
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/481492.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Frottage, Somnophilia, Spooning, Hand_Jobs
  Collections:
      Supernatural_Kink_Meme
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-09 Words: 4447
****** Under Covers ******
by tfw_ftw
Summary
     Sam is trying to deal with his newfound urges since hitting puberty.
     His big brother Dean is always there with helpful advice, of course.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The first time Sammy woke up with morning wood, Dean explained to his red-faced
brother that it was a part of growing up.
“You’re a man now, Sammy,” Dean teased.
“Shut up, Dean,” Sam grumbled.
“Seriously though,” sympathy lacing Dean’s words. “Don’t worry about popping a
boner in the morning, you were asleep when it happened. That means it’s not
your fault.”
When Dean catches a half-way to conscious Sam humping the bed to alleviate his
morning wood a few days later, he turns red-faced and practically runs back to
the bathroom. Surprise boners aren’t cool, especially when caused by your kid
brother. Luckily for him, Sam was still technically out of it. Dean takes a few
deep breaths to calm down; thinking of baseball, the ghost he and Dad just took
down, anything other than Sam’s frenzied grind into the mattress. A knock on
the door helps clear his thoughts, but Sam’s voice, morning-rough and slowly
getting deeper, throws his hormones back in gear.
“Deeeeeean,” Sam whines but quickly drops down an octave. “Come on, Dean, I
gotta take a shower.”
Dean opens the door and immediately sees the dark spot that Sam’s trying to
cover with his t-shirt. He almost moans, “Fu--,” clearing his throat. “Fucking
hell, Sammy. Can’t a guy take a leak.”
Sam pushes his way into the bathroom and Dean walks into the room sitting down
at the two seater table when their dad comes in with a bag of McDonald’s and a
carrier of drinks. Hearing the shower turn on prompts John to speak.
“When Sammy gets out, we’re hitting the road. I want to be in Kansas by
nightfall.”
--
They’re still four hours to Wichita when 11 o’clock rolls around, so John
decides to find the cheapest hotel in Atwood. When John opens the door to room
6 of the “It’ll DO Motel” Dean knows it will be a long night for him. If only
because he sees there’s only one bed. Dean looks to his dad, questioning.
“It’s only for tonight. You boys go ahead and get to bed, we’re back on the
road first thing. Don’t wait up,” John mumbles most of what he just said then
walks back out.
Sam places his bookbag on the one chair by the door and grabs his bedclothes
from inside. He changes out of his t-shirt and jeans as quickly as his tiring
body will allow him and hops on the right side of the bed, clad in an
undershirt and gym shorts.
Once Dean finishes inspecting the room, he sits at the foot of the bed and
finds a clean t-shirt to wear.
“Sammy, you better not spread out on the whole bed,” Dean says as he smacks at
Sam’s foot.
--
Somewhere around 2 in the morning, Dean wakes up to Sam pressed flush against
his front squirming to get comfortable. Dean’s not sure how they ended up
spooning but the feeling of Sam’s slick gym shorts sliding along his thighs is
quickly riling him up.
“Shit,” Dean whispers under his breath. The noise triggers Sam to wind his hips
significantly harder than the first time, a huff sounding much like “Dean”
escapes his lips.
Dean knows he is completely screwed, the chubby he had a minute ago is now a
raging hard-on tucked snug between Sam’s cheeks. Dean sees Sam’s breath fall
back into a deep even rhythm and he can’t help but to test his luck. He
tentatively thrusts, praying Sam stays asleep. When he sees that the motion
garnered no reaction, he tries again.
This time he catches on Sam’s shorts and moves smoothly up and down, biting his
lip to contain the moan that sits at the top of his throat. “I can’t be doing
this.” He thinks to himself. Yet he pumps his hips again and any negative
thought is smashed down by the weak moan that comes from Sam.
He takes his time, making sure not to move too fast or hard as to wake Sam. The
last thing he needs is to try and explain this. The first thing, though, is to
come, because he’s harder than he has ever been in his 16 years and Dean’s sure
if he doesn’t come that he will literally die. Dean comes, hoping that it all
stayed in his boxers. He knows it will be a bitch to clean in the morning, but
that’s a problem for later.
