
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9291734.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Rimming, Vibrators, Flavored_Lube, Voyeurism, i_warned
      for, Underage_Sex, because_Sam_is_16
  Series:
      Part 15 of Tumblr_Prompts
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-11 Words: 5792
****** Sparkles ******
by Sincestiel
Summary
     But, the thing is, no matter how often Dean promises himself he’s
     going to stop letting his mind wander to just what Sam gets up to
     with that thick, purple rod, his mind keeps right on providing him
     with images.
Notes
     Written for this prompt: if you feel comfortable with it: weecest
     where Dean finds Sam's sextoy and can't stop thinking about Sam using
     it? or anything in that direction....
     This isn't exactly weecest, but close? I get a little squicked
     writing much younger than fifteen or sixteen. And those are a little
     iffy for me too.
     In case you want to see the vibratorhere_it_is.
     Enjoy. I hope.
Dean can’t stop thinking about it. He keeps remembering how thick it is and how
long. He keeps thinking about how purple the damned thing is, purple with
fucking glitter. And god but it’s shaped like a fucking dick, complete with
bumpy veins. Of course, the vibration is an added bonus that a real dick
doesn’t have. But whatever. Dean can do better than a goddamn vibrator.
Except he keeps having to also remind himself that the vibrator in question
belongs to his sixteen year old brother and so no, Dean doesn’t need to offer
to show him how good the real thing is. Even if he really, really wants to.
But, the thing is, no matter how often Dean promises himself he’s going to stop
letting his mind wander to just what Sam gets up to with that thick, purple
rod, his mind keeps right on providing him with images.
Sam on his hands and knees with the fucking thing hanging out of his tight
little hole. Or Sam loose and needy, legs spread wide, cock thumping up and
down on his flat belly as he plunges the thing in and out of his wet, pink,
hungry asshole. The way Sam eyes might roll back in his head when the thing
buzzes over his prostate. The way Sam’s hard little body would shine under dim
motel lighting as sweat starts to build up over his newly developing muscle. Or
maybe the way Sam would whimper Dean’s name as Dean pulls the intruding toy out
and replaces it with his-
“Dean!” Sam’s sharp voice cuts through Dean’s daydreams, but when Dean looks up
he’s not sure reality is safer right now because Sam is fucking naked except
for the towel wrapped around his waist. And dripping water all over the place.
One droplet falls from his too long hair and lands on his bony shoulder. As it
slides off, down the front of his body, over the soft spot just under his
shoulder and then down a pectoral muscle that’s just starting to plump up,
Dean’s eyes track its path.
“Dean?” Sam says again, this time less exasperated and more worried. And Dean
did take a hit to the head earlier, so the concern might be warranted. In fact,
Dean could probably blame his gutter thoughts on the injury. Well, he could if
they were new thoughts. But they’re not. It’s been weeks now and Dean can’t
stop checking Sam out. And he can’t stop staring at Sam’s duffle because he
knows what the fuck is jostling around at the bottom of it.
“’M Fine,” Dean assures Sam because the kid’s already searching around on the
cluttered table for the cellphone their dad left in case they needed to get in
touch with him. He’d left to get a foot in the door on the next hunt, but let
them have a night to recover from the beating they took with this last ghost.
And Dean can’t imagine John would be thrilled to have to turn around and come
back all because Dean can’t stop thinking about seeing Sam spread out and
stuffed. “Seriously, man. I’m okay.”
Sam gives up his search and turns back to Dean, stepping closer and reaching
out to hold Dean’s head on either side. His hands are warm and bigger than Dean
realized. But hell, Sam gains a few inches somewhere every few months, so
that’s nothing new. The kid’s probably going to outgrow Dean in the next year
or so.
Tilting Dean’s head back, Sam looks into his eyes, first one and then the
other, comparing pupils, Dean knows. But it’s all Dean can do to stay focused
on Sam’s face and not let his gaze travel over the chest that’s almost within
licking distance. Shit. He’d thought his obsession would get better with time.
But it’s been three goddamn weeks and it’s only getting worse. At this rate
he’s going to do something really fucking stupid really fucking soon.
“I don’t think you have a concussion. But if you need to go to the hospital I
can drive. Do you have a headache? Feel nauseous? Are you confused?”
