Supernatural: Being Sam Winchester
Title: Being Sam Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Genre: Bodyswap, Smut
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 5,310
Author’s Note: Like many others, I was super psyched when I heard there was going to be a body swap episode. Jensen playing Sam! Jared playing Dean! And all the canon porn! And then the episode aired and it was just…no and, to add insult to injury, Dean finally did the team exorcism I’ve been dreaming of since Sin City (I wish I was exaggerating) and it wasn’t with Sam. When I ranted about how something needed to be done about this, my flist agreed. Months late, here it is! Great thanks go to cacklesthewitch for the beta and to scorpiod1 for bullying my ass into getting this started. Written for sparklybee for help_haiti as my second contribution to incestuous fictictactoe, claiming the “The writing is on the wall” square. HERE’S TO WINCEST’S INEVITABLE TRIUMPH OVER TWINCEST, FOR TRULY IT IS THE GREATEST INCESTUOUS SHIP OF ALL TIME!! Tag, you’re it, devil bug. ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: Not a coda so much as a passive aggressive response to 05x12 - Swap Meat: Sam and Dean switch bodies. Porn happens. Set after 05x19 - Hammer of the Gods.
Dean watches Sam’s eyes go wide and has to fight the urge to snatch the phone away from him. Dean hates getting information secondhand, but everyone seems to agree that Sam is the more reliable Winchester when it comes to relaying information. Dean will deny it until the day he dies, but he sees their point.
Sam hangs up and gives Dean a lopsided smile that doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.
“You’re not going to like this,” Sam says, as if Dean likes any of the news they’ve gotten recently.
It’s been a little over a week since Dean got his brother back-really got him back and, between the hotel that turned out to be deeper shit than they get into on a working week and Bobby’s frantic messages, Dean has given up on any delusions he had about taking a night or two off. Dean’s been keeping Sam at arm’s length for months and it’s now, when he’s finally seen his mistake and Sam has forgiven him as if nothing ever happened, that they suddenly have more on their plates than before. Dean’s shoulders slump as he pictures all of his plans for the night flying swiftly out of the window, but he’s got a job to do and Dean’s used to not getting his way by now.
“Lay it on me.”
Sam looks sorry. “Dean, I know you wanted to-“
“The job, Sam.”
“Yeah, alright. We have to turn around. We, uh, we made some big mistakes in the last town we stopped in.”
“We were hardly there for an hour.”
“Yeah, but we were distracted, if you recall.”
Dean smirks, thinking of Sam pushed against the bathroom in that diner, moaning and promising he would get Dean back once they found a room for the night.
“Well, if you could keep your hands to yourself for five minutes.”
“Right. That was all my idea.”
Dean scoffs. “Always trying to take credit for my genius, Sammy.”
Sam huffs out a laugh and then shakes the hair out of his face. “Focus. We’re having a serious conversation, remember? Hunting? The Apocalypse?”
Dean swallows and looks away, annoyed that Sam ruined the moment. For ten seconds it was just them again, but ten seconds is longer than Dean is allowed when the world is ending.
“We messed around in a diner, so what? Is Bobby working for Focus on the Family now or something?”
“No, but apparently we’ve had a demon on our trail since we ditched Lucifer in that hotel.”
“Oh, fantastic.”
“And, here’s where it gets really fun-the demon got hair samples or something while we…” Sam coughs. “Had our heads turned.”
“You’re such a lady, Samantha. Thank you for not saying ‘groped each other under the table’ in polite company.” Sam chooses to ignore Dean until Dean makes it clear he’s ready to pay attention. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do we care if a demon has our DNA samples? If it wants to hurt us, it doesn’t need hair dolls to do it.”
“It’s not that simple. Bobby says one of his psychic friends got in touch with him, overheard something while listening in on some demons. Apparently Bobby’s got the entire psychic world taking notes on anything about the Winchester brothers and reporting it back to him.”
“He would.”
“He thinks this demon has a plan.”
“Don’t they all nowadays?”
“The demon seems to be planning to use witch craft to recreate what those kids did to me back in Housatonic.”
“Fuck.” Dean slams on the brakes and turns to Sam, his face furious. “It’s about to steal your fucking body and you didn’t feel that was urgent enough to cut through the bullshit?”
“Well, I tried and you wanted to talk about bathroom blow jobs-“
“Shut up, Sam. What else?”
“According to Bobby, it talked to the demon you guys exorcised that night and thought it was a great idea. Only now it’s going to change both of our bodies so that you can’t come to my rescue.”
“I’d like to see it try and stop me,” Dean growls, already putting the car in reverse and gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.
“Whoever it swaps our bodies with, it’s not going to be good, man; worse than a scrawny teenager. I’m thinking ninety-year-olds or something.”
Dean nods and pushes harder on the gas. They’ve been on the road for three hours since leaving that town. Dean intends to make that demon his bitch in the next two.
_______________________________________________________________
When they get to the town, it only takes about thirty minutes for Sam to track the thing down. Dean doesn’t ask how Sam knew where it would be; half of him knows the answer and the other half doesn’t want to know. Dean’s just content to take small favors, because the demon is one sick son of a bitch and what they find when they peek in on its operation is worse than expected.
Sam and Dean manage to sneak into the house but they can’t give away their cover until they have a plan, so they watch as the demon prepares the potion. It’s riding a nice-looking middle-aged lady and tied to the dining room chairs are what Dean figures must be the demon’s meatsuit’s daughters: golden haired twins, they can’t be older than five. They don’t look as scared as Dean would expect, so he’s pretty sure the demon hasn’t hurt them too much, but they seem shaken up enough that it won’t take too much to convince them not to listen to what mommy says.
It’s not more than Dean should expect, but it still turns his stomach inside out. Those little girls would say yes in an instant in Sam and Dean’s bodies and Sam and Dean would almost be too easy to kill, not even worth the trouble.
Dean pulls out the colt, ready to shoot the hellbitch and ensure those little girls are okay, but Sam pulls him back.
“What the hell, Sam?” Dean does his best to whisper.
“Calm down, Dean. Pay attention, okay? Look at the rope she’s using. That’s not going to give until the demon gives the say-so. If we waste her, they’re stuck.”
“So what, we’re gonna let her do it?”
“No.” Sam makes his ‘why isn’t everything as obvious to you as it is to me?’ face and continues, “She’s got to undo them eventually, right? But she probably won’t until she’s sure they’ve had the potion.”
Dean nods.
“So, when she sets it down, we create a distraction and while she’s searching it out, we go in there and drink it ourselves.”
“That’s an awful idea.”
