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Dean stared at the old television, before slumping back and groaning. He’d lived with shitty cable all his life, don’t get him wrong; he’s not an ungrateful guy. Just… bored.
“Sammy!” he yelled, fingers idly clicking the remote and flicking through channels.
A familiar tuft of brunet hair peeked around the door, before Sam shuffled into the room. To Dean’s despair, Sam was doing something even more boring than television. He eyed the books in his brother’s arms warily.
“Put those down. Are you ever not consulting lore or some bullshit?” Dean grumbled, raising a clean brow at him. Sam frowned in response. “Are you ever doing something intelligent? Stuffing your guts—with that junk—doesn't count.” he countered.
Dean scoffed, but didn’t argue. He was too tired to give a damn, he’d have a crack at Sam later.
“Sam,” Dean spoke up after a few moments. “c’mere.” he pat the couch beside him. Sam stared at him like he could read his mind but sat beside him regardless.
Sam grimaced when his brother put a rough hand on his knee, before moving up and smacking the inside of his thigh.
”Dean. Have some decency,” Sam scolded weakly, resulting in Dean squeezing the meat of his thigh unceremoniously.
“Don’t care about decency. You’re my brother, I don’t gotta be decent,” Dean rolled his eyes, “I’d be decent if you were a chick. But you ain't.”
Sam was about to retort before both of Deans hands pushed forward toward the fly of his jeans, undoing it. Sam wasn’t wearing a belt, so it made Deans job lots easier.
Dean fought a grin as he pulled his brother’s jeans down, sighing dreamily as he grabbed at Sam’s thighs.
”So nice,” he mumbled to himself.
Sam bit his lip and reluctantly scooted back, lying down against the old couches armrest. Dean was quick to rotate his body sideways on the cushions, pinning the underside of the youngers thighs against his chest as he leant down.
“What’re you doing, Dean?” Sam groaned, but there was no edge to it. Dean didn't dignify him with an answer and instead bent down to kiss him.
They’d kissed before. They’d started doing it really early, too; when they were kids and played house. Sam was six and didn’t know any better. Dean was ten and definitely did.
They didn’t stop when they were caught by John. He didn’t even tell them to. Just a glance, a shrug, and a ‘just don’t do it in public’. Sam knew when he was ten that Dean masturbated in the bed they shared, when he thought Sam was asleep. He knew when he was eleven that his brother jerked off in the bathroom with his boxers pressed up against his nose (Sam learnt this at the expense of having a door slammed so hard in his face he had to press frozen peas against the bruise).
Sam melted into the contact, humming as he kissed back, angling his face to press his lips more firmly against his brothers. Dean allowed him, swiping his tongue across Sam’s lips. Sam parted them without hesitation.
While that happened, Deans hand crept down his stomach and settled on his crotch; he pushed his hand beneath Sam’s underwear and palmed shamelessly at his mound.
”Dean-“ Sam began before he silenced him with his tongue, making his little brother groan.
”Not now Sammy,” Dean breathed, licking back into his mouth. Sam made a muffled noise of pleasure as Dean simultaneously arced a finger to press at his clit. Dean, on the other hand, scrunched his nose up. His hand ventured down more to find Sam’s entrance, gathering slick on his finger.
“Why d’you always do this?” Sam whinged. Dean scoffed and brought the wet finger back up to Sam’s clit, rubbing it insistently and making him shut up.
Sam made an aborted noise of protest, thighs tensing up and instinctively trying to shut. Dean rolled his eyes, forcing them apart with his body without taking his hand out of the taller boys underwear.
”De,” he breathed, feeling his brother’s hand go down and collect more wetness, the fingers rubbing his pussy making sloppy sounds when they moved.
”Shut up,” Dean huffed.
”Don’t tell me to shut up—“
”I just did. Shut up. I’m tryna focus.”
”Keep being a dickhead and i’ll get up and leave-“ Sam snapped, sitting up before being forced down by a firm hand on his chest.
Dean hands landed on either side of his hips, grabbing at the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down his legs.
”Ya know what time it is, Sammy.” Dean grinned, dangling the panties with an annoying look on his face.
”I don’t want to. It’s disgusting. I hate it,” Sam protested immediately, shaking his head.
”Boring. Come on.”
”I’m not a chick out of any of your pornos. I’m not putting that thing in my mouth—“ Sam argued, “—it’s disgusting. And also, I just got back from errands an hour ago. I’ve been sweating.”
