Five times Sam Saw His Brother Having Sex.
Title: Five times Sam Saw His Brother Having Sex.
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R for naughty words and sexytimes (nothing too explicit)
Warnings: Nothing really, there is some sex but if you didn't get that from the title you might be a bit too slow to read this.
Pairing(s): Sam, Dean/OFC, Dean/OMC, Dean/DMT, Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel
Summary: Basically does what it says on the tin.
Word Count: ~2500
Spoilers: Up to Heaven and Hell I guess.
Authors Notes: Not as porny as the title might imply. UnBeta-ed.
1. She was Michelle Berry and she was gorgeous, she had long red hair that shone auburn in the sun and big brown eyes that looked innocent until you got up close. She was the daughter of a hunter that Dean and Sam were staying with while their dads were off taking care of a coven of witches one state over. Dean and 'Chell were missing and Sam had been promised a trip to the library.
Sam rounded the back corner of the house just as she locked her legs around Dean's hips and dropped her head back against the siding of the house. She let out a low moan and Dean leaned forward to kiss it away from her. Sam stood frozen in place for a long moment before turning and fleeing back to the room he and Dean shared and stared out the window as the sun set, fighting back angry tears. He didn't react when the door opened some time later.
"Hey Sammy, if we leave now we can still make it to the library," said Dean, "you still wanna go?" Sam remained motionless, "Sammy?"
"Jack is never gonna let us stay here if you're sleeping with his daughter," whispered Sam, his voice thick with anger and hurt, "We might have been able to stay here for good and - be normal." Sam stood up, his anger not allowing him to stay sitting any longer.
Dean stood just inside the door, looking lost in the face of Sam's hurt. Brotherly annoyance he could handle, anger in a fight, even the rage that boiled constantly, just under the surface of Sam's calm facade whenever their father would bark out orders; but this hurt fueled fury directed solely at him had Dean taking a defensive step back.
"Sam, I-I'm... I didn't realize that you wanted that," stammered Dean, at a rare loss for words.
Sam shook his head and turned back to the window, tiny hands clenching into angry fists, "just leave me alone Dean."
Sam listened as Dean stood motionless before he turned to do as Sam asked. He let out a slow breath as he looked out over the backyard of the neighboring house watching as a pair of brothers a few years younger than he and Dean played basketball. A plumpish woman with dark hair came out to call them in, an affectionate smile on her face and he stared at the now empty yard until the darkness obscured it completely and finally let the tears that had been threatening fall freely.
2. When the letter from Stanford came Sam had panicked, snatching it from Dean's hand and demanding that he not tell their father, "please Dean". Dean had blinked once before pasting on a big toothy smile that covered all of his messier emotions, "sure thing Sammy, that's great! Always knew you were a giant geek." He'd picked up his keys and ruffled his brother's long hair, making noises about being out late and for Sam to not wait up before making his way out into the night.
Sam stood frozen by the door for a full minute and a half then sunk down into one of the rickety chairs at the little table smiling dopily at the letter. Accepted. He was getting out. Away from hunting, away from fighting and being a freak, away from Dad... And away from Dean. Sam couldn’t believe that Dean had taken it so well. He was sure that he'd threaten him or call Dad, or worse, give him that pleading look that Dean always got when Sam and Dad started fighting. Dean had had that look a lot lately. It wasn't that he didn't love his family, he did, but this life wasn't for him. He wanted to go to school, have friends that he didn't have to lie to, maybe even get married one day.
"Maybe I underestimated him," thought Sam. He'd been calm and congratulatory, he'd taken it well, thought Sam - way way too well. "He's going to do something stupid," realized Sam belatedly before grabbing his own keys and following his brother, hurrying to catch up.
