Supernatural: Youthful Indiscretions (Weecest, nc-17)
Title: Youthful Indiscretions
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Weecest)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my filthy thoughts
Warnings/kinks/enticements: Underage (possibly extreme, Sam is 12), sibling incest, somnophilia, non-con, first time, wet dreams.
Summary: After lying next to Sam for what feels like days, it’s finally time. As soon as his baby brother’s breathing changes to signal the start of the dreams the kid’s been having the past few weeks, Dean’s cock is rock hard in a matter of seconds. He knows it’s all kinds of fucked up to be turned on by Sam having wet dreams, but he’s only human, a teenager with raging hormones of his own and the beautiful sounds Sam makes, the breathy little moans and whimpers he lets out while he thrashes about in pleasure, are just too hard to resist. Nobody will ever know, Dad’s on a hunt and Sam’s dead to the world, it’s just Dean and his conscience, and honestly by this point he’s resigned to the fact he’s going to Hell, someday, anyway.
A/N: Inspired by this GIF of Colin Ford, who gives us perfect Weecest fodder as young Sam. Although I cannot be 100% certain, my research puts Colin around the same age as Sam in the fic, he kinda looked 12 for about 4 years so sometimes it's hard to tell with him! Don't click if you're in any way uncomfortable with that.
After lying next to Sam for what feels like days, it’s finally time. As soon as his baby brother’s breathing changes to signal the start of the dreams the kid’s been having the past few weeks, Dean’s cock is rock hard in a matter of seconds. He knows it’s all kinds of fucked up to be turned on by Sam having wet dreams, but he’s only human, a teenager with raging hormones of his own and the beautiful sounds Sam makes, the breathy little moans and whimpers he lets out while he thrashes about in pleasure, are just too hard to resist.
At first Dean did nothing but remain stock still in bed next to Sam, a little shocked at being woken by his brother panting and moaning into his neck, skinny hips rocking to unknowingly rub his cock against Dean’s thigh until he was coming, wet warmth seeping through two or three layers of cotton, slick and sticky over both of their skin. The next couple of weeks he found himself less shocked and more turned on, until he’s got to this stage. Now he goes to bed on edge every night, the low thrum of arousal singing in his blood at the thought of being able to watch Sammy in a way he can’t allow himself in the light of day. Tonight is different, though, despite how much he hates himself for even thinking about it, Dean will finally get to touch as well as look. He came close last night, and several nights before that, somehow managing to keep his hands to himself, but he knows he’s fighting a losing battle and he just can’t wait any longer. Nobody will ever know, Dad’s on a hunt and Sam’s dead to the world, it’s just Dean and his conscience, and honestly by this point he’s resigned to the fact he’s going to Hell, someday, anyway.
“Sammy?” he rasps, barely above a whisper even though he knows the kid is out of it. He waits a few beats before saying his brother’s name again, his heart beating quicker in nervous excitement when there’s no response. As carefully as he can he pushes the covers off his own body, leaving them draped over Sam’s waist for now, in his final battle against himself. He sits up and shuffles down the bed so his ass is level with Sam’s knees, watching for a few moments to make sure the movement hasn't woken the younger boy. There's a slight hitch in Sam's breath as his hips shift under the covers, body seeking friction that’s not there, and the thought that tonight he can provide it with something more than his hip or thigh makes Dean's cock throb. His hand shakes when he reaches out to lift the covers away from Sam, letting the sheet bunch up between them as he drinks in the sight.
There’s enough light coming from the lamp on Sam’s side of the bed to cast a glow over his features without being bright enough to wake him, and Dean’s incredibly grateful for it. He doesn’t want some fumble in the dark, he can get that from the girls at school, Sammy is special and more precious than anything else. The boy’s lying on his right side, face half buried into the pillow and there’s already a fine sheen of sweat breaking out at Sammy’s hairline and above his top lip. His eyes are moving rapidly under the lids, long eyelashes fanned out over his cheekbones above flushed, baby smooth skin. Dean’s eyes linger on his brother’s mouth, so soft and luscious looking, candy pink lips open slightly and the older boy can’t help but wonder how his cock would look smearing pre-come over them before slipping between them into the hot cavern he’s seen so many popsicles and lollipops go into. He lets out a frustrated moan at the thought of it, his dick throbbing more insistently, totally on board with the idea, but that’s not for tonight.