Dean bites back a laugh. Because yeah. Okay? He’s fucking confused. When he
found that fucking thing he should have teased Sam mercilessly and then, after
ample torture, he should have told the kid there’s nothing wrong with
curiosity. He should have given Sam a talk on safe gay sex and then moved on
with his fucking life. But, instead, he keeps thinking about teaching Sam about
all the many benefits to fucking someone with a dick. And he keeps hoping Sam’s
not learning the shit from anyone else.
“I’m good. Not even a headache anymore. Really. Put some clothes on and we’ll
go grab dinner and some beer.” Technically, Dean isn’t old enough to buy
alcohol. But Alex Morris is and that’s what his ID says right now.
Reluctantly, Sam releases Dean’s face and shuffles over to his duffle – that
fucking duffle that’s been the bane of Dean’s existence for weeks now – to grab
his clothes. He dresses in the bathroom, thank goodness because if Dean has to
see Sam’s ass right now he’s not going to promise he could contain himself.
After a juicy burger and two beers, the third resting between his legs as he
surfs through channels from his bed, Dean feels a little better. Sam’s dressed
now and not wet and flushed pink from his shower. And Dean is successfully
focusing on something other than his little brother or his little brother’s
duffle.
It’s glorious right up until Sam crawls up onto the bed with Dean and knee
walks his way to Dean’s side. Dean freezes as Sam slots himself right next to
him, book in hand. And okay, they do this sometimes. Dean watching TV and Sam
reading. Sam’s head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder and sometimes Dean’s hands
might comb through Sam’s silky hair. Maybe. But that was before. They haven’t
done this since Dean found a fucking huge vibrator in Sam’s belongings.
But Dean is a glutton for punishment, so he doesn’t push Sam away. In fact,
he’s pretty sure his fingers sink deeper into Sam’s hair than normal, carding
through it and massaging at Sam’s scalp. “Whatcha reading, Sammy?” And god, is
Dean’s voice really that low and gravelly? Better question, did Sam shiver when
he heard it? Maybe the kid’s got a chill. That’s the only explanation Dean can
consider.
“A Wrinkle in Time,” Sam mumbles, shifting his book and wiggling down and
closer to Dean’s body. His left leg falls over the tops of Dean’s thighs as he
gets situated and Dean fights not to moan or do something really horrible like
guide it higher so that it falls heavy over his slowly growing erection.
“Read that a time or two, haven’t you?”
Sam nods but that’s all the response Dean gets. So Dean settles in for a night
of sheer agony. But he’s going to enjoy the fuck out of it. Yeah. He’s really
is a bit of a masochist sometimes.
Dean ends up drinking the whole six pack on his own. As soon as Sam notices
he’s finished one, the kid gets up and brings him another. And every time, he
fits himself right back against Dean’s side, eating up Dean’s personal space
like it belongs to him. Dean doesn’t complain. And he’s pretty sure that his
own hands get a little more grabby with every beer he drinks. And by the time
he’s downing the dregs of the last one, he’s got the arm that’s wrapped around
Sam under the back of his shirt and his hand around his side. His fingertips
are just grazing Sam’s ribs, brushing lightly over the warm skin.
Sam takes the last beer bottle from him and sets it on the table bedside the
bed, and then he worms as close against Dean’s side as he can get. His book got
discarded sometime around the fourth or fifth beer he brought to Dean, and now
he’s got one hand plastered to Dean’s side and the other bunched in Dean’s t-
shirt, lifting it just slightly. Sam’s pinky finger is sliding back and forth
over the bare skin exposed at Dean’s belly. It’s doing wonders for Dean’s
erection which, despite enough alcohol to loosen Dean’s inhibitions, hasn’t
flagged in the slightest over the course of the last hour or so. Dean’s almost
certain Sam’s aware of it. But he hasn’t said a word and he’s not running away.
Suddenly, Sam turns his head and buries his face into Dean’s chest for several
seconds. Concerned, Dean scratches over Sam’s scalp gently and murmurs,
“Sleepy?” thinking maybe it’s time to tuck Sammy in. Never mind that he hasn’t
had to or got to do that in years. But Sam shakes his head and Dean feels him
take a deep breath before he lifts up.
His whole body rises as his hand slides down off Dean’s side to brace him on
the bed and then, so fast Dean’s not really sure what’s happening, Sam is
straddling his hips, Dean’s dick just inches from Sam’s ass.