”And?” Dean snorted.
”Do you realise how much of a turn off you are?” Sam groaned. Dean snorted and rocked his hips against Sam’s thigh, the bulging denim pressing firmly against his skin. Sam shuddered.
“It’s pretty good for me. I’m loving this. Come on,” Dean cooed. When Sam shook his head sternly, he groaned and threw them onto the coffee table. “Boring.” he grumbled.
”Don’t put them on the table, that’s where i eat-!“ Sam objected before the words melted away into a long sigh as Dean’s fingers found the little pink nub between his legs again. The muscles in his thighs clenched as his back arched encouragingly, his head tipping back over the armrest with a breathy moan.
”Y’gonna cum? On my hand?” Dean said cockily, but Sam couldn’t do anything but gasp. Dean focused on small circles with his thumb, applying pressure when he thought Sam was adjusting. He flinched as Dean’s thumb pressed down harder, mouth opening but no words coming out.
He kept rubbing until Sam’s hands shakily reached down as if to try peel his own away. Dean didn’t indulge him, smacking them away whenever they tried.
”Dean,” Sam moaned, the breathy wanton noise going straight to Dean’s cock. He rubbed his own hips down against the couch cushions beneath them, focusing on bringing his brother to orgasm more than himself.
Dean’s fingers massaged Sam’s clit for a bit longer until Sam was mewling and bucking his hips, the muscles in his thighs rapidly tensing and releasing.
”Deann,” Sam moaned, heat coiling in his stomach as the fingers between his folds grew more rough.
”Shaddup,” Dean shot back, rubbing faster and faster until Sam’s climax hit him without warning, making him choke out ‘Dean!’ as he wet his brothers hand with his orgasm.
Sam let himself breathe for a bit, head flopping back to stare at the roof. What he’d expected was for Dean to pull his dick out and jack off until he came on Sam’s stomach or something. That assumption crumbled to bits as he felt his legs be bent over his older brother’s shoulders. His head shot up to stare at him.
“Dean, what’re you—“ he began before the other man licked a long stripe up his sensitive pussy.
”Dean!” Sam cried out, a hand reaching down and burying itself in Deans hair in attempt to tug him away. Dean smacked the hand away and leant down, prying his glistening folds apart with his fingers and mouthing enthusiastically at Sam’s clit.
Sam’s hips bucked like he was trying to get away, making Dean press him down to the couch with a hand on his stomach.
”Come on Sammy. Do it again. I wanna test something,” he hummed, before burrowing himself back into the wet lips of his brother’s sweet pussy. Sam cried out as Dean sucked and mouthed around his clit, thick thighs entrapping his older brother’s head in hope it would stop him. The attempt was futile, instead egging Dean on to move down and lap at his hole, pressing his tongue at his entrance but not breaching.
”Dean, Dean,” Sam chanted as his brother finally licked into him, his sex squelching as Dean ate him out. Sam shuddered, legs tensing around the head between his thighs. Sam cried out, trying to wriggle away. He flinched every time Dean’s nose rubbed or flicked against his clitoris, body shaking in overstimulation.
”I can’t, I can’t,” he cried.
Dean looked up at him then, brows furrowing like he was considering getting up. Then he remembered his hard-on in his pants, ground his hips against the couch and leant down to keep going.
Sam shook and whined until Dean took his mouth off his hole, moving back up his vulva. Meanwhile, two calloused fingers came up to circle around his wet entrance before pushing in. Sam choked out an animal noise that made Dean groan against bright-red clit.
“Come,” Dean encouraged.
”I can’t!” Sam cried, body arching as Deans fingers found his sweet-spot.
”You can. Come.” he repeated.
Sam gave a throaty moan before Dean curled his fingers roughly against his inner-walls; Sam gasped, coming with his body arching violently and his head tipped back over the arm of the couch.
Sam didn’t pay attention to much of what Dean was saying. He zoned back in to see Dean’s wet face and dilated pupils.
”You’re doing so well Sammy,” he cooed, voice wobbly like he was drunk off Sam’s climax. “one more time. Ya think you can do one more?”
Sam had to think for a second. One more? One more what?
”I can’t come again,” Sam forced out, “‘t burns. Dean, don’t make me.” he whimpered.
”I think you can. Toughen up, Sammy. One more then i’ll go do… whatever. I’ll make you a bath or something.”