He sweeps his eyes over Sam’s lock, inviting neck and down to his chest where he watches the rise and fall of it as the kid’s breathing is coming faster. The ratty old t-shirt Sam wore to bed has risen up, showing his belly, still rounded with the last vestiges of puppy fat over forming muscles, then down to the tented cotton of his boxers, thin fabric stretching over his hard cock, obviously smaller than Dean’s and God he desperately wants to see what Sammy’s packing these days. It makes his mouth water just thinking about how much he could fit in, whether he’d be able to choke on it, yet, or whether he’d have to wait a year or two for that.
Movement in the corner of his eye draws his attention to Sam’s hand, twitching on the pillow next to his head, and Dean marvels at the size of it. Sure, the kid’s had another growth spurt and he’s all out of proportion at times, but it’s a big hand and again the older boy’s eyes flick to Sammy’s dick, the image of those long, elegant fingers wrapped it, or better still around both of their cocks at once has a moan falling from his lips. With a surge of panic Dean’s eyes flick back up to his brother’s face but there’s no change, he’s still sound asleep. Letting out a sigh of relief he gets back to the task of looking at Sam’s body, he’s done teasing himself any longer.
Another rock of slim hips and Dean’s gaze trail down to Sam’s long legs, skinny but lean, creamy, untouched skin half in shadows. As if his brother’s thoughts are in sync with his even in sleep, Sam’s left leg shifts, exposing more tantalizing skin between his thighs and Dean wants to lean in and nuzzle, to feel the heat and breathe in Sam’s smell. He licks his lips, almost able to imagine young boy sweetness, fresh sweat saltiness combined with the heady scent of emerging hormones that seems to be oozing from his brother’s pore more and more every day. His cock twitches at the thought and he feels the wet heat of his damp boxers clinging to the head of it where he’s leaking. The ache is almost unbearable and he cups himself through the cotton, fingers squeezing and stroking gently to try and relieve some of the pressure.
A soft moan echoes in the room and he’s not sure which of them made the sound because Sam’s hips twitch again, boxers dragging over his cock and pulling tight where the too baggy cotton is trapped under his thigh. Even in half darkness Dean can see the outline of his brother’s dick, the head becoming more visible as the damp spot on the cotton sticks to it, acting like a flashing neon sign saying look at me, not that Dean can look anywhere but Sam these days. His own breath hitches as Sam’s becomes more ragged, his stomach muscles clenching as he rocks a little faster. The movement makes his boxers slip down to reveal the soft V of a skinny hip and Dean can’t stop himself reaching out, gently resting his hand on it, fingertips lightly gripping as his thumb strokes the soft skin over the bone and inches towards his belly. His hand looks huge on Sam’s smaller frame, and this time the moan is definitely Dean’s. A groan from Sam draws his eyes back up, a small frown creasing the kid’s forehead, cheeks a little more flushed and his throat becoming slick with sweat as he half rolls onto his back before turning back to his original position. It won’t be long before he starts properly moaning and thrashing, Dean knows, so he has to move things along.
A ragged breath from Sam sounds like Heaven to Dean, his brother’s mouth open a little more, now, choked little sounds coming from his throat and his whole body starts to tense a little, long fingers twitching on the pillow. Slipping his hand down from Sam’s hip Dean hooks his fingers around the waistband of the kid’s boxers pulling them down to mid thigh, tugging a little harder that he’d like to, but he times it just right when Sam rolls a little, allowing him to free them from underneath his other side so that the kid’s cock springs free with a wet thud against his lower belly. Dean freezes, heart hammering in his chest in fear that Sam will wake, but all he does is breathe a little heavier and faster, skinny arm reaching out to where his brother would normally lie, his fingers gripping the sheet instead of Dean’s t-shirt. If the older boy has foregone the piece of fabric on more than a few occasions just to feel the heat of Sam's hand on his chest, then that's his business, and so is running one hand over the scratch marks made by blunt nails as he wraps his hand around his cock, getting himself off quickly while Sam’s cleaning up and none the wiser.
