Chapter 1: Sammy Wants To Celebrate The Season
Sam begs Dean to celebrate Christmas, and Dean finds himself getting in the spirit.
"Dean! Come on! It's Christmas and we're finally not spending it in some crappy motel. Let's decorate and bake and get a Christmas tree!"
Dean looked up at his excited brother who was practically bouncing around with what he called 'Christmas spirit', which was ridiculous because there was nothing festive in the bunker and all the TV was showing was some documentary on the origin of Christmas which was extremely boring.
Dean sighed and got up, walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked, his eyes following his brother in confusion.
"What, you're going to find a Christmas tree in the basement of this place?"
A smile lit Sam's face and he grabbed his jacket, bounding after Dean.
His older brother grabbed all their stolen credit cards and they had a fine time, picking out ornaments and ingredients to make cookies and fruit cake.
"Can we have a ham?"
A frozen ham slammed into the cart before Dean could answer.
Probably the biggest turkey in the freezer dropped into the cart.
Dean opened his mouth to say something but three boxes and one bag of chocolates and candy was tossed in.
Thankfully Sam put down the glass bottles gently instead of throwing it in like he did with everything else.
Dean followed around his over eager brother as he snatched up everything that looked like what you bought for Christmas and he used up all of his energy unpacking the cart at the cashier's, while Sam was busy picking up candy canes.
They stopped and bought a Christmas tree, the biggest Sam could find, which wasn't very big since they were pretty late in getting decorations and everyone already took the best ones, but Sam was still happy. They tied it to the top of the Impala and drove home.
Sam bubbled with excitement as he picked up ten of the plastic bags at once, not even seeming to mind the weight of them and loped inside, dumping them on the ground and going back to help Dean with the Christmas tree.
"Sammy, how are we supposed to make all of this in one night? Christmas is tomorrow, we'd never finish in time," Dean said, as he unpacked the bags, spreading out the food on the table.
"We will!" his little brother said confidently, nothing seeming to dampen his mood. "Let's make the cookies now!"
"But we haven't even…"
Sam was already opening the flour.
Half an hour later, they were putting the cookies in the oven, along with the turkey, and Dean was certain something was going to burn. And with the ham stuffed in the toaster oven, who knew what was going to happen.
As he wiped down the counter from all the flour, he grabbed a chocolate chip and popped it into his mouth.
"Hey! That was mine!" Sam cried.
He looked up to see Sam staring at Dean's mouth and pouting unhappily. "I was saving it."
Dean's jaw paused just as he was about to crunch the bit of chocolate. A wicked grin came on his face and moved the chocolate to the tip of his tongue. He went over to his brother and grabbed the sides of his head firmly.
Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion but Dean ignored it, moving forward and pressing his lips against Sam's. Working his mouth so that he parted Sam's lips, he slid his tongue into Sam's mouth, pushing the chocolate with it.
The younger Winchester smiled into the kiss and sucked on Dean's tongue, licking all the chocolate from it. They separated and Sam licked his lips, grinning. "Better than the actual chocolate."
They finished wiping down the counter and set about to decorating the tree. Dean handed the star to Sam who grinned like a fool and put it on the top. "Ready?" Dean asked, holding the plug to the socket.
Dean plugged it in and the tree lit up. Granted, there was a lot more red than green on the tree since there wasn't much variety in the stores on Christmas Eve, but the Winchesters stood in front of it proudly.
Sam held up a piece of mistletoe above their heads and smiled before leaning in and kissing him. Dean laughed as they pulled away, smacking the mistletoe out of Sam's hand.
"You're such a girl, Sammy."
"You love it."
Dean grabbed his brother by the jacket and yanked him in for another kiss. They stood for a while in front of the tree, making out tenderly, before Sam suddenly pulled back.
"Oh shit, the cookies!"
Chapter 2: In The Torture Master's Chamber
Sam Winchester, the BoyKing of Hell, pays a visit to the Torture Master...
Sam strode down to the torture chamber where the screams of souls echoed. He turned to walk to the largest chamber, gates decorated with black vines that twisted in all sorts. A wave of his hand and they swung open soundlessly.
The Torture Master's head shot up, teeth bared in a snarl ready to spear the person who dared to disturb him; he only enjoyed an audience when he asked for it. His scowl faded when he saw the tall man in the white suit, snarl turning into a grin.
"Sammy, come to watch?"
"Don't let me stop you," he answered, snapping his fingers and sitting on the plush chair that appeared behind him. The gates closed again and the soul that was spread out on a table squirmed, trying to see who the visitor was.
