Author: JuuSan615

Title: Wrong Choices

Pairing: Dean Winchester /Sam Winchester

Rating: nc-17, M

Word count: 4261 words

Summary: Dean always made dirty jokes in front of him. Always provoked him. But this was way too far.

Warnings: Incest, handjob, Sam being miserable, Dean being a teasing bastard.

Author's note: This takes place in the 1st season, episode 13, when Dean kisses Cassie in front of Sam at night. I just couldn't help it, Sam's face was hilarious! Ahh, the jealousy ;)

Please note that while the whole story might be written from Sam's point of view, at a certain point [there's a clear warning ] it switches on first person narration. To get you more into the... you know... mood.

English is not my first language and I don't have a beta, so please bear with any mistake ^^"

WRONG CHOICES

He scoffed.

He was smiling, but he knew his brother would have recognized that he was actually fuming. Only his brother was currently quite busy with the girl he was making out with in front of his own brother to notice that... his very own bother was shamelessly staring like a creep.

Sam swiftly averted his eyes and cleared his throat, as if it could help clearing his mind as well. Or interrupt his brother for the matter. Dean responded by flashing out a hand and showing his index, silently asking his to wait. He averted his eyes, clenching his teeth.

The thing is... he couldn't explain what was happening lately. He had been driving from city to city with Dean for months now, after not seeing him for two years. And he was finding out little things about him every day. Like how, behind the appearance of a rough guy, he always made sure to smell nice. Or how he wouldn't run a single road without Led Zeppelin blaring from his Impala, but would contentedly switch off the player as soon as his little brother's head fell on his shoulder. He was a caring brother, ok.

They had always lived under the same roof in their childhood though, bearing with each other day by day, so Sam wasn't sure if he just hadn't noticed these facts before and they had always been there in front of his eyes, or not. Because he was sure others weren't.

Even as kids, Dean had always been the "naughty" one, pulling pranks or jokes, and sometimes Sam had ended up being the target, but that was all there was to it.

Since the older one had sneaked in his house, months prior, breaking the silence that had lasted so long in the family on Sam's part, he could see something in his behavior that spoke volumes more than "It's been so long, it's nice to see you".

But he just didn't feel ready to acknowledge was that more was about.

And yet Sam was a fucking attentive person, and between the two young men he was quite sure he was the most accurate with details. And it didn't fail him to notice that since the start of their hunt, Dean had been mischievous. At first the younger one hadn't thought much of it, ignoring the other, even playing along sometimes. It was normal, wasn't it? They were brothers. They were guys. They hadn't seen each other for long, and now that they were both grown up it was natural to throw nasty jokes at each other. What was wasn't natural was Dean's attitude. He wasn't just having fun. His little smirks. His longing glare when expecting Sam's come back. He was searching, looking for something in his little brother's reaction. And for once, Sam hoped he was a bit more dense.

Because Dean wasn't just throwing dirty jokes at him. He was provoking him. Drawing him, complimenting him in some kind of contorted twisted way. Luring him. It looked like some kind of animalistic way of flirting, it was sadistic and Sam was sure it was immoral in more than one way.

He acted indifferent, repulsed at his slimy advances, pretending not to know what was going on, but seeing Dean kissing a girl in front of him made everything bob up under a different perspective. He was furious. Offended. Because throughout his indifference facade he had now to admit that he enjoyed every little appreciation the older boy directed at him, and now that he wasn't the receiver anymore he couldn't stand it. He didn't want any other person to be given that kind of look from his brother. That had to be reserved for him only.

But had Dean really started all this? Was all this taking place only in Sam's head? ... Pretty much like everything else? He wasn't really sure. Because Sam was also the most sincere of the two, and he wouldn't deny that... he didn't remember Dean looked this fine years before. He was conscious that the reason why he had perceived all of this was that he was always staring at Dean. Which was also why he hardly ever drove -rather than his brother being a possessive car owner if not a narcissistic bastard who knew how to fucking look hot as hell while holding a wheel.

