#weecest smut

And Dean hasn't noticed, but Sam has.

Dad has been watching them almost warily recently. His eyes are glued to them at all times, brows furrowed when he sees them sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.

And Sam knows maybe he should go tell Dean. Tell him it might be time to stop, except he's 16. He's pissed at dad for the crappy hand they got dealt in life, and all his rebellion in the world just seems to get him crappy punishments and lecturers.

And this? This was quite literally the biggest fuck you Sam could give to him.

It's so stupid, and he knows if Dean knew he would be freaking the hell out, but he hasn't noticed and Sam's getting quite a kick out of the idea. Of showing dad that he's getting fucked by his big brother, and it's all his fault really, because he loves Dean far too much than he ought to, because of the fucked up way John dragged them up.

He links their fingers under diner tables, and Dean doesn't question it. Just grips his hand right back and continues his lunch with one hand, talking away while oblivious to the stare dad is directing at their arms as they disappear beneath the table.

They've always had some issues with personal space, but Sam really tries to up his game. He's practically sitting on Dean's lap on Bobby's couch, and when he leans across Dean's thighs to reach his book on the floor, dad straight up leaves the room. Sam smirks, and Dean is too focused on whatever is playing on the TV to notice the events that just transpired.

He keeps it up for weeks. He stumbles into Dean a few too many times to be natural, and his brother grips his waist to steady him. He wipes food from his face, and asks to try some of his pie even if he really has no interest in the stuff, because dads face is a fucking picture when Dean lifts a spoon to his mouth, and he really makes sure to groan and lick up the cream. It even has Dean squirming in his seat, and Sam's fairly certain dad picked up on that too.

It all comes to a head soon enough, and honestly? This time, Sam wasn't planning it.

He was riding Dean's lap like his life depended on it, his big brother burying his face in his neck while Sam grips at his shoulders. He doesn't hear the impala pull up, but he sees the door open.

He sees John staring through the crack, and his expression is one of pure shock, far more grim than Sam had seen him wear on any hunt.

And Sam just grabs on tighter, staring John in the eye as he moans Dean's name and slams back down onto his brothers cock.

"God, Sammy. So fucking amazing baby."

The door shuts silently, and when John returns a few hours later reaking of whiskey, Dean is asleep, all the evidence is gone, and Sam is pretending to be asleep.

His favourite thing was marking up his baby brother, sucking hickeys over his jaw and neck until everyone could tell just by looking at Sam that he was a little slut. That he was the type of boy to drop straight to his knees without being asked, 15 year old baby face be damned.

Sam would have his neck marked to hell, and dad would always scowl dissaprovingly at his youngest. Dean would watch him eyeing Sam with something almost concerned, cataloguing every pretty little mark. He loved watching Sam burn bright red as John questioned him, gave him lecturers about safe sex and not knocking up girls. About keeping it in his pants, because sure, him and dad? They were allowed to hook up with nameless pretty girls, but Sam was still just 15 and the baby of the family.

If only dad knew how wrong that was. There wasn't anything innocent left in his baby brother. The monsters had taken some of it, and Dean had taken the rest with a smile on his face and his hands down his little brothers pants.

He'd lecture Sam all the while Dean was sat next to him with fingers grabbing his thigh under the table, travelling between Sam's legs that fell open with such delicious obedience, like a reflex.

He starts doing it again when Sam gets back on the road with him after Stanford, and Sam remarks with a sigh about how they aren't kids anymore, how Dean is far too old to be giving out hickeys.

He doesn't give a shit. He just laughs low against Sam's neck, and continues nipping at the soft flesh as Sam moans, and he wonders absently if he ever got Jess to mark him like this.

The very idea makes Dean suck and bite harder, and the next day even he's willing to admit he went a bit far. Sam's neck had looked like a painting of purple and blue, and he had refused to leave the motel because even the concealer Dean had grabbed from the nearby drug store wouldn't do shit to cover it up.

-

"Seriously? You're 34 years old." Sam teased, but he gasped when Dean bit down on his pulse point, sucked the skin and darted his tongue to lick over it.

"And you're the 30 year old who still has the sex drive of a 16 year old." Dean teased right back, face still pressed against Sam's neck.

"Cas will see, and Jack. We-" Dean cut him off with a kiss, swallowing up his objections.

"That's the point, baby." Dean hummed with a grin, and Sam scowled.

"You're a possessive asshole." He said, and Dean chuckled.

"And you love me for it." He responded, before going to town again on Sam's neck.

-

The next morning when Jack asked with great alarm about what attacked Sam, Dean almost spits out his coffee from laughing. Sam just scowls, mumbles 'nothing' while his face goes cherry red just like it did when he was 15.

And it adds a whole other level of wrong to what they're doing, but it gets Dean harder than anything to see his innocent baby brother so willing and calling him daddy.

Dean should stop it, he knows that. Or at the very least, he shouldn't encourage it. Shouldn't reward Sam with kisses and whatever his asks, call him baby and run fingers through his hair.

He thought the puppy eyes were bad, but combined with a purred daddy, please... well Dean would quite literally murder an innocent civilian if Sam asked him to.

