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"I hate witches. I hate magic. I'm going to personally destroy everyone of those bitches if it's the last thing I do," Dean fumed, pacing agitatedly around the motel room, "I swear to god, Sammy, when I get my hands on them-"

"Heel, Dean."

"Oh shut up!" Dean snapped, stomping over to the table, “You don't get to be on your high and mighty zen horse or whatever, you're not the one stuck as a girl!" Dean growled, the sound much less impressive coming from his now very feminine voice.

Sam raised his eyebrows from behind his laptop, where he was trying to find a counter-spell. "Trying" being a subjective term, it seemed, because Dean was of the opinion that his brother was enjoying this entirely too much.

"Freaking out is not gonna get your dick back any faster, Dean, so you might as well take a seat and chill out," Sam commanded, and Dean frowned miserably at him before plopping down on the edge of the bed heavily.

He ran his fingers through his hair- still as short as it was when he went to sleep last night, thank god- and sighed.

Stupid witches. Who the hell goes around poofing a dude's junk away anyway?

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees but he frowned after a moment, the unexpectedly heavy weight of the breasts now featured on his chest uncomfortable like this.

He gave a growl of frustration, flopping forward entirely, bent in half at the waist with his forehead on his knees and his hands dragging on the scruffy carpet.

Dean heard Sam sigh heavily and get up, but didn't bother to raise his head as his brother came around the table and crouched on the floor in front of him.

"Dean," Sam said gently, putting his hands on Dean’s shoulders, “Come on, man, it’s gonna be ok.”

Dean looked up with a glare, and Sam took the opportunity to cup Dean’s face, coaxing him upright.

“Why are you so freaked out right now, huh? I’d have thought you’d be thrilled at the chance to have tits you can touch whenever you feel like,” Sam joked, and Dean just glared harder.

“Ha. Ha.” he said dryly, and Sam sighed, shifting to tuck his long legs under himself.

“Hey,” Sam said, taking both of Dean’s hands in his own- so much smaller now, they were completely engulfed by Sam’s wide palm and long fingers- and kissed each one lovingly, “You know I love you no matter what, right? You’re still Dean, even if I have to start introducing you as my big sister.”

Dean chortled at that, and Sam smiled, tilting his head in for a proper kiss. Dean sighed, leaning into it, and frowned when Sam broke it off a moment later, giggling.

“What?” Dean pouted, and Sam rubbed his cheek against Dean’s like a cat.

“No stubble,” Sam murmured, “Didn’t even think about that.”

“Ugh, and now yours feels like tiny razor blades, stop it,” Dean grunted, pulling his face away and Sam laughed, wrapping his arms around him and trying to do it again.

“Ow, Sammy!” Dean protested, trying to wiggle away, only resulting in Sam holding on tighter, until the both of them fell back against the bed, Dean trapped under Sam’s heavier-than-usual bulk.

“Asshole,” Dean grumbled, still shoving at him, and Sam chuckled.

He switched to kisses instead, trailing them down Dean’s neck.

“Trying to win me back isn’t going to work,” Dean huffed, and Sam hummed, tracing Dean’s collar bones with his lips.

Dean startled when Sam slid his hands under Dean’s big sleep shirt, tracing his ribs up to cup the breasts that still felt weird as hell.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean squeaked, a lot more high-pitched than he would ever admit to, and Sam chuckled.

“Winning you back,” Sam smirked, hiking the shirt up and Dean felt himself blushing profusely. This was weird. Dean hadn’t even test-drove his new parts yet, and now Sam was-

Oh,” he squeaked, Sam’s mouth closing around one nipple feeling so much more sensitive than he was used to, and Sam groaned, low and pleased against his flesh.

“So pretty, Dean,” Sam breathed, his hot breath raising goosebumps on Dean’s skin, and Dean’s face flushed deeper as Sam kissed and licked his breasts almost reverently.

“Sammy,” he mumbled, but Sam remained silent in favor of trailing his mouth lower, laying open-mouthed kisses down Dean’s abdomen and toward the top of his boxers. Dean was momentarily thrown off by the sight of Sam’s nearing his crotch without the visual of his cock tenting the front of his boxers, and got angry all over again at the dick-stealing witch-bitch that did it to him.

Until Sam tugged the fabric down his hips and coaxed his legs apart, laying kisses across his pelvis before dipping to part his very-girl-parts with his tongue.

