Have some cute, fluffy, sexy Wincest stuffing, with an Unattached Drifter Christm - I mean Valentine's theme to it.
Why? Because the holiday is conducive to both shipping and stuffing, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head, and I thought that it was about time I posted another fetish piece that wasn't a request. Because all of you who watch me for this sort of thing? You're incredible, and I'm grateful to have you reading my work.
Speaking of requests...I should've worked on those...but, like I said I couldn't get this idea out of my head.
Please tell me what you think when you're finished. Just be aware that you were warned about what this fic contains.
Sam realized, later, that he really should have known better.
After all, he was perfectly aware of what'd happened to the Halloween candy, a few years back. He'd left it in the car with Dean, and it'd all been gone within an hour. Leaving his brother groaning hours later, with more pressing, broken seal-related matters resolved, and clutching his slightly-swollen stomach. Sam had rolled his eyes and left him squirming on the bed. That had been during the time that he unconsciously thought of as Before, so he hadn't been able to touch him to soothe his raging stomachache. Before the almost-shy, tentative kisses; Before the touches that could definitely be considered inappropriate if you took into account the fact that they were happening between two adult brothers; Before the first time that they had made rough, hurried love, almost sobbing with the relief of finally acknowledging what they really felt for each other.
But, now, it was most definitely After. Sam had gone to bed with Dean more times than he could count in the last two years or so, been linked to him in a hot, carnal way that made them both groan with pleasure, reaffirmed his love for him. Sex seemed to have straightened out all the kinks in their relationship (pun not intended at all), and everything was sunshine and roses. They were hunting and working together like a well-oiled machine.
And, as well as being a day on which they were researching their latest case, it was also Valentine's Day. The day when you showed the most important person in your life just how much they meant to you. Dean hadn't given any signs of having plans or doing anything - not even going barhopping to pick up women, since Sam had forcibly encouraged monogamy from the very beginning and he'd easily relented. But Sam was a little more conscious of things like this. So, leaving Dean looking up chupacabras on his laptop, Sam headed down to the nearest supermarket with a made-up excuse about going to the library. Yeah, the supermarket. It made him cringe, but living as a hunter meant doing your best with whatever was available.
Roses, he knew before he even walked through the automatic doors, were a bad idea. He could just see the "seriously?" look in Dean's green eyes, hear the skeptical, "Uh...thanks, Sam. Really." A card would, probably, be even worse. And, besides, he wanted something a little more meaningful than a piece of cardstock.
Candy really seemed to be the only way to go. Dean liked sweet stuff (and salty stuff, and sour stuff, and stuff that seemed, to Sam, to be almost tasteless...), as Sam knew from experience. So he'd appreciate the gesture. He bought several heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, including one that was impressively large, and several Valentine's Day-themed candy bars, as well as a few other things. After dropping it all into a tastefully-plain gift bag, he headed back to the motel room, only to find Dean gone on a burger run, according to a note he'd left. Maybe that was better. Less embarrassing for both of them. Sam left the bag on his older brother's side of the bed they were currently sleeping in, placing it tenderly and not bothering to keep a smile off of his face. It wasn't really about the candy, and he was sure that Dean would pick up on that. It was about acknowledging what they had.
When he left again, it actually was for the library, and he pretty much lost himself in research until the sun began to set and an eager-to-close librarian shooed him out. He walked back to their motel, coat zipped against the chill of mid-February in the Nevada desert, and, opening the door, had to silently acknowledge that yeah, he should've known better. He should never have left about four pounds of candy in Dean's unsupervised possession.
Dean was sitting on the bed when Sam came in, propped up against a pile of worn-out pillows and surrounded by a minefield of empty wrappers. His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, his T-shirt was pulled up, and he was miserably rubbing the impressive bulge of his stomach with both hands. He looked up, and shot Sam an accusatory glare.
"If you say anything, Sam, I swear to God..." he threatened, shaking his head.
"I'm not saying anything." Biting his tongue - hard - so that he wouldn't laugh at the state that his brother was in, Sam closed the door behind him, shielding them from anyone who happened to pass by.
