Title: Two Brothers?

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, and I never will unless I hurt Kirpke. I'm just borrowing Dean and Sam for a little play ;)

Warnings: It's Wincest so don't like, dont read.

Prompt: Gender!Swap for FreekyDisaster18 - I banged on about doing one so here it is.

Notes: My first ever Gender!Swap fic for any fandom, and is under speculation. Please have a read, and review (no flame but positive criticism would be nice).

Dean woke up with a headache, so when he opened his eyes he was blinking about five times at the ceiling. Maneuvering himself out of the bed he glanced over at Sam's bunk. He was still asleep (Dean could make out a still lump in the darkened room) and the urge the throw a pillow at him was minor, so Dean left him alone and wandered slowly to the bathroom. He hopped into the shower and freshened up, feeling a lot better after. It was really only till Dean walked out of the bathroom and got dressed that he figured something was very, very up.

He stared, frowning, assuming that his head had not completely cleared because Sam wasn't Sam. Because of the wrench pull at his gut, he grabbed the colt from beside his bed and pointed it, cocking it.

'Sam?' Dean asked warily, and the figure turned around, Dean's eyebrows rocketing upwards. 'Christo' he muttered, but nothing happened, he just received a weird look. Dean had drunk a fair few of those blue things last night, and it was surely still messing with his head. Maybe Sam was still out and this was just a random chick. But no, something told Dean that he was right with his original summation.

'Dean, what's wrong?' the voice was slightly more effeminate but it definitely had the slant of Sam etched in it.

'What was the first thing you said to me when you were little?' Dean demanded because a part of him was not completely convinced. Of course Sam glowered at him, not getting the whole situation from his position.

'Dean what?'

'First thing you said' Dean said evenly, lowering the gun a bit.

'Dee is the strong one' Sam rolled his-her eyes.

Dean was satisfied with this. That had been the first time Sam had referred to Dean, when Dean lifted the heavy basement doors open in the back of the house.

See the person standing about five feet away from Dean was smaller, slighter, had longer hair, and shapelier than Sam Winchester. Also the wrong gender completely.

The hair was practically the same, longer so it rested on slender shoulders, and the bangs were now a sweeping fringe. Sam's face – in gaining closer inspection – was slimmer with a less defined jaw and the nose was smaller. Pretty much everything was in proportion to a woman's face. The lips were the same Dean noted. Sam looked pretty - which was the weirdest thought he'd ever had.

'Uhm. You might want to look in the mirror' Dean said simply and Sam huffed past him, disappearing into the still slightly steaming bathroom.

Dean waited. Counting in his head, and rolled his eyes when he heard a shout.

'What the hell!' Now he gets it Dean thought, and he swiveled to see Sam appear, face of confusion and thunder. 'Now I understand about the christo, and the questioning' paused, 'Why am I girl?' Sam exclaimed, the voice cracking.

'You tell me. Piss off anything recently, touched anything you shouldn't have?' and Dean smirked, receiving a death glare.

'I don't know' Sam said vehemently, arms crossed over what appeared to be a C cup chest, though it was hard to tell because Sam's shirt was now almost a blanket on the female form.

'Well, Sam, don't get me wrong but that last time I saw you, you were definitely male' Dean reasoned and Sam blew fringe out of his eyes. Dean chuckled, ending up laughing, and earning a scowl from his sibling.

'I would have noticed – don't cha think – if I suddenly grew puppies and shrunk' which didn't really help with Dean's hysterics. He calmed down and tried to think back to the night before.

'I was shootin' pool and you were… where were you?'

'Watching from the side-lines as my older brother drunk his way through Blue Babies'

'Blue what?' and if Sam looked bitchy before, he sure as hell did now.

'Blue Babies. The blue cocktails you seemed to like so much!' and Dean nodded, they were really sweet, but could knock you on your ass after about ten. No wonder he couldn't see well. 'Deeeeaaann' Sam whined, but Dean smirked back at him.

'You know, like that you sound like-'

'If you say the word 'conquests' I'm coming at you. Violently' and the undercurrent of annoyance and frustration and downright confusion in Sam's voice was enough for Dean to subside.

'I was going to say, you sound like Uma Thurman, but y'know' and a pillow was hurled at his head. Dean ducked, and it hit the floor with a thud. 'Alright, okay. Wow uhm' Dean looked at Sam. Dad was going to have a fit. To be honest, looking after female Sam, was most probably the same as looking after the male one. 'Did you talk to anyone weird at all?'

'A few waitresses and a guy at the counter' Sam said, flexing the skinnier and more delicate hands, finally bunching them in the shirt.