Jesus,” Dean cursed, the flicker of pleasure crawling up his spine strangely similar, but still so different than what he was used to.

Sam took that as his green light to really get into it, alternating between wide, broad stripes and harder, fluttery flicks of his tongue against Dean’s clit.

Dean didn’t know what to do with himself. What he was used to, what was instinct was his hard-pressed effort to stay still, to not let his hips shove up like he wanted because he didn’t want to choke Sam; now, though, he supposed he didn’t have to do that.

Sam closing his lips around Dean’s clit and sucking answered that question, the pleasure of it making his hips jerk up of their own accord, and Sam growled, sliding his hands under Dean and pulling him in harder, closer, and Dean just fucking lost it. He pushed up against Sam’s mouth, grabbing fistfuls of that soft brown hair; panting and twitching, strung tight as a wire.

Sam swirled his tongue, flicking hard against the sensitive nub and it was enough to snap that wire, orgasm finally overtaking Dean in a hot rush.

“Fuck,” Dean panted, little body spasms making him whimper as Sam kept licking, easing Dean through his orgasm and further, until Dean was trembling again.

“Fuck, Sam, I can’t-” Dean panted, and Sam groaned, barely lifting his head from Dean’s slick folds.

“Yes, you can,” he husked.

Fuck. Dean groaned, grinding his head back against the mattress. Fuck. Yeah, he can. No dick meant no refractory time.

Dean let Sam push him through another orgasm, this one coming even easier than the first, and leaving him shaking and twitching even worse.

“Come on, Sammy,” he gasped, tugging insistently at Sam’s hair, “We’re gonna do this, let’s do this. Come on, fuck me.”

Sam moaned, the vibration of it against Dean’s clit making him jerk and keen, and Sam pulled back, panting.

Seeing Sam, spit and girl slick smeared across his mouth and down his chin, was enough to zing pleasure down Dean’s spine, and he whimpered.

Sam got up, and Dean’s eyes fell to the front of his pants, where Sam was rock hard against his zipper.

“Hey!” Dean said with confusion as Sam walked away, and Dean sat up, about to protest further when Sam went to his duffle, pulling out a condom from the side pocket and coming immediately back.

Crap. Right. Girl now, if he was stuck like this long enough...

He didn’t want to think about it.

Sam must have sensed his realization, because he swooped down and kissed him, licking into Dean’s mouth hotly and it was enough to do the trick. Dean put it out of his mind in favor of licking the fucking hot as hell taste of pussy out of his brother’s mouth.

Sam pulled back on a groan,whipping his shirt off and undoing his jeans as quickly as he dared, and Dean squirmed, impatient and fighting not to lose his nerve.

“Hurry up, Sammy,” Dean demanded, and Sam grunted, ripping the foil of the condom with his teeth and sliding it onto his dick.

Dean groaned as Sam kissed him again, only rubbing his cock against the slick folds between Dean’s legs, nudging against his clit and winding him up again before finally sliding home.

“Fucking-” Dean panted, wrapping his arms around Sam tightly, the totally alien feeling of being penetrated like this taking him off guard.

“Ok?” Sam breathed, holding completely still, kissing down Dean’s neck comfortingly.

“Yeah,” Dean said after a moment, “Yeah, just... keep going.”

Sam groaned, churning his hips in a steady, rocking rhythm, and Dean trembled, muscles clamping down around Sam’s cock reflexively.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Dean moaned, pleasure starting to slide up his spine again, and Sam picked up the pace, pushing back on his arms to change the angle, and yes.

Dean reached between them, rubbing at his clit as Sam fell into a hard rhythm, panting and groaning with each thrust.

Suddenly Sam grabbed Dean’s leg, hooking an arm under his knee and pushing it up towards Dean’s chest and Dean arched, the rub inside him just right and the flick of his fingers making him come fucking again. Sam moaned, pounding hard into him for a handful of thrusts before coming himself, grinding hard into Dean and gasping before collapsing as carefully as he could over him.

“Holy shit,” Dean panted, wrapping his arms around Sam in the afterglow, inhaling the sweat and sex smell off of him hedonisticly, “Holy shit Sam.”

“Ung,” was all Sam could manage, nuzzling into the crook of Dean’s neck and Dean smiled.

“Maybe I don’t have to kill those witches after all. That was kind of... awesome,” Dean decided out loud, and Sam laughed breathlessly.

“Shut up, Dean.”