“It’s the only way that shit’s going to disappear that won’t tip her off or get those girls in way over their heads.”
“Why don’t we dump it?”
“We won’t have time to dump all of it; she made more than two cups. If we drink it and get the girls to be quiet about it, she’ll loosen the ties and then we can close in on her.”
“But what if we get the wrong cup?”
“Better we switch than them.” Dean nods, seeing the plain logic in Sam’s plan and, frankly, a little impressed he had time to think all this out.
They turn their attention back to the scene. The demon is setting the drinks down in front of the children and letting their hands go free so they can drink it. She coos like a mother, but the threat is clear in her tone and Dean just hardly manages to knock something over before she can make sure they swallow it. He dodges into the shadows as the demon follows the noise and makes for the kitchen. Sam’s already swallowed down a glass when he gets there and he’s whispering to the little girls that it’s going to be alright, that they just need to tell mommy they drank it and not mention him. Dean feels relief wash over him when they nod instead of asking questions and he chugs the remaining cup. It tastes familiar and surprisingly good and they finish with plenty of time to spare for him and Sam to get back to their hiding place.
“Did you drink your juice like good little girls?” The demon says when she returns, voice revoltingly sweet.
One of the girls lets out a frightened sound and turns away, but the other nods, the look in her eyes as convincing as possible through all that fear.
“Good! Why don’t you go play now?” Her eyes slide to black. “Mommy will have a talk with you later.”
Once the kids are out of the room, Sam jumps out, knife flashing, and knicks the demon on the arm before it knows what’s coming. Her eyes go wide.
“You’ve haven’t got much time to kill me before you’re one of them,” it laughs. “And you’ve got no weapon.”
Sam’s knife floats into her hand and Sam’s up against the wall in seconds.
Dean calls her attention but she’s too fast and before he can squeeze the trigger, the colt is flying into her empty hand.
She advances on Dean, a taunting expression overtaking her features before Sam catches his breath and begins an exorcism. It’s not one Dean is terribly familiar with, but Dean trusts Sam to know what he’s doing.
It’s perfectly acceptable logic, until she turns on Sam. Dean sees the moment she cuts off his air supply. He keeps the rhythm of Latin going for as long as he can, but Dean knows he’ll have to jump in soon. He racks his brain and reminds himself that Sam is in trouble. Sam needs him. Somehow, Dean finds the words. He knows, logically, that it’s something his bones remember after hearing too many times, even if his mouth has no idea what it’s saying, but a part of him feels Sam telling him, even from across the room. Even when Sam is nearly passed out from lack of oxygen.
The demon freezes as the words fall sloppily from Dean’s lips and it turns to him. He feels it trying to choke him, too, but it’s not strong enough to take Sam and still have the juice to do much else. Dean does his best to give her a smart ass smile while stumbling through the ritual, hoping to draw her anger towards him and away from Sam. It works. Dean’s body flies, hits the wall hard, and he hears his brother gasping for air across the room.
Sam picks up where Dean’s words failed and he’s able to go much faster than Dean, more confident in what he’s saying and ready to anticipate what’s next. The demon stops and does its best to just hold on, so Dean is able to find his feet and join Sam, making the words more powerful with the force of two voices instead of one. They watch the demon grudgingly let go of the body as it’s forced down, through the floor, back to where it belongs. The woman’s body crumples to the floor.
“Is she dead?” Dean hears a terrified little voice ask and his heart drops as he realizes the girls were watching from the doorway.
Sam runs and takes their mother into his arms, checking her pulse. For a few seconds he looks concerned, but eventually he turns and smiles at Dean.
“She’s alive.”
A few seconds later, a cough leaves the woman’s mouth and she sits up with a jolt.
“What did I do, oh God? Where are-?”
“They’re fine, ma’am. Your kids are fine and you’re going to be fine.”
She looks at Sam confused, but Dean watches her body relax when one of the girls cries out and runs to her side. She takes both of her daughters into her arms and gives Sam and Dean a questioningly glance. They spend another hour of their “night off” explaining as little as they can get away with.
_______________________________________________________________
Once they find a motel and get a room, they’re both too tired to do much else. They don’t even talk about the hunt. They strip down to their boxers and, still drenched in sweat, they curl into each other and fall asleep.
Dean wakes up the next morning with an ache in his body that he’s grown used to over the years. He lets go of Sam, figures they must have shifted places in the night, and heads for the bathroom. Despite having known the risk of drinking the potions, Dean’s sleep-addled brain is thrown off completely when he goes to the sink to wash his face and looks into the mirror to find water dripping off his brother’s features. He makes a tiny noise of surprise before the why hits him and he just stares at himself, eyes wide and unblinking.
Once he’s processed it, he opens the door to the room to see if he woke Sam up. Dean sees his own face smiling from the bed, but Sam is out cold. He closes the door and takes a few deep breaths before looking in the mirror again.
His eyes meet his brother’s chest and Dean takes a few seconds to appreciate it. He knows better, runs through a list of all the things he should be doing, but he’s completely incapable of stopping his hand as it moves down his-Sam’s-body. His fingers curl around Sam’s cock. It’s not the first time he’s touched it and the thrill that runs over his body isn’t really different from the way it always feels when Dean touches himself. But now, Dean can’t take his eyes off the mirror, off the filthy smirk he’s seen on his brother’s face so many times, and he fucks into his fist with a dirty fascination, loving the thought that this is what Sam feels when he does this and when Dean does it for him. Dean has to bite his lips to try to contain what that does to him-he’s touching Sam and he can feel every stroke.
Just as Dean’s about to shoot, there’s an impatient knock on the door.
“Dude, seriously, is that what we do first thing in the morning now? What are you, twelve? I need to take a piss.”
Dean is about to shout something smart back when he hears Sam’s laughter-or, rather, Sam’s laughter through a deeper voice-outside the door.
“Are you me?” he asks. Dean washes the come off his hand and goes to open the door, smiling at his brother and wondering if he looks as perfect as Sam does when he smiles.
“Only us,” Sam says, shaking his head as if it’s a perfectly normal morning and taking Dean’s place in the bathroom.
Dean waits at the end of the bed for Sam to come out. He hears Sam go through his morning routine and wonders if he should be getting dressed.
“We should pack up and find someone to fix this for us, huh?” Dean asks once Sam’s finally done primping himself for the day.
Sam actually looks shocked by Dean’s suggestion. “What, are you crazy?” He walks up to where Dean is on the bed and leans in. “What about that day off we’ve been looking for? Nobody’s called yet. There’s no hunt, no urgency, just you and me. We’ll fix this tomorrow.”