Dean glared at him, but said nothing and allowed him to crane his neck. "Like what you see?"
The tortured man snapped back his head to Dean and trembled as the Torture Master raised an eyebrow down at him.
"Well? I haven't cut out your tongue yet."
Sam smirked; trick question. Should the poor soul say no, Dean would hack into him for implying Sam wasn't perfect. Should he say yes, Dean would still hack into him because no one was allowed to want him.
No one but Dean.
The soul shook before finally answering. "Am I allowed to like?" he finally choked out.
Sam's eyebrows raised and Dean's head tilted, surprised. "Good answer, never got that one before."
The man's chest heaved a bit from relief. "For that, you can keep your dick. I'll just carve your balls." A scream rang through the chamber before Dean even picked up his knife.
Sam crossed his legs, leaning back as he watched Dean carve out the human body like it was marble and he was the sculptor. Blood ran in rivulets down his pale skin, painting him. When no skin was left to be drawn on, his brother snapped his fingers. The screaming stopped, the man was whole, and Dean began his work again on a new canvas.
The feral, hungry look in Dean's eyes slowly quelled as he worked. His skilled hands swept up weapons from his tray, picking up the right one without even looking, twirling them in his hands with ease and practice before swiftly and delicately slicing open the skin.
Finally, he set down his blade and sent the soul out without healing him, to let him suffer for what he did to be there in the first place.
Dean didn't turn to his little brother, instead he busied himself with cleaning his weapons, letting Sam look at him. And Sam certainly did.
He took in the way his muscles rippled across his back as he bent to retrieve the empty bottles of what probably previously contained oil, how his pants stretched when he moved around to put the buckles on the table back in place.
His bare back was sweaty and covered in grime and dirt, almost as if he'd done nothing but work on a car. Sam got up and went to stand behind him, pressing his chest to Dean's back and wrapping his arms around his big brother's waist, nuzzling his neck.
Dean turned around and Sam rubbed his nose against Dean's. Dean smiled, amused. "Something you want?"
"Kiss me, jerk."
The Torture Master claimed Sam's lips, a movement so gentle and loving no one would have thought it possible that the man who caused others pain could be tender. But Dean was only like that with Sam, with his precious little brother.
Sam hungrily licked his way into Dean's mouth, running his hands over Dean's hard chest, coating his palms in sweat and blood. Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's neck, placing him in the crook of his arm and tugging him down so Dean was the only thing that kept him from falling.
He flattened himself against Sam, tightening his grip around his neck and dominating his mouth, tongue sucking on his. Sam moaned and bucked, trying to get more of Dean, and of course, he gave in.
Dean let Sam manhandle him onto the torture table. A snap of his fingers and their clothes gone, before Sam climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and kissing him with an undeniable, burning passion.
"Wanna fuck me, baby boy? Huh?" Dean asked once Sam's mouth moved to his neck and his hand began moving down below his balls.
Sam hummed, intent on licking the salt off Dean's skin, biting and pulling.
"Go on, Sammy. Know how much of a slut you are. Bet you were going through reports and all you could think about was fucking me, weren't you?"
Sam whimpered; Dean was right to the letter.
"Go on, baby. I want you too, wanna feel your thick cock stretching me wide, want you inside me, fucking me hot and dirty…"
A keening sound escaped Sam's throat before he moved to finger Dean's hole, fingers coated with lube with a single click of the tongue. He put in another, then another, Dean groaning and pushing against Sam's hand before the King of Hell finally pressed the head of his cock to Dean's opening.
"Fuck me, Sam, fuck your older brother on his work table."
Sam's hips stuttered forward before driving his cock straight into Dean, hitting his prostate dead on. A cry escaped Dean's lips and his short nails dug into Sam's shoulder, egging him on.
He fucked Dean slow and hot, moving his head to Dean's neck. Winking his eye to make his teeth grow into pointed fangs for a just a second, he sank them into his brother's neck. The fangs disappeared and he fastened his mouth around the wound as thick, red blood flowed out.
"Drink up, baby, gotta keep my King good and strong, don't I?" Dean gasped, somehow still managing to control Sam even when he was bottoming. And Sam would be lying if he said he didn't love it.
His tongue ran over the broken skin, drinking down the liquid that oozed through. His hips moved slowly but surely, letting Dean feel every moment but he sped his movements as he lapped up his brother's warm, sweet blood.
He didn't even drink from normal demons anymore, it was only Dean. Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to his big brother's blood. He rammed Dean's prostate now, moving a hand to wrap around his brother's cock.
Dean's moans increased before Sam felt hot come spurt over his fist. Dean's arms wrapped around Sam's shoulders as he tilted his neck even more, running a hand through Sam's hair.