The bar was generic; it was the same one that's in every college town from Oregon to Maine. Dark paneled walls, TV on brackets above the bar, pool table, dart board and a loose carding policy. By the time Sam arrives he expects to find Dean chatting up a petite, blonde waitress, sitting at the bar almost through his second or third beer or picking a fight with a group of frat guys. That's what Dean did when he needed to blow of steam but when he walks in his brother is nowhere to be seen, he does another quick scan of the room and when he again comes up empty he heads for the front and flags down the bartender.
"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you," he begins drawing a photo from his wallet, politeness get you miles further than direct questions and becoming a victim get's you further still, "I'm looking for my brother, he's..." he hesitates attempting to draw her in, so that she'll want to help, "he can get a little... rowdy." The threat of possible trouble puts the icing on the cake and she leans forward, examining the photo carefully.
"I know him, he's come in here before," she replies with a slight smile that quickly morphs into suspicion, "he's not in any trouble is he?"
Sam pastes on a worried look, "I hope not; has he been in here?"
She nods, "he was in here a little bit ago," she glances around the room, "I guess he left but I saw him talking to some guy not ten minutes ago."
"Do you know where he went?" Sam presses, she shakes her head apologetically but tells Sam that he left out the side door and wishes him luck. Sam hurries out the side door into the alley and gapes at what he sees. At the far end of the alley beside a dumpster is Dean, pained looking face pressed to the wall as some guy fucks into him. Sam steps forward ready to pull the guy off his brother when Dean grunts, "harder!" and lets out a fantastic moan when the guy complies.
Intent on going home and forgetting that this ever happened, Sam stumbles backwards; He was stupid to not trust Dean, he tells himself, even if he was going to do something stupid he knows how to take care of himself. In his haste he trips over his own feet. The nameless guy fucking his brother is completely unaware of him but as he glances up to make sure he hasn't been noticed he locks eyes with Dean. Dean's face is flushed, weather from embarrassment or arousal Sam can't tell. He stares at Sam for a long moment before letting his eyes flutter shut and grinding his ass against the man behind him with a loud moan. When he looks back at Sam there is a glint of defiance in his eye. Dean raises an eyebrow at Sam who turns and makes his way quickly out of the alley.
Later, Sam lays stiffly in bed, back turned to Dean as he lies equally stiffly in his own.
"Sammy? You still awake?" comes Dean's quiet voice.
Sam swallows around the lump in his throat before answering just as quietly, "yeah."
There is a long silence in which Sam wonders if his brother heard him before Dean asks, "We cool?"
Sam is stunned; he had thought his brother would be angry with him for intruding not worried that Sam would be the angry one. He felt himself relax slightly and felt like smacking himself for misjudging Dean again. No matter how well he thought he knew his brother he found that Dean never failed to surprise him. "Yeah, Dean, of course we're cool."
"Cool," comes the gruff reply. Sam feels the tension drain out of his body and begins to drift towards sleep when he hears his name again, "Hey, Sammy?"
"Yeah, Dean?" He replies, curious what else Dean has to say.
"Congratulations about Stanford. Really, you earned it."
Sam feels a huge grin break over his face, "thanks Dean."
3. "Double mint twins," Sam thinks leaning against the door that did little to muffle the sounds of the escapades taking place beyond it, "I thought he was joking." Sam shrugs to himself and returns to the car to wait for Dean to finish and join him.
4. The ground crunches loudly under Sam's boots as he makes his way towards the Impala. Dean and Anna had been gone for an awfully long time and he'd been sitting in the barn fretting over their absence for long enough. He doesn't see anyone at the car and begins to panic, his long stride quickening as fear shoots through him. Drawing nearer, he catches sight of something white tossed carelessly over the back of his seat then the top of Dean's head and then he realizes what he's seeing. Anger flares white and hot in his chest at Dean's inability to keep it in his pants for two seconds! How could he be so insane as to fuck a goddamned angel?