Cringing at where that train of thought was miserably going to crash, Sam was more than happy to see his brother finally severing his lips from Cassie's.

"You comin' or what?"

Sam's POV

"Wow, that was educative." I said as soon as we were both sitting in the car, hoping to avoid that embarrassing silence that would have surrounded us as Dean started the engine and I was blatantly staring at him, again. And it worked. Only I had forgotten that a conversation on the matter was probably even worse.

He quickly turned to look at me, examining my expression, testing the ground, before moving his attention back on the road. "Need a few lessons, little brother?" he smiled, proud, his lips still glistening from the kiss. I grimaced, feeling slightly territorial. He always showed off when it came to his conquests but this had been the first time he had ever kissed someone in front of me like that. And now I could marvel in the revelation that I didn't like it one bit. And then I remembered I was supposed to answer.

"No dork, I had a girlfriend, remember? I'm quite experienced, thank you for your availability."

"Who said I'm available?"

I flinched. Fuck. I said something I shouldn't. I have to cover it up. "Well I hope you weren't talking about Cassie." I retorted, making an effort to pull an incredulous face, hoping it was enough to hide the conspiracy inside my head. Maybe I had overdone it. Maybe I hadn't said anything wrong. He talked about lessons, not practical lessons. Shit, I was making a fool out myself and I was becoming more obvious by the second.

"What?! Damn Sam. You're a nasty one, aren't you? Dreaming about having sex with a girl who just kissed your brother. That's perverse."

But maybe I wasn't the only one. "Who said sex? I thought we were talking about kissing... always if you weren't actually fucking her in front of me moments ago and I didn't notice." I continued, relaxing in my regained stability.

He pursued his lips and, with a quiet tut-tut, he shook his head. "Nah... you were looking too closely."

Fuck.

My mind was running faster than the car in order to find all the possible to words to deceive him. "Well, I just... couldn't believe you were kissing her right in front of me."

If in every other family such a sentence in my position could have been understandable, I was being betrayed by my blaring jealousy.

As if reading my thoughts, he had the courage to ask "Aww, Sammy, are we jealous?"

I breathed in some needed air, though it wasn't barely enough, and looked outside on my right. I tried with all my might to gather some lucidity and started again with my denial.

"Did it really have to take me a make out session in front of you to get that from out of you?" He spoke with a lower tone of voice, and my "no" got stuck in my throat. I slowly but firmly turned around to face him, ready to laugh it up at the sight of his smile, but he was dead serious.

Only the black car was moving now, both me and Dean were still, unmoving. Even the time had stopped on my part.

My jaw was clenching even tighter than before.

He threw his glare at me for a second, breaking the statue farce, and he looked pissed off. Impatient. I didn't know which answer to give him, so I settled for a question instead.

"What's that." I said, my nervousness erasing any question mark.

He blew out all the oxygen he had trapped inside his lungs, desperation filling his traits. "Are you serious? How long are we going to play this hide and seek, Sam?" He complained, sounding exasperated, stopping the car dead on its track on the side of the road and making me jump forward.

With a feeble voice I barely recognized as my own, I mouthed the words hoping not to regret them.

"You always make the wrong choices."

He was reluctant to look at me. I refused to close my eyes, fearing my throat would close as well. I finished to speak my mind, hoping for the best. "You kissed the wrong person tonight."

He turned then, facing me , giving me the time to catch a glimpse of something blazing in his green irises, before everything blurred up and he closed the distance between us, his lips crushing onto mine in an explosion of repressed feelings. I groaned, surprised, trying to let out the fire that was burning in my lungs, the relief that was bursting in my brain, and the fucking arousal that was almost shaking my body. It was blinding, an aching desire to get everything I had denied myself in the past months. It wasn't like anything I had imagined, because my fantasy had always been restrained by my delusional view of reality. I had never really stopped to imagine what kissing Dean could have been like. And now I knew I couldn't have if I tried.

