Wincest – Smut

Sam tried.

He really did. But it was so hard. How could he not love his brother? Dean was perfect. There wasn't a single flaw. Not in Sam's eyes anyway. He loved him since he was a little boy. He remembered how whenever he had a nightmare he would crawl into Dean's bed and no matter how sleepy Dean was he would wake himself up and murmur soothing things until Sam fell asleep curled up next to his older brother.

He remembered how he got a cut when he was three and he cried, and Dean kissed it and hugged Sam until he stopped crying. He remembered how his first steps were towards Dean; their dad hadn't even been home. He remembered how much Dean had cheered then hugged him tightly. He remembered how Dean stole things so they could have a proper Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or Easter.

He even remembered how Dean put five dollars which he spent all month saving underneath Sam's pillow so he would think the tooth fairy left it, and all Dean got in return was a pointy canine tooth.

But when he neared his teenage years, he realized that it wasn't simply a younger brother thinking his older sibling was the world. He had a crush on Dean. Dean. He missed how he couldn't hug Dean whenever he wanted to. But Dean always let Sam hang off his arm and climb him like a tree whenever he asked. At least, until he hit his growth spurt and shot up like a weed.

Then when he started his twenties, he began to love Dean. He always did, but now he just realized it was a lot more than what he thought it was. Then he left for Stanford and met Jess and he almost forgot about Dean. Almost.

Then he showed up and Sam fell right back in love with him without missing a beat. He constantly repressed the feelings but now, Sam didn't only love him. He wanted him.

How fucked up is that? That he got himself off thinking about his brother. That he woke up in the middle of the night, panting and sweaty because he had a dream of Dean and him fucking each other, and palmed himself through his shorts, releasing in seconds just thinking about him. How he would always stare at Dean when he was shirtless and found any excuse to take care of his cuts just so he could touch him.

So considering how he'd felt all those years, he thought it was safe to say he tried. Well, up until last night.

He and Dean had finished a hunt and went to a bar, Dean drinking liquor like it was water and Sam chasing his. "Aw, come on, Sammy! Just one glass without downing something that isn't alcoholic after it," Dean coaxed.

Sam laughed at how his brother slurred his words. "Yeah, how about I stick to this and let there be only one of us waking up with a killer hangover tomorrow?" Dean rolled his eyes and emptied his glass in one go, placing it on the counter and raising a finger for the bartender.

He flirted with her, as usual. Sam didn't mind, really, since he always did it. And then there were the nights Dean would stumble into their motel room, completely hammered with whoever the woman of the night was and he thought Sam was asleep. Sam was ashamed to say he got himself off multiple times listening to Dean's groans. So Sam didn't feel anything when he flirted with other women, they only lasted one night anyway.

But that was other women.

So when Sam and Dean stood at the pool table playing, Dean sinking all of his shots with perfect aim, despite being able to stand up straight, and Dean flirted with another guy who joined them along with his partner, Sam was pissed.

At least when he flirted with women he knew that even if they weren't brothers Dean wouldn't be with him because he was of completely different gender.

Sam didn't even know Dean wasn't straight. The man slept with so many women it was unbelievable to think he might have been anything but straight. So of course, Sam was furious.

But he was even more furious when the guy flirted back.

Sam gripped his wooden pole so tightly he could have broken it. But still, he kept his cool and gritted his teeth and bent over to line up his next shot. But when the guy tried to kiss Dean, Sam lost it.

He grabbed the back of Dean's collar and yanked him back. Dean stumbled, and he was already unstable to begin with, and the guy blinked, trying to figure out what just happened because Sam pulled Dean back so fast.

"Sorry fellas, but we'd better be going," he said through clenched teeth and hauled Dean out of the bar. The second they exited the building, Dean kept up a string of curse words all hurled at Sam.

Sam said nothing; he just kept walking, a hand on Dean's arm, pushing him to walk and his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Seriously, dude? What the fuck was your problem, you completely lost it back there, I swear if you do that to me again…" Dean didn't even shut up when he slammed the door of the motel room, arguing the two blocks back to the motel, past the confused motel owner, all the way through the elevator ride, and he still hadn't stopped.

Sam took off his jacket, Dean still babbling, his drunken stupor making words pour out of his mouth like water and then he wasn't making any noise because Sam's lips were pressed against his.

Sam couldn't resist it anymore, Dean had no idea how fucking sexy he looked when he was angry and it seemed like his clothes hugged him, outlining his perfect body even though they fitted him loosely. Sam didn't even know he'd done it until he realized how quiet it seemed without Dean's constant talking.

But when he realized he was sucking on his brother's bottom lip, nothing felt better. Then he felt Dean's hands against his chest and he was shoved away, stumbling back. Dean's eyes were wide, stricken with horror and any hopes Sam might have had of Dean not remembering what he did because he was drunk when out the window as he was completely sobered up. His brother looked at him with what seemed like disgust and Sam broke down.

