Too Good To Be True
TITLE: Too Good To Be True
PAIRING: Dean/Sam
RATING: NC-17
WORDS: 2,893
WARNINGS: wincest (incest), weecest (underage [Sam 10, almost 11, Dean 15]), barebacking, bottom!Sam, first!time, virgin!Sam, experienced!Dean, age!kink, mentions of het, prostitution, rape, BDSM, and torture, implied John/Dean
SUMMARY: “This is what I’ve always wanted, always dreamed of, but I never imagined anything like this. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And I don’t know what to do. It’s better than anything I ever dreamed, ever imagined, hell, it’s better than anything I ever knew possible. Can this even be real? So fucking hot and tight and Sam and its all fucking mine…”
DISCLAIMER: Dean and Sam do not belong to me. They are the property of Eric Kripke and the CW. The story is all mine. I am simply borrowing the characters to play out my fantasies.
A/N 1: Yes, I do realize this reads like a PWP, and I assure you, that was completely intentional. But it is a series and it does have a plot, which will become clearer in later chapters. I hope you all stick around to find out!
A/N 2: This is my FIRST EVER fanfic, so please go easy on me. It is un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. I rushed a little towards the end so I apologize if it doesn’t flow as smoothly. Please R&R.
~ * ~
Too Good To Be True
Chapter 1
~ * ~
Dean nipped gently on Sam’s ear and breathed hotly into it. “I love you, Sammy.”
“I love you too, Dean” the young boy replied.
Their lips met in a passionate kiss, Dean’s mouth parting slightly to ghost his tongue across the seal of the young boy’s beautiful rose-colored lips. Sam opened his mouth obediently; moaning as he happily accepted the older boy’s tongue. Dean explored Sam eagerly, reveling in his taste. Sam attempted copy Dean’s actions and their tongues entwined, wrestling briefly before Dean succumbed and allowed Sam to take control of the kiss. The young boy was inexperience and had no finesse to his technique, but Dean felt a moan growing deep in his chest nonetheless.
Dean’s mind was racing as fast as his heart. Dean may be young but he has never been shy, especially about sex. No, that was Sam. Sam has always been the shy one. It’s plainly obvious to him that Sam is new at this, but this was far from his first kiss. Hell, he’s even had his fair share chicks. He’d never admit it, but he’s had more than his fair share of men as well, due to their constant desperation for money, but he didn’t like to think about that. ‘This is Sammy! My Sammy! My Sammy is kissing me!’ And despite all his past experience, all Dean could think about was how much better this kiss was than any he’d ever had, just for that sheer fact alone.
Dean gently caressed Sam’s soft sun kissed skin with his free hand, carefully tracing the outlines of muscle beginning to appear to soon on Sam’s long, lanky body with his slightly calloused fingers, his other hand already eagerly coaxing open the young boy’s small hole as Sam keened and mewled on his lube slick finger.
Sam threw his head back with a loud moan as Dean’s relentless hand found its way to his nipple at same moment he released his thrusting finger from the furled muscle, quickly replacing it with a second finger along side it. Dean grinned, pleased with the younger boy’s reaction, and dipped down to suckle at his pulse point while carefully scissoring his fingers; loosening the way to make room for the girth of his cock.
Dean felt Sam begin to relax around his fingers, and then Sam thrust his hips up, causing Dean’s finger’s to sink deeper into Sam’s still tight ass. He allowed the boy to fuck himself on Dean’s hand for a moment, reeling in the sight of it. Watching the slip-slide of his slick fingers disappearing into the taught pink circle of flesh, only to quickly appear again, and then suddenly the process repeated, over and over.
Dean grabbed Sam’s hip hard, stilling him, knowing he’d leave a bruise but not caring, and withdrew his fingers. He thrust back in sudden, hard, and deep with three fingers, drawing a raspy gasp to pass through Sam’s kiss swollen lips. He dragged his fingers back slowly, pulling them back so far that the tips are just brushing inside the rim, then thrusts in again, harder and deeper. He repeats the process a few times, expertly picking up the pace and gaining a steady rhythm.
The hand on Sam’s hip snaked its way up to his neglected nipple, rubbing it gently. Sam writhed and moaned beneath the older boy’s touch, his cock hard and leaking against him. A low, guttural “Dean!” erupted from the boy as Dean simultaneously pinched his hardened nub, bit down on his shoulder, and gave an especially hard and deep thrust.