It wasn't sweet like the kiss I had witnessed before, this was rough. And hungry. It was like fighting, it was like just like how we were everyday, it was just Dean. And I was touching his lips with mine, marking my territory, feeling overwhelmed because he was giving me even more love than a brother deserved, and this transcended our family bond. It violated it, destroyed it, and made it something more. This wasn't being protective, this was high above.

And I had never been this avid before.

He threw his hands in my hair, caressing my scalp and playing with my locks, succeeding in slowing down our path. My own hands climbed his torso, massaged his thick neck, and met each other behind his shoulders, making me close my embrace and the distance between our chests.

Escaping from my shyness, I gave a brief lick at his upper lip, my eyes still closed in the effort of impressing the softness of his mouth in my head. He exhaled, clearly too lightly to empty his lungs, and met my tongue with his, and the next thing I knew I was holding back my voice from moaning into a deeper kiss.

This was intimate, this was wrong, this was so erotic I was silently screaming inside my head. My fingers were sweating, resisting the urgency to run all over his body. My feet were solidly planted on the small carpet, and I needed to change position but my mind wasn't cooperating with my body, too busy keeping it conscious.

Reaching my limit, I let a small whimper escape my lips, into the kiss, Dean's tongue moving inside my mouth, stimulating all the parts of my heated body just like this, playing, teasing. But I couldn't be the only one burning inside my clothes.

Severing my intertwined fingers I pulled my hands on his chest, careful not to break the kiss, and indelicately grabbed the front of his leather jacket, using a few seconds to remember what I was supposed to do with it, before moving the corner towards Dean's arms.

His breath hitched, not expecting the sudden attack, but soon he shook his shoulders, helping me remove the offending garment from his arms. As if moving them suddenly reawakened his body memory, he took the chance to momentarily detach his lips from mine and... master an action that my body welcomed as an assault. He was straddling me. And controlling the situation, my hard-on trapped under his muscled thighs. The bastard.

My hands had gone crazy, feeling his short hair, wrapping around his biceps, squeezing his legs, trying to get him closer than possible. And that, I realized, hadn't been very smart, because his thighs were clenching on my crotch, and my pants had possibly lost a few sizes in the last few minutes.

"Dean"

It wasn't the first time I had said his name that way and he'd never know just how many times I had wanted to. He pressed his waist on mine, allowing me to realize he was just as painfully hard as me. My brain was tickling with ecstasy, and I felt like a 12 year old boy again.

With even more brutality than I had used moments before, he grabbed the front of my jacket, trying to move it over my shoulders before realizing our current position wouldn't allow it, then settling for just opening the garment and impatiently unbutton my shirt. His warm hands started hastily raveling my naked chest and the butterflies in my stomach combusted with the frenzy that it sent to my system. Kissing was becoming too elaborated for my poor still enabled functions and I threw my head back, letting a long moan linger in the restricted space. I bit my bottom lip when his fingers reached my nipples, the hitch in my breath barely covering my whimper.

"Look at me" I heard him whisper, the quiet tone too loud in the little place we were confined in, quiet and yet enough to let me feel the purr in his voice, and I hadn't even noticed I had closed my eyes.

I lifted my head, unable to help the submission that was -I was certain- rolling off my eyes. For once I wasn't objecting. And it would have terrified me if I hadn't been obliged to the pleasure he was offering me.

Not breaking the nerve wrecking eye contact, he moved his hands lower, his fingers now grazing my brown leather belt. I didn't know what he was looking for in my eyes, for the depth in his was confusing my instincts and the fingers sneaking in my pants erasing any kind of resistance, forget insecurity.

Probably reassured by the slight tremble in my breathing and the lack of any refusal, he pulled his fingers out from where they had been crawling, and proceeded to unbuckle my belt. An ungentle tug brought his hands to make contact with my crotch, and I couldn't help raising my waist, my hands flying over his to stop any other movement that could have led to an embarrassing premature situation.

The tingling in my digits and the subtle grunt my brother let out at the autonomous decision of my pelvic area, reminded me that I was possibly supposed to do something myself.

