[Fic] Heat of the Moment - Wincest NC17
Title: Heat of the Moment
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Wincest,ABO
Summary: Sam sets out to prove his father and brother wrong. He’s not some knot slut, unable to control himself simply because he’s in heat. He’s in complete control. At least, until it comes to his brother.
A/N: Written for the Wincest Square on my ABO bingo card! Thanks to BenLMoore for betaing this! All remaining mistakes are my own!
You can find it on ao3 here.
Everything was hot. The air in the room, pressing against his sweat-damp skin, the boxers clinging against him. Even the slick leaking from him, tacky and sweet smelling, was warm against the backs of his thighs. He felt as if the very blood pumping through his veins was laced with acid, burning him from the inside out.
Beside him, his ‘heat box’ sat untouched, brand new silicone knots and bottle of Alpha-Spunk: Artificial Cooling Cum just waiting for him to use. He had everything he needed to get through his heat - slightly uncomfortable, sure, and nowhere near as satisfying as a real Alpha would be, but safe.
Because at the very heart of it, that was the problem. No one thought he would be rational enough to make his own decisions, that he would be able to refuse an Alpha if he didn’t want them. Being in heat meant being susceptible, it meant walking out of the house with a neon flashing light of ‘claim me, I’m yours’ over his head.
Sam Winchester was far from weak.
The first few years of managing his heats alone, he was grateful for the care and attention both his father and brother, Dean, showed in getting him someplace where he would be comfortable. He never questioned it, never fought Dad when he helped Sam track his heats and made sure they were somewhere appropriate for the week it would come.
Rationally, Sam knew that both of them just cared and didn’t want to see him hurt. But save the four weeks a year Sam leaked slick without his control, he was on the front lines between the two of them, saving their asses just as much as they were covering his. Hunting rogues was dangerous, but neither Dad nor Dean ever questioned his abilities to make decisions in the heat of the moment.
Not unless the heat of the moment was, well, the moment of heat.
As he grew older and his ability to scent improved, he started to realize that not every Omega was locked inside a bedroom during their heat. In fact, he’d noticed them working in the diners and bars his family frequented, and most of them scoffed at Dean’s failed attempts at charming the pretty Omega waitresses and shot down countless Alphas at the bar tops. They were in control, despite what their bodies were doing.
It made Sam’s blood boil for an entirely different reason.
What was it about him that made Dean and Dad think he couldn’t take care of himself? That he would turn into a mindless sex drone, bent over and begging to be knotted? The entire idea was ridiculous. As much as Sam’s body craved to be filled and his very flesh sang out to be touched, he could and had been denying it for eight years.
He drummed his fingertips against his bare stomach, just the touch of his own skin against him making his stomach twist, his ass clench. He had done his research, of course, knew how it was that those Omegas in the workforce were able to make an eight or twelve hour shift work during their heat, and he was determined to prove Dean and Dad wrong.
After, of course, they were done killing him for sneaking out of the house in the first place.
Sam chuckled, the sudden jolting movement sending a spurt of slick from his body and he sighed as he rolled over, reaching down for the supplies. He stayed on his side as he slicked up the fake knot, bending his left knee as he reached back and slid the toy between his cheeks. He bit his bottom lip, sucking back the groan in his throat, and made quick work of finding his release. With his mind on his plan, it was easy to pretend he wasn’t thinking of the forbidden, that he didn’t come with Dean’s name on his lips.
Twenty minutes later and he was showered, dressed in loose clothing, and swinging his legs out over the window sill before slipping out into the night.
Arousal. It was the first scent he was hit with as he approached the parking lot of Jack n’ Jill’s Bar and it made him skid to a stop, heart thudding in his chest. For a moment, there was panic, the acrid scent of it tinging the sweet smell of his heat, and the four Alphas leaning against their motorcycles in the front of the building stopped their conversation and turned to him, concerned.
“Are you okay?” the oldest one asked, cocking his head to the side and looking over Sam’s shoulder in the darkness to find the source of Sam’s anxiety. Embarrassment flushed through him and he quickly swallowed down the panic as he realized the smell of arousal was just under the surface, tinting every Alpha’s scent.