He stares for a long time, anger melting into shock and eventually into confusion. Why would Anna allow this? As insatiable as Dean is, he knew how to take no for an answer and if it really was a problem Anna wouldn't have let him anywhere near her. He took a cautious step forward, looking at Anna's face. She and Dean kiss passionately and when Dean pulls back she smiles at him, a single tear falling from her eye. Dean stills, reaching up to brush it away tenderly. Anna says something and smiles again. She wraps one hand around Dean's neck and after looking into his eyes for a long moment she pulls him back down for a long kiss. She grips the brand on his shoulder tightly and brakes the kiss, her head falling back against the seat, eyes shut tightly.
Sam turns away then, heading back to the barn. His stomach was churning with emotions that he can't explain but none of them he noted were the anger he'd felt earlier. He was certain, somehow, that what he'd witnessed hadn't been about Dean's libido, it was clearly more than that. He felt like he'd intruded on something special and private.
Sam sat down on the large table and stared around at the inside of the rundown barn. After a long moment he shook his head sadly, "Dean, man," he asked the air, "why do you always have to set yourself up for heartbreak?
5. They'd stopped the apocalypse. They'd saved the world, Sam grinned at that, couldn't keep the grin off his face in fact. They'd angered some very powerful demons, and some less powerful but still very obnoxious feds in the process but they'd both made it through alive and saved the world. All in all the Winchester boys were having a very good week. They'd been squatting in an abandoned house in Colorado for nearly two weeks, "letting things cool off," Dean had said, "and besides, if we don't deserve a vacation no one does." Sam didn't argue, couldn't really; neither of them were in fighting shape, hell, neither of them was really even in walking shape by most people's standards but Winchesters were nothing if not tough.
He let himself in and made his way towards the stairs, climbing them slowly so as to not aggravate any of his injuries or wake Dean in case he was sleeping. As he neared the top of the stairs Sam heard two gruff voices murmuring quietly to one another and slowed even further. Dean and Cas had been having what Sam had privately called 'therapy' whenever he would leave. During the battle Dean had charged into hell with nothing more than Ruby and Castiel's knives and a grimace and although it had saved them all Sam knew that Dean needed help to deal with all that he'd seen and done while there and probably before that as well and Cas had stepped up to take that mantle. The two of them often spoke in low voices, sitting or lying together in bed, their unintelligible voices lulling Sam to sleep through the houses thin walls more than once and without fail whenever Sam left he would be greeted by Castiel's presence upon his return.
Sam turned and sat on the uppermost landing, wanting to give Dean a little longer, it was the least he could do for the man, who was broken beyond Sam's ability to fix. He listened carefully, not able to make out any words but not attempting to strain his ears either; this was private in a way nothing had ever been between he and his brother and Sam would never dream of intruding. He heard a quiet gasp and a moment later a low groan, though he couldn't tell from whom. Brow creasing in concern he stood quietly and crept to the slightly open doorway, "just to check that he's okay," Sam told himself. The sight before him was unexpected but Sam couldn't say that he was entirely surprised.
Castiel lay between Dean’s legs kissing him slow and thorough, hips rocking slow and sure, one hand gripping the freshly rebranded hand print on his bicep. When Cas released Dean's lips Dean had a look of intense emotion on his face that Sam couldn't begin to recognize and wrapped his hand around Cas' neck to press their foreheads together almost immediately. Both of them were covered from the waist down by clean blue sheets that made the harsh bruises on Dean's body stand out starkly against his pale skin. He hadn't let Sam look at his injuries since he'd originally patched them up and Sam ached to see how bad they obviously still were. Dean slid his free hand up Cas' back, fingernails digging into the angel's flesh and a way that would have most assuredly broken the skin on anyone else. Cas leaned forward speaking soft, soothing words into his ear until he released his death grip and let his hand slide slowly up and down his lover's back.
Sam stepped back satisfied the Dean was alright and made his way silently down the hall to the room he had been sleeping in. Sam lay listening to the quiet sounds and after a while Dean and Castiel's low voices as they spoke to each other lulling Sam back to sleep with a dorky grin still pasted upon his face. "Why shouldn't I smile," he thought, "after all, we just saved the world."