“Wha-” Dean starts, but instead of pushing Sam back like he probably should,
his hands clamp down on Sam’s thighs, holding him in place. He’s not sure if
he’s trying to make sure Sam doesn’t get away or if he’s trying to save them
both the embarrassment of Sam’s ass meeting Dean’s eager cock.
“Shh,” Sam breathes, leaning in to run his nose up from Dean’s collarbone all
the way to his ear, inhaling the whole time, like he’s trying to pull Dean into
his lungs. “Smell so good,” he finally whispers, but his voice is quivering and
his hands are unsteady where they’re braced on Dean’s chest. The kid’s nervous.
Incredibly so. Dean feels his heart beating hard and fast against the cage of
his ribs when he raises a hand to push against Sam and make him sit back up.
Sam’s face is red and his eyes are watery and his teeth are worrying his bottom
lip so hard Dean thinks it has to hurt. The kid’s a bundle of nervous energy
and almost crippling anxiety and it’s doing things to Dean. There’s still
concern, of course. He’s scared as fuck that Sam either doesn’t realize what
he’s putting into motion here or that he’s noticed Dean’s weirdness and is
playing into that somehow. But he also can’t deny the way his stomach flips at
the thought that Sam wants this so much he’s willing to take such a harrowing
risk to have it.
“Sammy?” Dean whispers, the hand on Sam’s chest sliding up to cup Sam’s jaw,
“You okay?”
Sam smiles then, tentative and alluring in ways he probably doesn’t even
understand, and turns to press his mouth against Dean’s palm. For a second Dean
thinks he’ll kiss it. But that’s not what happens at all. Instead his red,
shiny tongue darts out to run, slowly, right up the center of Dean’s hand. His
eyes stay locked with Dean’s right up until he draws Dean’s middle finger into
his mouth. As he sucks it in, his eyes close and he moans sweetly, swirling his
tongue around the pad of Dean’s finger.
“Shit, Sammy.” Dean is in awe of the way Sam’s warm mouth takes him in, all the
way to the base of his finger and then back up to the tip. And instead of
pulling away, because, even though he knows he should, Dean isn’t going to do
that, he gently presses his finger back in. Sam initiated this and Dean is
going along for the ride no matter where it takes them. Hell, the kid even
plied him with alcohol. He’s worked hard for it.
When Sam finally pulls off with a pop, he’s panting and his eyes are wild. He’s
in disbelief like the thought that Dean would go along with this in any
capacity is too much for him to really consider.
“I got something,” Sam says, like it’s a secret he’s been dying to share with
Dean, and his eyes are twinkling mischievously.
Dean grins, tapping his middle finger against Sam’s lower lip. “Is it purple?
And sparkly?”
Sam’s face turns an even deeper shade of red, but he smiles back and nods,
nipping at Dean’s fingertip. “So you did find it then.”
It hits Dean then that Sam’s been planning this a lot longer than just tonight.
The devious little bastard.
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t know what to say.” Dean’s reply falls out without being filtered.
There’s none of his typical bravado. Just honesty. Because if they’re going to
do this, and Dean thinks they probably are, that’s how it has to be. He can lie
and fake his way through just about any situation with just about anyone else
on Earth. But not Sam. Sam deserves better. “What did you expect me to say,
Sammy?”
“I don’t know. I just… I thought I could see if you thought it was gross or if
it freaked you out. If it did then I’d just keep using the toy and pretending.
But if not… because sometimes, Dean, the way you look at me… I thought you
might want to, um, without it.”
Dean shakes his head, still reeling from Sam’s confession, but absolutely sure
what he wants. “Oh no. I want you to get it out. And then I want you to show me
how you use it. I wanna see, Sammy. I’ve been imagining it for weeks now. So I
gotta know.”
Sam is nodding vigorously, already climbing off Dean to make his way over to
his duffle. Dean grabs him by the wrist and pulls him back long enough to steal
a kiss. It’s just a simple thing. No tongue, no heat. Just Dean’s lips pressing
against Sam’s and Sam gasping and then moaning before he pulls away. But the
way Sam’s face lights up makes Dean’s heart swell in his chest.