Dean smirked and pulled away to tease - “Sensitive, are we Sammy?” - but the sight that befell him stopped him dead in his tracks. There was his Sammy, spread out before him - his tender young body lain out in sinful offering; his long arms stretching high and ending as fists in his too long and permanently messy light brown hair; his stunning hazel eyes half lidded and rolled into the back of his head; his angular jaw dropped open, stretching his swollen lips in a rounded ‘o’ fashion; sweat beading off his bronzed baby soft skin, flowing down his body like streams and carving paths around scars that don’t belong, coming to rest as pools in the hollows created by the muscles already developing in his abdomen; his abnormally long legs open wide in an effort to allow Dean access to his youthful virgin hole; Dean’s fingers fucking the innocence from that tight hole - from Sam; fingers preparing him for Dean to steal away every last bit of innocence he has left to give. A breathless “Sammy…” was all that Dean could muster.
Dean’s fingers, still buried knuckles deep, curled as he changed position and brushed over Sam’s prostate. Sam cried out, removing his hands from his hair in favor of digging them into the sheets. Dean felt the carved muscles in his toned abdomen flutter and then tense as the skin stretched taught around his balls. Heat was beginning to pool low in his belly and he didn’t think he could hold off much longer. Dean began pounding into Sam with a new gusto, sure to keep the same angle and hit that sweet spot with every plunge of his hand.
Sam was screaming in pleasure now, bucking his hips up hard into Dean’s hand in a poor attempt at matching Dean’s expert rhythm. Moments later Sam reached out and grabbed at Dean’s back, digging his nails in deep, dragging a hiss of pleasure-pain from the older boy.
“Dean…” Sam whined, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes; his pupils dilated from arousal and filled with love and passion. “De, please…want inside…need now…ready, De…please…” Hearing Sam call him by that name, the nickname Sam had given him as a child, but for some reason stopped using about a two years ago, almost pushed him over that edge. Sam sounded like his lungs had collapsed, but Dean didn’t care. Those were the words Dean had been waiting for, all the permission he needed, and he was happy to oblige because he knew that otherwise this would be over before it even began.
Dean carefully extracted his worn fingers from the gripping heat, much to Sam’s displeasure. He grabbed the lube from the headboard, slicked himself up, and had the blunt tip of his sizeable head pressing against Sam’s threshold so fast the young boy couldn’t even think to complain.
Dean leaned forward and touched his lips to Sam’s. “You ready?” he whispered softly, the barely audible words brushing across the silky smooth flesh as he laid a gentle kiss there. Dean prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that Sam would say yes, that he wouldn’t back out now, because he wouldn’t back down now, couldn’t back down now if he tried.
Sam reached up clumsily with his oversized paws and grasped Dean’s face, crushing their mouths together and kissing Dean something fierce. Then he pushed Dean’s face away, but just far enough to look him in the eye, keeping his hands clasped firmly about Dean’s jaw, framing him. “Jesus Christ, Dean! Yes! Just fucking do it already! God, De, please!”
Dean swallowed down his sigh of relief and released the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as he thanked the God he doesn’t believe in. He arched an eyebrow teasingly, “Language, Sammy. Or I might just have to…” Dean started. In one swift, fluid motion Dean threw Sam’s leg’s over his shoulders, grabbed his hips, lifted them off the bed, gave him a nice, hard smack on the ass, and dropped him back in place, all without ever letting his cockhead leave the warmth of the furled muscle aching to open up and let him in. “…Punish you.” Dean finished, feeling pleased with himself when the young boys weeping cock visibly twitched.
Sam let out a painful hiss when Dean pressed incessantly against his rim, his muscles stretching wide to accommodate all of Dean. The instant Dean’s head breached Sam’s entrance, he felt like he was going to explode. But Sam had let out a tiny, pained whimper. “Fuck,” Dean groaned as he practically bit through his lower lip “you ok Sammy?” It took everything in his power to resist thrusting in balls deep and start fucking Sam’s brains out, but he knew he had to go slow and take it easy on the kid. Dean didn’t care - for Sam it was worth it. “Dean…” Sam pleaded, and that was all the response Dean needed. “God Sammy,” Dean moaned, as he eased himself into the white-hot tightness that was Sam. Dean leaned forward, blinded by pleasure, and bit down hard on whatever flesh he could find as he sank down balls deep.
