unpunishable

Dean's not taking it well. Sam knew he wouldn't take it well but there is truly no other choice here.

Five days ago, the food ran out.

Usually when Dad takes a solo hunt and dumps them in the Motel Of The Week, he leaves enough cash for food that they can have at least one meal a day outside of school hours. The reason for the stinginess?

"You boys get two free hots every day at that school, don't make my tax dollars go to waste dammit."

Most days, it's a non-issue. Yeah the weekends get hard sometimes but then either school starts back up on Monday or dad comes home and the access to food is granted again and Sam can eat to his growing body's content.

Unfortunately, in the purest example of Winchester Luck, this county's school district starts summer vacation early. Meaning, their meager food cash left by Dad disappeared fast.

It's not like Dean can't budget. He's been managing money for him and Sam since before he could even properly understand the value of a dollar. But it just wasn't enough this time, and Dean hasn't had any luck yet in finding any bars lenient enough to let a clearly underage boy inside for hustling pool.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you wanna try the food pantry again Dean? Y'know, the one that refuses entry to those not part of their witch cult? We can get all demonic and worship together, worth a shot. We just have to join their commune and worship a demon from a freaking grimoire!"

The words spewing from Sam's mouth are coming out mean and he doesn't know why. He's frustrated, he's mad at Dean, and he's hungry, but he knows that Dean is hungry too. He knows that Dean blames himself for not somehow stretching the budget further when Dad didn't even leave enough for one person, let alone two growing boys.

This crazy town itself isn't helping either. The whole reason they're even here in Nowhere, 'ag-land' California is because of the stupid freaking cult run by a high-ranking witch coven. Dad has been stuck in deep cover attempting to infiltrate it for almost a month now. There's no way to contact him without blowing his whole operation wide open so Sam and Dean have to deal with their problems on their own.

Hence, the immediate and urgent need for Child Protective Services to take over so they don't starve to death.

Through any means necessary.

"I'm doing the best I can Sammy! You think I haven't been asking around? That I haven't been begging for food or money? I'll even steal for Christ's sake, there is no way I'm going to pretend to molest you to have CPS take us away! Fuck's sake, I'd go to prison! Do you even think about the words coming out of your-"

"But you won't, because I'll deny everything once we have their attention. You'd never actually do anything anyway so there'd be no evidence to hold against you and once CPS starts looking they can't ignore everything else anymore! We'd get food!"

"We'd get separated is what we would get! We'd get taken from Dad! They would never let me around you again if there was even the slightest suspicion of sexual fucking abuse, holy shit- I'm gonna pass out."

Sam feels bad. Dean is swaying in place now, hand over his mouth, trying to breathe like a normal person and failing at it. He's causing Dean distress.

But Sam is also distressed. He's hungry. He's so hungry that his stomach is constantly throbbing and he's in a neverending state of nausea and vertigo. Dean is dealing with it all better than Sam because of the muscle he packed on as a teenager but Sam has always been lanky and skinny. Dean has energy to burn that Sam simply doesn't and he can't take much more of this.

They tried to get help. They tried to tell someone, anyone who would listen and no one did. Hell, Sam even called the damn police station directly to tell them but they just warned him about "false reports equaling jail time," and "being more grateful for what he does have."

So. Here they are now, Sam trying to convince Dean to pretend to molest him in public because no one cares until there's sexual abuse involved.

"Dean. Please."

Sam knows he has to get through to Dean. He needs to impress how important it is that this happens. Sam needs to let Dean know that no, he isn't going to hate Dean for it, and no, he will not allow Dean to be unjustly punished for something Sam is pushing him into.

"I'm so hungry. I am literally starving. I trust you enough to know you'd never take advantage of me or hurt me, and if we do get separated we can always meet back up together again. You won't be put in jail because nothing. Will. Happen. There is no case if there is no crime. We enact the plan, we get put in a group home for a bit with all the food we could need, and we break out to reunite with Dad when he kills the coven and dismantles the cult."

Dean still has hand over his face and he's still breathing heavily but he's staring intently at Sam now, head bent and shoulders hunched over himself like he wants to fall forward but is caught in Sam's orbit. He's unbalanced and there's genuine anxiety in his eyes but Sam isn't backing down. He showing Dean that he's serious about this, that he isn't saying any of this lightly.

"Dee. I promise. It'll be okay."

Sam can see the moment Dean breaks.

There's thirty more full seconds of Dean looking away and taking a deep steadying breath, running his hands through his hair and scratching his head painfully before he finally relents.

"...Fucking- alright, fine! But we are doing it my way or it doesn't happen at all!"

And that's how Sam is currently in the back seat of the impala with the windows rolled down and a blanket over his lap, with his brother's hand fake jerking him off as he acts out moans and whines.

They parked in the middle of a busy strip mall close to the town's police station with the certainty that they'll be stumbled upon by a good Samaritan that'll call in the public indecency. Sam is making sure he's loud enough to be heard across the whole damn parking lot and gets louder when people walk close by, embarrassment be damned. This is his plan, he's committing to it.

Dean though is hunched over Sam, crowding them both into a corner near the car's rear door and open window, hiding his face away in the crook of Sam's neck while he's frantically whispering "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Sammy, sorry, sorry, sorry."

Sam's never heard Dean like this before. Ever. It makes his fake cries more real in a terrible way, and since he can't verbally reassure Dean that this is fine, it's okay, we can get through this, he threads his fingers through Dean's hand not pretending to molest him instead.

Every now and again Dean's hand will bump into Sam's crotch. As much as he feels horrible about it because this whole fucking situation is fucked oh my god, he still feels that familiar heat in his face and belly as he chubs up in his pants. It's completely involuntary, don't overthink it, seriously where the hell are the police!?

Sam is acutely aware of when Dean notices this too because he feels Dean's hand movement under the blanket momentarily falter and he makes an aborted twitch violently backward like he wants to throw himself off of Sam and into the road outside. And that more than anything makes Sam feel like an absolute monster.

Why isn't he just normal? Why doesn't he have enough willpower to not get disgustingly fucking hard when his brother is actively fighting through a panic attack while fake goddamn raping him? Sam is always dirty and evil but this is a new low even for him, Dean will hate him forever. He knows how gross and unclean Sam is now, he's going to be hated by his brother until the end of time and he has no one to blame but himself-

Dean suddenly takes their hands that are entwined together towards his chest and he squeezes tight. A wordless reassurance as he starts his arm movements back up. It's okay. I'm fine. You're fine. We're all fine.

Dean puts his forehead against Sam's sweaty head, the tears building up in Sam's eyes blurring his vision of his brother's face but the comforting weight of them leaning against each other is a balm to his soul. A cold glass of water in the middle of a desert oasis.

He doesn't hate me.

Sam is still hard. He's panting and groaning and whining at every light brush of Dean's fingers still intermittently hitting his crotch but Dean doesn't try to move away again. He's stays over Sam, eyes closed as they both just breathe together and share in the terrible experience together.