Dean lets out the breath he was holding and trails his fingers up the back of Sam’s thigh before running them up and over the curve of his ass, giving it a slight squeeze. The skin is warm and soft under his hand, the muscle both supple then firm as the boy shifts his hips, clenching slightly with the effort, and Dean’s mind immediately supplies him with the image of cupping both of those cheeks in his hands while he guides Sam’s small frame up and down on his cock, “Fuck!” he rasps as new wave of heat sweeps through his body at the thought. Until that moment he’s never actually thought about fucking Sam, he’s probably too young to know that's something guys do, his body too fragile for Dean to consider, but now it’s there he can’t breathe he’s so turned on by the picture they’d paint, that now it’s all he can think about. Soon, he hears in the back of his mind, very soon.
He looks between both of his hands, one wrapped around his cock through his boxers, the other still covering Sam’s pert ass, jumping slightly when his brother moves, one leg shifting higher, parting his cheeks enough to draw Dean’s eyes to the shadowy crevice. Heart beating even faster he lets go of his dick and slips his hand under Sam’s knee and lifts it a little more, eyes flicking to Sam’s face to make sure yet again he’s still out of it before pushing up as far as he dares. Carefully he cups both cheeks and spreads the small globes apart, his breath catching when it’s enough to give him a glimpse of the tight virgin hole between them. He can’t help brushing his thumb over it, which is a mistake because as soon as he does he knows it’s not enough, he needs to know what it would be like to push something inside, right now. He pulls his hands back immediately, feeling a little sick with himself at the thought, but at the same time his cock throbs and his shorts are sopping wet where he’s leaking even more.
Time seems to stand still as he gives himself another couple of strokes, his still shaky hand hovering above Sam’s thigh, watching the play of muscles as the boy’s rocking becomes more urgent and he knows he’s losing his chance, it’s now or never. It should be never his head screams that but his body screams now, instead. Leaning forward he slides his hand under the pillow for the tube of lube he stashed there earlier, though just watching and listening to his baby brother has had him leaking so much he's barely used any of the artificial slick in weeks, but now he’s glad it’s a habit he kept up.
His hands shake more as he squeezes some onto his fingers, rubbing it around to warm it before he shuffles closer to his brother, carefully parting his cheeks again. With an impatient sigh he reaches over to the lamp, the angle awkward because he’s twisting to use his left hand, but he manages to pull it closer to the edge of the nightstand enough to cast more light over Sam’s lower half without it falling off. Another look up shows his brother’s face is even more red and sweaty, clumps of hair starting to stick to his forehead and the collar of his baggy t-shirt damp. He’s close, Dean thinks, swallowing hard and strokes his middle finger over Sam’s hole. The skin is hot and as he rubs a circle around the rim he feels the contrast between wrinkled and smooth skin. His own breath is as ragged as Sam’s as he puts his left hand on the boy’s cheek to keep him spread open and applies a little pressure to the rim, spreading the lube around a little more, knowing in the back of his mind he can’t use too much or Sam will notice it, but he also doesn't want to hurt his brother so he rubs as much on as he can.
A small noise that could be pain or pleasure falls from Sam’s lips as the tip of his brother’s finger breaches him as far as the first knuckle. Dean lets out a whimper of his own at the feel of the flesh giving, the heat and tightness that surrounds the digit. He freezes in place, almost certain the boy will wake, but all he does is jerk his hips and let out more of those beautiful, breathy sounds. Carefully Dean pushes in a little deeper, marvelling at how smooth and hot Sam’s insides are, and suddenly he wonders what shade of pink his brother’s little hole would be after having thick fingers working it open enough for him to look inside. His own hips jerk forward at the next thought as he slowly draws his finger back out and in again in a slow corkscrew motion, wondering how puffy and red the rim would be after his cock had worked Sam open. He can feel his balls aching at that, knowing his own orgasm is close as he carefully pumps his finger in and out of Sam’s body in time with the movement of the kid’s hips. It feels like Sam’s ass is made to take him, even in his sleep he’s tipping his hips back to get his brother in deeper, his muscles fluttering around the intrusion and sucking him in.
From the desperate whines and harsh pants Sam’s making, the way he’s thrashing and scrambling at the sheets Dean knows his brother is about to blow his load very soon. Since he’s already so far down the path to the special kind of Hell, now, Dean goes for broke, reaching up with his free hand to cup Sam’s full balls, stroking over the nearly hairless skin, and up his dripping shaft, wet and slick from all the pre-come he’s leaked. He takes as firm of a grip as he dares, two of his fingertips able to tuck under his thumb where it wraps around Sam’s cock. The hard flesh is big enough to sit in his palm but not overstretch his fingers, and his breath catches again at how fucking hot it is. Sam’s gonna be big all over by the looks of it, just like Dean, and an odd sense of pride washes over him, Good boy, Sammy, he thinks.