--
If Sam noticed anything last night, he doesn’t say, which Dean is exceptionally
happy for. John pulls them all into Wichita around 10 am; a quick stop for food
and soon after they’re all checked in to this week’s basecamp. Dean’s glad it’s
summer; he and Sam don’t have school and it means he gets to go out with dad
more often. Unfortunately, John’s here mostly for meeting new contacts which
means Dean’s cooped up with Sam in another nameless place and Dad’s out the
door as soon as everything they may need is out of the Impala.
After watching three hours of old black and white ‘Twilight Zone’ episodes,
Dean looks over at Sam who’s hidden behind his computer. “Sam, I’m bored.
Entertain me,” he pesters.
Sam retorts, “Dean, just change the channel. I’m sure you’ll find something
else.”
“But Saaaammyyyy,” Dean whines, voice exaggeratedly high-pitched. “I want you
to entertain me. What are you doing on the computer, anyway?”
Dean walks to stand behind Sam. Sam frantically tries to navigate away from his
current window. Dean catches a glimpse of the webpage that’s slowly minimizing
entitled “The Unexpected Erection” and looks down at his brother-turned-tomato
trying to shrink into his chair.
“Sam. Didn’t I explain that to you already?”
Sam blushes further, stammering, “Uh.. Yea, I just.. Uh. Wanted to, uh.”
“Spit it out, Sam,” Dean says exasperated.
“I guess I just wanted.. Wanted to make sure that it was normal. Okay?”
“Sammy, I told you it was.”
“I know, but..”
Dean cuts him off, “I mean it happens to me all the time.”
Sam stops twitching and looks at Dean with wide eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, Sammy. At least every other day, but my hormones are more in control
than yours. But if it happens you just take care of it and go on with your
life. It’s no big deal.”
“Take.. care.. of it?” Sam’s perks up meekly.
Dean looks down at Sam, “You gotta be kidding me?”
Sam looks down at his hands, his head shaking a fraction to each side.
“You jerk off, Sam. You know.” Dean makes the universal hand sign for jerking
off in front of Sam’s face. “Rub one out. And keep it moving.”
--
Dean never knows how Sam’s egghead brain will take in new information. He
remembers, when Sam was about 8, Dad forced them to memorize the demon
exorcising ritual. Dean learned to recite it forward, backward and from any
point onward. Sam, on the other hand, decided to research the meanings of each
word, eventually teaching himself Latin.
So when Dean had, what he guesses counts as, “the talk” with Sam, he knew his
brother wasn’t just going to take it for face value. It’s been 3 days since
their conversation and Sam set up a permanent base in front of his desktop,
taking a bathroom break every 2 hours like clockwork. Dean watches him from the
corner of his eye while the ABC Sunday movie marathon serves as a distraction.
Dinner time comes around and Dean turns to Sam, “So I’m gonna walk over to the
pizza place anything else you want?”
“I’m fine.” Sam mumbles, not breaking eye contact with the monitor.
Dean walks back to the room 20 minutes later with a large meat lovers under one
arm and a six-pack of Coke in the other hand. The pizzeria already having a pie
ready when he arrived, perks of calling ahead. He opens the door to a high-
pitched squeal. He quickly seeks out the source to find Sam jumping up from his
chair in front of the computer, pants hanging off his hips, and running across
the room to the bathroom. Both doors are slammed shut and Dean puts everything
down on the space behind Sam’s computer on the table. He walks over to the
bathroom and knocks.
“Everything alright, Sammy?”
Sam yells from in the room, “You could’ve knocked before you came in!”
“I could barely open the door, my hands were full.” Dean tries to contain his
laughter. “Did I interrupt something?”
“SHUT UP, DEAN!”
Dean laughs loudly. “Come on, Sammy. I didn’t mean to come in between you and
your special alone time.”
“SHUT UP!”
Dean walks away from the bathroom door, turning his head to yell, “Well, I’m
eating while the pizza is still hot. Join me when you finish up in there.”