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Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R for naughty words and sexytimes (nothing too explicit)
Warnings: Nothing really, there is some sex but if you didn't get that from the title you might be a bit too slow to read this.
Pairing(s): Sam, Dean/OFC, Dean/OMC, Dean/DMT, Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel
Summary: Basically does what it says on the tin.
Word Count: ~2500
Spoilers: Up to Heaven and Hell I guess.
Authors Notes: Not as porny as the title might imply. UnBeta-ed.
1. She was Michelle Berry and she was gorgeous, she had long red hair that shone auburn in the sun and big brown eyes that looked innocent until you got up close. She was the daughter of a hunter that Dean and Sam were staying with while their dads were off taking care of a coven of witches one state over. Dean and 'Chell were missing and Sam had been promised a trip to the library.
Sam rounded the back corner of the house just as she locked her legs around Dean's hips and dropped her head back against the siding of the house. She let out a low moan and Dean leaned forward to kiss it away from her. Sam stood frozen in place for a long moment before turning and fleeing back to the room he and Dean shared and stared out the window as the sun set, fighting back angry tears. He didn't react when the door opened some time later.
"Hey Sammy, if we leave now we can still make it to the library," said Dean, "you still wanna go?" Sam remained motionless, "Sammy?"
"Jack is never gonna let us stay here if you're sleeping with his daughter," whispered Sam, his voice thick with anger and hurt, "We might have been able to stay here for good and - be normal." Sam stood up, his anger not allowing him to stay sitting any longer.
Dean stood just inside the door, looking lost in the face of Sam's hurt. Brotherly annoyance he could handle, anger in a fight, even the rage that boiled constantly, just under the surface of Sam's calm facade whenever their father would bark out orders; but this hurt fueled fury directed solely at him had Dean taking a defensive step back.
"Sam, I-I'm... I didn't realize that you wanted that," stammered Dean, at a rare loss for words.
Sam shook his head and turned back to the window, tiny hands clenching into angry fists, "just leave me alone Dean."
Sam listened as Dean stood motionless before he turned to do as Sam asked. He let out a slow breath as he looked out over the backyard of the neighboring house watching as a pair of brothers a few years younger than he and Dean played basketball. A plumpish woman with dark hair came out to call them in, an affectionate smile on her face and he stared at the now empty yard until the darkness obscured it completely and finally let the tears that had been threatening fall freely.
2. When the letter from Stanford came Sam had panicked, snatching it from Dean's hand and demanding that he not tell their father, "please Dean". Dean had blinked once before pasting on a big toothy smile that covered all of his messier emotions, "sure thing Sammy, that's great! Always knew you were a giant geek." He'd picked up his keys and ruffled his brother's long hair, making noises about being out late and for Sam to not wait up before making his way out into the night.
Sam stood frozen by the door for a full minute and a half then sunk down into one of the rickety chairs at the little table smiling dopily at the letter. Accepted. He was getting out. Away from hunting, away from fighting and being a freak, away from Dad... And away from Dean. Sam couldn’t believe that Dean had taken it so well. He was sure that he'd threaten him or call Dad, or worse, give him that pleading look that Dean always got when Sam and Dad started fighting. Dean had had that look a lot lately. It wasn't that he didn't love his family, he did, but this life wasn't for him. He wanted to go to school, have friends that he didn't have to lie to, maybe even get married one day.
"Maybe I underestimated him," thought Sam. He'd been calm and congratulatory, he'd taken it well, thought Sam - way way too well. "He's going to do something stupid," realized Sam belatedly before grabbing his own keys and following his brother, hurrying to catch up.
The bar was generic; it was the same one that's in every college town from Oregon to Maine. Dark paneled walls, TV on brackets above the bar, pool table, dart board and a loose carding policy. By the time Sam arrives he expects to find Dean chatting up a petite, blonde waitress, sitting at the bar almost through his second or third beer or picking a fight with a group of frat guys. That's what Dean did when he needed to blow of steam but when he walks in his brother is nowhere to be seen, he does another quick scan of the room and when he again comes up empty he heads for the front and flags down the bartender.
