FIC - Let's Just See
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: underage sex, weecest, very manipulative wee!Sam
A/N: I’ve never written the boys quite this young before (Sam is 12 when the sexual activity first starts, so steer clear of this if that’s too young for your comfort level). I wrote this as a possible xmas exchange gift but ended up going with something else, so I'm just posting it here.
Sam Winchester was in second grade when he first truly recognized the power he had over his older brother, Dean. They were in a diner with their dad and it was one of those rare occasions when they got to order dessert, because John had a few extra bucks and he wanted to give his boys something they didn’t usually get. Sam ordered strawberry ice cream and plowed through the whole bowl of it in about three minutes. Dean got a piece of warm apple pie and ate it slowly, savoring every little bite.
He looked down at his empty bowl, looked to his right side at Dean’s half-finished slice of pie. Sam was a smart kid, especially adept at making connections between actions and motivation. For a while, he’d been acutely aware of the fact that his many of his brother’s actions were motivated by a desire to make him happy. But what was the level of motivation? How much could Sam get from Dean?
As quickly as the theory formed in his brain, he decided he was going to take it for a test drive. Clinking his spoon against the side of his still-cold bowl, he elbowed Dean in the ribs to get his attention. He stuck out his bottom lip a little, and blinked several times.
“I wish I would have gotten pie. That looks really good. And I’m…”, he cast his eyes downward just for a second, then back up at his brother, “kind of still hungry.”
He watched as Dean raised his fork, took another bite of the sweet dessert, and unhesitatingly slid his plate to the left. “You can have the rest, Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes went wide, and it wasn’t all an act. He figured Dean would offer him a bite, or maybe even share what was left. Dean handing over everything he had without a second thought…the child wasn’t exactly sure what it made him feel right then, just that it was something with value.
“Thanks, De! You’re the best brother ever in the world!” The happiness in Dean’s expression when he heard those words was more intense than the happiness he’d shown when the waitress put the slice of pie in front of him in the first place.
As Dean would say in later years…Yahtzee.
Now, don’t go thinking Sam took advantage of his older brother’s generosity every day after that. Over the next few years, he chose carefully the times when he’d do additional exploration regarding just how far Dean would go to make sure Sam got what he wanted. Usually, they were little things - help with his chores even though Dean had his own to finish, answers to homework questions he could easily have figured out himself, information he knew he wasn’t supposed to have about what John was doing when he left them alone for days at a time.
It was only much later, when puberty ran Sam over like a freight train, seemingly overnight, that his ideas turned into a different direction. Trying to pretend he was just frightened and anxious, he made his way into Dean’s bed several times during his sixth grade year, asking his brother to comfort him. He was never refused, not even one time.
A few months after he turned twelve, Sam set off to one of those middle-of-the night trips into Dean’s bed with an agenda that was far from innocent. Dean had slid over and made room for him, tucked the covers around him and asked if he’d had a bad dream.
“It wasn’t a bad dream, De. It was a good dream. But it made me feel funny. See what happened? I don’t understand.” He conjured up a helpless and confused look at his brother, though he was in fact not in the least bit confused. He’d had sex ed in school, he knew about erections and masturbation and orgasms, but Dean didn’t know that. He backed away from Sam, sitting up in bed and pulling a very serious expression before starting in on an awkward explanation of adolescence and different feelings and new urges.
“You know, you can, uh, you can just, take care of it, if you, um, when you’re alone, you just touch it, touch, uh, yourself, there…and you’ll feel better after.” As Dean was searching for what to say next, Sam went in for the kill.
“Alone? Dean, I don’t want to do that alone. I need you. Can’t you help me?”
For just a moment, he thought maybe he’d pushed too far this time, because Dean moved even farther away from him, stammering something about how it wasn’t right, it wasn’t allowed, brothers weren’t supposed to do things like that with each other. He wasn’t about to give up after only one try, though.
“That doesn’t make any sense at all!” Sam telegraphed righteous indignance with his look and mustered up a Class-A pout to go with it. “You help me with everything, Dean! How can it be wrong for you to help me with this?” Dean looked like he was coming up with another argument, so Sam pulled out the last card in the deck.
“I need you. Please?”
And yeah, that was what got him exactly what he wanted. “All right, Sammy, just this once, but you can’t tell anyone, you have to swear, and then you’ll know how to take care of it on your own, okay?”
Sam didn’t give a shit what he promised in return, because Dean put his big hand around Sam’s dick and let Sam rest his head on his shoulder while he jerked him off. After they were cleaned up, he carefully catalogued Dean’s expressions - guilt (first, of course, that one was always first), then the satisfaction of having made Sam happy, and then…oh, hell yes. He’d seen that look before, when Dean was checking out some girl at school or in one of those skin mags he hid in the bottom of his duffle. So, he felt guilty for touching his baby brother, sure, but he still liked it. And maybe he felt even guiltier for liking it. Whatever. Sam’s keen analytical skills put all the pieces together in less than a minute. It was his biggest victory yet, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away.