"Go on, sweetheart, go on…"
Sam whimpered, mouth falling from Dean's neck and hips jerking before he felt himself release, come filling Dean's hole. Stars burst in his vision and he felt his muscles shuddering as he rode out his high, licking the few drops of blood that came out from Dean's clotting wound.
His arms that braced himself above Dean gave out with the intensity of his orgasm and he fell onto Dean, who wrapped Sam tightly in his arms, cooing to him as Sam trembled, stroking his sweaty hair and talking him through the aftershocks.
They cuddled for a while, Sam's nuzzling Dean's neck and breathing in his scent and Dean running his fingers through Sam's hair and rubbing his back and side.
"Baby boy, we gotta get up," Dean said gently, when he felt Sam's breathing slow. "Don't want you sleeping on this table."
Sam hmphed but sat up slowly, letting Dean get up and ease Sam to his feet. "Come on, my King," he said teasingly, pulling him down the hallway to their bed chamber.
His little brother placed all of his weight on Dean, who supported him easily and said groggily, "Yes, Master."
Dean felt a thrill at those words; he'd have to remember them the next time Sam came to watch him work.
Chapter 3: Castiel Pops In While The Boys Bake
Sam and Dean, with the help of Castiel, get ready for Christmas
"Sam Winchester if I find you in here one more time you're not getting any!"
His lover laughed, his towering build shaking as he scrambled out of the kitchen, a cookie in his hand.
"Come on, you made like fifty!"
"And there'll be only four left if you keep that up."
Sam huffed good naturedly and munched on his cookie, slipping back into the kitchen when he was done. "So, uh, Dean…"
He quickly held up his hands in surrender when his brother raised the spoon that was mixing the cookie dough menacingly. "Can't I ice the ones you've already made?"
Dean narrowed his eyes at him but handed over a tray, passing the tubes of cookie icing. "Don't eat any," he said, knowing damn well Sam was going to eat as much as he could without making a big difference.
He turned back to the dough, continuing to mix, and was feeding Sam some of it when there was the flutter of wings. "Hey, Cas."
"Hello Dean, Sam." Cas squinted, looking in confusion was Sam licked the dough off of Dean's thumb. "Is that not supposed to be baked first?"
"Tastes better like this," the younger Winchester said, smacking his lips and reaching out for the bowl.
"So you can get salmonella and we get three cookies out of this whole bowl? Get back to icing." Dean whacked Sam gently on the knuckles with the spoon and began rolling out the dough.
Sam pouted and began squeezing red icing onto a cookie, a special one for Dean. He smiled slightly to himself as he drew a miniature penis on it and hit it below some greaseproof paper before looking up at Cas. When he saw the angel, Castiel had his back to them, looking at the decorations around the bunker.
Sam grinned and whispered over at Dean, who looked up. He raised an eyebrow and Sam nodded towards Cas. Dean glanced over and grinned back at Sam. The two went over to the unsuspecting angel and simultaneously kissed him on either cheek.
Castiel blinked and looked at them in confusion. "Why did you-" Dean pointed above him.
The brothers both gave him wide smiles and walked into the kitchen to finish their cookies. When Dean turned around from putting the tray in the over, he leaned against the counter, a smile tugging at his lips. Both Sam and Cas were hunched over the counter, eyebrows furrowed in heavy concentration as they decorated the cookies.
Dean walked over, standing behind Sam, and put his hands on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss his lover on the temple. "These look great, you two," he commented, reaching out to sample a cookie with a Christmas tree on it.
"Don't touch!" He jumped when Sam smacked his hand away. "Not till they're done."
"Well, see who doesn't want anyone taking the cookies now," Dean laughed, squeezing Sam's shoulders.
He grabbed up a tube of red icing, sitting beside them and beginning to help them decorate the cookies. Halfway through, Sam began chuckling.
"What?" asked Castiel, looking up from a cookie that seemed to be nothing more than numerous circles in white icing.
"Dean… he made like a million cookies… there's only two of us and you don't even eat. What the hell are we going to do with these?"
Dean shrugged. "Wrap them up and give them away to homeless people?" he suggested.
"That's a very good idea," Castiel said, tilting his head.
"Yeah… it is…" Sam mused, considering it. "Let's do it."
"Seriously?" Dean raised his eyebrow at the hunter and the angel.
"Why not? We can't eat all of it, and better than it spoiling or something," Sam said, getting up as the timer went off to get the last tray of cookies out.
They decorated the rest then Dean made three mugs of hot chocolate, spraying them with whipped cream. Castiel looked at his mug in confusion.