Sam tries to take Dean’s lips but Dean pushes him away. It makes sense to him that Sam would want this body more than Dean’s, but Dean can’t help the way it breaks his heart.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird…I mean, like this?”
“You’re right,” Sam gasps, making an exaggerated face. “These bodies are probably related.”
Sam laughs and even Dean can’t help smiling, but he still turns his face when his brother closes in again.
“I just really don’t want to right now,” Dean says.
Sam looks stung and Dean wants to sooth him, kiss away the frown, except that those are his lips and Dean can see that it’s Sam in the way he holds himself and the expressions he makes, but he can’t shake how weird it is.
“How about breakfast, Dean?” Sam asks, trying to keep his tone light. It sounds too much like the voice Dean puts on when he’s trying to placate Sam. His skin crawls.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean spends the day in a perpetual state of confusion. They have breakfast in the same diner they’d so enjoyed the first time they passed through the town. Sam is just as hands on as before, except Dean squirms away from his touch until Sam moves to sit across from Dean on the other side of the booth. He watches his brother closely as he eats, as they swap bullshit, as Sam laughs.
Dean has known since he was 15 years old that he is a good looking guy. He knows women are attracted to him, he gets why. But there’s never been anything in Dean’s face that he’s liked looking at. Watching Sam almost makes Dean feel like he’s beautiful. Sam smiles and there’s a warm curl in his belly when Sam’s eyes fold into wrinkles, a feeling Dean usually only associates with dimples.
He knows Sam sees him staring and understands what his looks mean, but he doesn’t say anything, respecting Dean’s earlier insistence that they not do anything in this state. Dean isn’t sure if he’s thankful for that or annoyed.
By the time evening rolls around, Dean’s shaking. Every time he looks at Sam he gets the same surge of want and need that he’s gotten so used to, but he hates it, too. He hates seeing his baby brother’s expression play out wrong, seeing that Sam doesn’t know how to do the things he does as well as he usually does. It’s not completely different: Sam will always knows how to make sour faces, whether he’s himself or Dean or a kitten and Dean learns that despite what he’s believed for years, his body is capable of making puppy dog eyes. Apparently, that’s all Sam, because they imitate each other in the mirror for forty-five minutes before it gets old and Dean doesn’t once manage to sculpt Sam’s face into the pathetic, pleading look that’s been such a pain in Dean’s ass his whole life.
Dean gets into bed after that, ready to spend the rest of the night watching TV or even turning in early just because they can, but Sam’s as stubborn as ever and all the fight goes out of Dean when Sam climbs into bed, every inch of him naked.
“Sam, I thought we agreed-“
“You agreed,” Sam says. He pushes himself against Dean’s back and whispers low and hungry into Dean’s ear. “I want you, Dean. I want you and I know you want me, too. Because…” Sam’s voice falters. “You want me because you’ll always want me. You have to.”
Dean hears how sad his brother is and turns to face him, grabbing onto Sam with those big hands that have touched Dean everywhere and finally giving in to the urge to kiss him.
Sam’s lips are much softer than Dean’s used to and he pulls away instinctively. He can feel Sam preparing to bitch him out and puts one long finger over his lips.
“Sorry, I just…it felt wrong for a second. Almost like I was…” Dean hopes he isn’t as red as he feels. “Like I was cheating on you, Sam.”
Sam barks out a laugh and, when his lips crash into Dean’s, he doesn’t give Dean the chance to think about it or pull back before he’s licking into Dean’s mouth hungrily, starving for something they haven’t shared since before they had to worry about Lucifer or the Apocalypse.
“Dean,” Sam says in the fucked-out voice Dean is used to hearing when he’s around Sam, but not like this. “I want you to fuck me.”
Dean’s reply is a moan, it’s all he can manage.
Sam smiles and moves to the side of the bed, pulling lube and a condom out of his duffle. He holds them out to Dean and Dean snatches them both, tossing them on the unused side of the bed and flipping his little-now also smaller-brother onto his back.
It’s Sam’s turn to moan and Dean wastes no time getting the bottle of lube back and dripping some onto his fingers. Sam watches Dean’s actions with a starved look, licking his lips and spreading his legs wide open when Dean draws closer, preparing to open him up.
Dean feels his dick twitch demandingly as he looks at his brother and thinks of how good it’s going to feel for Sam to have those long, slender digits inside of him. Dean presses an index finger against Sam’s hole, he sees his brother tighten up and leans down, whispering encouragement against Sam’s neck. Sam nods and Dean pushes into him.
Sam closes his eyes, makes a content sound, and raises his hips just enough to make sure Dean is knuckle-deep inside of him.
“More,” he says.
“Sam, I just star-”
“More.” He groans it out, the word lasts too long and Dean can’t stand the need and desperation he hears. He pulls out and reinserts two fingers, scissoring Sam with urgency.
It’s not the same as when he’s doing this to Sam’s body, it takes a few seconds for Dean to get his bearings and push against Sam’s sweet spot. Sam gasps and digs his fingers into Dean’s back until Dean thinks he’ll explode if he doesn’t get to fuck his little brother soon.
“Are you ready for-?”
“God, yeah, Dean. Give me that big cock. Want you to stuff me so full of it.”
Dean would have to laugh if it weren’t so fucking hot, because Sam is begging for his own cock and Dean can’t blame him.
Dean pulls away and tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He disposes of his boxers just as carelessly and makes an embarrassing show of putting on the condom. He’s so turned on he can’t focus and he drops the damn thing twice before he manages to get the packet open and slide it over himself-over Sam. Sam’s already waiting with the bottle of lube in his hand and he gets Dean slicked up as soon as he’s ready. Sam even takes a few seconds to keep stroking Dean, just touching his own body. Dean doesn’t think there’s anything hotter than Sam touching himself like that, he wants to let him keep going forever, but he has to stop Sam or he knows he’ll come without ever getting a chance to fuck him.
Sam pouts for only a moment when Dean tells him to stop touching and then he lets his body fall back to the bed.
“Come on, big brother,” Sam says, eyes fixed on Dean’s erection and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever heard Sam make a dirtier joke. He surges forward with a growl and penetrates his brother so quickly it’s got to be painful.
Sam cries out and Dean-Dean doesn’t know what it is. Dean isn’t rough, not with Sam, not even when he’s fucking him fast and desperate. Now Sam’s making hurt noises and Dean can’t slow down, can’t bring himself to stop and make sure his brother’s alright. It’s like Sam’s body is calling the shots and he can’t fuck Sam the way he usually does. His hips thrust forward mechanically and Sam is so tight and Dean shivers. He knows better than he knows anything how good it feels to get fucked by Sam like this.