“Dean, i’m serious, i can’t.” he pleaded desperately, but Dean seemed to have made up his mind. He pulled Sam up from his laying position by his shirt, shuffled them both enough so Sam was straddling his head.
”Sit.”
”No.”
”Sammy, sit on my face. Come on.”
”I don’t want to.”
”Don’t be a baby, baby.” Dean snorted before pulling him down himself. The angle was terrible. Dean mouthed at his hole again, making Sam instinctively grind down; when he did, his clit rolled against his brother's nose, creating the most delicious friction. Sam would be more into it if he hadn’t come twice.
“Dean,” Sam babbled, trying to lift himself up but thick hands on his thighs pulled him back down again. Dean continued his merciless attack on his hole, licking and sucking fervently.
Sam was stuck between pulling away and pushing down, the overstimulation wanting nothing but for it to stop and the sweet pleasure in his gut effectively making him hump down against Dean’s mouth.
”De, stahp,” he babbled to no avail, trying to push up off him again but being forced back down once more. Sam’s eyes teared up in both frustration and ache.
”De,” he whined again, a drop of water slipping down his cheek from his eye. “stoppit.”
Dean didn’t listen, enjoying himself too much. One hand groped and grabbed roughly at Sam’s ass, the other having reached down to massage the prominent bulge in his pants.
”Dean,” Sam tried to snap but it just came out shaky and pathetic, genuinely crying now as he was caught between rubbing down and writhing to get away. Dean was set on making him finish one more time, not letting him get further away than even an inch before pulling him back down to the wet heat of his mouth.
Sam choked a sob, face scrunched in a mix of pleasure and pain from the stimulation. It burnt as much as it felt amazing, his predicament making tears spill from his eyes.
”I can’t. De, I can’t.” he shook his head profusely, but it just encouraged Dean to keep going.
Sam was suddenly hit with a terrible feeling, a curling warmth down below that definitely wasn’t an impending orgasm. He needed to go. But Dean wouldn’t let him get up. He couldn’t piss on his brothers face—
“Dean, let me get up. I think ‘m gonna-“
Dean raised a brow, then a look of realisation crossed his face as if he could read Sam’s mind. That made Sam assume Dean would throw him off, call him disgusting and fuck off to bed.
Dean did not do this.
He instead shuffled up the couch a bit more, focusing his sucking solely back on Sam’s clit. He cried out in confusion.
”Dean, i’m serious, stop!” he moaned in distress, the feeling becoming worse and worse. Dean wasn’t letting up. He sobbed in frustration and in embarrassment for what was going to come.
He tried to hold it as long as he could, but the second Dean mouthed and sucked roughly over his clit, he couldn’t hold it.
“Dean!” he wailed, unsuccessfully trying to pull away as the pool of heat in his stomach exploded; he made a noise the mix of a sob and a moan at Dean’s persistence.
Most of what happened next was a blur. Sam couldn’t bring himself to even look at his brother. He was disgusting. Grotesque. The worst brothe-
“Sam? Sammy? Jesus christ, Sammy,” Dean breathed. Sam noticed then Dean had come in his pants. He also noticed that Dean looked more aroused than disturbed. He blinked blearily, eyes fluttering as he finally noticed the couch was damp and so was nearly the entirety of Dean’s face and shirt.
“I’ve never made a girl squirt,” Dean exhaled in disbelief. Sam was suddenly met with gut-twisting realisation.
”I-“ he sniffled, wiping his wet face with the back of his hand, still slightly dazed. “I what?”
“Squirted. It was so sexy.” Dean laughed weakly, licking one more long stripe up Sam’s used pussy before giving it two light smacks with the back of his hand.
“So good for me. Three times. God, you’re so good,” Sam hummed in acknowledgement, feeling Dean pull himself out of under Sam, making him slump against the soaked couch.
”Jeez.”
”Jeez,” Dean agreed, nodding as he sat up, pulling his damp shirt over his head and wiping his face with the fabric. “it got in my hair.” he whinged.
“You are not blaming me for that.” Sam said weakly in an attempt to sound stern, voice cracking before Dean laughed.
”I’m not complaining. I’ve just gotta go shower.”
”You said you’d run me a bath,” Sam accused weakly. Dean shrugged, flashing him a cheeky smile before retreating and rounding the corner. Sam was left with his shaky legs and his shame.