This is wrong, he thinks as he watches Sam first dig around in his bag and pull
out a bottle of lube – watermelon it looks like – and the long, purple vibrator
and then start pulling his clothes off. So wrong. Sam’s his brother. And he’s
only sixteen. And worse, Dean is the only real constant in his life. And he’s
sort of a parental figure. On so many levels this is wrong. There is a power
imbalance here that Dean cannot overlook. But Dean comforts himself with the
fact that he didn’t start this. Sam did. He’s just… Not really going along with
it, per say, because he’s definitely actively participating now, but he’s just
giving Sam what he obviously wants.
It’s weak justification that doesn’t even hold up in Dean’s own head. But fuck
it. He has no intention of turning back and if that makes him a horrible
person, so be it.
Sam crawls back onto the bed with the toy and lube in hand, clothes deposited
somewhere on the floor. He’s long and lanky, but there’s some definition now
across his chest and abs and even his wiry arms are starting to bulk up. But
what’s really holding Dean’s attention is Sam’s cock. It’s not like, huge or
anything. Just normal size. Maybe just a smidge smaller than Dean’s. But it’s
more the fact that it’s there, hanging between his legs as he makes his way up
the bed.
It’s not like Dean’s never come into contact with another dick. He’s fooled
around with guys before. Even, a time or two, fucked one. But this is Sammy and
Sammy’s dick and that’s different. Scarier. Hotter. Just more in all ways.
“How do you want me to do it, Dean?” Sam asks, now kneeling next to Dean on the
bed. “On my back, or on my stomach?”
Dean clears his throat and sits up, aiming to sit in one of the chairs at the
foot of the bed to get the full effect, but Sam drops the toy and reaches out
to grab Dean’s arm. When Dean looks up at him, there’s fear all over his face
and it takes Dean a minute to realize Sam thinks he’s leaving. He thinks he’s
spooked Dean or Dean’s having second thoughts.
“Just going to pull up a chair, Sammy. That’s all. Just want a front row seat.”
Biting on his bottom lip, like he’s not sure Dean’s telling the truth, he nods
and lets go of Dean’s arm. But Sam relaxes noticeably when Dean’s situates the
chair almost against the end of the bed and sinks into it.
“Okay. Ready. Just do it however you normally would. Pretend I’m not here.”
“Yeah, but I do it both ways. Stomach and back. So which do you want to see?”
“Both, eventually,” Dean says with a smirk, “But right now just your favorite.
Or whatever is most comfortable.”
Sam positions himself in the middle of the bed, and then he sinks down to his
elbows and lifts his ass in the air. Dean has a perfect view of Sam’s pink
pucker and has the sudden desire to taste it. And that’s something he’d never
done before. Always thought it was kind of gross. But with Sam, he wants to. He
wonders what Sam would sound like getting his ass licked open. Wonders what he
tastes like.
Sam spreads his legs wide and drops the toy to his right, and then there’s the
snick of the bottle of lube being opened. Dean leans back in his chair and
adjust his jeans, giving his cock room to expand because it’s already twitching
from the view. Sam spread wide and open, his balls and his cock dangling
between his legs, is a sight to behold.
When Sam reaches back and runs his wet fingers down his crack, leaving a shiny
trail in their wake, Dean has to bite down on a moan. That tight little hole of
Sam’s doesn’t look like it can take even one of Sam’s fingers, much less the
vibrator he’s planning to use. But the sound Sam makes when he places one
finger in the center and presses is hungry and needy and that finger slides
right in. And then he’s sliding the second one in as well, scissoring them
slightly and groaning at the pressure. He tilts his head enough that Dean can
see his face, eyes squinted closed and his lips hanging open. He looks like
he’s in heaven as he slots a third finger in next to the other two.
Sam’s opening swallows his fingers so easily and Sam whimpers and spreads his
legs wider as he presses them as deeply as they can go. His rim stretches wide
and thin around the intrusion and then clings to his digits as he pulls them
out. And for just a second, he gapes open and Dean can see inside his body,
dark red and then just black before it closes up. His dick throbs so hard at
the thought of sliding into all that heat and he has to press a palm against
himself and close his eyes for a few second to regain control.
