“Morning, Sammy.”
Sam swallowed hard and continued his brisk march to the counter, grabbing a mug
and almost spilling the entire pot of coffee as he tried to pour himself some.
“Mornin’, Dean,” he replied quickly. He could feel Dean’s eyes on the back of
his neck, could almost see the smirk on his brother’s face. Sam’s cheeks heated
and he took another shot at pouring himself a cup of coffee, trying to keep his
hands steady.
“Sleep well last night?”
Sam gripped his mug hard, even though it was scalding hot. The question seemed
innocent enough, but… he couldn’t quite tell if there was an edge of smugness
in Dean’s voice. Like he knew perfectly well what Sam’s night had been like.
Like he’d been a part of it. Oh god what if I didn’t imagine it what if it
really happened and he’s thinking about it right now and staring at me and
thinking about doing it again oh god I want it -
Sam tried to steady his breathing, still facing the counter to hide the
straining bulge in his boxers. He couldn’t let Dean find out about this. “S-
slept fine.”
“Really?” Sam could hear the sound of a mug being placed on the counter.
Seconds later if was followed by a newspaper. “Cause you know, you don’t look
very rested.”
“I-I said I’m fine.” Still not turning around, Sam took a large gulp of burning
black coffee. He could be wrong, he could be reading into all of this way too
much, he didn’t know for sure if anything had happened last night or if his
weird, sudden, ferocious urge to fuck his brother was in any way mutual.
Sam’s heart pounded when he heard Dean’s footsteps crossing the kitchen. When
Dean’s hands braced on the counter on either side of him, he forgot how to
breathe.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, Sammy?” Sam could feel Dean’s warm breath
on his neck and he almost moaned. His legs shifted apart involuntarily. “Come
on, let your big brother help you out.”
“R-really, Dean, I’m fine.” Sam gripped the coffee mug as hard as he could and
fought down the urge to push his hips back against Dean’s and beg.
“You think I can’t tell, Sam?” Dean’s fingers trailed feather-light down his
arm, and Sam shivered at the touch. Dean leaned close to Sam’s ear and
whispered into it. “Walking around in those tight boxers with a hard-on like
that, it’s like you’re trying to tease me.”
Sam choked on his words. Dean laughed quietly against his neck and pushed his
hips forward slightly, nudging the hard bulge in his pants against Sam’s ass.
“Come on, Sammy,” he taunted, “if you want something, you gotta tell me. Just
tell me what you need, Sammy.”
Sam’s mind raced, his heart thumping against his ribs. Dean’s cock, oh god,
Dean's cock was grinding against him, Dean was rock hard and had him pinned
against the counter and that meant he hadn’t imagined it, Dean had crawled into
his bed and fucked him last night and now he wanted to do it again, fucking
yes…
“Dean… ” Sam swallowed and tried to collect himself. “Dean, are… are you asking
if… ”
“Shh.” Dean’s whisper made his words die in his throat. “Yes or no, Sammy? Do
you want something from me?”
“I… yes.”
“What do you want? You gotta say it, Sam.”
“Dean, I… I can’t… ”
“You can, and I’m gonna make you.” Dean casually reached around him and took
the coffee out of his hands, setting it aside, still speaking into his
neck. “You keep rocking your hips against me, pressing that cute little butt
against my dick. You know what you want, Sammy, just tell me.”
“G-god, Dean, I-I want… ” Sam bit his lip and groaned, hands tense against the
table.
Dean tsked and pressed a firm hand against his back, bending him over the
counter.
Sam looked over his shoulder and panted, hair all over his face.
“Dean, please!”
“Look at you, you’re desperate for it. Not enough of my come in your ass yet,
baby brother?”
“Yes, Dean, I just… god, Dean, I need it, please!" Want that cock, want it
pushing into me, want your fingers bruising my hips, Dean, please…
"Say it, Sammy,” Dean mocked, tracing his fingers around the elastic of Sam’s
boxers. “Say it and I’ll make you come so hard for me.”
“Deeeeeeean!” It came out as a sob. Dean’s fingers hooked his boxers and
started dragging them down slowly. “Dean, god… Please, want you to fuck me so
badly, Dean.” Sam flushed but didn’t turn his face away, still meeting Dean’s
eyes. “God, Dean, I want it right now.”
“Shh, I’m gonna give it to you, Sammy.” Dean’s hand ran over his bare ass and
squeezed as the boxers came down. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna get it, just
needed you to ask for it. Wanted to hear you beg.”
The boxers bunched around Sam’s thighs, and Dean’s turned his full attention to
his brother’s sweet, round ass. He ran a finger down the crease and smirked.
“Still nice and wet from last night. You’re all ready for me, aren’t you?”