If being touched by Dean led me to that state, the idea of feeling his body in inappropriate ways sure did funny things to my mental sanity. The simple fact that I was now able to see my brother like this was enough to make me lose it, but knowing that I was the cause was absolutely terrific.

As if to instigate any angry reaction out of him, I forcefully gripped his washed out t-shirt, the only thin layer between my skin and his, and immediately grabbed at the sides of his waist, squeezing the muscles there, resulting in his abs visibly twitching, his body sliding forward on my legs and his ass now pressing, creating friction on my cock.

Judging by the disadvantage I had newly put myself in, I was done with taking control of the situation for the night -if I didn't want to come in my pants. Even if sensorially satisfied, Dean didn't look too happy with my sudden take of position. The look of challenge and thirst of control that hissed from his aura made me change my mind, boldness resurrecting in my state of pure excitement. After all, we were still the Winchester brothers.

Trying to block out the entertained smirk that filled his face in fear of losing the new thrill, I adjusted my sitting position, getting more comfortable in my seat, this time voluntarily rubbing my erection up his butt, taking in his satisfying hiss and raising my torso to get closer to him and aggressively biting him in the conjunction between his neck and shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. His mouth was right next to my ear when he groaned in full force and the sound of it was more indelible than my bite mark.

Fucking hell, I had always been right on Dean being prone to this kind of stuff.

As if to counterattack, he slid his waist back, his cock stroking on mine through layers of clothes, making the friction beautifully atrocious for both of us, and with his hands placed on my shoulders, his face was hiding in the crook of my neck, while my throat was unable to hold in my grunting, dominated by the waves of pleasure.

"Ah fuck..."

"Heh... is this how you like it, little brother?"Oh oh, this was going to be a new kink for me. "Maybe I shouldn't have treated you with such regard in the past, you're enjoying this more than I thought..." he finished with a particular accurate thrust, and I was struggling to find the words in the mush of my brain.

"Again" was the only word my southern brain came up with and my mouth was more than happy to deliver it.

"Oh Sammy.." fuck. "How can I hear you when you speak so quietly? Come on, repeat it for me..." He purred with a mock affectionate voice, and grabbing my jaw with his hand, he forced me to meet his eyes again. As if that could help me getting anywhere with my current mental insufficiency. He was mouthing words of encouragement, and I was drowning in each one of them, pre-cum leaking from my tip through my pants. Instead of letting him hear just how desperate I was, I raised my waist again, my fingers running to curl at the back of his neck, making him lose his stability, and his torso arched at the sudden movement, his own hands planting their palms on each of my knees.

I laughed briefly, admitting defeat, when his glorious grin appeared again, and "Not bad, little brother" was all I heard before I was groaning under the pressure of his right hand steadily cupping my trapped erection. Sweet Jesus.

He expertly moved his palm along my shaft, worsening the heating in my pulsating veins, and gave a little squeeze to the head, making me see stars behind my eyes. I had full access to his clothed erection as well now, but my hands were too irrevocably tightening on his shoulders, gripping them as if it depended on my life. And while I wasn't at life risk, my corporal limits were too rapidly making themselves known, stroke after stroke.

"Dean... I'm close..."
Stop? Hurry? Harder? Faster? I didn't know which one I was suggesting with my words, once again in my life I was giving Dean full freedom of choice, full control, and I could get off on that fact alone in that moment.

Reading the desperation in my tone of voice, if not sharing and amplifying it, he quickly stopped his administrations and opened the belt he had been handling only moments before, opening the zip of my jeans, the small pendant sliding down freeing a flock of promises.

I didn't even register his hand inserting itself in my boxers before his palm was making full contact with my foreskin, and the painful heat of my cock reflected in the touch of his fingers wrapping around its shaft.

He didn't lose time with any teasing this time, resolute with making me even more miserable in my ridiculous state of mind, his wrist twisting in magical ways and moving quickly, each stroke bringing me closer to my much needed release.

I was arching my back, my waist following the rhythm of his fastening hand, his grip getting tighter by the second, my mouth chanting pleads and curses on its own accord. Shit, I was so fucking close.

