Title: Bar Back Alleys and Brown Eyed Boys
Summary: Sam is down for the count. Dean helps him into the tub. Chick flick moments ensue. I totally suck at summaries.
Characters: Dean W./Sam W.
Tags: Wincest - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Hunt Fic, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Porn With Plot, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Bottom Sam, Top Dean, Rimming, Anal Fingering, extensive use of the word fuck, sam gets hurt, Sam takes a vicodine, Love Confessions
Image Credit goes to: Screencap, self-edited! So, me :)
Notes:
So, this was originally posted on 05/12/2017 to Ao3. (Where I've been active for the past 5 years.) Noticed whereas I get more hits on Ao3, I get more interaction on this website. So, I'm going to start posting my older stories here on FRIDAYS. If you wanna check out what else I have or simply like that platform better, come check me out on Ao3. (Superwoman0124) Don't forget to follow me on Tumblr (whoaeasytiger0124) for chapter updates, general shenanigans or just some plain ol' fun.
Original Notes:
This is my first time posting ANYTHING for almost 2 years. I have a 3 year old and a 3 month old and things have been CRAZY. Alas, I am now a stay at home mom and can now devote all my spare time to making my favorite characters do naughty things.
Found this little plot bunny half written from like, two years ago in my "Fun Stuff" folder. Figured I'd finish it! Enjoy, my lovelies!
*** Just a quick non-con warning. Technically, due to Sam's inability to consent due to him being stoned, I have to include a non-con warning for those of you who don't like that. However, due to Sam's over-enthusiastic agreement and his part in initiating the contact, "consent" is a toss up. Because of that, I won't include it in the tags. If this kinda stuff squicks you, please don't read it. And please, be smart, guys. Don't assume that just because someone is stoned, it's considered consent.***
====Chapter 1: God Damn Morality====
"Aggg!" Sam snapped back against the warehouse wall as the beautiful porcelain Japanese woman slammed him back. He felt a 'pop' and knew, he just knew, that she'd dislocated his shoulder. She slid her cold hands up to his throat and squeezed.
So what's that now?
Dislocated shoulder, probably a few fingers, knee, most likely his left leg. All he knew was being the distraction sucked while Dean struggled out of his bonds.
Hold up, rewind.
They're in Oklahoma. Chasing a series of attacks on rich guys. Like.. Really rich guys. 4 of them within 6 months. The kind of asshats with 13 houses and 2 Ferraris. The one maid said she found fine red hair all over the house but the master hasn't had a cat in 6 years.
Kitsunes have fox tails. Big furry ones.
Okay, play.
"Agggg!"
The Kitsune loosened her grip around Sam's throat to turn and see the bloody, but finally standing Dean. He raised his fist to reveal her 'hoshi no tama' or star ball tight in his grip. Her eyes lit up like a cat with a yarn ball. Her sacred item. Her guarded treasure. Tight between a mortal's hand.
She instantly sunk to her knees and muttered Japanese. Dean heard her sobs.
"Please.." Finally, some English. "Please. I will do whatever you wish. Do not drop my item, sir."
She bowed at his feet, shaking her head violently. Begging.
Dean had never had anyone beg before. He was only slightly enjoying it.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"Wish we didn't have to let her go." Dean wrapped his arm around Sam and helped him limp from the car. He stood Sam up against the impala and took the pillow out of the back seat. Sam groaned as Dean put his arm back around Sam's dislocated shoulder to lift his tall ass into the hotel.
"I gotcha', you big baby."
Dean fumbled the key into the locks and laid Sam down carefully on the sofa. Dean stared Sam up and down and realized how bad he was. Yet, here Dean stood. One swollen eyeball and groggy from blacking out. Sam was in pain, Dean could tell. Sam squirmed.
"Lemme check you out."
Dean kneeled before Sam and pulled on the button of his jeans. Sam went to stop him and looked up at the swollen eye. Sam places his hand on Dean's eye and strokes his thumb across the black center.