He ran his hands through his hair, shoulders heaving and he found tears leaking from his eyes. "Dean, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just…" He sat down on the bed, head bent as he cried, knowing he ruined any normal relationship he could ever have with Dean.

But then Dean was there, too pained to see his little brother crying, and he wiped the tears from his eyes, kneeling in front of him and kissing his tear stained cheeks. "Shh, Sammy, shh, it's alright, don't cry, shh…"

Dean's lips kissed the corner of his eyes and Sam looked up, eyes watery and blinked at Dean. "I'm sorry…" he whimpered, afraid his brother would be furious with him.

But Dean's large hands cupped his face and their foreheads touched and Dean's mouth was on his. Dean nibbled on Sam's bottom lip, then edged his tongue past his teeth, tasting his little brother. Sam surprised himself when he pulled away and stared at Dean in utter confusion. "You're not mad?"

Dean sighed, looking up at Sam with such pain Sam had no idea how to even begin to fix it. "Sam, this is fucked up. Trust me, I know it. Since I took care of you, I couldn't stop thinking of kissing you. How fucked up is that?" Dean kissed him.

"How fucked up is it that I want to screw my little brother? That I want to fuck his brains out until he can't see straight?" Dean kissed him again.

"That I love my brother more than I should?" And Dean kissed him.

Sam vaguely remembered Dean pushing him on the bed, how he tore his shirt off of him, how Dean seemed to make his own clothes vanish in two seconds. Dean kissed his brother's chest, licking his nipples, biting his neck, massaging Sam's tongue with his own.

"Oh Sammy…" Dean moaned, moving lower to tug Sam's boxers down, taking his cock in his hand. Sam's hips bucked, wanting to feel more of his brother's warm hand on him. Dean steadied him with his other hand, rubbing the smooth skin below his calloused grip before bowing his head and licking the head, and Sam went crazy.

He chanted his older brother's name, groaning in pleasure. He stared down when Dean stopped holding him down to see Dean's hand on his own cock, rubbing it as he sucked Sam. Dean moved his head down, taking in all of his little brother while staring Sam straight in the eye and Sam lost it, falling to pieces with his brother's hot mouth around his swollen cock.

Sam barely remembered Dean flipping him over onto his hands and knees. He felt Dean's mouth at his ass, licking his hole and sticking one finger, then two, then three. He heard the pop of a bottle cap then Dean's fingers again in him, slick with lube, pumping in and out and Sam yelled, pushing back his hips for more.

"Mmm, so tight Sammy," he whispered hoarsely and Sam almost broke down at the sound of his brother's rough, sexy voice. It didn't take Dean long to see his brother was one for dirty talk and showed him no mercy, breathing out the filthiest things. He rubbed his hand over Sam's ass, squeezing the firm flesh, leaving bruised fingerprints everywhere.

"You like this, don't you Sammy?" he cooed, bending over Sam, pressing his body flush against Sam's back. "Yeah, you like feeling big brother's fingers in you, fingering your tight little virgin hole, don't you?"

Dean removed his hand from Sam's ass and straightened his back to lube himself up and grinned wickedly when he heard Sam's broken cry of protest. "Easy, baby brother…"

Dean eased himself into Sam, throwing back his head and groaning loudly as Sam's tightness. Sam was a mess; he jerked and twisted, trying to get Dean to move. Dean moved his hips slowly, bending over to press himself to Sam's back again.

"Oh yeah, you love this, you dirty little slut. That's what you are, aren't you? Hungering for your brother's cock in you, wanting to feel me thrusting inside of you, you dirty boy," Dean murmured into Sam's ear, gaining speed as he thrusted into Sam.

Neither Dean nor Sam could figure out how long they went at it for, but Dean felt his balls tighten and he wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, wrapping his hand around Sam's cock, jerking it. Sam thrashed, screaming in pleasure as Dean rubbed him and slammed his cock into his asshole. Sam felt his orgasm shudder through his whole body as Dean milked him onto the sheets.

Dean soon let go of his cock though, to grip Sam's hips and pound into him, ramming his prostate until his hot liquid shot into Sam, filling him. Dean groaned Sam's name and pulled out of him. Sam collapsed onto the bed in his own come and rolled over to face his brother who leaned over him.

Dean bent down to capture Sam's lips in a hungry kiss before Sam's eyes began to slowly shut. Dean stepped off the bed and lifted Sam, his muscles straining since Sam was bigger than he was, but he managed it, placing Sam on the other bed with clean sheets. Sam pulled Dean down next to him and Dean wrapped an arm around his younger brother, pressing a kiss into his brown hair before they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Dean stood in the shower until the curtain pulled back and he felt a pair of warm hands run over his wet body and he knew his shower wasn't going to last its usual ten minutes.