Dean can feel himself losing it as he bites down harder still. He hardly registers the taste of copper as his mind drifts off in thought. ‘This is what I’ve always wanted, always dreamed of, but I never imagined anything like this. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And I don’t know what to do. It’s better than anything I ever dreamed, ever imagined, hell, it’s better than anything I ever knew possible. Can this even be real? So fucking hot and tight and Sam and its all fucking mine…’
Sam is drawing in harsh, ragged breaths, gasping for air, and Dean realizes that he’s gotten dangerously close to the hollow of Sam’s collarbone with a vampire bite gone too far. Dean quickly pulls away, but one look into Sam’s eyes tells him that its ok, its always ok, it’ll always be ok. You’ll always be forgiven. He lowers himself tentatively against Sam’s chest, both of them moaning as Dean shifts inside of Sam. He tends to young boy’s bruised and bloodied chest, cleansing the wound with his tongue before pressing gentle, chaste kisses to every inch of abused flesh. Sam mewls under the attention, wriggling his hips and grabbing at Dean every which way, desperate for more.
But Dean still doesn’t know what to do. Thanks to his shitty circumstances, he’s never had experience with ‘gentle.’ Nobody who ever wanted him ever wanted ‘gentle.’ All they wanted was him on his hands and knees to be torn open in every sense of the word, or tied up somewhere with cuffs, bounds, and gags, forced to obey and punished whether he did so or not. Torture in so many ways that no one, not even Sam - especially not Sam - knows. The women who have come to him, though - God the women - those are the ones he’ll never forget. He’s run across one or two kinky-ass dominatrix, sure, but almost all the women who have come to him actually wanted to be tied up, wanted to punished, wanted to be tortured! He could handle being tortured for someone else’s pleasure; he’d seen far worse fates than that. But being the one doing the torturing? Inflicting pain on someone for their supposed pleasure? He didn’t think they really knew what they were asking for. He’d been in their position more times than you can count and he knew it was nothing but pain. So he taught himself to build up a wall to block out their screams. To block out their faces as they contorted in pain. A wall to close off the real from the make believe. A wall to hide who he is from that which he pretends to be. He hears people talk about ‘gentle’ all the time. They say that it’s what your first time is supposed to be like. It is meant to be special, your meant to be treated kind and ‘gentle,’ it’s not meant to hurt. Not like it did for Dean. Dean’s first time was…unconventional, to say the least. Hell, it wasn’t even consensual. Dean may not have liked it, but he needed to provide for his fucked up family, and in order to make money you needed experience. At least that’s what he had been told.
Dean breathed deeply, forcing his wall higher. He didn’t want to think about that right now, he couldn’t think about it. This was Sam’s first time and he wanted it to be different, special. He steeled himself against the pain and circled his hips, determined to be as gentle as he knew how and to focus solely on Sam’s pleasure.
“Please…” Sam begged, thrusting his hips. Dean drew back slowly, dragging over Sam’s prostate, and thrust back in quick and hard. Slow pull back, quick thrust in. Slow pull back, quick thrust in. Each and every time hitting that spot that drove Sam crazy. And Sam was losing it. “God damn it, Dean! Stop treating me like a fucking fragile girl and fuck me like you mean it!”
Dean paused, unsure of what to do yet again. He really didn’t want to hurt Sam…
“Dean!” Sam screamed, gripping Dean’s hips hard and pulling him down as he thrust up hard. “NOW!”
Dean made a quick decision and pulled back fast, quick to thrust back down hard and deep. Then again. And again. And he can’t control himself any more; sharp snap of his hips fucking hard into Sam, faster, deeper and harder than he’s ever fucked before; more so, even, than he ever remembers being fucked. And that is just too unbelievable to be real, because Sam is writhing underneath him, face contorted in pleasure, not pain. His rhythm became erratic. He was going to lose it, and fast.
Sam managed to move his hand between their bodies with out Dean noticing and began to jerk his self, fast and hard. Dean slapped his had away and took over, pushing Sam over the edge as he felt Sam come hard on a cry of his name. He watched as thick ropes coated his hands and Sam’s belly as he stroked Sam through the after shocks; felt Sam’s muscles flutter and clench unbelievably tight, pushing him over the edge a moment later. He thrust in deep, crying out his Sammy’s name and biting Sam’s neck as he came harder than ever before, buried deep inside of Sam. He continued thrusting slow and gentle, riding the after shocks.
