
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/811051.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Watersports
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-25 Words: 1066
****** Richly Deserved ******
by Morgana
Summary
     Dean has a score to settle with his brother
Sam fell asleep somewhere around midnight, but Dean waited until two before he
slipped out of his own bed, grabbed the ice bucket, and headed into the
bathroom. He closed the door carefully behind him before he turned the tap on,
then spent at least ten minutes getting the water to just the right
temperature, but he didn't care. This was going to be worth it.

When the water was perfectly warm, Dean filled the ice bucket a little more
than halfway, grinning as he reached out to turn the tap off. He cradled it
close to him as he eased back into the bedroom, but Sam hadn't moved an inch
from where he'd passed out two hours ago. Which just made what was about to
happen all the more delicious. And deserved. "Teach him to booby trap my baby,"
he muttered, scowling at the memory of the Vaseline that had been smeared all
over his steering wheel yesterday afternoon. And on the inside of his
windshield. And on the gear shift. And -

Okay, fine. So he was a creative little shit. And maybe Dean had ditched him to
take Brittani Steroso to the movies, but c'mon! She was hot! And easy! Or at
least she would've been, he was sure of that, if Sam hadn't acted like a
jealous bitch by tracking him down and whining until Dean took him home. He'd
lost out on a fine piece of ass, but that didn't excuse what Sam had done to
his girl.

He should've just told Dad. It would serve Sam right, because if Dad ever found
out what he'd done, Dean knew he'd have him detailing the car once a week for
the next year, along with doing an extra round of PT every day, putting in some
overtime hours on the shooting range and - Yeah. Call him a soft touch, but he
just couldn't do that to the kid.

It didn't mean that Sam wasn't going to pay, though. Dean looked down at the
bucket in his hands, then over at his sleeping brother and grinned. This was
going to be good.

Sam had fallen asleep in his usual awkward sprawl, arms and legs everywhere,
and for a moment, Dean was struck by just how tall the kid was getting to be.
He'd started sprouting up last year, somewhere around his fifteenth birthday,
and now he was pretty much all arms and legs. And hair. Dean reminded himself
to take care of that later, preferably before Dad got back and decided to shave
it all off like he had two summers ago. But first, he had a little payback to
dish out.

He crept over to the bed and set the bucket down, then reached for Sam's hand.
"Shhh, it's just me," he said when he felt Sam tense, and sure enough, he went
limp almost instantly. God, this was just too easy. Dean smirked as he guided
his brother's hand into the warm water. He silently counted to ten, and just as
he reached the end, he heard Sam let out a soft groan and saw him shudder as he
let go.

Bingo! Dean choked back a laugh, but when Sam didn't immediately bolt upright
and scream about kicking his ass, he found himself starting to wonder if it had
worked. That had sounded like Sam's thank-God-I-finally-got-to-a-bathroom
groan, but what if the water wasn't warm enough? Without really thinking about
it, Dean slid his hand under the covers, groping blindly until he managed to
wedge it under his brother's stomach and -

Yeah. Oh, yeah, that had definitely worked. Because that warmth under his
fingers was - huh. Really warm. And he could feel - shit, he could
actually feel Sam's dick flex against his hand as he pissed. Dean swallowed
hard and shifted a little closer to the bed, hand slipping down a little to cup
him completely. And Sam just kept pissing, a sleek warm flow that soaked
through his shorts and into Dean's hand, unlike anything else he'd ever felt.
Holy shit.

Another low groan from his brother made Dean's attention snap up to his face,
but Sam looked completely unaware of anything except the simple pleasure of his
bladder emptying while he slept. His lips were half-open, his features relaxed,
and he was probably the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. Dean
deliberately didn't think about the fact that he was thinking that about
his brother, or that the kid was only sixteen, for fuck's sake; all he cared
about was that Sammy was gorgeous. He leaned up to brush a kiss against his
lips, and it wasn't until he sat back that he realized that he was hard.

Not just kind of hard, either. Really hard. Like, insanely, blindingly, holy-
fuck-I'm-gonna-scream-if-I-don't-come-in-the-next-five-seconds hard. Sam's dick
twitched against his hand and let out a final spurt that made Dean have to
shove his free hand down to grab the base of his own dick through his shorts so
he didn't cream himself right there. Right. Okay, first things first. Get his
hand back, then get into the bathroom so he could get off before Sam woke up.
Then forget the whole thing had ever happened.

He drew in a shaky breath and started to ease his hand back when suddenly there
were dark, hungry eyes staring at him. Dean barely had a second to register
that Sam was awake, holy shit, Sammy was awake and Dean had his hand against
his dick, when his brother whispered, "Don't stop," and his orgasm hit him in a
blinding rush of white that left him shivering and shaking as he soaked his
underwear like he was thirteen all over again.

When he could see again, he realized that Sam was watching him. And more than
that, he was grinding down against his hand, hips moving in small circles as he
sought friction. Dean licked his lips as he felt Sam's dick fill, hardening
right there in his hand. "Move over," he said roughly, suddenly hungry for the
touch of Sam's skin, Sam's body against his, Sam's dick in his fist, and okay,
he was really going to hell for this, but he was going to make sure the trip
was worth it.

In the end, it was worth everything. Even getting up early and walking the two
miles to the laundromat to do the laundry.
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