Sam’s falling apart under him, head thrown back, alternating between moaning and saying the filthiest things Dean’s ever heard. Dean smiles, glad to know his brother’s big mouth will always be a part of him. Dean usually teases Sam about how much he talks during sex, just like Sam teases him for the way his brain shuts down and he can’t form any words when he’s with Sam, but right now it’s a comfort. It’s a reminder that it’s his baby brother in there.
Sam pulls Dean in closer and kisses him hard, trying to move his hips the way he usually does when he’s on the bottom, but too fucking blissed out to focus.
Dean moves, thrusts hard against Sam’s prostate the way Sam loves to do to him. Sam makes a surprised noise, arms tugging at Dean’s shoulder as he demands that Dean do it again. Dean does and he sees his brother getting so close, even though Dean hasn’t touched him at all yet.
Dean has a moment of panic. Sam being this turned on scares him. He feels like he’s been doing it wrong for years, like now that Sam knows what he’s missing, Dean will never be able to make Sam feel good again. But Sam’s eye’s fix on Dean’s and he smiles gently.
“Mmm, Dean. Fuck. That’s…god. That’s exactly what I always hoped I was doing to you,” he leans up and gives Dean what would be considered a chaste kiss, if Dean wasn’t currently fucking into him out of all control.
Dean’s thrusts slow slightly when he understands Sam, when he realizes why Sam wanted him so bad all day. Somehow it fits his brother perfectly, being so desperate to cover his ground, to want to feel what he does just to make sure it’s working. Sam never trusts anything until he’s double-checked it himself, but Dean always thought he made it pretty clear what Sam does to him.
Sam takes Dean’s hand into his, tangles their fingers. Dean is getting close and he pushes into Sam even faster, completely carried away by how tight his body is around Sam’s big cock, how perfect this feels from both ends.
“Dean, Dean. I think I’m gonna-“
Dean knows exactly what’s coming. He’s been in Sam’s shoes before and he knows that Sam’s stamina is inexhaustible, that he can last through Sam’s orgasm like this, even if he has to work Sam there without laying a finger on him. But Sam isn’t used to that and his eyes are huge, there’s more black than green and Dean isn’t as surprised to feel Sam’s come hit his stomach as Sam is.
Dean loses it then, because making Sam feel that good will never cease to be the best thing in Dean’s universe. He collapses onto Sam, forgetting how much bigger he is now, and Sam grumbles about being squashed and pushes Dean off as soon as they’re both breathing regularly again.
“That was…” Dean turns to face his brother and feels his stomach sink when he remembers there won’t be any stray hairs to push out of his face tonight. No excuse for that intimate little touch Dean lives for.
“Pretty amazing,” Sam says, kissing Dean briefly before getting out of bed to clean himself off.
He slides back under the covers a few minutes later, kissing Dean’s neck and pushing his brother into their usual sleeping position. It’s awkward now. Dean’s grown accustomed to sleeping in Sam’s arms, but he can’t imagine this is comfortable for his brother, the way he has to stretch around the big shoulders and chest that usually give him the advantage in this situation. Sam pretends he doesn’t notice and Dean sure as hell isn’t about to say anything. He just draws into his brother and falls asleep, content enough that it’s Sam holding him.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean wakes up because Sam is kissing his shoulder, trying to rouse his brother in the least offensive way possible.
“Why?” Dean says, dragging the word on for what feels like a minute.
“We should get up and get going soon,” says Sam, pressing another kiss onto Dean’s shoulder for good measure before rolling out of bed.
“We in a rush? Did something happen?”
“Naw,” Sam crawls back onto the bed when Dean turns to face him so he can give him a quick kiss on the lips, “just wanna see my Dean again soon.”
Dean smiles and Sam runs a thumb tenderly over the dimple on his left cheek.
“Do we have a plan about that, by the way?”
Sam shrugs. “We’ll go to Bobby’s. He’s bound to have the stuff we’ll need, and a spell. If some teenage kid can figure out the witchcraft, I can figure it out.”
Dean nods and dislodges himself from the blankets, following Sam into the bathroom. They have a moment of confusion in which they’re not sure which toothbrush they should use and then they’re standing under a hot shower, touching lazily and lathering soap on each other’s backs when they remember. Mostly they kiss and mess around and before it’s over, both Sam and Dean know what it feels like to have a mouth full of their own cocks. They don’t leave for Bobby’s until the sun is more than halfway across the sky.
By the time they get to Bobby’s, Dean’s been living in his brother’s skin for three days and he’s itching to get back into his own meat. He knows Sam feels the same, even if they’ve almost made a game out of doing every dirty thing they can think of just to know what it usually feels like for the other.
“Sam?” Bobby says when he answers the door.
“Not exactly,” Dean says, shoving his way into the house. They should have called. They were supposed to call. They just got distracted a lot in the day it took to get to Bobby’s.
Bobby follows Dean with his eyes curiously and is clearly about to ask what Dean meant by ‘not exactly’ when Sam follows him in, wearing his trademark scowl. Bobby laughs so long he runs out of breath and literally has to sit down and focus on breathing before Sam and Dean can tell him what happened.
When they finish explaining, Bobby just shakes his head and says, “the messes you idjits get into.” He puts Sam and Dean to work, making them dig through the seemingly endless supply of books on shape changing magic while he goes out to gather the supplies they’ll need and buy the few things he doesn’t already have stored at his house.
It takes four hours and what feels like 800 books (probably closer to 1600 for Sam, Dean takes a nap two hours into the process) for Sam to finally stumble onto a spell powerful enough to switch their bodies back.
“ Please, God, tell me it doesn’t require any human sacrifices and we won’t have to keep looking,” Dean says when Sam wakes him up to show him the page and ask for his help setting up.
“Like you were doing any research, you big baby,” Sam says, throwing one of the books stacked next to him at Dean before Dean can get any ideas about falling asleep again.
By the time Bobby gets back, Sam and Dean already have the ritual set up and are just waiting for the herbs. It takes less than five minutes before Sam is mumbling gibberish and Dean blinks and opens his eyes to his little brother’s smile.
Dean reaches up to touch his face and assures himself that everything is in place before letting out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank God,” he says dramatically. “I’m good looking again.”