"You'd better not," Dean grumbled, adjusting his position slightly and then wincing. "'Cause I blame you for this. We didn't have breakfast, so I had two bacon cheeseburgers and a chocolate malt for lunch, and then I come back and you've left...that." He gestured to the bag sitting next to him, with obvious disdain. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"It's not really my fault that you're a pig," Sam pointed out, allowing himself a tiny, short laugh. He was too amused to get indignant about the fact that Dean was berating him for trying to do something nice. And too, oddly enough, aroused. Just a tiny little bit. There was something nice about that pale, lightly-freckled curve of full belly, in the same way that there was something nice about large, natural breasts, and Dean's ass, which tended to be deliciously rounded with muscle. (And, occasionally, when they hadn't had a strenuous hunt in weeks, something else.) "Did you..." He stepped out of his boots and shrugged off his coat, figuring that he might as well make himself comfortable. "...eat the whole bag?"
"No." Dean seemed offended by the question. As Sam walked around the bed to toss his coat onto his backpack, he watched him, pressing a closed fist to his mouth in order to stifle a quiet burp. "There's still some left. I stopped when my jeans started to get really tight."
"You didn't feel full?" Sam asked, glancing at him and raising an eyebrow. His laptop, either turned off or run dead, still sat open on their room's small table. He closed the screen and moved it to a more appropriate place, but not before he caught sight of Dean's belly again, reflected in the glossy black surface. He felt his cock twitch in his pants, a little bolt of arousal zinging through him. Okay. That probably wasn't normal.
"Well, I definitely do now," Dean replied, patting the apex of his bloated stomach with a grimace and another stifled belch. "Look...Sammy...I know it's Valentine's Day, and that's why you tried to 'death by chocolate' me, but..." He sighed and leaned back, cradling his belly with one hand while he used the other to support himself. There was a very regretful apology in his green eyes. "I don't really think that I'm up to doing much tonight."
Sam could understand that. He could also understand Dean's regret. He'd been told (several times) that he was the best lay he'd ever had, despite being a little more male than his usual preference, so there was the pleasure aspect. He'd also been told (just once) that he was the only one who had ever given Dean something beyond physical satisfaction. Something real and lasting. There was the emotional aspect.
Plus, Sam had given him a gift and he'd probably planned on spreading them or sucking him off in return, which was the moral aspect.
"Wow," he remarked, gently lowering himself down onto the bed after brushing the candy wrappers aside. Despite his care, Dean hissed through clenched teeth, clutching his stomach protectively with both hands. "You must be reallyout of commission if you're not even in the mood."
"I'm in the mood," Dean corrected sullenly. "There's just a little too much in the way. Think I might puke if you rammed your hips into me right now." He must have seen something in Sam's face, because he smirked just a little bit and continued. "Yeah, you 'ram,' Sammy. You're six-four. No avoiding it."
"Can I get you anything?" Sam asked. He was feeling a little guilty. Dean's complete inability to reign in his gluttonous streak wasn't his fault, but once again, he should've known better.
"Nah. Alka-Seltzer and stuff like that's never worked for me, anyway." Dean shrugged. Sam gave him a look that he usually reserved for when he wasn't being allowed to stitch up a wound because it "wasn't that bad."
"There's nothing I can do to make you feel better?" he asked skeptically, widening his eyes a little. Dean sighed.
"I think I'm just gonna have to stay still until I digest a little," he responded. His hands moved across the swell of his chocolate-stuffed belly, fingers and palms massaging tentatively. Sam almost felt like he was watching him jerk off, which made no sense. "And rubbing helps. Sort of."
"All right, so, let me - " Sam reached for Dean's middle with what might have been just a little too much enthusiasm, but his wrist was grabbed and forced back.
"I can do it," Dean said, sounding a little defensive. His stomach was pink where he'd been touching it. Sam found himself liking that.
"Are you embarrassed or something?" Sam asked, a little incredulously. He already knew the answer to his own question. These days, Dean only got snippy with him when he was ashamed of something - like the time that he'd gotten nailed in the groin during a witch hunt, and had limped around with a bruised scrotum for a week, refusing to be seen naked. "That's nuts." He said it intentionally, then regretted it. "Dean, I've had your dick up my - "
"Yeah, I guess I am. A little, I mean," Dean interrupted, letting go of Sam's wrist. He returned that hand to his belly. "How could I not be? I pigged out. You come home - on Valentine's Day - and find me looking like a beached whale. I just don't wanna be touched right now."
Sam thought that over for several seconds, before stating, "So you're not gonna let me rub your belly."
"No," Dean responded immediately, scowling. "Just go to bed or something. We've gotta track down that goddamn chupacabra tomorrow, and I'm gonna be up half the night from the caffeine alone. One of us should be rested."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. But he didn't move from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, right next to Dean's folded legs. He always hated to see Dean squirming in discomfort, whether it was emotional or physical or both. But today...it was Valentine's Day, and his brother had someone who adored every inch of him. It was even worse under the circumstances. There was no way he was going to go to sleep and just leave Dean almost totally alone. Miserable. "Okay. In a minute."
