Dean stumbled into their shared bedroom, swearing loudly as he tripped over something in the darkness and his body slammed into the wall. He was drunk. He was drunk most nights since they settled in this town four weeks ago, but this was drunker than usual. He felt his way noisily across the floor then flopped face first on his bed, the springs squeaking in protest.
"Sammy," he slurred in a stage whisper loud enough to carry across a parking lot, let alone their tiny bedroom. "Hey, Sammy! Are you awake? Sammy!"
"I am now, Dean. Thanks," Sam whispered back snappishly, at an appropriate whisper volume, before snuggling back into the nest of blankets on his bed. "Shh, you'll wake Dad."
"Nah," Dean laughed loudly, then moderated his volume, the tone of his voice countering the bravado in his words. "I walked past him on my way in and he is dead to the world. He put away at least a fifth of Jack tonight, plus the beers with dinner. He is out. Out. Out. Ouut. Have you ever noticed how weird that word sounds, Sammy? Owwwwt."
"What do you want, Dean?" Dean could hear the bitchface in Sam's voice. "I've got a history test tomorrow. Some of us still give a shit about school."
"My boosr too tight," Dean mumbled into his pillow.
"What? That was gibberish, Dean."
"My boos, my boos," Dean kicked his feet against the mattress until Sam understood.
"Your boots? Well, take them off then." Sam sighed disgustedly and adjusted his lanky frame in his bed. He'd grown six inches between his thirteenth and fourteenth birthdays and his long legs still didn't entirely feel like they belonged to him.
Dean flailed his limbs pathetically and whined, "I can't, Sammy. Help me, please?"
Sam sat up, exasperated at Dean's drunken asshole behavior, but still unable to resist any request his big brother made. "Seriously, Dean? God, you're such a child sometimes. How is it that you're the one of us considered an adult when you can't even undress yourself?"
Sam stomped over to the other bed and tried to undo the laces on Dean's boots. "You're gonna have to turn over so I can do this." Dean groaned in protest so Sam dropped the boot and made to walk away. "I can go back to bed and let you do it yourself," Sam threatened, and Dean grumpily turned onto his back.
Sam wrestled the boots off his brother's feet and dropped them on the floor beside the bed.
"An my jacket. Too hot."
Sighing, Sam rolled Dean a little to help him out of the worn leather jacket that was as much a part of Dean as his skin, leaving him in a snug, black, Metallica t-shirt. Sam checked to see that Dean's eyes were closed then lifted the jacket to his face and inhaled Dean's scent. The musky combination of smells that made up the essence of Dean had always given Sam comfort, but it had recently started causing him some confusing sensations in a part of his body he knew he shouldn't be associating with his older brother.
"Are you smelling my jacket, you little weirdo?"
Sam dropped the coat in his surprise at being caught, and he kicked it to the side as he tried act like he'd meant to do that. One green eye peered at him in amusement, though the other could clearly not stay open.
"Shut up, Dean. You're drunk. All I can smell is the brewery you consumed tonight." Sam knew his comeback was weak but it was incredibly unlikely Dean would remember any of this in the morning. Sam's embarrassment had thankfully killed the erection that had begun in his shorts with the lungful of Dean he got from his brother's jacket, so he stood with his hands on his hips. "Now, are we done here?" he asked indignantly.
"An my jeans. They're pokey."
Sam gulped, not expecting that. Boots and jacket were pretty typical when Dean came home hammered from a party, but he'd never asked Sam to undress him further than that. Sam stared down at Dean's waist where his brother's t-shirt was riding up, revealing a pale, flat expanse of skin just above his belt buckle. Sam's heart was pounding in his chest and his hands trembled as he reached out to remove the belt, then he began unbuttoning the fly on Dean's Levi's.
He'd leaned in close to slide the jeans down Dean's hips when he felt Dean's crotch hit him in the face. Dean was cackling gleefully as he humped his hips up at Sam and taunted, "Dick face. Dick face. Sammy is a dick face."
Sam got a faceful of crotch several times before he reached out blindly to stop his obnoxious brother's obnoxious thrusting and felt something harden beneath his palm.
Jesus! Sam pulled away like his hand was on fire, his pulse racing. That was...He just touched...and it got... He chided himself, Don't think about it, Sam.
He smacked Dean's thigh sharply, trying to cover the shock of arousal that hit low in his belly. "Such a fucking child, Dean," he scolded, though what he'd felt thickening under his hand definitely belonged to a man. "Last chance. Do you want my help or not?"
"Sorrysammy," Dean slurred, still giggling a little.
From what Sam could see of his brother's face reflected in the streetlight through the window, he didn't look sorry at all. Asshole!
Sam took a few quivering breaths before he walked to the safety of the end of the bed and pulled Dean's jeans down from the legs, discarding them on the floor next to Dean's boots. Dean murmured something that sounded contented and smiled briefly before his breathing changed into a light snore. Sam watched his older brother's sleeping face for a moment - God, Dean was gorgeous when he wasn't being the world's biggest buttwipe- before risking a glance back at Dean's crotch. Sam's breath caught in his throat and all the blood in his body rushed to his dick when he saw that Dean was still hard. Sam stood completely still and stared at the bulge in Dean's shorts, shocked into action when he saw it twitch lightly.