"Dean, I don't eat your food."
"Just try it Cas, you'll like it," Sam coaxed.
Castiel sighed but drank the warm drink slowly, blinking in surprise. Before Dean or Sam could say anything, he tipped back the entire mug and drank the whole thing.
"That is a very enjoyable drink," he stated, setting it down and wiping the whipped cream off of his nose.
Dean snorted. "Yeah Cas, it's pretty enjoyable. Come on, we're gonna watch a movie."
"I must go."
"Where?" Sam asked.
He sighed. "Gabriel told me to meet him, he said we were going to have fun." He looked at the Winchesters uncertainly. "Do you think Gabriel would do anything –"
"Have fun, Cas!" the boys cried, chuckling. Castiel sighed again, looking nervous, and was gone with a flutter of wings.
Dean grabbed a plate of cookies and picked up his mug, nudging Sam on his way out. "Come on."
Sam went to follow him, but stopped. "Oh! I almost forgot." He retrieved Dean's cookie from under the wax paper and held it out to him. "Specially made," he said, a shit eating grin on his face.
Dean stared at the cookie before rummaging in the plate and pulling out a cookie from the very bottom. "Dude." Sam burst out laughing as Dean held up a cookie decorated with a green penis and snatched it, following him to the couch.
The brothers curled up close to each other on the couch, kept warm by a blanket, sipping their hot chocolate and licking the whipped cream off of each others' noses. Dean fed Sam a cookie, leaning forward and kissing him softly.
"Merry Christmas, baby boy."
"Merry Christmas," Sam responded, kissing him back and nuzzling his face into Dean's neck. "I love you, Dean."
"Love you too, Sammy."
When Castiel returned, he found the boys asleep on the couch, limbs tangled with each other. He fixed the blanket, which had slipped off, back over them and switched off the television which had end credits rolling on the screen. He sat down on a chair and watched over his two favourite humans as the night passed.
As he reached up to scratch his head, his hand came down covered in pink glitter. He sighed, watching his sparkling hand.
Chapter 4: Wincest - Phone Sex
Sam's sexually frustrated during his time at Stanford, but a phonecall to his big brother changes that pretty quickly.
Sam tossed and turned in his narrow bed, struggling to fall asleep. He sighed, looking around the dimly lit room and glanced over at the empty bed of his roommate, who was probably out getting laid right now. Sam sighed heavily again, he wasn’t going to fall asleep tonight, at least, not easily.
He knew what the problem was though. He knew the second he realized he was constantly distracted from fully focusing on anything. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, and let his hand run down his chest to his crotch, cupping the bulge through his boxers.
His hand palmed himself before he slipped his fingers into the waistband and wrapped them around his half hard length, tugging at the flesh. A frustrated sound escaped him; this was the problem.
Constantly, constantly, he was dissatisfied. No matter how many times he jerked off, how many blowjobs he got in the bathroom, male and female alike, no matter how much porn he watched, the full release he needed never came. There was only one person who could do that for him. Who could take proper care of him.
It burned inside him, day and night, every time he came he suddenly wanted to come again. And again. And again. Because maybe that was the only way to get the constant needy feeling inside of him out. He tugged on his cock, but his hand was too familiar, his cock accustomed.
He looked over at the empty bed again and bit his lip. Keeping his hand in his boxers, he reached over the side of the bed and retrieved his cell phone from the floor. Flipping it open and speed dialing so that he wouldn't have time to talk himself out of doing it and why it was a bad idea, he put it to his ear.
It ran twice until someone picked up. “Sam?”
His heart stopped and his hand stilled. His breathing halted. The voice he hadn’t heard in a month. The voice he constantly imagined, trying to replicate the roughness with the voice in his head but never quite getting it, was suddenly right there.
He didn’t say anything, he didn’t know why. Words just wouldn’t come to mind. Not even realizing it, his hand began moving on his cock again, and blood began rushing.
“Sam? You there?”
His cock rose to full hardness and his lips parted. “Dean,” he breathed.
There was a sound of relief on the other side. “Hey man… s’late, isn’t it? How are you?” Dean sounded normal, but there was the slight awkwardness and hesitancy which was to be expected; they hadn’t spoken in a month.
A soft, breathy groan escaped his throat, almost like a sigh and his chest tightened, had Dean heard? Shamefully, his hand kept moving on his cock, stroking the hard, pulsing flesh.
“Sam?” Dean’s voice was noticeable deeper. There was silence, Sam stroking and Dean, well, he had no idea what Dean was doing. “…you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?”
