Title: A Mirror Darkly

Type: Slash, first time, lost episode, oneshot

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing/s: Dean/Sam, Wincest

Episode Setting: Sometime after Lazarus Rising (Season 4)

Word Count: 1849

Summary: While Sam might reluctantly admit to wanting to have some of Dean's qualities, Dean would never admit the same towards his little brother. Ironic then that mysterious magicks of some sort cause each of the Winchester brothers to wake up with a little more in common with their sibling counterpart than they would like. Ironic yes, and also very unexpectedly devious and naughty.

Warnings: This is my first ever SPN slashfic, so keep that in mind. Also, it is Wincest so if sexual relations between brothers offends you (more specifically the brothers Sam and Dean as featured in the television show Supernatural) then by all means, do not read this fic. Like all of my fics (even the smutty, slashy kind) this one does not consist of spiteful smut. I let sexual chemistry and interactions build up somewhat believably and naturally so if you have no interest in good characterization, humour or nifty dialogue and just want Dean to suddenly ask Sam for a handjob out of nowhere, turn away now. May be slightly spoilerish to those who have not seen Lazarus Riding (the first episode of Season 4) and perhaps other episodes prior to that.

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural or the characters, just like writing about it and them.

Usually, it'd be right about now in break of waking day that Dean's head would be gradually growing more self aware of the progressive post-alcoholic thump reverberating from within it's cerebral heart. Ever since being yanked out of Hell though, Dean felt as though he'd been given a new lease on life, seemingly incapable of touching upon even the slightest of hangovers, his joints didn't have that dull ache he was so used to, old injuries both visible and otherwise bore no burden upon him. He contemplated all of these things as he refused to open his eyes in spite of how awake he knew he had become, a daily game he played often and that he assumed other men to play too. Not Sammy though, Dean thought, smirking unevenly and with the zeal of a drugged up imp, cruelly tarnishing his younger brother with the girly paintbrush which seemed to infuse him with wild pleasure even if only in the privacy of his own wakening thoughts.

"Well, I guess that's breakfast.", Dean quietly uttered though that same obnoxious grin, which still hadn't died from earlier, half-yawning as he formed his words that paid homage to the fact that his wicked thoughts towards Sammy had granted him the final kick he needed to get out of bed and start his day.

A sleepy cloud of wavering daze still hanging over him, Dean swung around to one side and left the comfort of his unflattering motel bed sheets, taking to his unsteady feet and noting their lack of equilibrium as his first steps taken were hardly balanced at all. An unsophisticated, Cro-Magnon pace took Dean through to the open plan kitchen of the motel room, where one greedy, ill-mannered hand dove into the already opened box of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch still set out on the table. As the eldest Winchester brother chewed on the flavoured pieces of cereal, refusing the obligation to keep his mouth fully closed as he did so, he walked to the bathroom a little more steadily than he had strode before, noticing an unusual feminine aroma coating the air around him. Dean really did feel better than he ever had in his life since he'd gotten his second chance at it,, so much so that today he even felt a little taller than usual. With a few simple cranks of both wrists, clean, tepid water gushed forth from the silver spout that overlooked the ceramic basin that Dean now leant down over. Cupping both hands together, he rose a small welling of water to his face in order to refresh it, thinking something was awry that he couldn't quite place. He repeated this method of fluidic refreshment again, and come upon the realisation that he did not remember shaving, yet his face felt unusually smooth and hairless. As soon as he looked up to face himself in the mirror, Dean bellowed sharply in a voice unfamiliar.

"SAMMY!!!", Dean shot loudly, before frantically pacing to the bedside of his still sleeping brother, "Get the Hell up you friggin' retard, we've got some serious crud on our hands, here!", Dean demanded, pulling the covers off his younger, less abrasive sibling.

"Dean what the-", a groggy Sam Winchester murmured, so tired with his brother's typical early morning 'wake-up' antics, although upon opening his eyes, initial doubt and annoyance faded away immediately, "-Crap! You're…me…and I sound like you which I guess means I'm you.", Sammy said, touching his new face in a panicked manner, as though to check whether his supposing were correct.

"No shit, Sherlock. I should'a known…I smelt way too flowery when I woke up this morning."

"Shut up Dean!", Sam said, which sounded more like a plea than a demand, his subtle eyes admitting defeat, causing the look of a puppy who had been struck across the head by a disappointed master. "What are you looking at?", he asked the usually shorter, lighter haired brother who now wore his face and body, uninvited, curious as to why Dean was scouring every inch of him with his eyes, and with that dirty 'that Hooters girl just gave me a boner' smile emblazoning his lips.

"Well Sammy, I've never got to enjoy the view quite like this before", Dean replied, looking as though he was about to devour his favourite meal.

"You're getting off on yourself while we're in each others' bodies? Gross Dean!", Sam seemed so disgusted in the idea, while Dean simply beamed obnoxiously, enticed by his brother's detest.

"No seriously, now I get it…why you're so whiney and need me to tell you what's what all the time. I mean I always figured you were 'pretty one' or whatever, but check me out! I'm a manimal! No wonder you follow me around like a lost puppy all day-", Dean did that open mouth grin with his tongue clearly visible to those who saw it. He was enjoying his own little outburst far too much for Sammy's capacity to keep his head from exploding.