'Well Sammy, anything you remember that was strange?' Sam concentrated, and threw hands in the air.

'One of the waitresses muttered something in – well – it could have been Latin, but it also could have been Spanish?'

'Alright, take it easy. We'll go back to the bar then and have a search' and Dean turned to grab his jacket. Sam didn't move.

'I'm not going downstairs'

'What do you suggest, climb out the window?' and Sam scowled. 'For god's sake Sam' he muttered.

'No. C'mon Dean, look at me' he flapped and Dean did just that.

'Not bad for a chick version of you. Quite hot. Now stop moaning and move'

'But I look like a girl who's slept in her boyfriend's clothes' Sam said, pulling at the over-sized denim shirt, and boxer shorts. Not forgetting Sam's boots would be too big for the feet he now had. Sam did have the appearance of a girl who had spent the night with out pjs.

'If I go get you some quick supplies will you come along?'

Sam nodded and Dean looked at the small feet. Size five?

Dean went out, and bought a pair of women's army boots – like their own but far more flexible and more comfortable he assumed – and a leather jacket. If female Sam was going to pass off as Dean's better half then he should look the part. And for now, that was all Dean was getting for him.

Back at the motel, Dean put the bag on the bed and Sam pulled out the jacket and boots. Dean was ordered to turn around, why? He'd seen enough chicks get dressed and undressed for it not to matter anymore. Jeeze. He turned back when Sam coughed and Dean fell silent.

Fuck me, went straight along his conscience. Sam was wearing the denim shirt buttoned up, and because of the size it hung an inch or two above the knee. The army boots stood stark against Sam's tanned skin and shapely legs, and the leather jacket was scrunched up at the cuffs.

'Okay now? I'm wearing boxers underneath. After we go to the bar I'm getting some proper stuff' and Dean nodded. At least they would fit the surroundings of that place. A little bit slutty.

The receptionist gave an inquiring look at Dean and the girl who had appeared over night, but he ignored it. Sam fidgeted the whole car journey to the bar.

'What are ya doin'?' he asked, and Sam crossed the newly acquired long legs.

'It's not that comfortable' Sam crossed his legs, the tanned skin looking smooth and -

'Comin' from you, who always had the problem where your legs were too gangly' Dean pulled the car into the stretch behind the bar and Sam had arms crossed. 'Samantha-'

Smack. To be fair he expected that kind of response, but dang that hurt.

'Sam. Lucky you have unisex name, right? You gotta actually act like a chick'

'I'm not. And I don't like this at all' and the little, rebellious kid Dean had pretty much brought up was back again, only with more bitchiness than ever.

'I can see that, so why don't you put on an act. Like we always do when we're on hunts, and then we'll get this situation sorted and you'll be back to geeky male Sam' he snickered and rolled his eyes at Sam's petulance. He got out of the car and expected Sam to follow him, which he did. Dean wasn't so sure why Sam was so bothered by being in a woman's form; if it'd happened to Dean he would have been having a great time.

From the brief walk from the car to the bar, Sam's head had clearly been working its cogs, because as soon as Dean pushed the door open, Sam tugged on his sleeve. Looking down – which he was still getting used to – Sam's eyes were wide, but there was a mischievous glittering in them. Sam then sauntered up to the bar and lent on the counter. Dean could see the men eying Sam up, and he couldn't blame them really. He had had a fine looking brother, now he had a fine looking sister. Dean walked up to the counter next to Sam, sending a few warning looks to the older leery men along the way. It was less you touch my sister and you die, and more she's with me back off. Sam briefly glanced in his direction, as if the feeling that Dean was now taller and stronger than him was going to get some used to.

'Uhm I'm looking for Terri?' and Dean accepted that it must have been the names of one of the waitresses that Sam had had a chat with last night.

'You know her?' the girl asked, eying Sam cautiously.

'Could say that. Is she in today?'

'Uh, no but if you come back tomorrow she'll be here from five' and Sam's face dropped. Dean knew that it wouldn't be that easy, because if the girl had done this knowingly, she was probably half way across town now.

Outside of the bar Sam twirled on the concrete and let out an angry shout.

'I don't understand. It's not like I offended anyone, I'm not you' Sam accused.

'Thanks Sam, but c'mon dude you must have done something. If she's a witch…'

'I know already. But we were just talking normally, nothing scandalous' Sam muttered rubbing his arms, the wind picking up slightly. 'Right, okay. Well I'm going to head to the store and get some stuff; I'll meet you back at the motel'

'I'll drive you' he offered.