Scooting a little closer to Dean, so that his knee touched Sam's hip, he cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Well, not "pulled;" he did most of the leaning, in order to protect Dean's stomach. It was a little awkward because of their positions. But Sam could never fail to enjoy Dean's full, soft lips, and the pleasure obviously went both ways. He wasn't interrupted until he was finished.
"Aw, c'mon, Sam..." That was Dean's reaction when Sam pulled away. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyes were bright with desire, but he was fidgeting uncomfortably. "Not tonight."
"I won't do anything if it hurts you," Sam pomised. He went back in for another kiss - which Dean allowed with no fuss at all - then drew back with a welcoming smile. "Just...try this with me. Okay?" Waiting for a grudging nod, he swiped his tongue over his lips, then laughed softly. "You taste like chocolate."
"Really." Dean settled back against his pillows, an unimpressed look dropping down onto his face. "Can't imagine why." He shifted his hips with a groan. "You realize that this isn't gonna work, right?"
"Then at least let me see if I can get you to sleep," Sam countered. He swung his legs up onto the mattress after brushing more wrappers out of the way, and knelt in front of Dean, thighs spread. This time, when he reached for his belly, he was allowed to touch. Th skin was almost taut under his large hands, warm and firm and smooth besides a thin, neat trail of dark blonde hair running down into his boxers. Dean didn't have a lot of scars on his stomach. Sam was grateful for that. "After all, this is kind of my fault."
"'Kind of?'" Dean repeated skeptically, but when Sam started to rub his stomach, he groaned again. This one was much different from the first, relaxed and contented. "Okay. Fine...I guess you can do that. Just don't..." He reached up to scrub at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Push too hard."
"Don't worry. I'll take good care of your belly." Sam was fascinated - he couldn't help it. Dean's stomach was so perfectly round, the curve of it so wonderfully soft. He was so full, and Sam had inadvertently done that. He had, after all, given him the chocolate that he'd so willingly gorged himself on, until his pants were too tight. He hadn't stopped because he was too full; his pants had just started cutting into him.
Sam started off rubbing and kneading and pressing, smiling to himself whenever he coaxed a burp or a hiccup out of his brother. But Dean's swollen belly was too attractive. Before he could think about what he was doing, his mouth was pressed to it in a tender, worshipful kiss.
Dean stirred. "What the...what're you doing?" Sam raised his head.
"Nothing," he said with a shrug. Dean stared at him.
"That," he said after a few moments, grabbing the side of Sam's jaw and guiding his head up and away from his stomach, "is not a good place for kissing."
"How come you're being so weird about being full?" He hadn't removed his hands. Sam started back up with the belly rub, and was extremely gratified when Dean's eyes slipped into a half-closed position. He looked incredibly comfortable.
"I'm not the one kissing it," Dean pointed out, unfolding his legs and spreading them on either side of Sam. "What's wrong with you? D'you...I don't know...like it or something? Me looking like I'm pregnant because I ate too much?"
Yes. Ohhh, yes. "No. I just want you to stop being self-conscious about it. I mean...be honest." Sam kissed his stomach again, just a peck, and felt Dean tense. "If I weren't here, you'd be fine, wouldn't you?"
"Stop that. Bitch." Sam swallowed a reflexive "jerk," then looked up at Dean, who sighed. "If you weren't here," he began, lacing his fingers together behind his head and offering a tight smile, "I'd probably still be stuffing my face. You got some pretty good-tasting things."
"Really." Sam fought a grin. He didn't know why he'd never considered or suggested anything like this before. Dean's two favorite things were sex and food - it made sense to combine them. Especially because Sam himself apparently had a fetish for an overly-full Dean. "Well..." He straightened. Going up onto his knees, he used them to guide Dean's legs underneath himself, then sat, straddling his thighs. "Okay. Let's do that." Giving him a wide-eyed, friendly smile, he poked him in the belly. Dean winced. "I'll look after you."
"I don't - " Dean started uneasily, but Sam cut him off, with a renewal of the belly rub and a very hot, very hungry kiss. He knew exactly what his brother liked, as he should after years together. He knew how to please him. How to brush all of his insecurities away and make him admit what he really wanted. That was how he'd ended up topping for the first time, several months ago.