When he looks back, Sam is up on his knees, slicking the vibrator up with one
hand holding it at the base and the other sliding up and down. He jacks it
longer than is strictly necessary and Dean knows it’s for his benefit. But
finally he can’t seem to wait any more, and he reaches back to position the tip
of the toy at his entrance. Dean is surprised when he doesn’t bend back over
though. Instead, he braces it against the bed, holds it between his heels, and
slides down the full length of it in one downward motion. Then he reaches back
and turns it on. The filthy moan that falls from his lips as he grinds down on
it, still squatting, has Dean standing and easing his way up the bed.
He fits himself against Sam’s back, one hand splaying over Sam’s lower stomach
and the other dancing over Sam’s chest, flicking at his pert nipples. Sam
shivers and lets his head fall back on Dean’s shoulder, smiling softly as he
works himself up and down the fake purple dick he’s riding.
“So hot, baby,” Dean whispers, breaking the silence and pulling a low whine
from Sam’s throat. “You do this a lot?”
Sam nods and turns his head so that he can scrape his teeth over the side of
Dean’s neck. “Every chance I get. Love it so much. Feels so good, Dean.”
“Looks good too, baby boy.” Sam shivers as Dean’s hands explore the front of
his body. Neck, chest, stomach, thighs, and even sliding up and down the length
of his dick a time or two. He twists and turns into Dean’s hands, welcoming and
inviting Dean to touch wherever he wants. “What do you think about, Sammy? When
you’re riding it?”
Dean knows what Sam’s going to say. It’s obvious. But that doesn’t stop his
cock from jerking against his fly when Sam says it. “You. Always you, Dean. Got
it because I wanted you. Wanted to be ready for you.”
Dean moans and buries his face in the top of Sam’s shaggy hair, breathing him
in while his hips work to lift and drop himself on the toy still buzzing
underneath him. Fuck but Dean has to get his hand on that toy. He wants to know
what kind of sound Sam would make if he jacked it up on high and angled it just
right.
With one hand braced at Sam’s middle and the other pushing at his shoulders
from behind, Dean guides him down. And Sam goes so pretty. Bends right over and
arches his back, bringing his ass up high. The vibrator slides out and his
pink, swollen hole pulses visibly at the loss. But Dean doesn’t make him wait.
He picks it up, butts the tip against Sam’s opening and slides it right in. It
goes so easily and so smoothly and Sam moans and pushes back, making sure he
gets all of it.
Dean twists and turns his wrist until he hears Sam inhale sharply and then
groan, deep and, for lack of a better word, slutty as fuck. Yeah, that’s the
spot.
“Feel good right there, Sammy? That your sweet spot, baby?”
Sam nods eagerly, whining and wiggling. Dean grins and it feels predatory.
“I’m gonna turn it up, okay? All the way. Think you can take it?”
He nods again, but it’s almost hesitant, like he’s not sure he can or if he
even wants to. But he’s willing to do it because Dean wants him to. That’s both
terrifying and heady. He could probably do anything he wants to Sam and Sam
would just take it. Because he wants Dean that much.
“If it’s too much or you don’t like it, all you gotta do is tell me to stop,
alright? I’ll always stop if you want. You’re running the show, okay, baby
boy?”
Sam whimpers and Dean taps his ass a couple times. Not spanking him,
necessarily, but just trying to get his attention. But the reaction Sam has? A
hard shudder and a rumbling moan, tells Dean that Sam likely wouldn’t mind
being spanked. Might even enjoy it. Dean makes a mental note of that because
the thought of having Sam spread out over his lap with a bright red ass is
delicious.
“Words, Sammy. You gotta use your words. Are you going to tell me to stop if
you don’t like it or can’t handle it? I mean, no hard feelings, you tell me to
stop and I do. That’s it. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Sam pants out, already worked up from having the toy jittering all over
his prostate, “I’ll tell you.”
“Good boy,” Dean praises, his free hand soothing over Sam’s ass cheek. His
response is almost equal to the light slaps Dean gave just a minute ago. So
Dean makes another mental note to get Sam all spread out and needy for him and
then just whisper all kinds of sweet things in his ear. Like he does for all
the girls he fucks. Except, with Sam, it’ll be the truth.
Dean cranks the dial up slowly, keeping the pressure steady against that spot
inside of Sam. The higher he turns it up, the more Sam’s hole twitches around
the intrusion and the louder Sam gets, moans and whimpers turn into almost
squeals. His hands dig into the pillow under his head and he rubs his face back
and forth in it, trying to muffle the sounds that are just growing in
intensity.