He does his best to coordinate the movement of both hands, gently rubbing his thumb over the head of Sam’s scorching hot cock and careful not to let his finger go too deep or too fast into his brother’s ass because the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt him. Within seconds Sam’s hip buck wildly, his ass goes vice tight around his Dean’s finger and a low but unmistakable moan-sob of his brother’s name falls from his lips as the kid's slim cock shoots the first jet of come up onto his belly and chest.
Dean thinks he might have had a heart attack from the shock of hearing his own name if he hadn’t been too busy coming hard all over himself, pumping hard and wet into his boxers without a hand back on his own cock. He’s aware that a surprised noise and choked moan makes its way from his throat and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to stifle it as much as he can. He forces his eyes open to watch as the last dribbles of thin, pre-teen come slide down Sam’s cock and balls, soaking Dean’s fingers, palm and wrist, and the older boy can only stare in awe at the amount of it. It’s getting thicker every week, still not like his own but it won’t be long, and it looks like little Sammy didn’t get any alone time today judging by how much there is. A thrill runs through him at that, the fact that he’s been the one to help Sammy get such a load out makes him somehow proud, as well.
When Sam makes an uncomfortable noise and a new crease starts to form on his forehead signalling he’s feeling uncomfortable and starting to wake, Dean jumps into action, letting go of Sam’s cock like it’s burned him and as gently and as quickly as he can, slides his finger from the kid’s ass. He scrambles to pull Sam’s boxers up as much as he's able to, which in his uncoordinated state isn’t much. He quickly pulls Sam’s t-shirt down over his crotch and hopes the kid will just think he wriggled out of his shorts. When he hears the telltale of Sam’s breathing change again to indicate he’s semi-conscious, Dean throws himself belly down on the bed, wincing a little at the drag over his sensitive cock and the way his weight pushes his own load into his skin. He turns his head away from his brother and holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable, Sam being awake enough to recognise what’s happened and shuffle out of bed to clean himself up.
The older boy only lets out a breath only after he hears the bathroom door close. His heart races, adrenaline coursing through his veins at the thrill of almost being caught, at how good it was to finally touch Sam, as well as his own orgasm. He knows that tomorrow, when he wakes up with Sam cuddled up to him like a spider monkey clinging its mama, he'll feel guilty… but now he's had a taste, he also knows it will happen again.
Sam grips the edge of the sink, gulping down air as his whole body still trembles with the aftershocks of his orgasm. This dream was the most intense yet, it almost felt real, like Dean was actually stroking his cock and filling his ass in a way that Sam can only long for. He knows he’s sick, that something inside him is broken for wanting his brother the way he does, but when the dreams come he’s free to picture everything his young mind can imagine. Having heard filthy details directly from those sinful lips as Dean has whispered about his dates right into Sam’s ear, and he’s no doubt seen more porn than anyone else in his class, the youngest Winchester can imagine a lot. The possibilities are endless and he’s been jerking off to all kinds of scenarios for weeks, now, in the shower, in rest stop bathrooms, anywhere he needs to so he’s not constantly hard for his brother. There’s no way he’ll be able to hide the tent in his jeans at the merest hint of his brother's cheap cologne or the heat of his body only inches away for much longer. Eventually Dean will notice, then eventually Dean will hate him.
With a sigh he quickly slips off his soggy boxers, scrunches them up and wipes himself down. He must have come a lot more this time because up until tonight it’s nearly all been absorbed into the cotton of his shorts, but now he can feel the slick all under his balls, and unusually, between his cheeks. As he finishes the clean up job with a washcloth and dries himself off, he feels what he knows must be a phantom ache in his ass, like Dean had actually been inside him the way he’s imagined and hoped for countless times. Pulling on the clean pair of boxers he stashed in the cupboard under the sink earlier for this very scenario, he knows Dean wanting him like that is wishful thinking, there’s no way his brother would ever touch him, even though Sam would happily give Dean whatever he wants, but still a boy can dream.
