
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13910346.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sam_Winchester, Sam_is_14, dean_is_18, Incest, Sibling_Incest,
      Voyeurism, Voyeur_Dean, Voyeur_Sam, Blow_Jobs, Anal_Fingering, High
      School, Semi-Public_Blow_Jobs, Blow_Jobs_at_School, Closet_Sex, Sam
      Winchester_Has_Puppy_Dog_Eyes, Come_Swallowing, Rough_Oral_Sex, Dirty
      Talk, Deep_Throating, Skipping_Class, Teenagers, Horny_Teenagers,
      Weecest, Snowballing, Wincest_-_Freeform
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-08 Words: 2203
****** You Didn't Listen When You Went To School ******
by PosseMagnet
Summary
     The kids at school know the new Winchester brothers are different.
     Everything about them is strange. From the way Dean effortlessly
     completes any physical challenge that gym class can throw at him
     without even breaking a sweat. To the way Sam is the smartest kid in
     all his classes, even though he's a freshman, and all his classes are
     college-level and full of seniors. But the most peculiar thing about
     the Winchesters, the thing that everyone notices: the way they come
     tumbling out of empty classrooms, closets, bathroom stalls, untidy
     hair, messy clothes, cheeks flushed with a color that’s almost as
     intense as the color of their lips.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Sam throws open his locker after AP Calculus and hurls his bookbag inside. When
he reaches in to fish out his bag lunch, he finds a note. It’s written in
Dean’s all caps, no nonsense script.
 
S,
It's not gonna suck itself.
-D
 
Sam snorts a laugh and tucks the note into his pocket. He doesn’t bother with
his lunch. He won’t need it anyway.
 
—————————————————
 
He ducks into the janitors closet on the senior hall two minutes later. Dean is
already waiting for him, leaning against the sink with a smirk.
 
“Why during lunch again, Dean?” Sam asks sounding more cross than he intended.
 
“Aww, sorry, Sammy,” Dean pouts, not nearly as sincere as Sam thought he should
be. “It’s gotta be now, because I’m skipping the rest of the day. Dad called
and asked me to do some research for him. Besides,” he swaggers over to Sam,
palming his cock through his jeans, “I’m sure you’ll be okay on a… liquid
diet.” He smiles big, all plump pink lips and shark teeth.
 
“Jesus, Dean, don’t be a dick,” he complains even as he grabs Dean by the belt
and pulls his big brother in for a kiss that’s more teeth than tongue. It’s
only noon, but Dean already tastes like whiskey.
 
Grabbing a handful of Sam’s long hair, Dean pulls Sam back a couple inches, and
growls low and dirty, “I’ll show you a dick, little brother.”
 
He uses the handful of hair still squeezed in his fist to force Sam to kneel on
the grimy closet floor. He holds Sam’s face there, inches away from his crotch
while he uses his other hand to undo his belt and the front of his pants.
 
Sam’s mouth is open, tongue out, before Dean even gets his dick out. A thin
line of drool leaks off his tongue tip and falls on the floor between his
spread knees. Dean slaps his cock against Sam’s tongue, the salty taste of
precome rolls over his taste buds. He looks up at Dean, his hazel fox-eyes are
wide, and he does his best to look young, innocent. Give Dean something pure to
ruin.

Dean curses. His little brother is the dirtiest pervert Dean has ever met
(okay, aside from himself) but fuck if his little brother doesn’t look like a
tight-assed little virgin from this angle. Dean is all too happy to feed his
cock to that perfect little mouth, with a deep groan when Sam seals his lips
around the head and hums a happy noise.
 
Sam sucks dick like a fucking professional whether they’re in a motel, the
backseat of the Impala, or on the dirty floor of a closet in a high school
they’ll never see again after a couple more weeks. And, innocent eyes or no,
Sam slips Dean’s dick down his throat flawlessly without waiting for Dean to
push him down the generous length.
 
Sam’s nose is buried in the curly hair surrounding the thick cock that
stretches Sam’s throat wide. Dean growls a curse and grabs two handfuls of hair
and starts fucking his little brother’s throat with a punishing pace that would
have made a lesser cocksucker lose the contents of their stomach.
 
The tight sheath of Sam’s throat clenches around Dean’s dick and he fucks
thick, foamy spit from down deep. He pulls away to let Sam gulp a breath.
Before he feeds his dick back into Sam’s mouth, Dean forces three fingers into
Sam’s throat to pull more of the slick foam out of him. He curls the fingers
behind Sam’s tongue, which finally makes his talented little cockslut gag.
 