Sam growls in anger loud enough to be heard through the door. Dean snickers not
caring if he is heard.
--
John wraps up in Wichita a day later and they’re all back on the road. He tells
Dean the next stop is somewhere at the bottom of Texas. 15 hours later finds
Dean salting windows and trying to fix the in-the-wall air conditioning unit
that seems to be stuck on high.
“Dean, it’s freezing in here,” Sam complains from the couch, the comforter he
dragged off the bed wrapped around him two times.
“I’m working on it, Sammy. And it’s better to be cold than melting in the 100
degree heat.” Dean puts the panel back on the front of the unit and plugs it
back in. The air conditioner roars back to life, still pumping out extremely
cold air. “I’ll call the front office when it opens tomorrow. For now, stop
complaining.”
“I’ll shut up if you get me the other blanket,” Sam huffs.
“And what am I supposed to use to keep warm?”
Sam shrugs, “We can huddle up? Body heat or something like that?”
Dean grabs the other comforter, tucking it around himself as he sits next to
Sam.
Sam grumbles at Dean, “Why are you such a jerk?”
“Quit your bitching.” Dean grins, opening his arms for Sam. Sam knee-walks to
him and sits on Dean’s extended legs, leaning back on his chest.
--
They fall asleep watching some bad tv horror movie about piranhas, Sam laying
face-down with his head nested in Dean’s neck; the two blankets above and below
them, nothing in between. Dean stirs when he hears Sam murmuring. Once awake,
Dean sees that Sam is writhing on top of him, deep sighs and short groans
coming from Sam as he humps Dean’s thigh.
“Fuck, me,” Dean curses to himself. He tries to wiggle off the couch but
instead manages to position himself directly under Sam’s still humping hips.
The second their dicks line up, Dean knows he’s done for. He forces himself not
to buck up when he hears another whimper from Sam. He decides he should try to
wake Sam, if only to prevent his quickly developing erection.
“Sammy,” he whispers shaking Sam around the waist. “Wake up, Sammy.”
Sam shifts, moving harder down into Dean’s cock and moans out, “Dean.”
Dean bites back his own whine and pleads, “Sam, come on.”
“Dean,” Sam draws out the name sleepily and bears down firmly again. “Mmmm,
feels good.”
Dean stops fighting and lays there as Sam grinds against him. Sam’s exhales
speed up and after a minute he’s thrusting in a broken rhythm as he comes. His
breathing evens out and Sam falls back into a deep sleep. This leaves Dean
shell-shocked and a bit dizzy from all the blood still rushing to his lower
body. He moves to get from under Sam again and this time wakes him.
Sam leans back, lifting up off Dean, yawning. He asks, “what time is it?”
“Um. I’m not...” Dean starts, but he can see that Sam suddenly realizes he’s
come in his pants. Sam goes to look down at himself and his eyes stop at Dean’s
own tented shorts.
“Dean? What?” Sam looks more embarrassed than Dean’s ever seen him. “Dean, what
happened?”
“It’s okay, Sammy. No need to freak out.” Dean tries to keep calm. His hands
coming up to placate Sam.
Sam’s voice is laced with panic, “What did I do?”
“We were sleep and I’m guessing you had an urge. It’s okay, though.” Dean’s
soothing voice in full effect. “You took care of it and now you’re fine.”
“I was humping you?” Sam says frantically. “I thought I was dreaming.”
“Don’t worry about it. I said it was cool. You’re good now and that’s all that
matters.”
Sam sits back on his heels, the blanket on his shoulders sliding off, and looks
over the both of them. “So you’ve got a boner now because I’m a perv.”
“One, you weren’t being a perv. You and I were both asleep there’s not too much
you can control when you’re unconscious.” Dean sits up fully, adjusting
himself. “And B, this isn’t a problem I haven’t had to take care of before. Now
go get into a real bed and I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
Dean walks to the bathroom, turning on the light and closing the door. His
erection has gone down, thankfully, so he splashes cold water on his face and
goes back into the room. Sam has grabbed the two comforters and gotten into his
bed.