After he came down from his high and his vision returned to normal, Dean looked down at Sam. Sam’s body had gone boneless beneath him and a blessed out expression graced his face as he smiled lazily up at Dean. “Sam…I…that was -”
*CRASH*
Dean woke with a start to find himself wet and flush against Sam’s back, his arms wrapped around the boy’s chest; his rapidly diminishing erection pressed hard into the cavern between the firm, supple ass cheeks of his ten, almost eleven, year old little brother.
Dean flung himself backwards, eyes wide with fear as he tumbled over the edge of the narrow double bed. “Fuck!” Dean yelled when he cracked his head on a clock, instantly cursing himself for it when he saw Sam shift in his sleep. ‘Thank God Sammy sleeps like the dead’ Dean thought gratefully as he picked the clock that belonged on the headboard up off the floor. “This must be the crash that woke me,” Dean muttered to himself as he checked the display.
Jan 24, 1994
4:25 AM
Dean stared. “Huh. Wadaya know.” The date had completely slipped his mind after that dream. He started having those kinds of dreams about a year ago. He freaked after the first few, convincing himself that he was merely turning into a pedophile because at least that was a few be a few notches below incest on the ‘fucked up’ scale. He even tried looking at kiddy porn in an attempt to erase the image of Sam from his mind. After about half a year of the dreams intensifying, he was forced to accept it for what it really was. He wanted his little brother. But this time it was different - vivid, more intimate. The things he did, the things he thought, it was all so…intense. It felt real. He knew it was too good to be true.
“What a way to start your fifteenth birthday,” he muttered bitterly.
Dean sighed and pushed the thought from his mind. He needed to get cleaned up. Dean fought his way out of the tangled heap of sheets that followed him on the way down and dragged himself off of the ground. Gathering up the sheets, he walked around to the other side of the bed to check on the young boy still lying there sound asleep. Sam was shivering slightly, cold from the sudden loss of covers and his big brother’s body heat. Dean looked down at his little brother as he replaced the sheets and tucked him in, smiling to himself at how peaceful and innocent he looked. But the conflict buried deep down in Dean’s heart shone through his eyes as he leaned down to place a kiss on Sam’s forehead and walked out of the bedroom.
~ * ~
TBC
PAIRING: Dean/Sam
RATING: NC-17
WORDS: 2,893
WARNINGS: wincest (incest), weecest (underage [Sam 10, almost 11, Dean 15]), barebacking, bottom!Sam, first!time, virgin!Sam, experienced!Dean, age!kink, mentions of het, prostitution, rape, BDSM, and torture, implied John/Dean
SUMMARY: “This is what I’ve always wanted, always dreamed of, but I never imagined anything like this. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And I don’t know what to do. It’s better than anything I ever dreamed, ever imagined, hell, it’s better than anything I ever knew possible. Can this even be real? So fucking hot and tight and Sam and its all fucking mine…”
DISCLAIMER: Dean and Sam do not belong to me. They are the property of Eric Kripke and the CW. The story is all mine. I am simply borrowing the characters to play out my fantasies.
A/N 1: Yes, I do realize this reads like a PWP, and I assure you, that was completely intentional. But it is a series and it does have a plot, which will become clearer in later chapters. I hope you all stick around to find out!
A/N 2: This is my FIRST EVER fanfic, so please go easy on me. It is un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. I rushed a little towards the end so I apologize if it doesn’t flow as smoothly. Please R&R.
~ * ~
Too Good To Be True
Chapter 1
~ * ~
Dean nipped gently on Sam’s ear and breathed hotly into it. “I love you, Sammy.”
“I love you too, Dean” the young boy replied.
Their lips met in a passionate kiss, Dean’s mouth parting slightly to ghost his tongue across the seal of the young boy’s beautiful rose-colored lips. Sam opened his mouth obediently; moaning as he happily accepted the older boy’s tongue. Dean explored Sam eagerly, reveling in his taste. Sam attempted copy Dean’s actions and their tongues entwined, wrestling briefly before Dean succumbed and allowed Sam to take control of the kiss. The young boy was inexperience and had no finesse to his technique, but Dean felt a moan growing deep in his chest nonetheless.