“I - uh, yeah, I’m good,” Sam called back and forced a smile onto his lips. He shook out his hands, started walking forward again, and expected the increased scent as he neared the building.
It was strange. Although the scent of arousal wasn’t uncommon, especially not in bars, it was usually drowned out by the heavy cloud of smoke and alcohol, thick in the air. His inner Omega seemed to drag that particular scent forwards, clung to it like a lifeline, and where he normally would’ve had to get close and personal to truly scent another person, it was given to him readily now.
He could feel the Alphas’ eyes on him as he moved past and he determinedly kept his head high, looking straight ahead as if their gazes on his skin left him unaffected. In truth, their gazes made his blood sing for approval, the heat bubbling through his veins twisting in pleasure at the attention.
Sweat began to bead at the small of his back, the nape of neck, as soon as he stepped inside the crowded building. The lights were dim, lanterns on the wall yellowed with age. The only bright spot was the bar itself, and that was only due to the flourescent neon in various shapes dotted behind the bar and beside it. The space was packed, nearly every booth and table full of Alphas and Omegas alike, drinking and laughing.
Sam blew out a breath, the sudden swell of Alpha scent making him dizzy. There was nothing distinguishable in their scents, just strength and the low buzz of arousal, and after a few deep breaths, it settled over Sam’s skin. Though it was very much present, increasing the need within the steady burn of his body, he could control it.
He wasn’t some knot slut, begging to be bent over the nearest flat surface and claimed. Sam snorted under his breath -- John Winchester hated that term. The only time he’d ever grounded Dean was when he’d used it to describe an Omega as a joke, and it was made clear that was never to be said again. Yet, that was exactly what their dad was afraid of, wasn’t it? Of Sam desperate and begging for an Alpha?
A shoulder slammed into him, followed by a quickly slurred out ‘sorry’, and Sam was dragged from his thoughts by a pulse of slick dripping from him at the contact from the Alpha. He could scent himself now and he held his breath, eyes tearing around the room.
The people at the tables nearest to him looked up; he saw a few of the Alphas’ nostrils flare in the dim light, saw the sympathetic looks from the Omegas, but the gazes only lingered for a few moments before they went back to whatever they were doing before. Sam supposed that an Omega standing stock-still in the doorway of a bar wasn’t the epitome of sexy, but it was almost disappointing how wrong his brother and Dad had been.
He shifted, his damp underwear clinging to his skin, and pushed himself further into the crowd. He needed a drink, just something cool and something sweet to keep the rising heat and craving low in his gut at bay. The bar itself was relatively empty, plenty of stools open, and Sam slid in between two empty ones, nodding when the bartender held up a finger to tell him he’d be right there.
“Evening.”
Sam turned his head to the side where the voice came from and just barely held back from flinching when he came inches from an Alpha’s face. The man was smiling, eyes darting down to Sam’s mouth, his own tongue gliding across his lower lip.
Sam swallowed hard. Everything about the Alpha before him screamed at him to move, to run, but his body was reacting in an entirely different way. The Alpha’s nostrils flared, his smile widened, and despite the soft noise of protest, he leaned in closer.
“And how are you tonight?”
“Fine,” Sam replied, shifting back. The back of his thighs hit the barstool and he sat, hoping to slide over the back of it and put the stool between them. It was the wrong move.
The Alpha pushed in closer, standing between Sam’s legs, the heat from his body seemingly melting Sam to the seat. He felt his heartbeat quicken, a pulse of slick betraying him, and the Alpha breathed him in deep.
“Don’t,” Sam whispered and tried to pull back, but hands were suddenly on his thighs, fingertips digging into him hard. He could feel himself trembling and he hated it.
“I can smell you, Omega,” the Alpha said as he leaned in, still smiling and Sam wanted to hit him. “Smell how ripe you are, how ready. You need a good, hard knot, don’t you?”
“No,” Sam replied, shaking his head, “I’m good, thanks.”
“I can smell otherwise.”
The hands moved up his thighs, pushing his legs open, and the man stepped in closer. Sam gasped as heat flared through his veins, slick dripping from his hole, his heart pounding in his chest. This was what they had been warning him about.