"You alright?" Sam says lightly through labored breath.
Dean pulls away.
"Dude, don't make this weird."
Dean continued to tug at the weary button once again, this time snapping it with experienced force.
Sam hissed at the pressure to his groin.
"Easy!"
Dean shook his head and let out a subtle laugh.
"Alright, alright. I'll be easy on your girl parts."
Sam laid his head back and clutched the edge of the couch with both hands. Oh yeah, this thing was gonna hurt. He then recoiled in pain as a tremor shot up his right arm. Oh yeah, broken fingers. Sam held the broken pointer and middle finger to his chest and gave a slight nod to Dean.
Dean delicately pulled the zipper down and tucked his fingers under the waist band of Sam's faded jeans. Sam sucked in a deep breath and held it.
Dean looked up at his positioned brother and knew what to say.
"Band-aid or slow?"
"Ughhh." Sam's head spun. "Slow."
"It's your leg, dude."
Dean pulled the jeans down with ease down to his waist. Over his hips, revealing the teal boxers Sam sported underneath. With great ease, he slid them down further, hearing Sam's gasps and groans. He hissed every time Dean had to get up and go lower down his leg, readjusting himself to go as slow as possible. It finally got to the point of his knee and Sam started breathing quickly.
"Agg! Band-aid, band-aid!"
Dean heard the calls and pulled the jeans, carefully and as quickly as he could. Dean's eyes grew wide as he saw the purple knee before him and Sam's head fly back and hit the headrest.
"'Sit bad?"
Dean looked up and down at his little brother, strong muscles and calves, tensed and sweating, resolved to a ten-year-old with a boo-boo.
"Sorry to say it, kiddo. But, yeah.. Yeah, it's bad. I gotta go out and get supplies.. Um.." Dean stopped and wiped the sweat beading down his forehead that he didn't realize was there. He licked his lips nervously. "I gotta take your shirt off first and get you into bed."
Sam winced at the pure thought of simply moving.
"Mmkay." Sam laid his useless right arm across his face and covered his eyes. He sat up and saw his knee. He almost fainted.
Even though it was one of Sam's favorite shirts, they finally opted to cut it, seeing as how his collarbone was probably broken. Dean slid his arm under Sam's good arm and let his bad leg drag while he lifted him to the bed. Dean peered down at the toned stomach and hitched a breath. Sam was tan with a flat stomach. Dean felt himself breathe out. It was difficult to lift him; but something about this act. Something about lifting up his baby brother, into his arms and cradling him made Dean's blood burn with excitement. Being this close to Sammy and smelling the sweat, gun oil and old books made him weary in his steps. He finally dropped him lightly into the bed, and Sam curled into a ball.
The motel's scratchy sheets bothered Sam's naked flesh, but he was in too much pain to notice. He saw Dean stare him down and was noticeably embarrassed, shying himself away.
"G'night, Dea'."
"Night, Sammy. See you soon."
Dean paced the pharmacy. He rubbed the stubble on his cheeks furiously, trying to figure out what the best thing for Sam was. Pain relievers, fever reducers (just in case), bandages, cast supplies, splints, a set of crutches sat in the cart in front of him.
He went up to the back counter and talked the very beautiful pharmacist into Vicodin.
"Will that be all..." The cashier scratched his stubble and looked down at Dean's fake identification. "Special agent Zulu?"
"Yes, sir."
His drive back was unbearable. His heart wouldn't stop thundering in his ears. As he drove, he thought back to that feeling he got seeing Sam in so much pain. Seeing his naked body yielding to him. He quickly shook it off and gripped the wheel tighter, not letting the tent in his jeans go noticed.
"You're sick, Dean. Don't even start that again. He's your brother, damnit. It's not gonna happen. Stop thinking like that."
Sam was sleeping when Dean came back. He hated to wake him, but it needed to be done.
"Sammy..." Dean lightly shook Sam on his uninjured shoulder and Sam rolled over.