And Sam must know how much he loves it. The power he yields over Dean with the little nickname and soft eyes, because he starts using it outside of sex too.

"I really want to go to the library, Dean." Sam huffed, and Dean just cranked up the music and ignored him as he continued towards the motel. Sam huffs again but still doesn't get results, so he changed tactics.

Stretches his legs out, let's them fall apart and let's out a small whine, pushing his head back against the seat and tilts it up slightly so he can still look right at Dean. He puffs his lips out in a pout, nibbling on the lower one as he squirms in his seat.

"Please, daddy. Haven't I been your good baby boy? Don't you love your baby anymore? I just want to go to the library for an hour or two, daddy. I'll make it up to you when we get home..."

The car was turned around to the direction of the library so quickly it almost gave Sam whiplash.

And soon enough, Sam saying his actual name just felt odd. He used 'daddy' in every context, and it just sort of became his go to name for Dean without any sort of motive most of the time.

A few times Sam slips up in front of John, uttering the word to get Dean's attention in place of using his actual name, but luckily dad just thinks he's talking to him and the most he gets is an odd look and a 'you haven't called me that since you were 5, Sammy. Stop acting like a baby'.

Sam wasn't supposed to be home.

Sam had came home earlier than he was meant to because after walking the thirty minutes to the library, he discovered it was closed Sundays.

When he entered the dingy little house Dad had set them up in the building was vibrating with the melody of closer by Nine Inch Nails.

He rolled his eyes, calling out for Dean but finding him no where downstairs. He had headed to the bedroom and knocked, but the music drowned it out and he found himself about to throw the door open and tell the older boy to turn it the hell down when he heard it.

"Fuck!"

It was a breathless moan, loud and clear and Sam felt his cheeks heat up.

Dean must gave a girl round.

He went to turn and leave, probably go explore the town a little and return when Dean was finished, when his brother moaned again.

"Fuck, that's it Sammy. Jesus, baby brother"

Sam's entire body froze, face burning bright red as Dean continued to moan and groan his name. Before he could stop himself he was turning back to the door, creaking it open incredibly slowly until he had a small gap he could see through.

Dean wasn't with a girl.

He was alone, stark naked with his boxers pulled down to his ankles and hand sliding desperately over his rock hard dick.

Moaning Sam's name.

Sam felt his cheeks burn up, and he quickly scrambled back from the door.

He must've misheard. There was no way. Sam was the one who was sick in the head, who was hopelessly lusting after his older brother. Who could blame him? Dean was perfect. He looked like a damn Greek God with his chiseled muscles and beautiful eyes.

Sam was... Sam was just Sam. Far too lanky and awkward. Dean could fantasize about anyone in the entire world, why would he chose his 16 year old brother who had 0 sex appeal?

"Sammy... yes, baby. Keep doing that."

Sam felt his blush deepen, and he couldn't quite resist moving closer to the door to watch. He was too focused on the scene in front of him, and next thing he knew he stumbled into the cracked door and sent it flying open.

Dean's eyes were wide, his dick still out and straining but his hand going still as he looked over at Sam with an odd combination of horror, embarrassment and... lust.

There was a silence, and neither of them moved. Sam was too busy staring at Dean's leaking dick and Dean was too busy staring at him.

"Do... do you want my help with that?" It was quite possibly the lamest thing Sam could've asked, and he mentally slapped himself for it. Of course Dean wouldn't want him to, his fantasies were probably a one off hormonal-

"Yeah, if you're offering." Dean choked out, and Sam realised how much effort it must be taking for him to not continue right then, Sam being in the room be damned .

Sam didn't wait for anything else to be said. He rushed towards the bed so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, climbing on in front of Dean.

"I- what was I doing? In your... fantasy?" Sam asked, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Uh... you were sucking me off, but I don't think I'm going to last long." Sam could tell. He didn't know how long Dean had been going at it, but his dick looked painfully hard and a little purple at the top with a need to come.

"I don't care." Sam breathed before inching closer. Admittedly, he didn't have any experience sucking dick. He had only actually lost his virginity to some random girl a few months ago, and he had yet to try things with boys. Yet now? It felt like he was over flowing with confidence and eagerness. He wanted Dean in his mouth so bad.

He leaned over a started with a few experimenting licks, going up Dean's length and swirling his tongue. Dean groaned and Sam grinned, opening his mouth and starting slow. He sucked and licked over Dean's straining head, laping up the unfamiliar taste of pre come and savouring it on his tongue.

"Sam, God, fuck" Dean panted out, his thighs squeezing Sam and his hand coming down to grip at Sam's messy mop of hair.

Sam continued downwards. He went as far as he could without gagging, methodically sucking and licking and swirling his tongue.

Dean was right about being close, because less than a minute later his brother was screaming his name as he came in Sam's mouth.

That had caught Sam off guard and he quickly pulled off, choking slightly with a few coughs before his body settled.

"Fuck, sorry Sammy. Should've gave you some warning but I couldn't even speak - that was so fucking good." Dean breathed, eyes clouded and chest heaving.