“Yeah, Sammy. Good boy,” Dean praises. “Fucking gag for me, baby.” He rumbles a
groan when Sam coughs more thick slobber onto his fingers. He takes his fingers
back and slicks them over his cock before feeding it, and all that thick foam
back into Sam’s mouth.
 
The bell for next period rings and the hallway outside fills with the clamor of
laughing kids and their squeaking shoes. Occasionally someone will drum their
fingers on the door of the closet they’re defiling, and both Winchesters drip a
little precome at the thought of being caught.
 
“Shit, Sammy,” curses Dean, “Any one of these brats could walk in here and
catch you kneeling on the floor with your big brother’s cock in your mouth.
Fuck, baby. Bet they’d be jealous. Mmm. Or the janitor could walk in. He’d
definitely want a turn. I bet he’d love to get his dick inside of you. Yeah. He
looks the type who’d get off on having some fourteen-year-old boy-pussy turned
out on his cock.”
 
Tears leak down Sam’s face, but it isn’t because Dean’s upsetting him. No, it’s
the opposite, in fact. What Dean is saying is hitting all Sam’s buttons. He
knows that the one that loves turning out his fourteen-year-old boy-cunt the
most is his big brother Dean, and Dean would gut the old creep for so much as
side-eying Sam.
 
No, Sam is tearing up because Dean is skilled at taking Sam apart with words,
and both Winchester brothers are voyeurs in the worst fucking way. Years of
finger fucking, face fucking, and actual fucking with John Winchester in the
front seat, or the next bed has added a wicked voyeuristic kink to both boys.
And the thought of someone catching them is making Sam work Dean’s cock even
harder, just in case. If someone does walk in, Sam wants them to know what a
good little cock slut he is for his big brother.
 
Then a shadow presses against the frosted glass door. A moan quickly makes it
obvious it’s two kids making out. They play at being rough, when one of them
softly slams the other against the door. Dean snickers and eyerolls his way
down to survey Sam’s beautiful face. Tear streaked cheeks, flushed pink with
lack of oxygen, chin painted with a foamy brew of precome and phlegm, lips
stretched thin around the base of his big brother’s big cock.
 
Fucking beautiful.
 
The two lovebirds outside the janitor’s closet had nothing on the love story of
Sam and Dean.
 
Even amid the trickle of students milling in the hall before the tardy bell,
Dear overhears one lovebird whispering, “C’mon... in here.”
 
Still camped out deep and wet on Dean’s cock, Sam winks at his big brother.
 
Then the doorknob turns and the door cracks open.
 
Dean cock swells and starts pumping come, thick and hot down Sam’s throat.
 
“Ah, fuck, just like that, baby,” Dean swears, louder than necessary, startling
the lovebirds. They haven’t opened the door fully, but through the ringing in
his ears Sam hears a feminine gasp, and a gruff apology. The door clicks shut a
second later.
 
Sam refuses to take his mouth of Dean’s cock until it’s soft and clean and
oversensitive.
 
Dean pulls Sam up for a messy kiss. Hands on Sam’s belt, button, zipper,
pushing the soft denim down his narrow hips.
 
“Pants off, Sammy,” Dean demands breathlessly.
 
Sam leans against one of the shelves lining the walls to pull off the first leg
of his loose jeans slipping his scuffed sneaker off along with it. Evidently,
he was taking too long for Deans liking, because he only had one leg of his
jeans off, but Dean was on him. Dean’s big, rough hands grip Sam’s thighs,
lifting him off the floor and slamming him into the shelves. Something falls,
tinkling onto the floor and rolling away under the shelves, forgotten among the
dust bunnies.
 
Sam catches his fingers in Dean’s shirt, pulling them closer together, begging
under his breath for Dean to get Sam’s cock in his mouth already. Obligingly,
Dean flips his grip to the bottom of Sam’s thighs, lifting Sam like he weighs
next to nothing. He perches Sam on his shoulders. A piggy back ride for a
pervert, Sam thinks, distractedly.
 
It was almost laundry day, and Sam didn’t have any clean boxers when he got
dressed this morning, and Dean’s were too big for him, so he’d gone to school
commando. An appreciative hiss from Dean when Sam’s rigid cock slaps against
his cheek makes Sam consider never wearing underwear again.
 
Dean shifts his brother slightly, settling Sam’s bony ass into the palms of his
hands, so he can slurp Sam’s drippy little dick into his mouth.
 