Dean’s mind was racing as fast as his heart. Dean may be young but he has never been shy, especially about sex. No, that was Sam. Sam has always been the shy one. It’s plainly obvious to him that Sam is new at this, but this was far from his first kiss. Hell, he’s even had his fair share chicks. He’d never admit it, but he’s had more than his fair share of men as well, due to their constant desperation for money, but he didn’t like to think about that. ‘This is Sammy! My Sammy! My Sammy is kissing me!’ And despite all his past experience, all Dean could think about was how much better this kiss was than any he’d ever had, just for that sheer fact alone.
Dean gently caressed Sam’s soft sun kissed skin with his free hand, carefully tracing the outlines of muscle beginning to appear to soon on Sam’s long, lanky body with his slightly calloused fingers, his other hand already eagerly coaxing open the young boy’s small hole as Sam keened and mewled on his lube slick finger.
Sam threw his head back with a loud moan as Dean’s relentless hand found its way to his nipple at same moment he released his thrusting finger from the furled muscle, quickly replacing it with a second finger along side it. Dean grinned, pleased with the younger boy’s reaction, and dipped down to suckle at his pulse point while carefully scissoring his fingers; loosening the way to make room for the girth of his cock.
Dean felt Sam begin to relax around his fingers, and then Sam thrust his hips up, causing Dean’s finger’s to sink deeper into Sam’s still tight ass. He allowed the boy to fuck himself on Dean’s hand for a moment, reeling in the sight of it. Watching the slip-slide of his slick fingers disappearing into the taught pink circle of flesh, only to quickly appear again, and then suddenly the process repeated, over and over.
Dean grabbed Sam’s hip hard, stilling him, knowing he’d leave a bruise but not caring, and withdrew his fingers. He thrust back in sudden, hard, and deep with three fingers, drawing a raspy gasp to pass through Sam’s kiss swollen lips. He dragged his fingers back slowly, pulling them back so far that the tips are just brushing inside the rim, then thrusts in again, harder and deeper. He repeats the process a few times, expertly picking up the pace and gaining a steady rhythm.
The hand on Sam’s hip snaked its way up to his neglected nipple, rubbing it gently. Sam writhed and moaned beneath the older boy’s touch, his cock hard and leaking against him. A low, guttural “Dean!” erupted from the boy as Dean simultaneously pinched his hardened nub, bit down on his shoulder, and gave an especially hard and deep thrust.
Dean smirked and pulled away to tease - “Sensitive, are we Sammy?” - but the sight that befell him stopped him dead in his tracks. There was his Sammy, spread out before him - his tender young body lain out in sinful offering; his long arms stretching high and ending as fists in his too long and permanently messy light brown hair; his stunning hazel eyes half lidded and rolled into the back of his head; his angular jaw dropped open, stretching his swollen lips in a rounded ‘o’ fashion; sweat beading off his bronzed baby soft skin, flowing down his body like streams and carving paths around scars that don’t belong, coming to rest as pools in the hollows created by the muscles already developing in his abdomen; his abnormally long legs open wide in an effort to allow Dean access to his youthful virgin hole; Dean’s fingers fucking the innocence from that tight hole - from Sam; fingers preparing him for Dean to steal away every last bit of innocence he has left to give. A breathless “Sammy…” was all that Dean could muster.
Dean’s fingers, still buried knuckles deep, curled as he changed position and brushed over Sam’s prostate. Sam cried out, removing his hands from his hair in favor of digging them into the sheets. Dean felt the carved muscles in his toned abdomen flutter and then tense as the skin stretched taught around his balls. Heat was beginning to pool low in his belly and he didn’t think he could hold off much longer. Dean began pounding into Sam with a new gusto, sure to keep the same angle and hit that sweet spot with every plunge of his hand.
Sam was screaming in pleasure now, bucking his hips up hard into Dean’s hand in a poor attempt at matching Dean’s expert rhythm. Moments later Sam reached out and grabbed at Dean’s back, digging his nails in deep, dragging a hiss of pleasure-pain from the older boy.
“Dean…” Sam whined, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes; his pupils dilated from arousal and filled with love and passion. “De, please…want inside…need now…ready, De…please…” Hearing Sam call him by that name, the nickname Sam had given him as a child, but for some reason stopped using about a two years ago, almost pushed him over that edge. Sam sounded like his lungs had collapsed, but Dean didn’t care. Those were the words Dean had been waiting for, all the permission he needed, and he was happy to oblige because he knew that otherwise this would be over before it even began.