.
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Weecest)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my filthy thoughts
Warnings/kinks/enticements: Underage (possibly extreme, Sam is 12), sibling incest, somnophilia, non-con, first time, wet dreams.
Summary: After lying next to Sam for what feels like days, it’s finally time. As soon as his baby brother’s breathing changes to signal the start of the dreams the kid’s been having the past few weeks, Dean’s cock is rock hard in a matter of seconds. He knows it’s all kinds of fucked up to be turned on by Sam having wet dreams, but he’s only human, a teenager with raging hormones of his own and the beautiful sounds Sam makes, the breathy little moans and whimpers he lets out while he thrashes about in pleasure, are just too hard to resist. Nobody will ever know, Dad’s on a hunt and Sam’s dead to the world, it’s just Dean and his conscience, and honestly by this point he’s resigned to the fact he’s going to Hell, someday, anyway.
A/N: Inspired by this GIF of Colin Ford, who gives us perfect Weecest fodder as young Sam. Although I cannot be 100% certain, my research puts Colin around the same age as Sam in the fic, he kinda looked 12 for about 4 years so sometimes it's hard to tell with him! Don't click if you're in any way uncomfortable with that.
After lying next to Sam for what feels like days, it’s finally time. As soon as his baby brother’s breathing changes to signal the start of the dreams the kid’s been having the past few weeks, Dean’s cock is rock hard in a matter of seconds. He knows it’s all kinds of fucked up to be turned on by Sam having wet dreams, but he’s only human, a teenager with raging hormones of his own and the beautiful sounds Sam makes, the breathy little moans and whimpers he lets out while he thrashes about in pleasure, are just too hard to resist.
At first Dean did nothing but remain stock still in bed next to Sam, a little shocked at being woken by his brother panting and moaning into his neck, skinny hips rocking to unknowingly rub his cock against Dean’s thigh until he was coming, wet warmth seeping through two or three layers of cotton, slick and sticky over both of their skin. The next couple of weeks he found himself less shocked and more turned on, until he’s got to this stage. Now he goes to bed on edge every night, the low thrum of arousal singing in his blood at the thought of being able to watch Sammy in a way he can’t allow himself in the light of day. Tonight is different, though, despite how much he hates himself for even thinking about it, Dean will finally get to touch as well as look. He came close last night, and several nights before that, somehow managing to keep his hands to himself, but he knows he’s fighting a losing battle and he just can’t wait any longer. Nobody will ever know, Dad’s on a hunt and Sam’s dead to the world, it’s just Dean and his conscience, and honestly by this point he’s resigned to the fact he’s going to Hell, someday, anyway.
“Sammy?” he rasps, barely above a whisper even though he knows the kid is out of it. He waits a few beats before saying his brother’s name again, his heart beating quicker in nervous excitement when there’s no response. As carefully as he can he pushes the covers off his own body, leaving them draped over Sam’s waist for now, in his final battle against himself. He sits up and shuffles down the bed so his ass is level with Sam’s knees, watching for a few moments to make sure the movement hasn't woken the younger boy. There's a slight hitch in Sam's breath as his hips shift under the covers, body seeking friction that’s not there, and the thought that tonight he can provide it with something more than his hip or thigh makes Dean's cock throb. His hand shakes when he reaches out to lift the covers away from Sam, letting the sheet bunch up between them as he drinks in the sight.
There’s enough light coming from the lamp on Sam’s side of the bed to cast a glow over his features without being bright enough to wake him, and Dean’s incredibly grateful for it. He doesn’t want some fumble in the dark, he can get that from the girls at school, Sammy is special and more precious than anything else. The boy’s lying on his right side, face half buried into the pillow and there’s already a fine sheen of sweat breaking out at Sammy’s hairline and above his top lip. His eyes are moving rapidly under the lids, long eyelashes fanned out over his cheekbones above flushed, baby smooth skin. Dean’s eyes linger on his brother’s mouth, so soft and luscious looking, candy pink lips open slightly and the older boy can’t help but wonder how his cock would look smearing pre-come over them before slipping between them into the hot cavern he’s seen so many popsicles and lollipops go into. He lets out a frustrated moan at the thought of it, his dick throbbing more insistently, totally on board with the idea, but that’s not for tonight.