'Just cause I'm a chick now doesn't mean you have to escort me everywhere'

'You've gotten worse. You weren't this bad before'

'It's the hormones' Sam snapped and walked towards the Impala.

Dean had dropped Sam off at the store, and watched him walk through the electronic doors. Only not him - her.

A part of him wanted to wait and pick Sam up, and another part of him just wanted to crash in his bed, wake up, and hope this was just a dream. Well, actually the whole female Sam was helping in a stupid way. Because Dean's little thing for Sam – as in the fully-grown male one – had been subdued. Because seeing Sam – as a chick – just turned off all senses about his younger sibling. It was Dean's very own dirty little secret, and it should really never be voiced. Ever. He had spent too much time with Sam as a kid, and just grew to protect him and knew him better than anyone. Better than Dad, and dare he say it, better than Jess. It was something that eventually he would go to hell for he was sure of it. That was why the sons of bitches they hunted took Sam first. It wasn't because Sam was weaker or not as good a hunter - no. The reason was they knew, that if they took Sam Winchester, Dean would come running. And he always did. Not matter how much training he had, as soon as he saw Sam in danger he flipped. Other people he could be as cool as you like, but if anyone, and that meant anyone, hurt Sam, he would rip them to shreds.

He groaned to himself, and switched the engine into life.

Back at the motel, he was tempted to call Dad and ask, but he knew exactly what would happen. Hell would split in two and Dean would be in trouble. Because Dad would be able to change this somehow so it was Dean's fault. To some extent it probably was, but Sam's got a bigger mouth than he realises and it most likely didn't help him at the bar. After all, it wasn't like he was entirely sober either. What had Sam said that caused this? He looked in Sam's duffle and chuckled, thinking that none of his clothes fit him. It struck him that Sam would ask for his Black Sabbath t-shirt, now that he was smaller. Well no way. Not happening. Although, Dean's jeans might fit him with a belt.

He flicked through some of their books on witches, which Dean had in the trunk of the Impala, and searched for anything about gender or sex spells. He was in the middle of reading about a coven that specialised in the particular part of witchcraft, when the door opened and in walked Sam. Dumping three bags on the bed - one bag being food shopping - and then flopping down to sit on the edge. Dean smirked at Sam, who looked a little bit more feminine than he did when he left.

'Happier now, Miss Congeniality?'

'It's a crime that you even know that reference, Dean'

'Right, I need some food. You comin'?' and Sam scrunched up his nose.

'Are you going to the diner next door?' he asked and Dean nodded, and Sam looked like he was fighting an inner consensus, but got up, dipped into one of the bags and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans.

At the diner, instead of shoving him out the way like he would do normally, Sam tentatively tapped him to indicate he wanted Dean to move over. Rock of Ages by Def Leppard hummed through the speakers, and the waitress toddled over: a girl of about twenty odd with bouncy ginger curls and a nice smile. She looked between Dean and Sam and her eyes lingered on Dean. Dean could tell exactly what she was thinking, and he didn't have to be Mel Gibson. He ordered, and swore that Sam's hand knocked his thigh twice during the meal. That or he really was losing it.

The rest of the day had them reading up on witches, arguing over stupid things, and being in each other's company. So pretty much no different from the usual really. Except when Sam smacked his arm, it hurt like a bitch. Literally. It stung right through his shirt.

'How d'you do that?'

'I'm a girl' and Sam went wide eyed, looking horrified. Dean, wanted to laugh, he really did. But knowing that Sam was actually worried, he didn't.

'You're not, just trapped inside a chick's body'

'Bet you're loving this' Sam countered, eyes doing that slanty I hate you for this, you're going to pay way that they did quite often.

'Good change of scenery, yeah' he said out of habit of winding Sam up.

'That's not what I meant'

'Sam. Look, you're lucky that you've got good Winchester genes. It seems that we look awesome in whatever gender' which was entirely true. Sam was hot.

'You're being rational and logical. I don't like it' Sam grimaced, looking suspicious like when they faced down the shapeshifter.

Dean rolled his eyes 'Sam c'mon I'm trying to act like you would in this situation'. That was supposed to be a compliment, Sam always told him not to jump at ideas and think things through.

'Wow, after all these years I'm finally rubbing off on you' and an image Dean did not want flashed through his mind. Jeeze, Sam had this amazing ability to say things with a pun and not notice sometimes.

'Whatever, man, we'll get this bitch and turn you back in no time. What's it like anyhow?' Dean leered at Sam, earning a kick to the shin. 'Not cool, you abuse me way more now. Was only asking'

'That's because you're being sexist. Objectifying me like this' Sam pouted. Sam did that when he was male, but the effect was different now that his mouth female and shaped a pout rather temptingly.