He didn’t want this, but his body needed it. Sam had never felt more weak before in his entire life. He could feel himself shaking and he wanted to scream. He never should’ve put himself in a position where an Alpha could touch him.God, his father was right! And now -
“Pretty sure he told you no.”
The smell that hit him was like a punch to the gut; pure Alpha, citrus and cedar, a hint of motor oil twisted around home. It overwhelmed his senses moments before recognition of the voice flooded him. He gasped and found he could move, his entire body jerking away from the Alpha before him and leaning into the solid heat behind him.
“Pretty sure you weren’t invited to this party.” The Alpha sneered, his fingers trying to grip the fabric of Sam’s jeans and pull him forward.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice broke and he would’ve hated it, hated the way he sounded needy, breathless, if he wasn’t suddenly overwhelmed by the heat of his brother’s body and the comforting arm over his shoulder.
“Pretty sure this party is over,” Dean growled back, hand flat against the center of Sam’s chest, and Sam shuddered. The rest of the bar faded away and Sam closed his eyes, breathing in his brother’s scent.
The Alpha was still talking to Dean, but Sam couldn’t focus on the words. Every single one of his senses was focused on Dean. His heartbeat, strong a steady against Sam’s back, his breath warm and ghosting over Sam’s ear as he spoke, his scent so delicious…
“Dean!” Sam gasped out, trying to twist around in Dean’s arm. The heat was back, burning white hot through his veins, making his head swim with desire. He was completely lust-drunk, driven with need and want, and he heaved out a breath as his skin sang where Dean’s skin rested against his.
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean’s voice was soft against his ear and suddenly they were moving, Sam’s hips sliding off the back of the stool and his brother’s strong arms keeping him upright as he got his feet stable beneath him. “Let’s get you home.”
Home, the car, a back freakin’ alley -- Sam would go anywhere Dean asked.
He melted against Dean’s side, loose limbed and craving everything Dean had to offer. They made their way through the bar and Sam was vaguely aware of the stares they received as they passed from Alpha and Omega alike. He knew he looked a wreck -- flushed cheeks, sweat beaded on his temples, breathing hard and smelling like slick.
“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Sam heard himself repeating his brother’s name on a breathy sigh, his fingers clenching the fabric of Dean’s overshirt and pulling himself closer. He couldn’t come up with the words he wanted to say, couldn’t convey his need.
His brother was whispering something to him, his breath warm where it ghosted over the shell of Sam’s ear, but he couldn’t focus. Everything was given over to the heat, the acid making fire through his veins, and he wanted.
“Come on, Sam, get in the car.” Sam felt Dean’s hands, strong and warm against his back as he pushed him forward. His hand was gentle against his head as he pushed him down and suddenly the heat was gone, leaving Sam surrounded by the smell of home, sitting on the cold passenger seat of the Impala.
“Dean,” Sam gasped out again and watched his brother cross the front of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat. Dean’s eyes flicked over to him once and Sam couldn’t read the expression before he turned away and started up the car. Silence fell over them, the only sound coming from the engine rumbling and Sam’s own panting breaths as the heat coursed through his veins.
He couldn’t stand it. Everything around him was too much. The dampness in his jeans, the flush of his skin, the scent of his brother surrounding him completely. He needed, more than he could remember before, and it wasn’t enough.
Slowly, Sam slid across the seat until he was pressed against Dean’s side, his chin coming to rest against Dean’s arm. His brother glanced down at him before he pinned his eyes to the road. But Sam could scent the spike of Alpha arousal and it pushed him forward.
He reached for Dean’s leg, fingernails scratching against the denim, and relished in the shiver that racked his brother’s body. He could feel the heat from Dean through the fabric and he let his palm lay flat, fingers digging in slightly to press against the flexing muscle.
Dean let out a breath and Sam leaned in closer. He licked his lower lip, throwing all caution to the wind -- every doubt he’d ever had over the years, ever fleeting thought and moment he hoped for between them -- and whispered, “Dean, I want you.”
“Sammy,” Dean whispered, broken, his eyes falling closed. Sam watched as he swallowed hard, his throat constricting with the movement, his shoulders shuddering once before he was still.