"-NO I DO NOT DEAN!", Sam said, fighting his urges to go off to instead compose himself, knowing that Dean loved it when he got the best of him, "God, you really take egotism to a whole knew level for the sake of a joke, even at the worst of times."

"Who's making jokes?", Dean continued to bask. Uncomfortably for Sam, Dean also wouldn't stop staring either, in fact his stares were becoming more and more intrusive.

"Jesus, Dean, are you about to lick your lips!? Cut it out!", Dean ignored Sam's protest, "Take a picture and get over yourself.". After his last comment, Sam realized that he shouldn't be giving his brother any ideas, rankled at the realisation that Dean might actually parlay his comment into literally insisting the involvement of some devious photographic activity.

"Fine, I'll get over myself-"

"-Just as soon as what, Dean? Pigs start flying?", Sam cut Dean off, showing his snappy proclivity for traditionally bitchy sarcasm, a telltale sign that Dean was once again under his skin…although this time, such was much more elaborate a reality.

"Well, that or-", Dean took a moment to grin wildly and drink in the calm before the storm of what he was about to propose, although honestly, his soon to be administered suggestion of events was nothing that he would consider to be controversial, his morality far looser than Sam's, "-well, I've only ever seen my junk from a birds eye view-"

"-No way in Hell Dean!", Sam's eyes widened in fear as well as disgruntlement.

"Been there, bought the T-Shirt…beats the shit out of Disney World. What exactly does Hell have to do with my junk…well besides that I've been told it gives a Hell of a ride-", Dean did that open mouth smile again, only this time it was so devilish it could have caused church windows to smash into smithereens.

"-I am not showing you what your junk looks like just so you can kill some sick curiosity you have with yourself. It's not gonna happen, so just drop it Dean.", Sam tried his best to let Dean know he was not prepared to compromise, let alone yield.

"Hmmm, well Sammy, we'll have to see what I can do about that. And what's with the stick up your ass anyway? No harm in a bit of once-in-a-lifetime show and tell-"

"-What?! You can't do anything about it! Even for you, this is beyond all levels of creepy bastard you've ever surpassed before!"

"Oh come on Sam, you know me better than that…if I really want something-", Dean paused again and gestured his eyes slowly downwards to the lower regions of his pelvic area, tilting his head for a moment with a contemplative, cocked brow live, then returning his gazes to Sam and smiling fiercely, giving his brother some indication as to what his plan of coercion might be.

"Oh no you don't Dean-"

"-Oh but yes I do, that is…if you're not willing to cooperate.", at this point, Dean's smirks were so packed with rainbowesque vibrancy, that they just look ridiculously goofy.

"This is s typical of your bullcrap Dean. We should be figuring out what did this to us and how we're gonna fix it…not entertaining your sick little obsession with yourself by trying to get me to show you your own peen…which by the way is NOT going to happen.", Sam was hoping that he was right to call Dean's bluff.

"Well you brought this one on yourself Sammy-"

"DEAN!!! Don't you dare-", and before he could even finish his sentence, at a time when Sam would have thought himself to initiate an immediate ass-whooping of his elder, extremely annoying brother, he instead found that he was left immobilized and speechless at the witness of Dean's miscreant actions, "Christ on a bike Dean, that's fucking disgusting…stop it…stop it RIGHT NOW!", Sam finally mustered up the will to react at all, least of all with words, as Dean proceeded to squeeze at the unfamiliar penis between his legs with firm, intentional force. Naturally, Sam urged himself to look away, but logic dictated that this was probably a bad idea; after all, who knew what Dean would do to the body he now possessed if he had no eyes judging him.

"I warned you. Besides, you know what it's gonna take to make me stop…and if I were you, I'd get on with it…I feel a chubby coming on.", Dean did nothing to prevent the short bursts of gritty chortlings that spilled forth from the pits of his crafty, uncouth mouth.

"Dean! STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF!", Sam shrieked, desperately.

"What's the matter Sammy? Afraid 'Little Winchester' is gonna like big brother's TLC a little too much?"

"How can you even laugh at what you're doing!? It's not funny Dean…it's-"

"Now, now Sammy, you're the one who made it creepier than it had to be…all I wanted was a peak at my own funstick, but you just had to be a killjoy.", Dean explained his innocence in all this, while there was an aftertaste of glee in his mind at the fact that he had angered Sam enough to make him say a derivative of 'fuck' only moments ago, "Well, well, well…guess you're not quick enough on the old uptake there Sammy, looks like 'Little Winchester' just got not so little.". Dean's facial expressions were infectiously animated as he gave the turgid erection in his hands a considerate and appreciative look-over, "You dark horse you…whodathunk it? The girlyman aint no fun size in the pants.", Dean gave another irritating smirk, which when accompanied with the tone of voice in which he spoke, seemed to hold an undercurrent of pride towards the findings of his brothers evidently elaborate endowment. "Well now that it's good and hard, I guess there's only one thing left to make it do.", Dean insisted, pupils wandering upwards beneath raised brows to accentuate a gesture of promised mischief.

"Fine Dean you win, I'll do it. Just stop touching my cock, NOW!"

"Music to my ears."

END