“D-dean,” Sam stutters out and Dean stops with it only at about half power.
“Too much, Sammy?”
“I-I can’t. S-sorry. It’s…”
But Dean doesn’t let Sam finish. True to his word, he turns the toy off and
eases it out of Sam’s clenching body. The sudden silence is almost deafening.
But Dean just waits for Sam’s breathing to even out, dropping the toy to the
floor and massaging up Sam’s back to calm him.
“Sorry,” Sam finally gets out, throat slightly raw sounding, “I tried. I just.
I’ve never. And it almost hurt.”
“It’s okay, Sammy. Did good, baby.” Dean leans over him then, dragging his open
mouth down the bumping knobs of Sam’s now bowed spine. He stops at the small of
Sam’s back and plants a wet, open mouthed kiss in the dimples on either side.
When he ventures lower, tickling his tongue in the cleft of Sam’s ass, Sam
sighs and starts to relax.
He smells like fake watermelon, sharp and fruity and Dean wonders how many
licks it would take to find Sam’s taste. How long would he have to tongue at
Sam’s loose, pliant hole before he’d taste nothing but Sam? He intends to find
out.
“Anyone ever eat you out, Sammy?”
Dean can almost hear the blush in Sam’s voice, “What? No. I. No. Nothing. Ever.
No one’s ever touched me at all. Just you.”
Dean stops then, tilting to rest his forehead against Sam’s cheek. “Are you
sure you want this, Sam? It should be someone else, shouldn’t it? Your first
time.”
He doesn’t know if he’s hoping Sam will stop him or ask him to keep going.
“I want it to be you. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”
Smiling to himself, and he’s not sure if he’s happy or sad about that
revelation, Dean presses his lips to Sam’s cheek and then moves toward his
center, using his hands to pry Sam open. The sight that greets him, Sam’s hole
open and fluttering, pink and puffy and shiny with lube, has him leaking in his
underwear.
Slowly, Dean extends his tongue and then swipes it gently, over Sam’s opening,
flat and wide. It sounds like Sam chokes on the groan that falls from his
mouth. So Dean repeats the motion and gets the exact same results. Ten, it
turns out, is how many licks it takes to rid Sam’s body of the overpowering
watermelon flavor. And then it’s just skin, clean and tender under his mouth.
When he slides his tongue inside, there’s still a faint taste of fruit, but
mostly it’s just the tang of the inside of Sam’s body.
Dean’s not sure how long he sucks and licks at Sam’s hole. Long after there’s
no trace of the lube to be found anywhere outside or inside. Long after Sam’s
come once, shivering and sobbing into the pillow as his hole contracted around
Dean’s probing muscle. Long after Sam started begging Dean please fuck me, god,
please, Dean. But he’s fascinated with the way Sam feels and tastes. He loves
the sweet little sounds Sam makes, loves knowing he’s the only one who’s ever
heard them. Hopefully the only person who ever will. But when Sam growls and
pretty much demands that Dean get your fucking dick in me right fucking now,
Dean presses one last kiss to Sam’s well-loved opening and lifts up, finally
remembering just how hard he is and just how much he wants to sink into Sam’s
heat.
“I don’t have a condom,” Dean says, stupidly, as he spreads his fly open. When
has he ever not had a condom when he needed one? Never. But he’d used his last
one two nights ago with that cute waitress at the pizza joint and just hadn’t
bought anymore yet. He hadn’t planned on needing one at least until the next
town.
“There’s some in my bag,” Sam says, voice even more ragged now that he’s spent
god knows how long pleading for Dean to fuck him. “But I don’t care if you
don’t use one.”
It’s tempting. It’s really fucking tempting. Sam’s a virgin. Tight as hell.
Silky and hot and Dean can’t even begin to imagine how that would feel gripping
his bare cock. He’s never fucked anyone without a condom. It would probably be
safe. But probably isn’t good enough when it comes to Sam. And Dean, being the
big brother here, should be setting a good example. Starting Sam out on the
right foot.
He almost laughs at that because fucking his brother without a condom isn’t
really worse than fucking him with a condom. But still. Guy’s gotta have
limits, right? Lines he won’t cross. And until he’s certain he’s clean, this is
that line.