Sam scoffs but he doesn’t snipe back at Dean about the comment. Instead he waits until they’ve left Bobby’s and found somewhere more private to get Dean back in a way Dean doesn’t really see as a punishment at all.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Genre: Bodyswap, Smut
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 5,310
Author’s Note: Like many others, I was super psyched when I heard there was going to be a body swap episode. Jensen playing Sam! Jared playing Dean! And all the canon porn! And then the episode aired and it was just…no and, to add insult to injury, Dean finally did the team exorcism I’ve been dreaming of since Sin City (I wish I was exaggerating) and it wasn’t with Sam. When I ranted about how something needed to be done about this, my flist agreed. Months late, here it is! Great thanks go to cacklesthewitch for the beta and to scorpiod1 for bullying my ass into getting this started. Written for sparklybee for help_haiti as my second contribution to incestuous fictictactoe, claiming the “The writing is on the wall” square. HERE’S TO WINCEST’S INEVITABLE TRIUMPH OVER TWINCEST, FOR TRULY IT IS THE GREATEST INCESTUOUS SHIP OF ALL TIME!! Tag, you’re it, devil bug. ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: Not a coda so much as a passive aggressive response to 05x12 - Swap Meat: Sam and Dean switch bodies. Porn happens. Set after 05x19 - Hammer of the Gods.
Dean watches Sam’s eyes go wide and has to fight the urge to snatch the phone away from him. Dean hates getting information secondhand, but everyone seems to agree that Sam is the more reliable Winchester when it comes to relaying information. Dean will deny it until the day he dies, but he sees their point.
Sam hangs up and gives Dean a lopsided smile that doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.
“You’re not going to like this,” Sam says, as if Dean likes any of the news they’ve gotten recently.
It’s been a little over a week since Dean got his brother back-really got him back and, between the hotel that turned out to be deeper shit than they get into on a working week and Bobby’s frantic messages, Dean has given up on any delusions he had about taking a night or two off. Dean’s been keeping Sam at arm’s length for months and it’s now, when he’s finally seen his mistake and Sam has forgiven him as if nothing ever happened, that they suddenly have more on their plates than before. Dean’s shoulders slump as he pictures all of his plans for the night flying swiftly out of the window, but he’s got a job to do and Dean’s used to not getting his way by now.
“Lay it on me.”
Sam looks sorry. “Dean, I know you wanted to-“
“The job, Sam.”
“Yeah, alright. We have to turn around. We, uh, we made some big mistakes in the last town we stopped in.”
“We were hardly there for an hour.”
“Yeah, but we were distracted, if you recall.”
Dean smirks, thinking of Sam pushed against the bathroom in that diner, moaning and promising he would get Dean back once they found a room for the night.
“Well, if you could keep your hands to yourself for five minutes.”
“Right. That was all my idea.”
Dean scoffs. “Always trying to take credit for my genius, Sammy.”
Sam huffs out a laugh and then shakes the hair out of his face. “Focus. We’re having a serious conversation, remember? Hunting? The Apocalypse?”
Dean swallows and looks away, annoyed that Sam ruined the moment. For ten seconds it was just them again, but ten seconds is longer than Dean is allowed when the world is ending.
“We messed around in a diner, so what? Is Bobby working for Focus on the Family now or something?”
“No, but apparently we’ve had a demon on our trail since we ditched Lucifer in that hotel.”
“Oh, fantastic.”
“And, here’s where it gets really fun-the demon got hair samples or something while we…” Sam coughs. “Had our heads turned.”
“You’re such a lady, Samantha. Thank you for not saying ‘groped each other under the table’ in polite company.” Sam chooses to ignore Dean until Dean makes it clear he’s ready to pay attention. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do we care if a demon has our DNA samples? If it wants to hurt us, it doesn’t need hair dolls to do it.”
“It’s not that simple. Bobby says one of his psychic friends got in touch with him, overheard something while listening in on some demons. Apparently Bobby’s got the entire psychic world taking notes on anything about the Winchester brothers and reporting it back to him.”
“He would.”
“He thinks this demon has a plan.”
“Don’t they all nowadays?”
“The demon seems to be planning to use witch craft to recreate what those kids did to me back in Housatonic.”
“Fuck.” Dean slams on the brakes and turns to Sam, his face furious. “It’s about to steal your fucking body and you didn’t feel that was urgent enough to cut through the bullshit?”
“Well, I tried and you wanted to talk about bathroom blow jobs-“
“Shut up, Sam. What else?”
“According to Bobby, it talked to the demon you guys exorcised that night and thought it was a great idea. Only now it’s going to change both of our bodies so that you can’t come to my rescue.”
“I’d like to see it try and stop me,” Dean growls, already putting the car in reverse and gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.
“Whoever it swaps our bodies with, it’s not going to be good, man; worse than a scrawny teenager. I’m thinking ninety-year-olds or something.”
Dean nods and pushes harder on the gas. They’ve been on the road for three hours since leaving that town. Dean intends to make that demon his bitch in the next two.
_______________________________________________________________
When they get to the town, it only takes about thirty minutes for Sam to track the thing down. Dean doesn’t ask how Sam knew where it would be; half of him knows the answer and the other half doesn’t want to know. Dean’s just content to take small favors, because the demon is one sick son of a bitch and what they find when they peek in on its operation is worse than expected.
Sam and Dean manage to sneak into the house but they can’t give away their cover until they have a plan, so they watch as the demon prepares the potion. It’s riding a nice-looking middle-aged lady and tied to the dining room chairs are what Dean figures must be the demon’s meatsuit’s daughters: golden haired twins, they can’t be older than five. They don’t look as scared as Dean would expect, so he’s pretty sure the demon hasn’t hurt them too much, but they seem shaken up enough that it won’t take too much to convince them not to listen to what mommy says.
It’s not more than Dean should expect, but it still turns his stomach inside out. Those little girls would say yes in an instant in Sam and Dean’s bodies and Sam and Dean would almost be too easy to kill, not even worth the trouble.
Dean pulls out the colt, ready to shoot the hellbitch and ensure those little girls are okay, but Sam pulls him back.
“What the hell, Sam?” Dean does his best to whisper.
“Calm down, Dean. Pay attention, okay? Look at the rope she’s using. That’s not going to give until the demon gives the say-so. If we waste her, they’re stuck.”
“So what, we’re gonna let her do it?”
“No.” Sam makes his ‘why isn’t everything as obvious to you as it is to me?’ face and continues, “She’s got to undo them eventually, right? But she probably won’t until she’s sure they’ve had the potion.”
Dean nods.
“So, when she sets it down, we create a distraction and while she’s searching it out, we go in there and drink it ourselves.”
“That’s an awful idea.”