“So I don’t get a blanket?” Dean calls over as he walks toward his brother.
Sam pokes his head out from under the covers, a blush still faintly visible on
his cheeks. “That’s not it. Using both was a heck of a lot warmer than one.” He
pauses, looking around awkwardly. “And you helped too.”
“Well, since I couldn’t fix the air, I guess I gotta make sure my kid brother
doesn’t freeze to death overnight, right?” Dean climbs into the bed facing Sam,
feeling the huge temperature difference compared to the cold air he was just
standing in. Dean’s on his side and Sam on his back as sleep slowly takes over
them again.
--
He’s almost completely back to sleep when he hears Sam whisper his name. Before
he can answer Sam says it again, seemingly testing to see if Dean’s awake. Dean
feigns sleep, hoping Sam will turn over and follow suit, wanting to avoid any
further awkward conversations.
“Dean, I just wanted to know if you. Uh, took care of yourself after...
earlier.” He nudges at Dean’s arm, who tries to keep as still as possible. “I
mean, you weren’t in the bathroom long, so I assume you didn’t really.. ya
know.” Sam sighs when he gets no response and rolls over onto his side, facing
away from Dean.
After a few minutes of silence, Sam starts inching back. He crowds himself
against Dean and looks over his shoulder to check for any reaction. Dean, of
course, is pretending to be dead to the world.
“Just don’t wake up,” Sam whispers as he backs his ass into Dean’s crotch.
“Like you said, it’s okay if you’re sleep.”
Dean holds his breath and tries to keep himself under control. Sam’s making
little circles with his hips and there isn’t a thought he can conjure that is
willing down his dick.
Sam is insistent and growing steadily braver as Dean lies motionless. When
Dean’s erection nudges more firmly at the top of his ass, Sam reaches back and
brushes up Dean’s thigh. He wedges his hand between their bodies and gasps in
surprise at the size.
A quick flip over and Sam’s staring at Dean. He tentatively runs his fingers up
the bulge in Dean’s sweatpants. “Damn,” he breathes out. “I hope I get as big
as you someday, Dean.” Sam continues the light touches, checking Dean’s face
every few seconds to make sure he’s still sleeping.
When Sam flipped over, Dean released the death grip his teeth had on his bottom
lip. If he was going to pretend to be sleeping, he’d somehow have to find a way
not to react. That task is becoming increasingly difficult as Sam’s caresses
turn into halfway-there strokes of his dick. The friction from Sam’s hand and
the cotton of his pants isn’t helping either. He can’t hold back the breathy
moan that escapes when Sam first brushes the head, but he does shut his eyes
tighter, no longer keeping them just slightly open to watch.
“I wonder..” Sam starts, reaching over with his other hand to palm at Dean’s
balls. Dean shudders and jerks into Sam’s hand against all opposition from his
mind and Sam responds with a chuckle, “I guess you do.” It only takes one more
pass of Sam’s fist around Dean’s covered length and Dean’s coming with a grunt
into the small space of air between them.
Sam rolls back onto his other side. “Sorry about before,” the last thing Dean
hears before passing out.
--
They wake up around 9 and Sam is tight-lipped about everything from last night
so Dean goes to the front office and complains about the air conditioner. They
tell him a replacement unit will be brought to the room later in the day. When
he gets back to the room, Sam is slumped over his computer, one of the
comforters cocooning him except for his right hand coming from the top.
“The maintenance guy will come by later with a new AC. It should be better in
here then,” Dean informs Sam while gathering the garbage from last night’s
dinner. “You hungry?”
“I guess,” Sam provides meekly.
“Let’s head out, get something to eat. I could go for some french toast.” Dean
hopes that Sam’s breakfast weakness will perk him up.
Sam looks over to Dean with bright eyes and smiles. “French toast sounds
awesome.”
Brownsville, Texas doesn’t have too many places to eat off the highway. Luckily
for Dean, there is a Mexican restaurant attached to the hotel that also serves
breakfast. So after his huevos rancheros sans refried beans, because as Sammy
says “The last thing we need is for you to be gassy,” and Sam’s strawberry
topped french toast arrive, they fall back into a comfortable silence.