Barely daring to breathe, Sam crept forward, his eyes darting back and forth from Dean's sleeping face to the tent in his boxers. Not even believing he was doing it, he reached his hand out to gently outline the shape of Dean's cock with his shaking fingers. He felt the member harden further under his grasp though his older brother gave no indication of waking up. Biting his lip in nervous concentration, Sam stroked along the length with more confidence.
"Mmm, baby, feels good," Dean moaned drowsily.
Sam's eyes flew to Dean's face, but his brother's eyes were closed and he wore a contented smile. Sam then looked nervously to the bedroom door. He cast his eyes around the room, spotted his massive history textbook, grabbed it, and wedged it underneath the door as a makeshift door stop. Not as effective as a lock, but it would buy him time if their dad decided to wake up from his stupour and come check on them. Like that would happen, but Sam wasn't taking chances.
Privacy ensured, Sam took a deep breath and walked back toward the bed. Dean was still sprawled on his back sporting some impressive wood in his underwear. Sam reached out and brushed his hand against Dean's prick through the thin cotton. It danced under his caress and Dean made another happy, sleepy noise, which returned Sam's own rod to full attention.
Gathering all his courage, Sam slipped his fingers under the elastic at the waistband of Dean's boxers and slid them down his older brother's hips. Dean's cock bounced softly as it was released from its confines. Flushed red with blood, it stood out proudly from its nest of golden hair. Without thinking, Sam stooped down and kissed the tip, which twitched with the attention.
A tiny bead of moisture formed at the tiny slit, and Sam lapped tentatively at the fluid, which generated a moan from his nearly unconscious brother, so Sam did it again, which made Dean moan again. Getting braver by the minute, Sam wrapped his fist around the shaft of Dean's cock and slid his mouth over the head the way the girls in Dean's videos did it.
Sam took as much of the velvety length into his mouth as he could without gagging, and slid his tongue up the soft underside. As he withdrew his mouth, he stroked his hand up the shaft, now slick with his saliva.
"Oh, yeah, baby. Like that," Dean encouraged, dreamily.
Sam looked up at his brother through his floppy hair, but Dean's eyes were still closed, though his plump lips were open and he was breathing heavily. Sam slid his mouth back down Dean's cock, plunging it as deep as he could, then withdrew while stroking his hand up the shaft. He gradually found a rhythm between the two, and judging by the sounds Dean was making, Sam was doing it right.
After years of hearing his brother make these sounds by himself through the bathroom door, or from the other bed when he thought Sam was sleeping, Sam was thrilled that it was him making Dean moan like that. He loved his big brother so much and he felt so special to be giving Dean such pleasure.
He continued to suck and stroke his brother in a steady rhythm, increasing his speed slightly as Dean moaned endearments which made Sam's own cock twitch and dance in his shorts.
"Oh yeah, baby. Your mouth... Love your hot mouth on my cock. Taking me so good. Fuuuck!"
Sam moaned around Dean's cock, his big brother's words bringing him closer and closer to to shooting off in his shorts. He rubbed himself against the bed as he paused to catch his breath, continuing to stroke up Dean's glistening shaft, swirling over the tip, then returning to the base. He watched Dean's beautiful face suffused with pleasure, pleasure that Sam was causing, and he swelled with pride before replacing his mouth on Dean's prick.
Dean's breathing was getting more and more erratic, changing in the way that Sam knew meant Dean was close to coming. He loved this part of listening to his brother, how uninhibited Dean got with his moans and cries as he teetered on the edge of climax. Sam humped the mattress wildly and slid his mouth down, taking as much of Dean as he could, lips stretched so wide, breathing raggedly through his nose.
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck"
Suddenly Dean was bucking deep into Sam's throat. Sam pulled off a little in surprise and felt his mouth fill with a hot, bitter saltiness. He tried to swallow but it was too much too fast and Dean's cum spilled out the sides of his mouth as Sam came too, filling his shorts as he fucked against Dean's bed.
Sam collapsed onto his knees beside Dean's bed completely shocked by what just happened. He just fucking blew his big brother. He wiped his hand along the side of his mouth when he felt the wet stickiness start to slide down toward his chin. He knelt there on the floor pressing his face against the mattress not sure whether to laugh or cry until the cooling mess in his underwear forced him into action.
Sam stood up on shaky limbs and gingerly slid Dean's boxers up and over his softened prick. He pulled the sheets up to cover his brother's sleeping frame then tiptoed to his dresser to grab a clean pair of underwear to sleep in, stashing the soiled pair at the bottom of his laundry duffel. Sam climbed into his bed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he slipped out from under the covers and padded silently to the side of Dean's bed. He carefully pulled the flannel shirt Dean had been wearing out of the sleeves of his leather jacket and ghosted back to his bed. He climbed back in, hugging the shirt to his chest and face. Hopefully he'd wake up before Dean and ditch the shirt before his brother knew he was back to his childhood habit of needing to smell Dean to get to sleep. Tonight, it was worth the risk of teasing, though, and pressing his face to Dean's scent, Sam fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.