Dean carefully extracted his worn fingers from the gripping heat, much to Sam’s displeasure. He grabbed the lube from the headboard, slicked himself up, and had the blunt tip of his sizeable head pressing against Sam’s threshold so fast the young boy couldn’t even think to complain.
Dean leaned forward and touched his lips to Sam’s. “You ready?” he whispered softly, the barely audible words brushing across the silky smooth flesh as he laid a gentle kiss there. Dean prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that Sam would say yes, that he wouldn’t back out now, because he wouldn’t back down now, couldn’t back down now if he tried.
Sam reached up clumsily with his oversized paws and grasped Dean’s face, crushing their mouths together and kissing Dean something fierce. Then he pushed Dean’s face away, but just far enough to look him in the eye, keeping his hands clasped firmly about Dean’s jaw, framing him. “Jesus Christ, Dean! Yes! Just fucking do it already! God, De, please!”
Dean swallowed down his sigh of relief and released the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as he thanked the God he doesn’t believe in. He arched an eyebrow teasingly, “Language, Sammy. Or I might just have to…” Dean started. In one swift, fluid motion Dean threw Sam’s leg’s over his shoulders, grabbed his hips, lifted them off the bed, gave him a nice, hard smack on the ass, and dropped him back in place, all without ever letting his cockhead leave the warmth of the furled muscle aching to open up and let him in. “…Punish you.” Dean finished, feeling pleased with himself when the young boys weeping cock visibly twitched.
Sam let out a painful hiss when Dean pressed incessantly against his rim, his muscles stretching wide to accommodate all of Dean. The instant Dean’s head breached Sam’s entrance, he felt like he was going to explode. But Sam had let out a tiny, pained whimper. “Fuck,” Dean groaned as he practically bit through his lower lip “you ok Sammy?” It took everything in his power to resist thrusting in balls deep and start fucking Sam’s brains out, but he knew he had to go slow and take it easy on the kid. Dean didn’t care - for Sam it was worth it. “Dean…” Sam pleaded, and that was all the response Dean needed. “God Sammy,” Dean moaned, as he eased himself into the white-hot tightness that was Sam. Dean leaned forward, blinded by pleasure, and bit down hard on whatever flesh he could find as he sank down balls deep.
Dean can feel himself losing it as he bites down harder still. He hardly registers the taste of copper as his mind drifts off in thought. ‘This is what I’ve always wanted, always dreamed of, but I never imagined anything like this. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And I don’t know what to do. It’s better than anything I ever dreamed, ever imagined, hell, it’s better than anything I ever knew possible. Can this even be real? So fucking hot and tight and Sam and its all fucking mine…’
Sam is drawing in harsh, ragged breaths, gasping for air, and Dean realizes that he’s gotten dangerously close to the hollow of Sam’s collarbone with a vampire bite gone too far. Dean quickly pulls away, but one look into Sam’s eyes tells him that its ok, its always ok, it’ll always be ok. You’ll always be forgiven. He lowers himself tentatively against Sam’s chest, both of them moaning as Dean shifts inside of Sam. He tends to young boy’s bruised and bloodied chest, cleansing the wound with his tongue before pressing gentle, chaste kisses to every inch of abused flesh. Sam mewls under the attention, wriggling his hips and grabbing at Dean every which way, desperate for more.
But Dean still doesn’t know what to do. Thanks to his shitty circumstances, he’s never had experience with ‘gentle.’ Nobody who ever wanted him ever wanted ‘gentle.’ All they wanted was him on his hands and knees to be torn open in every sense of the word, or tied up somewhere with cuffs, bounds, and gags, forced to obey and punished whether he did so or not. Torture in so many ways that no one, not even Sam - especially not Sam - knows. The women who have come to him, though - God the women - those are the ones he’ll never forget. He’s run across one or two kinky-ass dominatrix, sure, but almost all the women who have come to him actually wanted to be tied up, wanted to punished, wanted to be tortured! He could handle being tortured for someone else’s pleasure; he’d seen far worse fates than that. But being the one doing the torturing? Inflicting pain on someone for their supposed pleasure? He didn’t think they really knew what they were asking for. He’d been in their position more times than you can count and he knew it was nothing but pain. So he taught himself to build up a wall to block out their screams. To block out their faces as they contorted in pain. A wall to close off the real from the make believe. A wall to hide who he is from that which he pretends to be. He hears people talk about ‘gentle’ all the time. They say that it’s what your first time is supposed to be like. It is meant to be special, your meant to be treated kind and ‘gentle,’ it’s not meant to hurt. Not like it did for Dean. Dean’s first time was…unconventional, to say the least. Hell, it wasn’t even consensual. Dean may not have liked it, but he needed to provide for his fucked up family, and in order to make money you needed experience. At least that’s what he had been told.