Too smart to risk getting caught, he always waited until John had left them alone before he slipped into Dean’s bed, asking for more and more each time. When Dean finally let Sam touch him, it was like winning an Olympic gold medal. The first time he got a blow job from his brother, Sam passed out after he came, but when his senses returned, he knew Dean wasn’t going to tell him no anymore, wasn’t going to try to make him stop sliding into bed with him.
He could have whatever he wanted. From Dean. Because Dean would give him anything. Everything. It was fucking glorious and it made Sam feel like he could have anything he wanted, ever, from anyone. Anything. Everything.
It was Christmas morning, a year and change later, another motel room, another holiday without their dad, the two of them wrapped up in each other under the blankets, when Dean said, “I’m gonna be eighteen next month, Sam. Even without the incest, that probably makes it illegal for us to fool around in pretty much any state we end up.”
“Shit, Dean, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to get in trouble”, was Sam’s response, coated in so much sincerity that it was totally believable. And really, it wasn’t all fake, he honestly never wanted his brother to be in trouble, to get arrested or for their Dad to find out. Yes, it was partly because he didn’t want to lose what they had, but he really did love Dean and would never wish something bad to happen to him. “We’ll just have to make sure that no one ever finds out, that’s all. We can do that, right? You can do it. You can make sure no one finds out, I know you can. You can do anything, Dean”, he finished, looking up at his older brother with the absolutely one-hundred-percent authentic trust and admiration he’d felt for Dean every day of his life, even when he knew Dean would bend to his will very easily.
“Of course, Sammy, you know I’ll never let anyone find out. This is just for us, for you and me. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you happy. I love you, baby boy.” He kissed Sam’s forehead and held him close.
Sam started mapping out a six-month plan, his brain working overtime, putting together the pieces that would lead to him having Dean’s cock in his ass as a gift for his fourteenth birthday. He smiled to himself, simultaneously satisfied and determined. He knew his brother still went off with girls sometimes, but he figured eventually he’d find a way to put a stop to that. Dean was his brother. Equal emphasis on his and brother.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: underage sex, weecest, very manipulative wee!Sam
A/N: I’ve never written the boys quite this young before (Sam is 12 when the sexual activity first starts, so steer clear of this if that’s too young for your comfort level). I wrote this as a possible xmas exchange gift but ended up going with something else, so I'm just posting it here.
Sam Winchester was in second grade when he first truly recognized the power he had over his older brother, Dean. They were in a diner with their dad and it was one of those rare occasions when they got to order dessert, because John had a few extra bucks and he wanted to give his boys something they didn’t usually get. Sam ordered strawberry ice cream and plowed through the whole bowl of it in about three minutes. Dean got a piece of warm apple pie and ate it slowly, savoring every little bite.
He looked down at his empty bowl, looked to his right side at Dean’s half-finished slice of pie. Sam was a smart kid, especially adept at making connections between actions and motivation. For a while, he’d been acutely aware of the fact that his many of his brother’s actions were motivated by a desire to make him happy. But what was the level of motivation? How much could Sam get from Dean?
As quickly as the theory formed in his brain, he decided he was going to take it for a test drive. Clinking his spoon against the side of his still-cold bowl, he elbowed Dean in the ribs to get his attention. He stuck out his bottom lip a little, and blinked several times.
“I wish I would have gotten pie. That looks really good. And I’m…”, he cast his eyes downward just for a second, then back up at his brother, “kind of still hungry.”
He watched as Dean raised his fork, took another bite of the sweet dessert, and unhesitatingly slid his plate to the left. “You can have the rest, Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes went wide, and it wasn’t all an act. He figured Dean would offer him a bite, or maybe even share what was left. Dean handing over everything he had without a second thought…the child wasn’t exactly sure what it made him feel right then, just that it was something with value.
“Thanks, De! You’re the best brother ever in the world!” The happiness in Dean’s expression when he heard those words was more intense than the happiness he’d shown when the waitress put the slice of pie in front of him in the first place.
As Dean would say in later years…Yahtzee.
Now, don’t go thinking Sam took advantage of his older brother’s generosity every day after that. Over the next few years, he chose carefully the times when he’d do additional exploration regarding just how far Dean would go to make sure Sam got what he wanted. Usually, they were little things - help with his chores even though Dean had his own to finish, answers to homework questions he could easily have figured out himself, information he knew he wasn’t supposed to have about what John was doing when he left them alone for days at a time.