"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you," he begins drawing a photo from his wallet, politeness get you miles further than direct questions and becoming a victim get's you further still, "I'm looking for my brother, he's..." he hesitates attempting to draw her in, so that she'll want to help, "he can get a little... rowdy." The threat of possible trouble puts the icing on the cake and she leans forward, examining the photo carefully.
"I know him, he's come in here before," she replies with a slight smile that quickly morphs into suspicion, "he's not in any trouble is he?"
Sam pastes on a worried look, "I hope not; has he been in here?"
She nods, "he was in here a little bit ago," she glances around the room, "I guess he left but I saw him talking to some guy not ten minutes ago."
"Do you know where he went?" Sam presses, she shakes her head apologetically but tells Sam that he left out the side door and wishes him luck. Sam hurries out the side door into the alley and gapes at what he sees. At the far end of the alley beside a dumpster is Dean, pained looking face pressed to the wall as some guy fucks into him. Sam steps forward ready to pull the guy off his brother when Dean grunts, "harder!" and lets out a fantastic moan when the guy complies.
Intent on going home and forgetting that this ever happened, Sam stumbles backwards; He was stupid to not trust Dean, he tells himself, even if he was going to do something stupid he knows how to take care of himself. In his haste he trips over his own feet. The nameless guy fucking his brother is completely unaware of him but as he glances up to make sure he hasn't been noticed he locks eyes with Dean. Dean's face is flushed, weather from embarrassment or arousal Sam can't tell. He stares at Sam for a long moment before letting his eyes flutter shut and grinding his ass against the man behind him with a loud moan. When he looks back at Sam there is a glint of defiance in his eye. Dean raises an eyebrow at Sam who turns and makes his way quickly out of the alley.
Later, Sam lays stiffly in bed, back turned to Dean as he lies equally stiffly in his own.
"Sammy? You still awake?" comes Dean's quiet voice.
Sam swallows around the lump in his throat before answering just as quietly, "yeah."
There is a long silence in which Sam wonders if his brother heard him before Dean asks, "We cool?"
Sam is stunned; he had thought his brother would be angry with him for intruding not worried that Sam would be the angry one. He felt himself relax slightly and felt like smacking himself for misjudging Dean again. No matter how well he thought he knew his brother he found that Dean never failed to surprise him. "Yeah, Dean, of course we're cool."
"Cool," comes the gruff reply. Sam feels the tension drain out of his body and begins to drift towards sleep when he hears his name again, "Hey, Sammy?"
"Yeah, Dean?" He replies, curious what else Dean has to say.
"Congratulations about Stanford. Really, you earned it."
Sam feels a huge grin break over his face, "thanks Dean."
3. "Double mint twins," Sam thinks leaning against the door that did little to muffle the sounds of the escapades taking place beyond it, "I thought he was joking." Sam shrugs to himself and returns to the car to wait for Dean to finish and join him.
4. The ground crunches loudly under Sam's boots as he makes his way towards the Impala. Dean and Anna had been gone for an awfully long time and he'd been sitting in the barn fretting over their absence for long enough. He doesn't see anyone at the car and begins to panic, his long stride quickening as fear shoots through him. Drawing nearer, he catches sight of something white tossed carelessly over the back of his seat then the top of Dean's head and then he realizes what he's seeing. Anger flares white and hot in his chest at Dean's inability to keep it in his pants for two seconds! How could he be so insane as to fuck a goddamned angel?