Dean breathed deeply, forcing his wall higher. He didn’t want to think about that right now, he couldn’t think about it. This was Sam’s first time and he wanted it to be different, special. He steeled himself against the pain and circled his hips, determined to be as gentle as he knew how and to focus solely on Sam’s pleasure.
“Please…” Sam begged, thrusting his hips. Dean drew back slowly, dragging over Sam’s prostate, and thrust back in quick and hard. Slow pull back, quick thrust in. Slow pull back, quick thrust in. Each and every time hitting that spot that drove Sam crazy. And Sam was losing it. “God damn it, Dean! Stop treating me like a fucking fragile girl and fuck me like you mean it!”
Dean paused, unsure of what to do yet again. He really didn’t want to hurt Sam…
“Dean!” Sam screamed, gripping Dean’s hips hard and pulling him down as he thrust up hard. “NOW!”
Dean made a quick decision and pulled back fast, quick to thrust back down hard and deep. Then again. And again. And he can’t control himself any more; sharp snap of his hips fucking hard into Sam, faster, deeper and harder than he’s ever fucked before; more so, even, than he ever remembers being fucked. And that is just too unbelievable to be real, because Sam is writhing underneath him, face contorted in pleasure, not pain. His rhythm became erratic. He was going to lose it, and fast.
Sam managed to move his hand between their bodies with out Dean noticing and began to jerk his self, fast and hard. Dean slapped his had away and took over, pushing Sam over the edge as he felt Sam come hard on a cry of his name. He watched as thick ropes coated his hands and Sam’s belly as he stroked Sam through the after shocks; felt Sam’s muscles flutter and clench unbelievably tight, pushing him over the edge a moment later. He thrust in deep, crying out his Sammy’s name and biting Sam’s neck as he came harder than ever before, buried deep inside of Sam. He continued thrusting slow and gentle, riding the after shocks.
After he came down from his high and his vision returned to normal, Dean looked down at Sam. Sam’s body had gone boneless beneath him and a blessed out expression graced his face as he smiled lazily up at Dean. “Sam…I…that was -”
*CRASH*
Dean woke with a start to find himself wet and flush against Sam’s back, his arms wrapped around the boy’s chest; his rapidly diminishing erection pressed hard into the cavern between the firm, supple ass cheeks of his ten, almost eleven, year old little brother.
Dean flung himself backwards, eyes wide with fear as he tumbled over the edge of the narrow double bed. “Fuck!” Dean yelled when he cracked his head on a clock, instantly cursing himself for it when he saw Sam shift in his sleep. ‘Thank God Sammy sleeps like the dead’ Dean thought gratefully as he picked the clock that belonged on the headboard up off the floor. “This must be the crash that woke me,” Dean muttered to himself as he checked the display.
Jan 24, 1994
4:25 AM
Dean stared. “Huh. Wadaya know.” The date had completely slipped his mind after that dream. He started having those kinds of dreams about a year ago. He freaked after the first few, convincing himself that he was merely turning into a pedophile because at least that was a few be a few notches below incest on the ‘fucked up’ scale. He even tried looking at kiddy porn in an attempt to erase the image of Sam from his mind. After about half a year of the dreams intensifying, he was forced to accept it for what it really was. He wanted his little brother. But this time it was different - vivid, more intimate. The things he did, the things he thought, it was all so…intense. It felt real. He knew it was too good to be true.
“What a way to start your fifteenth birthday,” he muttered bitterly.
Dean sighed and pushed the thought from his mind. He needed to get cleaned up. Dean fought his way out of the tangled heap of sheets that followed him on the way down and dragged himself off of the ground. Gathering up the sheets, he walked around to the other side of the bed to check on the young boy still lying there sound asleep. Sam was shivering slightly, cold from the sudden loss of covers and his big brother’s body heat. Dean looked down at his little brother as he replaced the sheets and tucked him in, smiling to himself at how peaceful and innocent he looked. But the conflict buried deep down in Dean’s heart shone through his eyes as he leaned down to place a kiss on Sam’s forehead and walked out of the bedroom.
~ * ~
TBC