'C'mon Sam, you're tellin' me that you wouldn't do a once over if I was in this position'

'Dean, you already look more feminine than I do - when I do when I'm a guy that is' Sam smirked, and Dean narrowed his eyes.

'You're lucky you're pretty' Dean deadpanned.

'Aww Dean' Sam pouted, fluttering his eyelashes.

'Knock it off' he growled at him, pushing his legs up onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. 'Maybe I should call Dad' and waited for the rise.

'Dean, no way, I would never here the end of it. Besides, it's not like we need his help' Sam said hotly.

Later on at the other bar, a few streets down. It was slightly more upper class than the one they had been in before. Sam – using charm he used on hunts – got them free drinks. Dean whistled, even he couldn't hustle like that sometimes.

'Not bad Sammy' he said and he received a smirk.

When Dean had asked Sam to shoot some pool with him, he watched the other customers. A small group of men, roughly in their mid-thirties were leering in Sam's direction as he took a shot. Dean almost didn't notice that Sam was winning. Dean had always pushed his protectiveness down four notches, because most of the time he didn't have a good enough excuse. To be protective or jealous, that was pretty much the same thing wasn't it? He got handsy when people were trying to hurt Sam, not when they wanted to get in his pants. What big brother can answer that?

Dean went up to the bar, and ordered a rum and coke, and it was when he heard a crash that he looked for the commotion. One of the men had tripped back over a chair, as Sam had apparently pushed him. Sam relied on using other people's strength against them, and here it worked. Annoyance worked its way up his spine. He darted over, just as one of the other men decided he'd have a try. Now it was just outright anger, and protective adrenaline seeped into his blood stream. He pulled the guy off Sam, who was looking equally as pissed in the fraction of a second he saw his face. Knocking the guy down, and pinning him against the wall, the bar had gone quiet.

'That's my sister. You don't touch her, if she says no, it means no' he growled and the guy – whose eyes where glimmering brightly with booze – looked scared. 'Got it?' he asked the other men, the one on the floor nodded, grumbling about a sore head. Dean glowed inside, thinking that Sam caused the guy to end up on his ass. Nice one Sammy.

Dean let the guy go, and went over to get his rum and coke. Sam took the drink off him, and took a swig with a grin. They got back to their pool game.

The next day, they went back to the bar to look for the waitress named Terri. It wasn't long till Terri emerged from the back room, and took one look at Dean and then Sam, muttered 'I'll be right back' and disappeared. Sam growled - sounding very lioness like and hopped off the stool.

'Oh no you don't' and Dean followed as they went after her, through the kitchens, passed the toilets, out the back and round the side of the bar. They got her trapped, and she fiddled with her apron on her skirt. Sam advanced.

'I'm sorry'

'Doesn't cut it' Sam snapped.

'How do you reverse it?' Dean asked, his jaw set in a hard line.

'I-I d-d-id it for a reason' she stammered.

'Yeah, cause you think it's hilarious to play this kind of joke' Dean sneered, Sam put a hand on each side of the girl's head and Dean raised his eyebrows. Sam could be fuckin' intimidating as a man but he was scary as a chick too.

'Get rid of him, and I'll tell you' she said more boldly, jerking her head to Dean.

'Oh no way sweetheart, I'm not goin' anywhere' Dean bared his teeth. She looked at Sam and Sam turned to Dean.

'Wait for me'

'Sam'

'Anythin' happens, you'll know' and every fibre in his body told him to stay exactly where he was. But if this witch was telling the truth – which was rocky anyway – then he would have to go to get this sorted. He put his hands up in mock surrender, and walked round the front the bar. He couldn't wait to have his Sam back, because for all he's a ladies man, it was the male Sam that Dean wanted. He wasn't Sam otherwise. Dean began to get impatient as there was no noise at all from where Sam and the witch were.

'C'mon Sam, milk the bitch' he whispered and sniggered at his own joke.

Wasn't long after that, that Sam reappeared. Still obviously female.

'What the hell?'

'I got it under control' Sam said evenly.

'You still got boobs and you're still short' Dean exclaimed, his ring clunking against the wood bannister.

'It'll be sorted'

'What's with the mystery, Sam? What did she say?'

'She said that the switch should lift by tonight' Sam said confidently.

'Any reason for this?' Dean asked, as they walked past the shops on the parade.

'She's really sorry. She was only trying to do some good' Sam sounded sorta sympathetic. Dean frowned, still not getting the whole situation.