“It’s the only way that shit’s going to disappear that won’t tip her off or get those girls in way over their heads.”
“Why don’t we dump it?”
“We won’t have time to dump all of it; she made more than two cups. If we drink it and get the girls to be quiet about it, she’ll loosen the ties and then we can close in on her.”
“But what if we get the wrong cup?”
“Better we switch than them.” Dean nods, seeing the plain logic in Sam’s plan and, frankly, a little impressed he had time to think all this out.
They turn their attention back to the scene. The demon is setting the drinks down in front of the children and letting their hands go free so they can drink it. She coos like a mother, but the threat is clear in her tone and Dean just hardly manages to knock something over before she can make sure they swallow it. He dodges into the shadows as the demon follows the noise and makes for the kitchen. Sam’s already swallowed down a glass when he gets there and he’s whispering to the little girls that it’s going to be alright, that they just need to tell mommy they drank it and not mention him. Dean feels relief wash over him when they nod instead of asking questions and he chugs the remaining cup. It tastes familiar and surprisingly good and they finish with plenty of time to spare for him and Sam to get back to their hiding place.
“Did you drink your juice like good little girls?” The demon says when she returns, voice revoltingly sweet.
One of the girls lets out a frightened sound and turns away, but the other nods, the look in her eyes as convincing as possible through all that fear.
“Good! Why don’t you go play now?” Her eyes slide to black. “Mommy will have a talk with you later.”
Once the kids are out of the room, Sam jumps out, knife flashing, and knicks the demon on the arm before it knows what’s coming. Her eyes go wide.
“You’ve haven’t got much time to kill me before you’re one of them,” it laughs. “And you’ve got no weapon.”
Sam’s knife floats into her hand and Sam’s up against the wall in seconds.
Dean calls her attention but she’s too fast and before he can squeeze the trigger, the colt is flying into her empty hand.
She advances on Dean, a taunting expression overtaking her features before Sam catches his breath and begins an exorcism. It’s not one Dean is terribly familiar with, but Dean trusts Sam to know what he’s doing.
It’s perfectly acceptable logic, until she turns on Sam. Dean sees the moment she cuts off his air supply. He keeps the rhythm of Latin going for as long as he can, but Dean knows he’ll have to jump in soon. He racks his brain and reminds himself that Sam is in trouble. Sam needs him. Somehow, Dean finds the words. He knows, logically, that it’s something his bones remember after hearing too many times, even if his mouth has no idea what it’s saying, but a part of him feels Sam telling him, even from across the room. Even when Sam is nearly passed out from lack of oxygen.
The demon freezes as the words fall sloppily from Dean’s lips and it turns to him. He feels it trying to choke him, too, but it’s not strong enough to take Sam and still have the juice to do much else. Dean does his best to give her a smart ass smile while stumbling through the ritual, hoping to draw her anger towards him and away from Sam. It works. Dean’s body flies, hits the wall hard, and he hears his brother gasping for air across the room.
Sam picks up where Dean’s words failed and he’s able to go much faster than Dean, more confident in what he’s saying and ready to anticipate what’s next. The demon stops and does its best to just hold on, so Dean is able to find his feet and join Sam, making the words more powerful with the force of two voices instead of one. They watch the demon grudgingly let go of the body as it’s forced down, through the floor, back to where it belongs. The woman’s body crumples to the floor.
“Is she dead?” Dean hears a terrified little voice ask and his heart drops as he realizes the girls were watching from the doorway.
Sam runs and takes their mother into his arms, checking her pulse. For a few seconds he looks concerned, but eventually he turns and smiles at Dean.
“She’s alive.”
A few seconds later, a cough leaves the woman’s mouth and she sits up with a jolt.
“What did I do, oh God? Where are-?”
“They’re fine, ma’am. Your kids are fine and you’re going to be fine.”
She looks at Sam confused, but Dean watches her body relax when one of the girls cries out and runs to her side. She takes both of her daughters into her arms and gives Sam and Dean a questioningly glance. They spend another hour of their “night off” explaining as little as they can get away with.
_______________________________________________________________
Once they find a motel and get a room, they’re both too tired to do much else. They don’t even talk about the hunt. They strip down to their boxers and, still drenched in sweat, they curl into each other and fall asleep.
Dean wakes up the next morning with an ache in his body that he’s grown used to over the years. He lets go of Sam, figures they must have shifted places in the night, and heads for the bathroom. Despite having known the risk of drinking the potions, Dean’s sleep-addled brain is thrown off completely when he goes to the sink to wash his face and looks into the mirror to find water dripping off his brother’s features. He makes a tiny noise of surprise before the why hits him and he just stares at himself, eyes wide and unblinking.
Once he’s processed it, he opens the door to the room to see if he woke Sam up. Dean sees his own face smiling from the bed, but Sam is out cold. He closes the door and takes a few deep breaths before looking in the mirror again.
His eyes meet his brother’s chest and Dean takes a few seconds to appreciate it. He knows better, runs through a list of all the things he should be doing, but he’s completely incapable of stopping his hand as it moves down his-Sam’s-body. His fingers curl around Sam’s cock. It’s not the first time he’s touched it and the thrill that runs over his body isn’t really different from the way it always feels when Dean touches himself. But now, Dean can’t take his eyes off the mirror, off the filthy smirk he’s seen on his brother’s face so many times, and he fucks into his fist with a dirty fascination, loving the thought that this is what Sam feels when he does this and when Dean does it for him. Dean has to bite his lips to try to contain what that does to him-he’s touching Sam and he can feel every stroke.
Just as Dean’s about to shoot, there’s an impatient knock on the door.
“Dude, seriously, is that what we do first thing in the morning now? What are you, twelve? I need to take a piss.”
Dean is about to shout something smart back when he hears Sam’s laughter-or, rather, Sam’s laughter through a deeper voice-outside the door.
“Are you me?” he asks. Dean washes the come off his hand and goes to open the door, smiling at his brother and wondering if he looks as perfect as Sam does when he smiles.
“Only us,” Sam says, shaking his head as if it’s a perfectly normal morning and taking Dean’s place in the bathroom.
Dean waits at the end of the bed for Sam to come out. He hears Sam go through his morning routine and wonders if he should be getting dressed.
“We should pack up and find someone to fix this for us, huh?” Dean asks once Sam’s finally done primping himself for the day.
Sam actually looks shocked by Dean’s suggestion. “What, are you crazy?” He walks up to where Dean is on the bed and leans in. “What about that day off we’ve been looking for? Nobody’s called yet. There’s no hunt, no urgency, just you and me. We’ll fix this tomorrow.”