Sam bucked his hips back against Dean’s hand. “Yeah, come on, hurry up… ”
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep that ass waiting.” Sam could hear the sound of
a zipper being pulled down. “Gonna stuff it nice and full, just like you want.”
“Dean… ” Sam clenched his hands against the counter as the head of Dean’s cock
rubbed against his hole. “Dean!”
“God, Sammy, its so tempting to just tease you like this. Just rub against your
perfect little hole while you squirm and beg. Hush, don’t give me that look,
I’m not gonna do it, baby brother, I’m not that mean. Not right now, anyway.”
Dean pushed a little harder and the tip of his cock slid with agonizing
slowness into Sam’s ass. Sam panted into the counter, keeping his legs spread
so Dean could sink into him nice and easy. He was expecting it to be more
difficult, but he was so wet and Dean was pushing in so slowly that it didn’t
hurt at all, just made him feel fantastically full.
“Dean… ” Sam groaned when Dean began sliding out and pushing back in again.
“God, Dean, can’t believe I didn’t ask for this earlier, feels so damn good… ”
Dean’s laugh was a little breathless as he pushed his way back into Sam with a
hard thrust. “Fuck, Sammy, such a perfect little slut.” He worked his fingers
into Sam’s hair and pulled his head back, hissing into his ear. “My perfect
little slut. My Sammy. Would you like that, Sam? Want me to do this to you all
the time?”
“Yes, Dean, god… ” Sam pushed his hips back against Dean, drawing a groan from
his brother. Dean was thick and hot inside him and stretching him like he
remembered from last night, it was making his cock twitch against the counter.
“Every damn day, Dean. Want you to wake me up with your cock.”
Dean leaned his forehead against Sam’s shoulder and groaned. “Fuck yes, Sam,
gonna do it, gonna fuck you whenever you want it, little brother. God, you look
so damn good like this, bent over with my cock filling you, god, Sam - ” Dean’s
bit Sam’s shoulder to muffle his groans, not hard enough to break skin but hard
enough to sting. Sam shouted into the countertop as Dean pounded into him,
arching his back so his brother could get as deep as possible. Dean’s hands
were shaking slightly on his hips, and Sam could hear his brother say his name
with each thrust, a blissful half-groan-half-breath, hot and desperate and
horny against his neck, “Sam… ”
Dean gave one last, hard thrust and moaned loudly into Sam’s shoulder, and Sam
could feel him pulsing inside as he came. It filled him up even more, hot and
wet and sloppy. When Dean had stopped shaking and caught his breath and pulled
out of him slowly, he could hear it dripping onto the floor.
“Christ, Sam.” Dean ran one of his hands over Sam’s ass and squeezed the cheek,
watching his come drip onto the tiles. “God, you need to look like that all the
time.”
“Dean, fuck, don’t fucking stop,” Sam panted. He was right on the edge, he
couldn’t take it. “Please, that’s not fucking fair, I need to - ”
“Shh, don’t worry, Sammy, I promised, didn’t I?” Dean gently pulled Sam up off
the counter and turned him around. “Not gonna leave you hanging, Sam, not after
that.” Dean dropped down to his knees and looked up at Sam with a smirk.
Sam panted and gripped the counter top as Dean’s fingers stroked over his cock.
“D-Dean - ”
“Wanted to do this last night, Sammy,” Dean panted, breath hot against him.
“Wanted to suck this sweet cock of yours. Bet it tastes just as good as it
looks, nice and sweet like the rest of you.”
“Ah, Dean… ” Sam sucked in a frantic breath as Dean’s mouth slid over him
slowly. “Dean - that’s - oh god, fuck, Dean!”
“Feels nice, Sammy?” Dean murmured against the head of his cock, stroking the
shaft with his hand. “Gonna come for me, Sammy?”
“Yes, yes, god, gonna, gonna come soon, oh god, Dean… ” Sam’s knuckles whitened
against the counter as Dean’s mouth slid over him again. “God, Dean, I can’t -
”
And then Dean sucked on him and Sam came so hard his knees buckled and he had
to hold himself up by grabbing onto the counter, shaking and shouting and
gasping Dean’s name again and again as his brother held him still and swallowed
every drop. Dean waited until Sam could stand on his own before letting Sam’s
cock slide out of his mouth and looking up with a pleased smile. Sam panted
down at him, flushed and sweaty and out of breath. Dean stood up and claimed
his mouth in a kiss, pulling Sam close as he moaned into it.
“Dean,” Sam grunted into the kiss.
Dean pulled back, running a hand over Sam’s cheek. “Yeah?”
Sam bit his lip and ran his hands down to Dean’s hips. “I wanna be awake for it
next time.”
End Notes
     Originally posted here; http://wrenseroticlibrary.tumblr.com/post/
     46471501954/sleepy-sam-sequel
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