"Dude. C'mon," Sam complained softly when he broke the kiss. He didn't pull too far away from Dean's mouth, and his voice was quiet and husky. "It's me. I've seen you clawed up, burned, covered in blood, drunk, drugged, delirious, naked, horny...and dead." He really could've done without that last one, and knew that it came through in the way that a little bit of the arousal left his tone. He brought it back with another kiss, and languidly massaged Dean's stomach with one hand. The other was on his shoulder. Steadying him. "'Full to bursting' really isn't all that bad."
Dean pushed him back a little to get a good look at him, eyeing him skeptically. Sam raised both eyebrows - he had nothing to hide beyond his weird obsession with that beautiful, perfect belly, but that would probably become obvious soon. After a few seconds, Dean shook his head and sighed.
"This really doesn't bother you at all, does it?" When Sam grinned, Dean grabbed to fistfuls of his hair and pulled him in for another mouth-to-mouth kiss. After finishing, he had to peck the mole next to Sam's nose before he could let him go. "All right, then, Sammy...to hell with it." He nestled down into the pillows, spread his arms, and offered a grin of his own. "I'll go ahead and eat myself sick, and you can rub and kiss my belly just as much as you want."
He reached for the bag, shifting a little and grunting with the effort, but Sam gently took hold of his hand and guided it back. He shook his head, saying, "No.
"First of all, let's get into a more comfortable position. I don't wanna put your legs to sleep." Sam rocked his hips, feeling how he was digging into Dean's thighs. "Second of all...it's Valentine's Day." He patted his brother's stomach. "So I'm going to feed you."
Dean rolled his eyes and called him a weirdo, but ten minutes later, Sam was propped up by the pillows, Dean's back against his chest. He was rubbing soothingly at his belly with one hand, and tilting the bag in order to peer inside with the other. One small box of chocolate, two candy bars. Dean really hadn't been kidding when he'd said that there was "some" left. Sam fished out the box, broke the little sticker that held it closed, then pulled out the first piece of chocolate that his fingertips touched. He pressed it to Dean's lips, and was delighted when he took it. Almost daintily. He kissed his short hair where it tapered away onto the freckled skin of his neck, slowly kneading his stomach. Warm and round and getting bigger.
Sam did his absolute best to keep Dean from feeling any pain at all, rubbing slowly with the heels of his hands and the tips of his fingers, and kissing his head or neck after every burp or hiccup. He liked those. They were cute. And after awhile, they were the only sounds that Dean made - no whimpers, no groans, no noises of discomfort at all. He settled against him, completely relaxed. Even though Sam's erection had to be pressing against his tailbone, he didn't say anything.
He fed him, of course, just as gently as he was rubbing his stomach. And he didn't talk to him until his mouth with crammed with the last four chocolates in the box. He wasn't sure if he unconsciously did that on purpose, or if it was just a coincidence.
"Dean?" Sam nuzzled against the side of his older brother's neck, both hands cupping his belly. Everything in it made it heavy, thick.
"Mnph." That was Dean's reply, somehow sounding a little annoyed. He swallowed, and Sam heard him lick his lips, drawing off every trace of sweetness before asking, "What?" It was almost a moan.
"I love you." Sam pulled Dean closer, held him tighter, and planted kisses up and down his neck. "I love you so much...and I have no idea at all what I'd do without you. You're too amazing. You're gorgeous, and you're funny, and you're smart...and you're all mine. I'm never gonna be able to get over that.
"Well, it's about time you started appreciating me." Sam could hear a smirk in Dean's voice as he said it, but his hand found his own where it rested on Dean's belly, and knotted their fingers together. He squeezed, the gesture warm and affectionate and somehow perfectly engineered to convey all the deep, gooey things that Dean would never say out loud. "I love you, too, Sammy. I was just planning on ignoring today, to be honest, but...this is pretty damn nice." He slumped a little lower in Sam's embrace, just getting comfortable. "Feels really good, and the fact that it's you just makes it a million times better." His hand was squeezed again, and Dean sighed softly. "We've still go a little left, right? Can't hurt..."