'No offense, but tell me where in this, is her trying to do some good?' he asked, gesturing at Sam's physique. Sam didn't answer, just jammed his hands into his jacket, keeping his pace in time with Dean's. Dean kept on walking, gaze resting on Sam for moments at a time, thought on how they were more Bonnie and Clyde now.

Later on, Dean sat watching the TV in the room with a beer and he just about caught the end credits of ER when he got a lap full of Sam. Unfortunately, his natural instinct was to put his hands on the more defined hips. Having had many women on his lap, it wasn't exactly a new experience for him.

'Sam, what are you doin'?' he pushed Sam lightly, but he didn't budge.

'Making a point'

'What's that? That you can no longer crush me with the massive weight that you don't have now? Move your ass' but he didn't, and Dean was this close to just standing up and letting Sam drop on the floor. Not that it would hurt.

But he still wasn't that mean. He looked at Sam, and a bit of floppy brown hair brushed his cheek. Stupidly, he looked right in Sam's eyes. He saw determination, and a mask of what he could only describe as lustful hunger, something that should not be there. That freaked the hell out of him. He blinked, and instantly regretted it because Sam pressed his lips to Dean's.

Now, for everyone who knew Dean Winchester, would know that he would do a lot of things to get girls into bed with him, and when you looked like him that wasn't difficult. But this was just wrong on a level Dean wasn't sure was there. But he knew one thing that this was not working.

He pulled away from Sam 'What the hell are you doin'?' he snapped and Sam traced the edge of Dean's jaw with long delicate fingers.

'Want to know what all the girls would happily drop their panties for. It's more obvious now actually' and he ground his hips down, biting his lip. Dean could tell you for a fact that nothing was happening in the down stairs department, not a thing. Any other time – when this wasn't actually Sam – Dean would be seriously concerned why his soldier wasn't standing up for attention.

But he closed his eyes and imagined the weight was heavier, and broader and harder. Yup… that's why. His eyes snapped open, and he tried to shift Sam but Sam was having none of it.

'Say it' and Dean's brow furrowed, in confusion. Had he blanked out and missed something?

'You lost me' he said being as honest as possible.

'Say it. The reason why you won't and can't fuck me' Sam ordered, and that sentence should be outlawed in every state of America.

'Don't know what you're talkin' about Sammy'

'It's Sam. Just say it, cause I'm fed up with this' and Sam sat back on Dean's knees. Did Sam really want to rip him apart, because that looked like the only option?

'Sam' he tried to sound authoritative.

'Stop fighting' Sam held onto Dean's shirt, and Dean hated that this is what it had come to between them.

'I won't fuck you; because you're not him' and he took another breath, slowing down his breathing. 'You're not Sam. I know you are on the inside, believe me I know you are. But on the outside you're a chick. Yeah you're a drop-dead-model-walking one and I'd be proud if you were actually my sister. But you're not my sister. You're my brother, you're my Sam and that's not...' Dean confessed, dreading that this is was some set up. That it wasn't what Sam was aiming for at all, that this was some joke.

'It's not what you want' Sam finished and Dean couldn't look at him. He couldn't look at the bright round eyes that were too soft and too feminine. He didn't expect the lips to be on his again, and so he growled against it.

Then, something very weird changed. The kiss became harder, and so did the body which currently sat atop him. It was broader, and the hands that clutched at his top were stronger and male. Dean's eyes snapped open, once again.

He staring right back at Sam, who was back to normal. All tough muscle and shy smiles, and floppy brown mess of hair that looked like he belonged in a Nickelback video.

'Back to geek-boy' Sam breathed, smiling lopsidedly.

'I don't… what changed?' Dean asked, rubbing circles on his hips.

'Apparently, I had told her about you, and how I felt. I had said about our situation with dad not being there from a young age etc etc. She knew about us - as hunters - but she really wanted to help. I was close to crying, and she thought that she would help by turning me into a chick, so as to show that your womanizing doesn't apply to me'

Dean digested the information. Okay, that kinda made sense.

'And that if she was right, you wouldn't give in to me as a chick. And what do you know?' Sam's lips were achingly close to his own.

'So she wanted you to be a man about it, and by doing so she turned you into a girl?' Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at the sheer weirdness of it. Satanic covens he got, white witches made absolutely no bloody sense to. 'C'mon that's Days of Our Lives material'.

'Seems like it, and yeah it is. Maybe she's a fan' Sam ground his hips down and Dean's body went on to took full notice.

'I can deal with that logic' he said and laced his hand into Sam's hair and pulled him into a kiss.

Review if you like it. I can bake cookies ;)