They take their time finishing up their meals, enjoying the appropriately
cooled restaurant atmosphere. Dean orders some tacos to-go for later in the day
and watches as Sam leans back into the booth, the haze of a food coma falling
over him.
“Wanna go see if the room is back to normal? I was thinking we could hit the
pool later too.” Dean elbows Sam in the arm.
Sam perks up. “We haven’t had a hotel with a pool in a while. But I’m going to
need a nap first, I’m stuffed.”
Dean snorts a laugh and throws down the money for the bill, grabbing the to-go
order. “Well, come on then.”
--
The short walk back to the room energizes Sam and all previous signs of his
tiredness are wiped from his face. However, Dean’s meal has caught up with him
and he flops onto the freshly made bed upon entering. Sam bustles around the
room; putting away the food, pulling shorts out of both their bags, changing
into sweatpants and getting comfortable on one side of the couch as he channel
surfs.
Dean, realizing that the air is still unnecessarily cold, kicks his shoes off
and climbs under the blanket. He wakes up sometime later with the blanket
thrown off him and Sam nestled up next to him. It appears that during his nap
the new air conditioner was installed, but it works as badly as the old one,
seeing that the room is heavy with Texas’s smothering heat. Dean gets up off
the bed, easily sliding away from Sam without rousing him.
“Guess we’ll just be cold until dad gets us out of here,” He says aloud,
turning off the window unit and plugging back in the other. Dean uses the
bathroom and heads back into the rapidly cooling room, grabbing the remote on
the way. He sits against the headboard on the bed beside Sam.
Sam is spread eagle, taking up three quarters of the queen mattress. Dean uses
his foot to nudge Sam’s side, in an attempt to wake him. Sam instead stretches
his limbs out further and moves his hand over his crotch, slowly starting to
stroke himself up and down in his sleep.
“Oh to be 12 and constantly horny.” Dean laughs to himself.
His smile drops a bit as he watches Sam’s movements become more bold, small
noises coming from them both as Sam uses his whole hand to press down. Dean
falls into a trance watching Sam’s hand move faster and more sure. He doesn’t
realize he’s sitting up on his knees and his own hand is moving until his
fingertips brush against Sam’s knuckles.
Sam softly moans “Dean” and squeezes the line of his dick.
Dean looks down at his hand and pulls it back worrying he’s gone too far. He
sees Sam turn to him, now awake, out the corner of his eye.
Sam is staring at Dean pleadingly, eyes still lidded from sleep. “Please,
Dean,” he whispers.
“What do you want, Sam?” Dean’s not sure what he’s going to hear but wants to
know anyway.
“I want...” Sam hesitates for a brief moment. “I want you,” he states,
confident and firm, grabbing the top of Dean’s hand and placing it on his
erection. “And you to want me too.”
Any negative counter Dean has is quickly dispelled when Sam rolls his hips up
into Dean’s palm. Dean lays down even with Sam, hand still in place. He looks
into Sam’s eyes. “You sure?”
“Yes,” Sam says, then closes the little space between their faces and kisses
Dean. Sam kisses tentatively until Dean parts his lips and suddenly any reserve
either boy had is gone to the wind. They kiss feverishly, Dean taking advantage
of this opportunity that may never happen again. Sam practically climbs on top
of Dean, straddling him to line up their cocks.
“Get these off,” Sam instructs as he undoes the button and fly of Dean’s jeans.
He kneels up and watches Dean squirm out of his pants, while pulling his own
sweatpants down and kicking them off to the side. He takes his place back on
Dean’s lap and starts on kissing Dean along the collar of his t-shirt.
Dean lays beneath Sam, completely overwhelmed. He tries to focus but can’t
decide if he wants to encourage Sam’s soft lips and hot tongue on his neck or
tell Sam to grind down harder on his hips. All he manages to do is mumble out
“fuck” and “Sammy.”
l
Sam smiles down at Dean as he leans back. His right hand sliding in the fly
hole of Dean’s boxer briefs. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,”
he says while pulling Dean’s dick between the worn cotton layers. Sam quickly
yanks down the waistband to his briefs, tucking it under his balls, and wraps a
firm grip around both their cocks. “You’re so much bigger than I am, Dean.