He stares for a long time, anger melting into shock and eventually into confusion. Why would Anna allow this? As insatiable as Dean is, he knew how to take no for an answer and if it really was a problem Anna wouldn't have let him anywhere near her. He took a cautious step forward, looking at Anna's face. She and Dean kiss passionately and when Dean pulls back she smiles at him, a single tear falling from her eye. Dean stills, reaching up to brush it away tenderly. Anna says something and smiles again. She wraps one hand around Dean's neck and after looking into his eyes for a long moment she pulls him back down for a long kiss. She grips the brand on his shoulder tightly and brakes the kiss, her head falling back against the seat, eyes shut tightly.
Sam turns away then, heading back to the barn. His stomach was churning with emotions that he can't explain but none of them he noted were the anger he'd felt earlier. He was certain, somehow, that what he'd witnessed hadn't been about Dean's libido, it was clearly more than that. He felt like he'd intruded on something special and private.
Sam sat down on the large table and stared around at the inside of the rundown barn. After a long moment he shook his head sadly, "Dean, man," he asked the air, "why do you always have to set yourself up for heartbreak?
5. They'd stopped the apocalypse. They'd saved the world, Sam grinned at that, couldn't keep the grin off his face in fact. They'd angered some very powerful demons, and some less powerful but still very obnoxious feds in the process but they'd both made it through alive and saved the world. All in all the Winchester boys were having a very good week. They'd been squatting in an abandoned house in Colorado for nearly two weeks, "letting things cool off," Dean had said, "and besides, if we don't deserve a vacation no one does." Sam didn't argue, couldn't really; neither of them were in fighting shape, hell, neither of them was really even in walking shape by most people's standards but Winchesters were nothing if not tough.
He let himself in and made his way towards the stairs, climbing them slowly so as to not aggravate any of his injuries or wake Dean in case he was sleeping. As he neared the top of the stairs Sam heard two gruff voices murmuring quietly to one another and slowed even further. Dean and Cas had been having what Sam had privately called 'therapy' whenever he would leave. During the battle Dean had charged into hell with nothing more than Ruby and Castiel's knives and a grimace and although it had saved them all Sam knew that Dean needed help to deal with all that he'd seen and done while there and probably before that as well and Cas had stepped up to take that mantle. The two of them often spoke in low voices, sitting or lying together in bed, their unintelligible voices lulling Sam to sleep through the houses thin walls more than once and without fail whenever Sam left he would be greeted by Castiel's presence upon his return.
Sam turned and sat on the uppermost landing, wanting to give Dean a little longer, it was the least he could do for the man, who was broken beyond Sam's ability to fix. He listened carefully, not able to make out any words but not attempting to strain his ears either; this was private in a way nothing had ever been between he and his brother and Sam would never dream of intruding. He heard a quiet gasp and a moment later a low groan, though he couldn't tell from whom. Brow creasing in concern he stood quietly and crept to the slightly open doorway, "just to check that he's okay," Sam told himself. The sight before him was unexpected but Sam couldn't say that he was entirely surprised.
Castiel lay between Dean’s legs kissing him slow and thorough, hips rocking slow and sure, one hand gripping the freshly rebranded hand print on his bicep. When Cas released Dean's lips Dean had a look of intense emotion on his face that Sam couldn't begin to recognize and wrapped his hand around Cas' neck to press their foreheads together almost immediately. Both of them were covered from the waist down by clean blue sheets that made the harsh bruises on Dean's body stand out starkly against his pale skin. He hadn't let Sam look at his injuries since he'd originally patched them up and Sam ached to see how bad they obviously still were. Dean slid his free hand up Cas' back, fingernails digging into the angel's flesh and a way that would have most assuredly broken the skin on anyone else. Cas leaned forward speaking soft, soothing words into his ear until he released his death grip and let his hand slide slowly up and down his lover's back.
Sam stepped back satisfied the Dean was alright and made his way silently down the hall to the room he had been sleeping in. Sam lay listening to the quiet sounds and after a while Dean and Castiel's low voices as they spoke to each other lulling Sam back to sleep with a dorky grin still pasted upon his face. "Why shouldn't I smile," he thought, "after all, we just saved the world."
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