“Dean, Jesus,” Sam chokes out. It turns into a frantic chant when Dean has
Sam’s cock sheathed in the tight heat of his throat. “Shitfuckshitfuck,
godfuckingdamnitDean.” He repeats himself over and over, winded as Dean’s hot
mouth slicks up and down over his dick.
 
Sam’s leaking onto Dean’s tongue and the taste makes the older boy hum his
approval. The vibrations coax even more precome from Sam, along with a long
groan. Sam spreads his arms out to brace his elbows on the shelves behind him,
so he can thrust into Dean’s mouth.
 
More stuff falls to the floor of the closet. Sam is grateful it’s nothing loud,
because even if they were interrupted it would take a firing squad to remove
his dick from Dean’s mouth right this second. But the noise distracts him
enough to be shocked when one of Dean’s fingers drags over his crack to press
at his tight asshole. The finger is slick, and it isn’t the cool jelly of lube.
Sam automatically knows it’s spit and that Dean’s drooling all over his dick
right now. The calloused digit slides rough and persistent past the rings of
tight muscle. Dean goes right for Sam’s prostate, stroking it without mercy.
 
Sam is overwhelmed with sensation. Two of Dean’s fingers slip into Sam’s mouth,
pressing his tongue down firmly. He must be making a noise too loud for the
location, the halls were quiet now, after all, and they were right next to a
classroom full of teenagers. He can’t tell though, through the ringing in his
ears because now Dean has two fingers in his ass and is only pulling off the
base of his cock infrequently to gulp in quick huffs of air.
 
One last delicious moment of tightness when Dean swallows around his shaft, and
rough push into his ass, and Sam’s cock gives up the ghost, come pumping salty
and thick down his big brother’s throat. Dean pulls his head back, drawing Sam
out of his throat so he can catch the last few hot jets on his tongue.
 
Dean lets Sam drop down so he’s on the floor again. His jeans still hang off
the one leg he hadn’t removed when Dean picked him up. Dean hauls him in with a
fist wound into the front of Sam’s shirt, and a bruising hand on Sam’s slim
hip. He kisses Sam until Sam’s lips part, running his tongue out to trace
against Dean’s lips, lapping up the beads of come that dot his brother’s fair
skin.
 
Dean kisses into Sam’s mouth. Sam groans when Dean’s tongue breaches his lips,
because Dean’s pushing Sam’s own come into his mouth. Neither boy swallows,
passing it back and forth until they break apart, swallowing what’s left in
their own mouth once their lips part.
 
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean’s voice is like sandpaper, “Kinda want to stay here all
day, fucking you in this closet. Or… maybe in all the closets.” Sam moans
because Dean honestly looks like he’s seriously considering it. “Yeah, Sammy. I
can fuck you in all the closets and then put you on the bus, so you can ride
home with my come leaking out of you on the school bus with all your friends.”
 
“Jesus Christ, Dean,” Sam breathes. “Do it. Please.”
 
Dean beds to retrieve Sam’s shoe and hands it to him. “Can’t,” he says, “Told
ya Dad needed me to do some research for him. I gotta go.”
 
“Take me with you,” Sam pouts, pulling his pants back on. “I don’t wanna stay
here if you’re leaving.”
 
Dean looks critically down at his little brother. Sam’s puppy dog eyes are in
full force and Dean puts up a token protest, “You can’t keep missing school,
Sammy. You won’t pass.”
 
“Please,” Sam snorts with derision. “I’m in twelfth grade classes, and I know
more than the teachers. My Latin teacher knows less about Latin than I did five
years ago. It’s pathetic. This isn’t the worst school we’ve ever been to, but
it’s pretty fucking close. Take me home, Dean.”
 
“I have research to do, Sam,” Dean crosses his arms, “You know dad’s depending
on it. As much as I’d like to, I can’t spend the afternoon fucking you on every
piece of furniture in our room.”
 
Sam recognized that he had Dean on the ropes. Nocking the last arrow in his
quiver, he pouts out his bottom lip and says, “You don’t have to Dean. Do your
research. I’ll be fine on my own. Orrr… I could stay on my knees for you. Suck
your cock for you. Keep myself busy, so you can do your research.”
 
“Do you need to stop by your locker before we go?” Dean chokes out, dragging
Sam out of the closet with an insistent hand on the back of his neck.
End Notes
     Title is from: Back to School by Nazareth
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