With nothing but a kiss dropped onto Dean's scalp, Sam peeled the foil and paper off of both bars of chocolate. One had nuts in it, the other caramel, and they both disappeared into the half-globe of Dean's overfed stomach. Eventually. Halfway through the second bar, Sam squeezed his belly and whispered that actually, yeah, he did like it. He loved it. Dean guided his hand down into his unbuttoned, unzipped jeans with a purr, to the erection that he confessed to have been harboring since the first time that Sam had kissed him that night. Sam stroked at him, as Dean rocked his hips back and ground against his length, and then Sam was pulling both their jeans and boxers down, and their shirts off, and reaching for the lube that they kept in the top drawer of the nightstand out of necessity -
Sam still played submissive more than dominant when he and Dean had sex. He was younger, after all, and his pride wasn't nearly as rigid as Dean's. But tonight, they both wordlessly agreed that he needed to be on top. Or behind. Whatever. Dean rose onto his knees, groaning with the effort, and spread his thighs, crying out just a little in pure pleasure when Sam cradled his belly and entered him with one fluid roll of his hips. He'd prepped him carefully, not wanting to hurt him. His older brother was used to taking his cock, but that didn't mean that he could just go in dry.
He buried his face in Dean's close-cropped hair, holding him against himself and, slowly, began to thrust. Usually, when they did this, it was rough. They grabbed onto each other hard enough to leave bruises. Dean bit when he got excited enough. Sam bucked up against him with all the strength in his body and screamed. But that was always when neither of them had a stomach painfully full of rich chocolate, so, for the first time, their sex was gentle. Not a bloody, brutal, almost angry wrestling match on top of the bed, or in the back of the Impala. Sam's hips locked to Dean's without a loud slap of skin, so that he wouldn't jostle his belly and make him sick. He closed his eyes when every movement brought the head of him against the hot, wet bud of Dean's prostate, drawing his name out of his older brother in a low, delicious purr. Being inside of Dean had always felt good. Safe and warm and comfortable - like coming home. Now he had the time to really enjoy it as they rocked rhythmically back and forth.
And, of course, Sam paid plenty of attention to Dean's stomach. He was actually more interested in it than he was in even his cock, and Dean seemed perfectly fine with that. He arched the small of his back with a low sound of something that sounded a whole lot like ecstasy, pushing the bulge of his belly into Sam's hands so that he'd rub harder. "So full, Sammy," he panted, spreading his legs a little further. "Feels...oh, god, it feels so good."
A shudder went through Sam at that. He had already known that neither of them would last long, with all the foreplay, but now he wasn't even sure that he could hold out for another few minutes. What had been said wasn't even particularly erotic, when he really thought about it...but still. He liked it. Just as much as he liked touching Dean's stomach. Kissing the soft spot just behind his earlobe, he breathed, "We should do this way more often. It's fantastic. Feed you as much as possible every time we stop somewhere, check into a motel while your belly is still huge - " Running his fingertips over Dean's belly in soft, complicated patterns, Sam's breath caught in his throat as pleasure jolted through him. He hadn't come, not yet, but he wasn't too far away from it. " - make love slow so I don't hurt you - " He could feel his balls tightening. " - when we're done, rub - ah - D-Dean - De - "
Sam felt Dean hit his orgasm seconds after his own had started. He clenched around him, growled his name, and reached down to press Sam's hands even harder into his stomach. Sam obeyed the unspoken command without hesitation. Still thrusting into Dean as come pumped hotly out of him, he dug the heels of his hands into his belly, gasping and closing his eyes. He hadn't known he could eat so much, get so big. It made him eager to test his brother's limits. He shoved that thought of out his mind as his legs shook a little, choosing instead to just focus on everything that was Dean. Slowly, the pleasure ebbed and everything wound down, leaving him exhausted and more satisfied than he'd been in...well, awhile. He couldn't pinpoint the exact period. His brain was just a little too melted by endorphins for that right now.
He fed Dean the rest of the chocolate bar as they lay in bed, tangled around each other, too wiped out to get up and shower but not quite wiped out enough to actually go to sleep. He broke it into squares (getting caramel all over his fingers in the process - which turned out to be okay, since Dean thoroughly lapped and sucked it off later), then popped those into his big brother's mouth between nuzzles and soft kisses. Dean tended to be sort of anti-cuddling, arguing that they were both men and both hunters and needed to get all snuggly like they needed to be possessed, but he seemed perfectly okay with it tonight. Maybe because of the holiday. Maybe because he was just too sated - in every possible way - to protest.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Sam," Dean mumbled, eyes half-lidded and hand buried in Sam's hair in order to stroke and pet. A lazy smile spread across his face when Sam put a hand to his belly and began to rub again.
Sam pushed another square of chocolate and caramel between those perfect lips, and returned the smile.
"Happy Valentine's Day."