He sweeps his eyes over Sam’s lock, inviting neck and down to his chest where he watches the rise and fall of it as the kid’s breathing is coming faster. The ratty old t-shirt Sam wore to bed has risen up, showing his belly, still rounded with the last vestiges of puppy fat over forming muscles, then down to the tented cotton of his boxers, thin fabric stretching over his hard cock, obviously smaller than Dean’s and God he desperately wants to see what Sammy’s packing these days. It makes his mouth water just thinking about how much he could fit in, whether he’d be able to choke on it, yet, or whether he’d have to wait a year or two for that.
Movement in the corner of his eye draws his attention to Sam’s hand, twitching on the pillow next to his head, and Dean marvels at the size of it. Sure, the kid’s had another growth spurt and he’s all out of proportion at times, but it’s a big hand and again the older boy’s eyes flick to Sammy’s dick, the image of those long, elegant fingers wrapped it, or better still around both of their cocks at once has a moan falling from his lips. With a surge of panic Dean’s eyes flick back up to his brother’s face but there’s no change, he’s still sound asleep. Letting out a sigh of relief he gets back to the task of looking at Sam’s body, he’s done teasing himself any longer.
Another rock of slim hips and Dean’s gaze trail down to Sam’s long legs, skinny but lean, creamy, untouched skin half in shadows. As if his brother’s thoughts are in sync with his even in sleep, Sam’s left leg shifts, exposing more tantalizing skin between his thighs and Dean wants to lean in and nuzzle, to feel the heat and breathe in Sam’s smell. He licks his lips, almost able to imagine young boy sweetness, fresh sweat saltiness combined with the heady scent of emerging hormones that seems to be oozing from his brother’s pore more and more every day. His cock twitches at the thought and he feels the wet heat of his damp boxers clinging to the head of it where he’s leaking. The ache is almost unbearable and he cups himself through the cotton, fingers squeezing and stroking gently to try and relieve some of the pressure.
A soft moan echoes in the room and he’s not sure which of them made the sound because Sam’s hips twitch again, boxers dragging over his cock and pulling tight where the too baggy cotton is trapped under his thigh. Even in half darkness Dean can see the outline of his brother’s dick, the head becoming more visible as the damp spot on the cotton sticks to it, acting like a flashing neon sign saying look at me, not that Dean can look anywhere but Sam these days. His own breath hitches as Sam’s becomes more ragged, his stomach muscles clenching as he rocks a little faster. The movement makes his boxers slip down to reveal the soft V of a skinny hip and Dean can’t stop himself reaching out, gently resting his hand on it, fingertips lightly gripping as his thumb strokes the soft skin over the bone and inches towards his belly. His hand looks huge on Sam’s smaller frame, and this time the moan is definitely Dean’s. A groan from Sam draws his eyes back up, a small frown creasing the kid’s forehead, cheeks a little more flushed and his throat becoming slick with sweat as he half rolls onto his back before turning back to his original position. It won’t be long before he starts properly moaning and thrashing, Dean knows, so he has to move things along.
A ragged breath from Sam sounds like Heaven to Dean, his brother’s mouth open a little more, now, choked little sounds coming from his throat and his whole body starts to tense a little, long fingers twitching on the pillow. Slipping his hand down from Sam’s hip Dean hooks his fingers around the waistband of the kid’s boxers pulling them down to mid thigh, tugging a little harder that he’d like to, but he times it just right when Sam rolls a little, allowing him to free them from underneath his other side so that the kid’s cock springs free with a wet thud against his lower belly. Dean freezes, heart hammering in his chest in fear that Sam will wake, but all he does is breathe a little heavier and faster, skinny arm reaching out to where his brother would normally lie, his fingers gripping the sheet instead of Dean’s t-shirt. If the older boy has foregone the piece of fabric on more than a few occasions just to feel the heat of Sam's hand on his chest, then that's his business, and so is running one hand over the scratch marks made by blunt nails as he wraps his hand around his cock, getting himself off quickly while Sam’s cleaning up and none the wiser.