Look, I need two hands to get around us both.” Sam points out while lacing his
fingers together, his palms moving up and around the heads of their dicks.
Dean is speechless to Sam’s onslaught. Every tug of his cock pulls moans from
him and each time Sam’s thumb brushes over his slit he tries to contain his
whimpering. He stares up at Sam’s flushed face and takes the time to burn the
image into his memory. Sam’s head is lolled forward, eyes closed tight as he
works them closer to orgasm, lips slightly parted and wet from licking them
after he pants. “God,” Dean blurts out. “You’re gorgeous,” he says this time to
himself.
That must have sounded like an exclamation of pleasure to Sam, because he opens
his eyes and looks over Dean with a smile. “I know.” Sam admits, “I saw this on
the computer the other night. I now can’t wait to try what else I learned.” Sam
releases his hold and leans down to kiss Dean again.
Their hurried, lustful kisses from before are now tender and passionate. Both
of them pouring emotions into the act that neither can, or are willing to,
express in words.
A low pitched keen from Dean spurs on Sam’s slow thrusts. Their cocks are
wedged tight next to each other and in between their bodies. Drops of precome
and sweat from Sam’s exposed crotch help Dean slide beside him while, he
realizes, dampening his underwear.
“Take your clothes off,” Dean mumbles around Sam’s lips.
Sam looks down at him in surprise.
“I mean, I don’t want to get all our stuff messed up,” Dean explains. “And you
seem to be fucking up my boxers right now.”
Sam smiles brightly at him; Dean blames the warmth in his chest on his hard on.
They strip quickly and end up on their sides face to face. Sam goes in for a
kiss again, but Dean leans back. “Are you sure, you’re sure about this?”
“Dean, we’re naked,” Sam answers matter-of-factly. “It’s too late to be
unsure.” He grabs Dean’s hip. “But if you need to hear it. Yes. I want to do
this... with you.” Sam’s hand drops down to grope Dean’s cock. The gentle
touches become a firmer grip and teasing strokes up and over his full length.
As much as Dean wants to watch, he sets to return the favor. His fingers
explore Sam’s dick; the baby soft skin taut over muscle, the beginnings of
pubic hair around the base, the sensitivity of his scrotum.
Sam gasps from Dean’s attention and moves his hip in encouragement, excitedly
speeding up his own motions.
They jerk each other off lazily at first, learning what the other boy likes
best. Then they find a matching rhythm with hands, hips and sounds. Sam is the
first to stutter. “I think I’m gonna come, Dean,” he cries.
“Roll my balls around in your other hand,” Dean growls. “Like dice.” Dean
doesn’t let up as Sam follows his instructions. Sam whines out a moan when he
comes over Dean’s fingers, squeezing both his hands tight. The pressure makes
Dean throw his head back and wail as he shoots up Sam’s stomach.
Their hands drop to the bed and they lay still trying to catch their breaths. A
few minutes pass and Sam speaks up. “So how long did Dad say we would be here?
Cause it’s still too cold to sleep without both covers.” He smiles cheekily,
scooting over to burrow in Dean’s neck.
End Notes
     Kinkmeme fill for this prompt: "Sam and Dean somehow get it into
     their heads that anything that happens while they're "asleep"
     (usually just pretending to be asleep) is okay. They start gently
     exploring each other over pajamas night after night, eventually
     getting more and more daring and pushing the boundaries of what they
     can realistically get away with and still claim to be asleep. Both
     are coming up with excuses for sharing a bed, even when the situation
     doesn't strictly warrant it, and possibly excuses for wearing less
     and less to bed. I'm picturing lots of frottage -- both spoon
     position and face-to-face -- and possibly hand jobs. Whether they
     ever decide to stop pretending and just full-on make out or fuck is
     up to author."
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