Sam felt his cheeks heat up at the praise.

"Yeah?"

He's barely 15, fresh into yet another new high school, and she's a senior in Dean's class. On the cheer squad. A brunette, beautiful, long legs for days, and Sam isn't attracted to her in the slightest.

They're at a party. A party Sam definitely shouldn't be at, because he's fucking 15, but Dean refused to leave him back at the motel alone and he hadn't had a night out in ages. Even if he didn't complain, Sam knew his brother was bored being stuck in watching whatever shitty movie they could find on the 10 motel channels they got.

So he insisted. Said he'd take his book and sit somewhere quietly, and that had initially been his plan.

Except now? He had no idea where he'd left his book, and he'd ended up with a couple of beers in his system, and as a 15 year old with little to no drinking experience... he was pretty damn buzzed.

He decided to go seek out Dean, knowing full well his big brother would beat his ass for even looking at alcohol, and then probably beat the ass of the guy who gave him it. He found him in the basement with a girl.

They were alone on a raggedy couch, and Sam's eyes were glued to the scene. Their lips were connecting messily, and Dean was lay across her. She was shirtless, her breasts bursting from her bra.

And yet Sam's body was far more interested in his brother's lack of shirt, and maybe he could blame it on the alcohol, except these odd butterflies in his stomach whenever Dean touched him or even looked at him for a little too long had been a sober occurrence for months now.

"Sammy? What are you doing down here?" Dean's voice pulled him out of his own head momentarily, and all he could do was blink at his older brother.

"I..." he started weakly, trying to think up an excuse, but he had never been good at lying to Dean and the alcohol making his head swim was hardly helping.

"Who's this?" The girl looked over in his direction, eyes clouded as she grinned over at him.

Sam found himself shrinking under the gaze. His cheeks felt hot and he found himself wishing he had just stayed upstairs with the warm beer and pounding music.

Dean climbed off her, and Sam could see his hard on tenting his jeans.

"This is Sam, my little brother. Sam, this is Jenna." Dean said, picking up a cigarette from an ash tray resting on the ground and taking it to his lips. He passed it to Jenna who took a hit of her own, and she was still staring over at him curiously.

"The kid like weed?" She directed it to Dean, as if Sam wasn't stood right there, but honestly Sam didn't mind. He liked when Dean answered things on his behalf, liked the subtle reminders of how Dean knew him just as well as he knew himself.

"He's never tried it."

"Hm. Come here, Sammy." The nickname felt wrong rolling off her tongue, but he didn't object like he normally would. He didn't turn and leave either, or threaten to tell dad, or do anything that he should.

Instead he made his way over to Jenna, who was still donning just her bra and scandalously high cut shorts. She gestured to her lap, and Sam looked over to Dean.

His brother looked slightly dazed from the drugs, but he was still eyeing him with immense focus, one eyebrow pulled up as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. Not so much in disapproval, or warning, but more in a curious way.

As if he was really just waiting to see if Sam would accept.

That's all it took really. A vague, non-verbal dare, a challenge, and Sam was moving to sit on Jenna's lap.

"Good boy. I suppose the handsome gene runs in your family." She grinned, lithe fingers moving over his arm.

"Jenna..."

"Relax, Dean. He's fine, aren't you Sammy?"

Sam didn't trust his voice, so he just nodded.

"Damn. I'm really curious to see your boys daddy. Bet he's fucking delicious..."

"Jenna." Dean's voice was far more vicious now, her name being hissed through his teeth, and Jenna smirked.

"Did I hit a sore spot?"

You have no idea.

"I'll stop, just pass me the joint." She put her hand out, but Dean didn't hand it over immediatly.

"I want to try it, Dean. Not a kid anymore." Sam muttered, and Dean scoffed.

Sam put his hand out this time, and it was swatted away.

"Inhale, hold, then exhale. Not too much for your first hit, bitch." Dean lifted it to his lips and for a brief moment their eyes locked together.

Finally Sam leaned that little extra distance to put it into his mouth. He inhaled, and tried to hold, only to start sputtering. He heard Jenna giggle, felt her hand patting him firmly on the back to stop him from coughing up a lung.

"You're doing it wrong, give it." She snatched it from Dean's hand, taking a long drag. Before Sam even knew what was happening, he was being pulled forward and his lips connected with Jenna's as she exhaled the smoke and let it dance between their mouths.

It was an odd feeling at first, and Sam honestly had no clue what to do with himself as Jenna chewed on his lip, kissed him rough and slow.

Then he felt a familiar large hand grip his wrist, moving his hand up and up until it rested on her breast.

He squeezed, and Jenna let out a loud moan into his mouth.

When he cracked an eye open to look over at Dean, he was sat staring, fingers still loosely wrapped around his wrist and his lips parted slightly, and that was enough to convince Sam to keep kissing her.

Author: deirdre_c

Author: castielsstarr

Summary: Dean always thought that Sam was going to be his, so he's surprised when he walks in to find Sam getting head from someone else. He gets possessive and lets Sam know who he's always belonged to.