"Dean?"
"Yeah. Com'on, we gotta get you into the tub."
Dean pulled the covers back and Sam opened his eyes. He rubbed them with his closed fist. Dean went to latch his arm underneath Sam's arms before he noticed that Sam's boxers had an 8-inch lift in it.
Dean blushed deeply before lifting his little brother's hips and pulling the boxers off. Sam looked down nervously and covered himself up with his good hand.
"Sorry.. Happens, y'know?" Sam said sheepishly.
"Yeah..." Dean thought back to his own issue in the impala, and looked away coyly, deciding to play down to save Sam's modesty. "Sure."
He successfully lifted Sam and carried him to the tub. He winced when Dean set him down and Dean reached over his giant legs to turn on the warm water.
After being satisfied with the temperature, Dean left the bathroom, found the pharmacy bag and pulled out the Vicodin and a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Take this." Dean said holding out the pill to Sam. Sam took it with his good hand, took the pill and swallowed some water with a nod. Sam left his bad arm resting on his fully erect cock awkwardly and leaned forward to turn off the hot water. He instantly regretted it, his possibly bruised rib throbbing pain throughout his body. Dean pushed him back and looked away, trying to respect Sam's space.
"Dude, it's okay." Sam huffed a pained and light chuckle. "You've seen me naked like, a hundred times."
Dean stroked his own overgrown stubble with the free hand that wasn't balancing him on the edge of the tub.
"Not like this, Sam."
It was awkwardly quiet until Sam cleared his throat.
"Damned fox demons, huh?" Dean chuckled awkwardly as he found a washcloth and blotted Sam's injured knee. "They sure put up one hell of a fight." Dean's hands were focused, soft and gentle on the open wound, but his eyes were wandering elsewhere. Dean scaled Sam's body and landed back on his brother's flaccid cock, tight round balls and the small patch of hair just above it.
Sam giggled, the Vicodin was kicking in. Sam never did have any tolerance for pain killers.
"Why d-don't you just admit it?" Sam's eyes rolled to the back of his head. "You want me." He sighed and giggled again. He rested his head on the back of the tub and relaxed.
"Yeah, yeah, Shaddup." Dean laughed along.
Dean tried his best to ignore the stoner, but for some odd reason he couldn't get the thought out of his head.
Dean moved the washcloth up onto his chest and readjusted his knees closer. He slowly pulled the cloth between Sam's pecs, stopping to focus on each nipple.
"W-what..." Dean inhaled deeply. "What if I did?"
Sam's head shot up. His eyes were blown wide. Immediately they snapped shut with the pain in his head from moving so quickly.
"Wai-what?" Sam laid back and clenched his eyes shut.
Dean chuckled.
"You know I'm not into all this.. Chick flick shit, but fuck, Sammy..." Dean exhaled loudly and diverted his attention to washing the blood off of Sam's clavicle. A safe space without distractions. "Seein' you, tonight, like this? Protecting me? Life is short. and I- uh- I..it means more to me than anyone I've ever banged."
Sam giggled. "You mean any girl." Sam raised a floppy finger and pointed it in Dean's direction.
Dean lowered his head. Was he about to cross this line with his brother? After he knew about the countless brown haired, brown eyed men he'd fucked in bar back alleys, would Sam react the way Dean had always thought he would?
"Nah, man. I mean, any one."
"You mean- oh. Oh! Guys, too. Yeah." Sam thought momentarily, acting like it didn't matter and chuckled. "That explains a lot."
"What do you mean?" Dean splashed some water at Sam's face, his smirk spreading to the edges of his face.
"Why I'd b-be in bars with you and you-you'd just.." Sam raised both arms this time. "disappear. and you'd come back so... defea-def..." Sam giggled. "Wait, what's that word?"
"Defeated?" Dean scrubbed his forehead and ran the washcloth back down Sam's arm, the suds building.
