Just a warning, there's non-con (or dub-con, depending how you look at it) in this and Sam is twelve. Skip if that bothers you. This isn't a very happy one shot, but then again, when is the stuff I write ever happy?
Sam inwardly groaned at the dreaded creaking of his bedroom door as it opened to accommodate the presence of another being submersed in near darkness, the only light in the room consisting of moon lighted slivers pushing through the curtains to cast an eerie glow on the face of what Sam always called his own personal monster, its emerald eyes glittering beneath various shades of silver reflecting like mirrored images off expressive irises. Sinewy muscles flexed beneath tanned skin, movements deceivingly slow and cautious as it inched closer to its destination. Sam turned toward the window and held his breath in anticipation, hating himself for the hard length pressing insistently against the thin material of his underwear. The mattress dipped from the monster's weight before a familiar touch ran along the firm globes of his tight ass, stirring up mixed feelings that confused him.
"Sweetheart? You awake?"
Sam shivered at the whispered words, gasping at the kiss pressed to the side of his neck. "Y-yes."
The monster's palm reached over Sam's body to rub soothing circles around his tiny dick, making him moan confusedly into the starry night. A deep, self-satisfied chuckle vibrated through his back, causing him to recoil in fearful arousal. The arm wrapped around him tightened in response, restricting his movements as the thing in bed with Sam pulled him closer against its hard chest.
"Don't move away from me," it whined. "It hurts so bad, Sammy. I need you so bad."
Sam bit his lip in an effort to keep himself from losing control, but the tears he'd fought so hard to hold back spilled rebelliously down his rosy cheeks. Giving in to his pain, he allowed quiet sobs to slip from his burning throat, conflicting emotions warring within his mind like rabid dogs fighting for scraps.
"Sam?" it asked, turning Sam so that they were lying face to face. "Don't cry, baby. You know I don't like it when you cry."
The monster wiped the salty droplets from Sam's cheeks with the pads of his thumbs before bringing his hand back to its place between the boy's legs, the friction of his movements sending butterfly wings fluttering through Sam's belly. Sam tried to pull away, but instead found himself being pushed gently on his back with the monster on top of him, startling him into submission long enough for it to drop to where it was eye level with Sam's erection.
"So beautiful," it whispered, placing a kiss to the underwear separating its lips from Sam's cock. "I love you so much, honey."
Sam's tear-stained face twitched at the tiny jolt of pleasure that came from being kissed and rubbed into a quivering mess, the monster's hands and mouth spending time in a place they had no business being in. The wrongness of it all served as a constant reminder of why Sam always felt ashamed to show his face at the breakfast table, afraid his father would see the mess its fingers made in his hair the night before, or smell the unmistakable scent of sex on his dirty skin. It certainly didn't help that his body seemed programmed to respond to its talented touches, a fact which made him feel all the more shameful for physically wanting something that his mind did not.
"Please, don't make me do this again," Sam sobbed. "I feel so…dirty."
The monster ignored the plea of the twelve-year-old boy underneath it, ripping his boxers off before attempting to shove its face between his legs. When he struggled, it grabbed at his thighs and held his knees to the mattress, sealing its mouth over his puckered entrance and sucking hard.
Sam's body stopped trying to fight what it knew was a losing battle as he put a hand over his mouth to muffle his loud cry.
"It's not fair!" Sam whined. "Why does it have to feel so good? What do you keep doing to me? I just want you to stop. Please…please, make it stop!"
"I don't think you want to stop, Sammy," it purred, slicking its fingers up with lubricant before sliding three inside Sam's body. "Hmm. Can you feel me, baby? Feel so good, doesn't it? Fuckin' love that shit, don't you? Dirty…nasty…naughty boy."
Sam groaned, the tears spilling down his cheeks long forgotten beneath the onslaught of pleasure attacking his body. He tried to block it all out, but the feeling only grew stronger, sending him higher and higher up a large roller coaster that he was terrified of falling from. Just as he was about to reach the top, the monster pulled off, crawling up the bed until it could gaze deeply into Sam's hazel eyes.
"Spread your legs wider for me, baby boy. I need that sweet little asshole stretched wide."
Sam's protest died on his lips at the dark look he got from the thing above him. Putting his hands under his knees, he reluctantly held himself wide open, hating the excitement coursing through him at the sight of the monster's member being slicked with lubricant. Memories of the last time they'd done this came flooding back before he could stop them, the intensity of his orgasm that night plaguing his mind with unwelcome lust.
The weight of the monster's body pulled Sam from his sinful thoughts, words pouring from its forked tongue just as its dick slid inside him in a slow thrust that drew out Sam's overwhelming pleasure.
"Oooooh. Hmm. There, now doesn't that feel nice? Keep that asshole open. My cock is gonna be workin' some fuckin' magic in there, Sammy."
Sam clenched his eyes shut and let his head fall to the side, whimpering as he held himself open for the monster above him. With every slide in and out of his body, the tension in his stomach built. In and out. In and out. So slow. So nice. So sensual.. A sigh of bliss ripped from his throat, passion pouring off of him in waves.
"You're such a dirty boy," it whispered darkly in Sam's ear. "You bitch and moan about how you don't want this and look at you now, moanin' and groanin' loud enough to wake up your father. I'd be quiet if I was you, Sam. Don't want John to come in here and see his son gettin' all worked up from all the fuckin' he's doin,' do you? Want him to see his little boy drenched in my sweat, with my thick cock up his tight little ass?"
The shame that flooded Sam disappeared just as soon as it had come when the monster's dick began rubbing his prostate mercilessly, its evil chuckle vibrating through his entire body. His lips parted involuntarily when a slippery tongue licked inside his mouth, moaning as the monster surrounding him sucked on his own. The quiet creaking of the bedsprings mingled with the sound of the monster's skin slapping against Sam's, their entwining bodies giving Sam the impression that he was being owned. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. The parts of him that were hidden didn't even belong to him, the cock buried in his ass made sure of that. Every inch of his body belonged to the thing enveloping his very being, ramming him into the mattress with each breath.
"Come with me, baby boy," it moaned. "Come on my wet cock."
Sam's screams were muffled by the palm clamped over his mouth, bucking his hips as he rode the monster's cock to completion. Come warmed the inside of his ass, letting him know the source of his pleasure had reached its own as well.
"I love feeling your asshole spasm from your climax," the monster purred, its voice making him groan with a powerful aftershock. "God, I've missed this. It's been too long, Sammy."
Sam's words came out choppy, shivers wracking him from the stomach down. " Oh, god. My legs are…shaking."
"I know, baby boy. Get to you so good, don't I? You love getting fucked so much. I know you do. Don't you ever deny you're mine." The monster's gaze darkened, jealousy blackening his green eyes. "You are mine, right?"
Sam stared at the thing he used to call his brother, ignoring the quivering of his bottom lip as he tried hard not to cry. As the high from his orgasm faded, leaving nothing behind but the familiar fear and shame tearing his heart into a million pieces, he thought back to the first night Dean had sneaked into his bedroom, proving to his little brother with one touch of his hand that not all monsters were supernatural. If only his father had taught him that very important lesson a long time ago. Maybe then, he would have known better than to fall in love with the boy who thought fucking his little brother every night was a good idea.
Shoving his emotions down where he knew they belonged, Sam cuddled close to Dean the way he knew the boy liked, despising himself for the comfort he always felt in his brother's strong arms. "I'm all yours, De. I love you."
Dean's face softened. "I love you too, Sammy."
No, Sam thought to himself, closing his eyes and letting sleep take him. You don't.