Sam tries to take Dean’s lips but Dean pushes him away. It makes sense to him that Sam would want this body more than Dean’s, but Dean can’t help the way it breaks his heart.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird…I mean, like this?”
“You’re right,” Sam gasps, making an exaggerated face. “These bodies are probably related.”
Sam laughs and even Dean can’t help smiling, but he still turns his face when his brother closes in again.
“I just really don’t want to right now,” Dean says.
Sam looks stung and Dean wants to sooth him, kiss away the frown, except that those are his lips and Dean can see that it’s Sam in the way he holds himself and the expressions he makes, but he can’t shake how weird it is.
“How about breakfast, Dean?” Sam asks, trying to keep his tone light. It sounds too much like the voice Dean puts on when he’s trying to placate Sam. His skin crawls.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean spends the day in a perpetual state of confusion. They have breakfast in the same diner they’d so enjoyed the first time they passed through the town. Sam is just as hands on as before, except Dean squirms away from his touch until Sam moves to sit across from Dean on the other side of the booth. He watches his brother closely as he eats, as they swap bullshit, as Sam laughs.
Dean has known since he was 15 years old that he is a good looking guy. He knows women are attracted to him, he gets why. But there’s never been anything in Dean’s face that he’s liked looking at. Watching Sam almost makes Dean feel like he’s beautiful. Sam smiles and there’s a warm curl in his belly when Sam’s eyes fold into wrinkles, a feeling Dean usually only associates with dimples.
He knows Sam sees him staring and understands what his looks mean, but he doesn’t say anything, respecting Dean’s earlier insistence that they not do anything in this state. Dean isn’t sure if he’s thankful for that or annoyed.
By the time evening rolls around, Dean’s shaking. Every time he looks at Sam he gets the same surge of want and need that he’s gotten so used to, but he hates it, too. He hates seeing his baby brother’s expression play out wrong, seeing that Sam doesn’t know how to do the things he does as well as he usually does. It’s not completely different: Sam will always knows how to make sour faces, whether he’s himself or Dean or a kitten and Dean learns that despite what he’s believed for years, his body is capable of making puppy dog eyes. Apparently, that’s all Sam, because they imitate each other in the mirror for forty-five minutes before it gets old and Dean doesn’t once manage to sculpt Sam’s face into the pathetic, pleading look that’s been such a pain in Dean’s ass his whole life.
Dean gets into bed after that, ready to spend the rest of the night watching TV or even turning in early just because they can, but Sam’s as stubborn as ever and all the fight goes out of Dean when Sam climbs into bed, every inch of him naked.
“Sam, I thought we agreed-“
“You agreed,” Sam says. He pushes himself against Dean’s back and whispers low and hungry into Dean’s ear. “I want you, Dean. I want you and I know you want me, too. Because…” Sam’s voice falters. “You want me because you’ll always want me. You have to.”
Dean hears how sad his brother is and turns to face him, grabbing onto Sam with those big hands that have touched Dean everywhere and finally giving in to the urge to kiss him.
Sam’s lips are much softer than Dean’s used to and he pulls away instinctively. He can feel Sam preparing to bitch him out and puts one long finger over his lips.
“Sorry, I just…it felt wrong for a second. Almost like I was…” Dean hopes he isn’t as red as he feels. “Like I was cheating on you, Sam.”
Sam barks out a laugh and, when his lips crash into Dean’s, he doesn’t give Dean the chance to think about it or pull back before he’s licking into Dean’s mouth hungrily, starving for something they haven’t shared since before they had to worry about Lucifer or the Apocalypse.
“Dean,” Sam says in the fucked-out voice Dean is used to hearing when he’s around Sam, but not like this. “I want you to fuck me.”
Dean’s reply is a moan, it’s all he can manage.
Sam smiles and moves to the side of the bed, pulling lube and a condom out of his duffle. He holds them out to Dean and Dean snatches them both, tossing them on the unused side of the bed and flipping his little-now also smaller-brother onto his back.
It’s Sam’s turn to moan and Dean wastes no time getting the bottle of lube back and dripping some onto his fingers. Sam watches Dean’s actions with a starved look, licking his lips and spreading his legs wide open when Dean draws closer, preparing to open him up.
Dean feels his dick twitch demandingly as he looks at his brother and thinks of how good it’s going to feel for Sam to have those long, slender digits inside of him. Dean presses an index finger against Sam’s hole, he sees his brother tighten up and leans down, whispering encouragement against Sam’s neck. Sam nods and Dean pushes into him.
Sam closes his eyes, makes a content sound, and raises his hips just enough to make sure Dean is knuckle-deep inside of him.
“More,” he says.
“Sam, I just star-”
“More.” He groans it out, the word lasts too long and Dean can’t stand the need and desperation he hears. He pulls out and reinserts two fingers, scissoring Sam with urgency.
It’s not the same as when he’s doing this to Sam’s body, it takes a few seconds for Dean to get his bearings and push against Sam’s sweet spot. Sam gasps and digs his fingers into Dean’s back until Dean thinks he’ll explode if he doesn’t get to fuck his little brother soon.
“Are you ready for-?”
“God, yeah, Dean. Give me that big cock. Want you to stuff me so full of it.”
Dean would have to laugh if it weren’t so fucking hot, because Sam is begging for his own cock and Dean can’t blame him.
Dean pulls away and tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He disposes of his boxers just as carelessly and makes an embarrassing show of putting on the condom. He’s so turned on he can’t focus and he drops the damn thing twice before he manages to get the packet open and slide it over himself-over Sam. Sam’s already waiting with the bottle of lube in his hand and he gets Dean slicked up as soon as he’s ready. Sam even takes a few seconds to keep stroking Dean, just touching his own body. Dean doesn’t think there’s anything hotter than Sam touching himself like that, he wants to let him keep going forever, but he has to stop Sam or he knows he’ll come without ever getting a chance to fuck him.
Sam pouts for only a moment when Dean tells him to stop touching and then he lets his body fall back to the bed.
“Come on, big brother,” Sam says, eyes fixed on Dean’s erection and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever heard Sam make a dirtier joke. He surges forward with a growl and penetrates his brother so quickly it’s got to be painful.
Sam cries out and Dean-Dean doesn’t know what it is. Dean isn’t rough, not with Sam, not even when he’s fucking him fast and desperate. Now Sam’s making hurt noises and Dean can’t slow down, can’t bring himself to stop and make sure his brother’s alright. It’s like Sam’s body is calling the shots and he can’t fuck Sam the way he usually does. His hips thrust forward mechanically and Sam is so tight and Dean shivers. He knows better than he knows anything how good it feels to get fucked by Sam like this.