"Yeah. I always thought you'd lost at pool, or some bar fly saw through your fake badge." Sam looked lost in thought, staring off into space, pupils blown wide, giving way to the bright burnt auburn of his iris. Sam scratched his head lazily, his eyes going to Dean like needles, face serious and ungiving. "So you like, love me?"
"Well, yeah. I thought that was pretty obvious."
"You know what I-I mean." Sam smiled, the edges of his lips picking up his laugh lines, white teeth peeking through as he rested his head back on the edge.
"Yeah. I-I do." Dean snorted through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck.
Sam chuckled, and began to sing. Badly.
"Sammy and Dean, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-"
Dean moved closer and roughly grabbed Sam's cheeks with one hand, pulling Sam into a quick, tense kiss. Dean pulled back fast as lightning and the blush spread across his face as he picked the washcloth back up. Sam was still stuck, leaning forward, lips puckered, and his eyes pinched shut. Dean picked a random spot on Sam to scrub, which just so happened to be his elbow.
When Sam finally came to, he blinked his surprise and laid back.
"Y-you kissed me!" Sam giggled, raising his hand from under the water. He stared at his fingers, the shrunken skin becoming fascinating.
"Damned right I did. Knew it would be the only thing that shut you up." 'That's not why I did it. His subconscious screamed out at him. Dean's tongue darted out to his lower lip for the briefest of moments and all he could taste was Sam.
"That was a total chick flick moment!" Sam looked (what he thought was) seriously at Dean.
"It was not!" Was, too. Dean was fighting with his inner self, trying to keep things light with his stoned baby brother and it was all just too much.
"Alright, you know what? Let's get you out of this tub, Courtney Love." Dean reached between Sam's legs to unplug the tub and felt an urgent hand pulling his face toward Sam.
Before he could blink, Sam was pressing his lips into Dean's. An awkward closed mouth kiss became a fevered open mouthed one, Dean revering in the feeling of Sam's soft lips against his rough ones. Sam's tongue was insisting, pressing when Dean's mouth closed, and Dean let him in. The heated muscle was silk against Dean's, twisting and retracting as Dean raised his hands to cup Sam's cheek. Dean let out a small sound, a half quiet moan and half realistic relief that this was finally happening. The smooth, shy kiss became emboldened by Dean's insistence, pushing Sam's head back to rest against the cool white porcelain wall of the tub.
Dean could feel lightning striking his spine and his ribcage lit up. His heart was thundering in his ears and he pulled away to gasp for breath. With his hold still on Sam, he rested his forehead against Sam's head, catching his breath, and waited for Sam to open those gorgeous auburn eyes.
When Sam finally did, his pupils were stretched wider than before, reminding Dean of the vicious drug running through Sam's system.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Dean couldn't believe those words just left his mouth.
God damn his righteous morality.
"W-why?" Sam huffed, finally catching his breath himself. "'Sit cause we're brothers? 'Cause Dean, I don't freaking care-"
"Nah, It's cause you're as high as Willie Nelson, dude." That made them both laugh, the booming sound echoing off the thin white tile of the room. Dean tightened his hold of Sam's face and licked his own lips.
He may never get a chance of tasting Sam again.
Dean reached under Sam's back and laced his arm around him, beginning to lift him up. Sam grabbed hold of the towel rack and stood, hissing when he put pressure on his left leg.
"'M not that high." Sam's eyes were red, wide and bloodshot, and Dean gave that a laugh.
"Dude, you just pulled yourself up with your broken collarbone."
Sam looked at his arm, bruised and battered, mouth open and slack jawed.
"Oh." When Sam stood from the water, his body was glistening with droplets of clear liquid that Dean wouldn't mind licking from his body.
"Oh is right, kiddo." Dean refocused his attention, snapping himself out of it, and focused on the look of pain on Sam's face. Sam's cock was forceful, standing tall and proud through the pain. Dean thought to himself, at least he wasn't the only one turned on.