“I do,” Sam pressed, letting out a puff of air against Dean’s skin before nosing against his throat. He breathed in deeply, sighing softly. “Always wanted you, Dean.”
Dean shuddered again, hands twisting against the steering wheel before he threw on the blinker and pulled off onto a side road. Sam felt his pulse leap. The silence was almost deafening as Dean drove a few minutes down into the woods, pulling over and killing the ignition. Then, Sam held his breath.
Outside of the Impala, crickets were starting up their song again and Sam’s fingers twitched against Dean’s thigh where they still pressed in. He had half a mind to be scared that Dean would reject him, leave him on the side of the road in disgust, but his brother’s scent betrayed him and soothed any lingering fear.
Dean wanted him just as badly.
“Get out of the car,” Dean whispered and Sam blinked once before scrambling to reply. He fumbled with the door handle, the cool metal slipping from the sweat on his fingers. The door was ripped open for him and Dean’s hands were suddenly in his shirt, hauling him out of the seat, supporting him as he found his legs.
The Impala’s metal was cold against his back as Dean slammed the door and pressed him against it, his brother’s mouth hot and wet as it found his own. Dean tasted as good as he smelled -- cinnamon gum and whiskey and Dean.
Sam gasped into his brother’s mouth as Dean’s fingers found his hips, their bodies becoming one line of heat and pressure. A fresh wave of slick slipped from his body and Dean pressed in closer, his arousal hot and hard against Sam’s own. Sam’s lips parted, Dean’s tongue slipping against his own, his mouth swallowing down Sam’s moan.
When he needed to breathe, Sam pulled back, letting his head fall against the roof of the Impala, gasping in the night air. Dean’s mouth moved down his throat, his brother’s fingers pressing beneath the hem of his t-shirt, skating along his heated skin.
“Dean, please, I need.”
“I know, Sammy,” Dean whispered, voice just as wrecked as Sam felt. Dean found his lips again, kissing him softly, almost too tender, and Sam would’ve complained if Dean’s fingers weren’t working their way into his jeans.
Sam’s hips shifted forward, allowing Dean to break the kiss and slide the fabric down his legs. Sam gasped as the night air met his skin and then Dean’s hands were there, smoothing their way up Sam’s bare thighs, knuckles teasing against the side of Sam’s cock.
“Fuck, Dean,” Sam whimpered, his entire body shivering, the heat in his veins making him dizzy. “Don’t tease.”
In response, Dean dropped to his knees, gravel crunching slightly as his boots scraped the earth. Sam looked down and groaned. His cock was red, precome beading at the tip, throbbing just inches from Dean’s lips. His brother was looking up at him, eyes lust blown but soft, and Sam couldn’t help but reach forward and caress his cheek.
“Tell me this is okay,” Dean whispered, his voice breaking. “Tell me you want this, that it’s not just your heat. Because so help me, Sam, I can get you in the car right now and take you home but if I start -- if I--” Dean shut his eyes and Sam’s hand moved from his cheek to his hair, tugging gently to get Dean to look at him once more.
“I want this, Dean. I want you.” Sam licked his lip, the admission spilling from his lips.“It’s always been you.”
Dean groaned, the sound sending a fresh wave of slick pulsing from Sam’s body. Sam opened his mouth, for what he couldn’t remember, just as Dean’s mouth enveloped the head of Sam’s cock in perfect wet heat. His head fell back with a clunk against the roof of the Impala, his hips jerking forward, cock slipping further into his brother’s mouth.
Everything was hot; every inch of Sam’s skin was sweating, overheated, begging for Dean’s touch. He whined, the sound almost too loud in the still of the night, and Dean’s hands moved up his thighs, pressing Sam back against the cool metal of the Impala door.
Sam gasped at the contrast, felt himself sinking against the relief as much as he fought the urge to fuck forward into Dean’s waiting mouth.
Dean worked his way around Sam’s cock, sucking and bobbing his head in a perfect rhythm as his hands continued pressing against Sam’s thighs, slipping to his sides, then around the back of his legs and moving up. Sam gasped, his eyes slamming shut as Dean’s palms skated up the globes of his ass, the fingers of his left hand searching.