Sam’s falling apart under him, head thrown back, alternating between moaning and saying the filthiest things Dean’s ever heard. Dean smiles, glad to know his brother’s big mouth will always be a part of him. Dean usually teases Sam about how much he talks during sex, just like Sam teases him for the way his brain shuts down and he can’t form any words when he’s with Sam, but right now it’s a comfort. It’s a reminder that it’s his baby brother in there.
Sam pulls Dean in closer and kisses him hard, trying to move his hips the way he usually does when he’s on the bottom, but too fucking blissed out to focus.
Dean moves, thrusts hard against Sam’s prostate the way Sam loves to do to him. Sam makes a surprised noise, arms tugging at Dean’s shoulder as he demands that Dean do it again. Dean does and he sees his brother getting so close, even though Dean hasn’t touched him at all yet.
Dean has a moment of panic. Sam being this turned on scares him. He feels like he’s been doing it wrong for years, like now that Sam knows what he’s missing, Dean will never be able to make Sam feel good again. But Sam’s eye’s fix on Dean’s and he smiles gently.
“Mmm, Dean. Fuck. That’s…god. That’s exactly what I always hoped I was doing to you,” he leans up and gives Dean what would be considered a chaste kiss, if Dean wasn’t currently fucking into him out of all control.
Dean’s thrusts slow slightly when he understands Sam, when he realizes why Sam wanted him so bad all day. Somehow it fits his brother perfectly, being so desperate to cover his ground, to want to feel what he does just to make sure it’s working. Sam never trusts anything until he’s double-checked it himself, but Dean always thought he made it pretty clear what Sam does to him.
Sam takes Dean’s hand into his, tangles their fingers. Dean is getting close and he pushes into Sam even faster, completely carried away by how tight his body is around Sam’s big cock, how perfect this feels from both ends.
“Dean, Dean. I think I’m gonna-“
Dean knows exactly what’s coming. He’s been in Sam’s shoes before and he knows that Sam’s stamina is inexhaustible, that he can last through Sam’s orgasm like this, even if he has to work Sam there without laying a finger on him. But Sam isn’t used to that and his eyes are huge, there’s more black than green and Dean isn’t as surprised to feel Sam’s come hit his stomach as Sam is.
Dean loses it then, because making Sam feel that good will never cease to be the best thing in Dean’s universe. He collapses onto Sam, forgetting how much bigger he is now, and Sam grumbles about being squashed and pushes Dean off as soon as they’re both breathing regularly again.
“That was…” Dean turns to face his brother and feels his stomach sink when he remembers there won’t be any stray hairs to push out of his face tonight. No excuse for that intimate little touch Dean lives for.
“Pretty amazing,” Sam says, kissing Dean briefly before getting out of bed to clean himself off.
He slides back under the covers a few minutes later, kissing Dean’s neck and pushing his brother into their usual sleeping position. It’s awkward now. Dean’s grown accustomed to sleeping in Sam’s arms, but he can’t imagine this is comfortable for his brother, the way he has to stretch around the big shoulders and chest that usually give him the advantage in this situation. Sam pretends he doesn’t notice and Dean sure as hell isn’t about to say anything. He just draws into his brother and falls asleep, content enough that it’s Sam holding him.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean wakes up because Sam is kissing his shoulder, trying to rouse his brother in the least offensive way possible.
“Why?” Dean says, dragging the word on for what feels like a minute.
“We should get up and get going soon,” says Sam, pressing another kiss onto Dean’s shoulder for good measure before rolling out of bed.
“We in a rush? Did something happen?”
“Naw,” Sam crawls back onto the bed when Dean turns to face him so he can give him a quick kiss on the lips, “just wanna see my Dean again soon.”
Dean smiles and Sam runs a thumb tenderly over the dimple on his left cheek.
“Do we have a plan about that, by the way?”
Sam shrugs. “We’ll go to Bobby’s. He’s bound to have the stuff we’ll need, and a spell. If some teenage kid can figure out the witchcraft, I can figure it out.”
Dean nods and dislodges himself from the blankets, following Sam into the bathroom. They have a moment of confusion in which they’re not sure which toothbrush they should use and then they’re standing under a hot shower, touching lazily and lathering soap on each other’s backs when they remember. Mostly they kiss and mess around and before it’s over, both Sam and Dean know what it feels like to have a mouth full of their own cocks. They don’t leave for Bobby’s until the sun is more than halfway across the sky.
By the time they get to Bobby’s, Dean’s been living in his brother’s skin for three days and he’s itching to get back into his own meat. He knows Sam feels the same, even if they’ve almost made a game out of doing every dirty thing they can think of just to know what it usually feels like for the other.
“Sam?” Bobby says when he answers the door.
“Not exactly,” Dean says, shoving his way into the house. They should have called. They were supposed to call. They just got distracted a lot in the day it took to get to Bobby’s.
Bobby follows Dean with his eyes curiously and is clearly about to ask what Dean meant by ‘not exactly’ when Sam follows him in, wearing his trademark scowl. Bobby laughs so long he runs out of breath and literally has to sit down and focus on breathing before Sam and Dean can tell him what happened.
When they finish explaining, Bobby just shakes his head and says, “the messes you idjits get into.” He puts Sam and Dean to work, making them dig through the seemingly endless supply of books on shape changing magic while he goes out to gather the supplies they’ll need and buy the few things he doesn’t already have stored at his house.
It takes four hours and what feels like 800 books (probably closer to 1600 for Sam, Dean takes a nap two hours into the process) for Sam to finally stumble onto a spell powerful enough to switch their bodies back.
“ Please, God, tell me it doesn’t require any human sacrifices and we won’t have to keep looking,” Dean says when Sam wakes him up to show him the page and ask for his help setting up.
“Like you were doing any research, you big baby,” Sam says, throwing one of the books stacked next to him at Dean before Dean can get any ideas about falling asleep again.
By the time Bobby gets back, Sam and Dean already have the ritual set up and are just waiting for the herbs. It takes less than five minutes before Sam is mumbling gibberish and Dean blinks and opens his eyes to his little brother’s smile.
Dean reaches up to touch his face and assures himself that everything is in place before letting out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank God,” he says dramatically. “I’m good looking again.”
Sam scoffs but he doesn’t snipe back at Dean about the comment. Instead he waits until they’ve left Bobby’s and found somewhere more private to get Dean back in a way Dean doesn’t really see as a punishment at all.