"Dean.. Dean, ahhh..." My mantra was increasing its pace, following us.

"What is it?"
"Dean, Deeeean-ah, I'm... ahh..."
"You like this, don't you"
"Nhhh... ah, yes.."
"You want this" Those weren't even questions, and we were both aware of that. "You've been waiting for this as much as I have."
"Oh, good God, Dean... st- unhhh..."
"You wanted to be in her place." I wanted to be everywhere with my brother in that moment, bed or anywhere else, but I knew what kind of play he was aiming at and this was going down the drain so fast. "Switching places."

I meant to shake my head, but my body mistranslated my mind orders, and just let me face my right side, as if avoiding Dean's words could have saved me from the orgasm that was probably going to kill me at this rate.

"Kissing me... knowing that I wouldn't stop" He was increasing the pace, dragging his hand lusciously along my shaft, getting me off and yet making sure I was still understanding each painful word. " I'd tell her to just wait there... at watch us." And I should have been cuddled up in jealousy and despair, but sweet baby Jesus, that was quite a hot scenery. Dean alone was a hot scenery, to be honest. And my brain was saying goodbye to any inhibition.

To the point where I would even sneer before asking "Heh, would you fuck me in front of her? On your car?"

"Ssshit" My brother suddenly spat, throwing me out of my ecstasy as he continued listing other curses. He undid his belt more rapidly than I thought possible and before I could complain at the loss of friction, our cocks were sliding on each other, his hand smearing pre-cum on both our erections, the pace so perfectly merciless I couldn't help but repeating my brother's name, the only word my mind was providing, and I felt like I was going to break down and cry in the blissfulness of the moment.

Dean. The boy, the man who had raised me, protected me, supported through all my life, the man who I had subconsciously convinced myself I couldn't -didn't want to, even- have, the man who that night had chosen me over a girl he had loved, was giving me all the love in this world and definitely the time of my life. His cock was straining against mine, under his constricting fingers, painfully swollen, and I should have never seen it like that but I was, and fuck if I didn't want it inside of me. Our voices were filling the tiny space around us and his restrained cries of pleasure mixed with occasional dirty words were the most arousing sound that had ever grazed my ears. And his face. God. Dean would have made a good pornstar because fuck, his expression was unworldly. It has lost all kind of aggressiveness and I was left with the vision of pure adoration stained with angry desire.

Then it all was too much. I wasn't given the time to leave any warning before my orgasm hit me so cruelly I was arching my spine and neck, my nails impressing little crescent moons on my brother skin, his name reverberating in the car.

I was still coming down from my high, taking in the last waves of pleasure crashing with spasms in my system, when somewhere along I noticed my brother coming right after me, in a stream of "Fuck", "Sam" and "I love you".

I couldn't quantify the passing of the time after that, it was like living and extra corporal experience, the dryness in my mouth the only sensation reassuring me I hadn't left my body.

"Dean?" I mumbled, slowly opening my eyes that had once again shut on their own.

"Mh" was the late response that came from my left, on the driver side, where my brother had apparently repositioned himself after our little episode.

I slowly turned my head to his, sliding closer to his frame. He opened his eyes, curious at my silence, and swiftly pulled his face as far as possible. "Oh come on Sam, don't tell me you want to cuddle, please. You know I'm not up for that corny girly stuff!" he brawled at me, horror painting his tired face.

"I was going to ask for a tissue, you dork, I have your sperm all over my shirt." I scoffed, my eyebrows rising in a dumbfounded expression.

"Right, right" He turned around, searching through the materials sprawled all over the backseats, while I examined the mess covering my still unbuttoned shirt. I probably should have put a clean one for the night, this had to be cleaned properly. I turned again, ready to grab the box of tissue I had seen him handing me with the corner of my eye, but I was met with warm lips softly pressing onto mine. I closed my eyes in the last few instants, and when I reopened them, Dean was sweetly smiling at me, like he hardly ever did, and giving me the little paper box, he ruffled my hair and caressed my jaw.

" Second round after we get the damn truck."