He sheds his shirt on the way to Sam’s bag. After he digs out the small box of
Trojans, a three pack – ribbed for her pleasure, he pushes his jeans and
underwear down on the way back to the bed. By the time he knees up into Sam’s
space again, he’s naked and the condom is in place. But when he squeezes a
little more lube over himself and then starts to line up, Sam suddenly jerks
away from him and Dean stops.
It turns out that Sam doesn’t want to stop. He just wants to be in a different
position. They end up with Sam straddling him and Dean on his knees. Sam’s thin
but corded arms wrap around Dean’s neck and his eyes are bright and excited as
he stares into Dean’s.
“Like this,” Sam whispers, lining his mouth up with Dean’s just as Dean guides
his dick to Sam’s ass. Sam kisses him softly, moaning when their tongues meet,
and Dean wonders if he’s tasting himself. He hopes so. Sam tastes amazing.
Sam sinks down slowly, and Dean gets to watch his face scrunch in concentration
and then go slack with pleasure when he’s finally sitting flush over Dean’s
pelvis, cock buried deep. He meets Dean’s eyes, awe clearly evident in the way
his mouth hangs open as he grinds down on Dean’s dick several times. The heat
is almost unbearable, he’s tight and soft inside and Dean just wants to fuck up
into him hard and fast. His dick throbs in protest when he holds absolutely
still though. He has to remember this is Sam’s first time. And of all the first
times Dean has participated in, this is the most important.
“Feels so much better than the toy,” he says softly, nibbling at Dean’s mouth
once before, “Come on. Fuck me.”
They move slowly at first, Dean’s hips urging Sam into a soft, easy, up and
down motion that has Dean letting his head fall to Sam’s shoulder as he bites
at his own lip to keep from just pounding up into Sam. It feels so goddamn good
and Dean’s been flirting with coming for what feels like forever now.
Sam must realize that Dean’s holding back on his account though, because after
a few minutes of his gentle rocking motion, he starts to speed up, lifting
himself higher and dropping harder until he’s bouncing in Dean’s lap. And then
it’s a race to the finish line because Sam seems to have no intention of
slowing down.
Dean holds on to Sam’s waist with his left hand and uses his right to snake
between them and start jacking Sam’s hard, leaking cock. Sam’s making those
shaky, whining noises that Dean couldn’t get enough of right before he came the
first time, and he speeds up his hand.
Sam’s body is trembling either from the strain of keeping the pace they’ve set
or because he’s so close. Maybe both. “Come on, baby boy. Come on my cock for
me. Gonna feel so good to have you pulsing around me, milking me.”
Dean runs his mouth up the side of Sam’s neck, stopping to suck lightly at his
earlobe before flicking his tongue against the shell of Sam’s ear. And the kid
comes hard, a flood of hot come splashes over Dean’s hand and Dean groans out a
“Yeah, like that,” just before his own orgasm takes him. His shuddering climax
leaves him a whimpering mess clinging to Sam’s slim body.
Finally, Sam, gets them rearranged and even deals with Dean’s condom, carefully
pulling it off and tying it before tossing it in the floor with the vibrator
and the lube. When he lies down next to Dean again, this time both of them
naked, he pulls the cover up over them and fishes his book off the bedside
table.
“You’re going to read now? How are you not exhausted?”
Sam smiles and then hides his face against Dean’s chest when he mumbles, “I
don’t want to go to sleep yet. I’m scared it’s just a dream.”
“Hey,” Dean says, worming his hand under Sam’s head and tilting his face up by
the chin. For a few seconds he just stares into Sam’s hazel eyes, willing him
to understand that this is real and Dean has no intentions of ever giving it or
him up. And when he kisses Sam, it’s soft and sweet, gentle like Dean’s hardly
ever kissed another person before. “It’s real. Promise,” he says on an exhale
when he pulls back.
Sam nods and places another quick kiss to Dean’s lips, “But what if you regret
it in the morning?”
“I might. But not because I don’t want you and probably not enough to stop me
from doing it again.”
Sam studies him for a minute and then seems satisfied with whatever he sees on
Dean’s face. He puts his book back on the table and turns out the light,
snuggling into Dean’s side afterward. And Dean, who, as a rule, doesn’t do
cuddles or snuggles, holds Sam close and kisses the top of his head. He bends a
lot of rules for Sam.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
