Warnings: Wincest. Non-con because Sam is forced into a sexual situation. Dub-con for Dean because his mental state is altered due to the spell. This is not romanticized non-con as a lovely individual mentioned.

Notes: This is for my friend WrenClayton. She's got a tumblr and is pretty much the best person ever. Go check her out and see for yourself. Also, I suck at titles. This one is from the song "Baby It's Cold Outside" by Johnny Mercer and Margaret Whiting.

Dean put his mouth near Sam's ear and groaned into it. "Feel good, Sammy. Real good." Then he inhaled deeply. "Fuck, you smell amazing. Bet you taste even better."

That was all the warning he got, then Dean was licking Sam's face like it was the last few precious crumbs of an apple pie.

"Fu-uck! Dean, that's gross! Stop!" He didn't bother trying to wipe the saliva away because Dean's cock was motherfucking hard, throbbing against Sam's hip and it was kind of making his brain short circuit.

Sam whimpered. "Dean…"

"Shh, Sammy. C'mon, let me touch you."

"Y-you're not thinking c-clearly, Dean. Just let me up and we'll call Kevin, figure this out, yeah?" He tried to have a calm, even tone. He was pretty sure he failed.

Dean gave a slow, predatory smile and Sam couldn't suppress a shudder. "Later. Right now I feel like sticking my cock in you. And you'll let me, won't you Sammy?"

Sam choked. Icy fear flooded his body and he grew stiff with dread as Dean brought a finger up to his mouth, traced his lips. "Mm, yeah. You'll like that. The real question is where should I put my dick? 'Cause your mouth Sammy, fuck, it would look so great wrapped around me." Dean was growling again, his voice dropped to a register he wasn't used to hearing.

Sam's traitorous dick twitched excitedly and wasn't that the most fucked up part of this? He couldn't look at Dean in the face anymore. "P-please don't, Dean. This isn't you. It's the s-spell, Dean. You need to fight it."

Dean ignored him in favor of working Sam's pants open. Sam tried to struggle in earnest once more, but Dean's heavy hands froze him in place. "Stop movin', Sam. I don't want to hurt ya, but I will."

And no, that was a lie. There was this gleam in Dean's eyes that made him shiver. Sam gasped as Dean palmed his cock. "Look at you. Wet and begging for it already like a dirty little slut."

"Dean no, please, stop-"

But Dean was already between Sam's legs, smelling, licking, groaning his way to the tip of his hard on. Sam tried to hold back the pathetic whimpering, but couldn't help jerking at the sensation of Dean's tongue violating him. "Gonna taste this nice, thick cock Sammy. Make you scream for me. Then I'm fucking you deep in both your pretty holes."

Sam screamed when his brother's warm, wet mouth swallowed him down.