When Dean pressed two of his fingers into Sam’s slick, tight heat, it felt like coming home.
“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Sam repeated his brother’s name on a breathless sigh, Dean’s moans muffled by Sam’s cock, his fingers pressing deeper and harder to get Sam open. “Fuck, Dean, please, I’m ready.”
Sam knew he was begging, knew he was dripping with want and need, but it didn’t matter because Dean was slipping his mouth free and standing up, his mouth finding Sam’s again and claiming him in a bruising kiss as he freed them from the rest of their clothing.
Sam shivered at the sudden cool air against his skin and then Dean broke away, grabbing Sam’s shoulders and pushing him forward. Sam stumbled slightly, Dean keeping him upright, until they reached the front of the car. He had a moment to prepare himself before Dean shoved him forward, Sam’s entire chest pressing down against the hood.
“Jesus, Dean, please!”
“I’ll take care of you, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was low, dangerous, and it made a fresh wave of slick leak from Sam’s body. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this…”
Sam opened his mouth to answer, to say he did know, of course he knew, because he, too, wanted this for so damn long! But Dean’s hands were spreading his ass cheeks, his cock pushing in inch by torturous inch.
Sam stretched his arms out, bracing himself on the hood and giving him the leverage he needed to fuck back onto his brother’s cock, causing Dean to groan, his head falling between Sam’s shoulder blades.
“Jesus, Sammy. You feel so fucking good,” he mouthed into Sam’s skin, his hands sliding from Sam’s ass to his hips and holding him in place as he withdrew and then snapped his hips forward. “So fucking wet for me, so fucking tight.”
Sam could only moan, hold himself up, and submit to the feelings of pleasure as Dean fucked into his body over and over again.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin, Sam’s squeaking with sweat as they slid up the metal hood, Dean’s grunts and groans of pleasure as he fucked into Sam harder and faster, filled the night air. Sam wasn’t even sure if there were any crickets about, he was completely surrounded by everything Dean.
He moaned as Dean’s fingers dug in a little harder on his hips, his breath hot against the back of his neck as Dean leaned forward.
“Do you want my knot, little brother?” he whispered and Sam cried out as Dean’s cock hit his prostate, sending a shockwave of pleasure through him. “Think you can come from this alone?”
“Yes, yes, please,” Sam gasped back, only half aware of what he was agreeing to. Anything, he would give Dean anything, as long as he could have this.
With renewed fervor, Dean rolled his hips once and then snapped them forward, thrusting harder into Sam, finding his prostate on nearly every pass. Sam could feel Dean’s knot starting to swell, catching on his rim with every pass, and he shoved his hips back as best as he could, fighting against the death grip Dean had on him.
“Come on, Sammy, come for me,” Dean groaned, lips pressing into the nap of Sam’s neck. His teeth scraped against the back of Sam’s throat, sending Sam over the edge. He cried out, his entire body spasming, his cock twitching where it was pressed between the car and his stomach, spurting long ropes of white up his chest.
Dean groaned, his knot swelling to completion as he fucked into Sam one last time, rolling his hips when they were locked together and emptying deep inside. One of Dean’s hands slipped to the side, keeping him from crushing Sam against the car, and he fell into Sam’s back, breathing heavy.
“Fuck,” he gasped, cock still twitching inside of Sam’s body.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, reaching back with his left arm to find the back of Dean’s neck and pull him closer. Dean moved easily, molding himself better against Sam’s back, his lips kissing the side of Sam’s neck. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Sammy,” Dean whispered back. “I just…”
“No, don’t over think this,” Sam cut him off. “I wanted this, I wanted you, Dean.”
It was silent for a moment, Sam focusing on the steady breathing coming from behind him, Dean’s pulse he could feel from where they were pressed together.
“Okay.” Dean shifted his weight back to his feet, both of his arms. He ran his hands up and down Sam’s sides, kissed the side of his throat again.
“I love you,” Sam whispered after a moment, the admission slipping free easily. He felt Dean’s hands still for just a moment, then a squeeze.
“I love you, too.”