Dean lets out the breath he was holding and trails his fingers up the back of Sam’s thigh before running them up and over the curve of his ass, giving it a slight squeeze. The skin is warm and soft under his hand, the muscle both supple then firm as the boy shifts his hips, clenching slightly with the effort, and Dean’s mind immediately supplies him with the image of cupping both of those cheeks in his hands while he guides Sam’s small frame up and down on his cock, “Fuck!” he rasps as new wave of heat sweeps through his body at the thought. Until that moment he’s never actually thought about fucking Sam, he’s probably too young to know that's something guys do, his body too fragile for Dean to consider, but now it’s there he can’t breathe he’s so turned on by the picture they’d paint, that now it’s all he can think about. Soon, he hears in the back of his mind, very soon.
He looks between both of his hands, one wrapped around his cock through his boxers, the other still covering Sam’s pert ass, jumping slightly when his brother moves, one leg shifting higher, parting his cheeks enough to draw Dean’s eyes to the shadowy crevice. Heart beating even faster he lets go of his dick and slips his hand under Sam’s knee and lifts it a little more, eyes flicking to Sam’s face to make sure yet again he’s still out of it before pushing up as far as he dares. Carefully he cups both cheeks and spreads the small globes apart, his breath catching when it’s enough to give him a glimpse of the tight virgin hole between them. He can’t help brushing his thumb over it, which is a mistake because as soon as he does he knows it’s not enough, he needs to know what it would be like to push something inside, right now. He pulls his hands back immediately, feeling a little sick with himself at the thought, but at the same time his cock throbs and his shorts are sopping wet where he’s leaking even more.
Time seems to stand still as he gives himself another couple of strokes, his still shaky hand hovering above Sam’s thigh, watching the play of muscles as the boy’s rocking becomes more urgent and he knows he’s losing his chance, it’s now or never. It should be never his head screams that but his body screams now, instead. Leaning forward he slides his hand under the pillow for the tube of lube he stashed there earlier, though just watching and listening to his baby brother has had him leaking so much he's barely used any of the artificial slick in weeks, but now he’s glad it’s a habit he kept up.
His hands shake more as he squeezes some onto his fingers, rubbing it around to warm it before he shuffles closer to his brother, carefully parting his cheeks again. With an impatient sigh he reaches over to the lamp, the angle awkward because he’s twisting to use his left hand, but he manages to pull it closer to the edge of the nightstand enough to cast more light over Sam’s lower half without it falling off. Another look up shows his brother’s face is even more red and sweaty, clumps of hair starting to stick to his forehead and the collar of his baggy t-shirt damp. He’s close, Dean thinks, swallowing hard and strokes his middle finger over Sam’s hole. The skin is hot and as he rubs a circle around the rim he feels the contrast between wrinkled and smooth skin. His own breath is as ragged as Sam’s as he puts his left hand on the boy’s cheek to keep him spread open and applies a little pressure to the rim, spreading the lube around a little more, knowing in the back of his mind he can’t use too much or Sam will notice it, but he also doesn't want to hurt his brother so he rubs as much on as he can.
A small noise that could be pain or pleasure falls from Sam’s lips as the tip of his brother’s finger breaches him as far as the first knuckle. Dean lets out a whimper of his own at the feel of the flesh giving, the heat and tightness that surrounds the digit. He freezes in place, almost certain the boy will wake, but all he does is jerk his hips and let out more of those beautiful, breathy sounds. Carefully Dean pushes in a little deeper, marvelling at how smooth and hot Sam’s insides are, and suddenly he wonders what shade of pink his brother’s little hole would be after having thick fingers working it open enough for him to look inside. His own hips jerk forward at the next thought as he slowly draws his finger back out and in again in a slow corkscrew motion, wondering how puffy and red the rim would be after his cock had worked Sam open. He can feel his balls aching at that, knowing his own orgasm is close as he carefully pumps his finger in and out of Sam’s body in time with the movement of the kid’s hips. It feels like Sam’s ass is made to take him, even in his sleep he’s tipping his hips back to get his brother in deeper, his muscles fluttering around the intrusion and sucking him in.
From the desperate whines and harsh pants Sam’s making, the way he’s thrashing and scrambling at the sheets Dean knows his brother is about to blow his load very soon. Since he’s already so far down the path to the special kind of Hell, now, Dean goes for broke, reaching up with his free hand to cup Sam’s full balls, stroking over the nearly hairless skin, and up his dripping shaft, wet and slick from all the pre-come he’s leaked. He takes as firm of a grip as he dares, two of his fingertips able to tuck under his thumb where it wraps around Sam’s cock. The hard flesh is big enough to sit in his palm but not overstretch his fingers, and his breath catches again at how fucking hot it is. Sam’s gonna be big all over by the looks of it, just like Dean, and an odd sense of pride washes over him, Good boy, Sammy, he thinks.