It was only much later, when puberty ran Sam over like a freight train, seemingly overnight, that his ideas turned into a different direction. Trying to pretend he was just frightened and anxious, he made his way into Dean’s bed several times during his sixth grade year, asking his brother to comfort him. He was never refused, not even one time.
A few months after he turned twelve, Sam set off to one of those middle-of-the night trips into Dean’s bed with an agenda that was far from innocent. Dean had slid over and made room for him, tucked the covers around him and asked if he’d had a bad dream.
“It wasn’t a bad dream, De. It was a good dream. But it made me feel funny. See what happened? I don’t understand.” He conjured up a helpless and confused look at his brother, though he was in fact not in the least bit confused. He’d had sex ed in school, he knew about erections and masturbation and orgasms, but Dean didn’t know that. He backed away from Sam, sitting up in bed and pulling a very serious expression before starting in on an awkward explanation of adolescence and different feelings and new urges.
“You know, you can, uh, you can just, take care of it, if you, um, when you’re alone, you just touch it, touch, uh, yourself, there…and you’ll feel better after.” As Dean was searching for what to say next, Sam went in for the kill.
“Alone? Dean, I don’t want to do that alone. I need you. Can’t you help me?”
For just a moment, he thought maybe he’d pushed too far this time, because Dean moved even farther away from him, stammering something about how it wasn’t right, it wasn’t allowed, brothers weren’t supposed to do things like that with each other. He wasn’t about to give up after only one try, though.
“That doesn’t make any sense at all!” Sam telegraphed righteous indignance with his look and mustered up a Class-A pout to go with it. “You help me with everything, Dean! How can it be wrong for you to help me with this?” Dean looked like he was coming up with another argument, so Sam pulled out the last card in the deck.
“I need you. Please?”
And yeah, that was what got him exactly what he wanted. “All right, Sammy, just this once, but you can’t tell anyone, you have to swear, and then you’ll know how to take care of it on your own, okay?”
Sam didn’t give a shit what he promised in return, because Dean put his big hand around Sam’s dick and let Sam rest his head on his shoulder while he jerked him off. After they were cleaned up, he carefully catalogued Dean’s expressions - guilt (first, of course, that one was always first), then the satisfaction of having made Sam happy, and then…oh, hell yes. He’d seen that look before, when Dean was checking out some girl at school or in one of those skin mags he hid in the bottom of his duffle. So, he felt guilty for touching his baby brother, sure, but he still liked it. And maybe he felt even guiltier for liking it. Whatever. Sam’s keen analytical skills put all the pieces together in less than a minute. It was his biggest victory yet, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away.
Too smart to risk getting caught, he always waited until John had left them alone before he slipped into Dean’s bed, asking for more and more each time. When Dean finally let Sam touch him, it was like winning an Olympic gold medal. The first time he got a blow job from his brother, Sam passed out after he came, but when his senses returned, he knew Dean wasn’t going to tell him no anymore, wasn’t going to try to make him stop sliding into bed with him.
He could have whatever he wanted. From Dean. Because Dean would give him anything. Everything. It was fucking glorious and it made Sam feel like he could have anything he wanted, ever, from anyone. Anything. Everything.
It was Christmas morning, a year and change later, another motel room, another holiday without their dad, the two of them wrapped up in each other under the blankets, when Dean said, “I’m gonna be eighteen next month, Sam. Even without the incest, that probably makes it illegal for us to fool around in pretty much any state we end up.”
“Shit, Dean, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to get in trouble”, was Sam’s response, coated in so much sincerity that it was totally believable. And really, it wasn’t all fake, he honestly never wanted his brother to be in trouble, to get arrested or for their Dad to find out. Yes, it was partly because he didn’t want to lose what they had, but he really did love Dean and would never wish something bad to happen to him. “We’ll just have to make sure that no one ever finds out, that’s all. We can do that, right? You can do it. You can make sure no one finds out, I know you can. You can do anything, Dean”, he finished, looking up at his older brother with the absolutely one-hundred-percent authentic trust and admiration he’d felt for Dean every day of his life, even when he knew Dean would bend to his will very easily.
“Of course, Sammy, you know I’ll never let anyone find out. This is just for us, for you and me. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you happy. I love you, baby boy.” He kissed Sam’s forehead and held him close.
Sam started mapping out a six-month plan, his brain working overtime, putting together the pieces that would lead to him having Dean’s cock in his ass as a gift for his fourteenth birthday. He smiled to himself, simultaneously satisfied and determined. He knew his brother still went off with girls sometimes, but he figured eventually he’d find a way to put a stop to that. Dean was his brother. Equal emphasis on his and brother.