He does his best to coordinate the movement of both hands, gently rubbing his thumb over the head of Sam’s scorching hot cock and careful not to let his finger go too deep or too fast into his brother’s ass because the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt him. Within seconds Sam’s hip buck wildly, his ass goes vice tight around his Dean’s finger and a low but unmistakable moan-sob of his brother’s name falls from his lips as the kid's slim cock shoots the first jet of come up onto his belly and chest.
Dean thinks he might have had a heart attack from the shock of hearing his own name if he hadn’t been too busy coming hard all over himself, pumping hard and wet into his boxers without a hand back on his own cock. He’s aware that a surprised noise and choked moan makes its way from his throat and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to stifle it as much as he can. He forces his eyes open to watch as the last dribbles of thin, pre-teen come slide down Sam’s cock and balls, soaking Dean’s fingers, palm and wrist, and the older boy can only stare in awe at the amount of it. It’s getting thicker every week, still not like his own but it won’t be long, and it looks like little Sammy didn’t get any alone time today judging by how much there is. A thrill runs through him at that, the fact that he’s been the one to help Sammy get such a load out makes him somehow proud, as well.
When Sam makes an uncomfortable noise and a new crease starts to form on his forehead signalling he’s feeling uncomfortable and starting to wake, Dean jumps into action, letting go of Sam’s cock like it’s burned him and as gently and as quickly as he can, slides his finger from the kid’s ass. He scrambles to pull Sam’s boxers up as much as he's able to, which in his uncoordinated state isn’t much. He quickly pulls Sam’s t-shirt down over his crotch and hopes the kid will just think he wriggled out of his shorts. When he hears the telltale of Sam’s breathing change again to indicate he’s semi-conscious, Dean throws himself belly down on the bed, wincing a little at the drag over his sensitive cock and the way his weight pushes his own load into his skin. He turns his head away from his brother and holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable, Sam being awake enough to recognise what’s happened and shuffle out of bed to clean himself up.
The older boy only lets out a breath only after he hears the bathroom door close. His heart races, adrenaline coursing through his veins at the thrill of almost being caught, at how good it was to finally touch Sam, as well as his own orgasm. He knows that tomorrow, when he wakes up with Sam cuddled up to him like a spider monkey clinging its mama, he'll feel guilty… but now he's had a taste, he also knows it will happen again.
§
Sam grips the edge of the sink, gulping down air as his whole body still trembles with the aftershocks of his orgasm. This dream was the most intense yet, it almost felt real, like Dean was actually stroking his cock and filling his ass in a way that Sam can only long for. He knows he’s sick, that something inside him is broken for wanting his brother the way he does, but when the dreams come he’s free to picture everything his young mind can imagine. Having heard filthy details directly from those sinful lips as Dean has whispered about his dates right into Sam’s ear, and he’s no doubt seen more porn than anyone else in his class, the youngest Winchester can imagine a lot. The possibilities are endless and he’s been jerking off to all kinds of scenarios for weeks, now, in the shower, in rest stop bathrooms, anywhere he needs to so he’s not constantly hard for his brother. There’s no way he’ll be able to hide the tent in his jeans at the merest hint of his brother's cheap cologne or the heat of his body only inches away for much longer. Eventually Dean will notice, then eventually Dean will hate him.
With a sigh he quickly slips off his soggy boxers, scrunches them up and wipes himself down. He must have come a lot more this time because up until tonight it’s nearly all been absorbed into the cotton of his shorts, but now he can feel the slick all under his balls, and unusually, between his cheeks. As he finishes the clean up job with a washcloth and dries himself off, he feels what he knows must be a phantom ache in his ass, like Dean had actually been inside him the way he’s imagined and hoped for countless times. Pulling on the clean pair of boxers he stashed in the cupboard under the sink earlier for this very scenario, he knows Dean wanting him like that is wishful thinking, there’s no way his brother would ever touch him, even though Sam would happily give Dean whatever he wants, but still a boy can dream.
.