A pang exploded in his stomach, mixed with undeniable pleasure. Just the sound of Dean saying those words made his cock twitch in his hand. He gasped, air suddenly becoming hard to get.
“Oh yeah, you’re definitely touching yourself. Couldn’t sleep, I’m guessing. ‘Cause you were too damn horny, weren’t you? You probably started to palm yourself then realized it wouldn’t be enough.”
Sam’s body jerked, hips bucking off the bed to meet his hand as Dean described everything he’d just done, sounding much hotter coming from his mouth.
“God… I can just imagine you. Lying in your bed, lights off, hand in your pants. No… you sleep in your boxers, don’t you?”
A soft whimper escaped him and he reached over, putting the phone on loudspeaker and laying it next to his pillow.
“Your roommate there, Sammy? Bet you’d love that, jerking off while talking to your older brother and he’s right there, able to wake up any minute. But you were always shy; you’re alone, aren’t you?”
“Where’s your hand?”
It took him a while to realize it was a question and he hurried to answer, stumbling over his words. “Just where you said.”
“Push down your boxers, Sam. Take out your cock.”
He shut his eyes, skin becoming damp with sweat and obediently took his cock out, keeping his hand wrapped around it, but not moving.
“Stroke it, Sam, wrap that big hand of yours ‘round that thick cock and rub yourself, slowly.”
A shudder ran through him, his toes curling and eyes shutting tightly, and his hand moved to do as Dean instructed. The pleasure that coursed through him was unbelievable, unreal. Hot fire burned in his veins as he jerked himself, soft groans leaking out of him.
“I could see you, baby boy. Your eyes scrunched up, mouth open, covers in one mess at your feet, waiting on instructions. Always so obedient for me, aren’t you Sammy? Always so good.”
He keened softly, his heart speeding up and hands trembling. “Dean…”
“I have you, Sam, I’m here, I’m gonna take care of you. Reach down with your other hand, cup your balls. Don’t do anything, just hold them.”
Sam knew Dean knew he was on loudspeaker; his brother knew him too well. Cupping his balls with a hand damp with sweat, he arched his back, body trembling.
“Run your finger over your slit, nice and slow… bet you’re leaking precome all over, aren’t you? Rub it all over that hard cock, just on the head.”
Sam whimpered, doing as Dean said, letting the thick liquid cover his thumb as he coated the head of his cock.
“Now really touch yourself, baby boy. Jerk your cock, fast, and massage your balls. Make all those hot, dirty little sounds for me, go on.”
Sam’s body jerked and his hand tugged on the hard, hot flesh, caressing his balls and hips bucking, trying to get more. He chanted Dean’s name, seeing those dark, hungry green eyes behind his eyelids, pushing him on.
“That’s it, that’s it… God, could see you, twisting in your bed, pushing up those hips to meet your hands… Sound so hot, Sammy, those needy little moans, fucking hell, little brother…”
Cries tore from his throat, almost like sobs. His shirt clung to his skin, sweat covering his body, bangs plastered uncomfortably to his forehead, but he didn’t care. It was only Dean, Dean and his voice and fucking Dean.
“So needy baby, so dirty, those filthy sounds coming that mouth. Anyone at Stanford know what a cock sucker you are, sweetheart? How those lips wrap around a cock so perfectly, how you deep throat like it’s second nature? Any of them know what a slut you are?”
Groans filled the room, air becoming too thick and he gasped, choking out Dean’s name, hips canting and legs shaking.
“They don’t, do they? ‘Cause you’re only like that with your big brother, only a little cockslut for me, aren’t you? Always willing to go down on your knees for me.”
Dean’s name tore from him, broken and begging, moans becoming pleads as he sobbed for Dean to give him what he needed.
“You’re close, aren’t you? Yeah you are, I can hear it, your breathing always gets shallower, you know that? And your eyes scrunch up tighter and your toes curl till they hurt.”
Sweat poured from him as his body shook and trembled. “Dean, Dean please, please, Dean, need… need – ”
“Come for me, baby boy. Come for your big brother. Come, Sammy, come.”
A broken cry choked its way past his lips as hot come spurted from his cock. Stars burst in his vision and he suddenly felt as though his mind was being flung through the air, no longer a part of him. His bucked as ropes shot out from the slit and he thrashed wildly, Dean’s name forcing its way out of him.
His back slammed against the bed as he came down from his high, body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm; the first real one he’d had since he left Dean. Panting, he reached across and took the phone off loudspeaker, putting it to his ear.
“That was so freaking hot, baby boy.” Dean was out of breath too and Sam felt a smile tugging at his lips.
“You got off on that?”
“Well damn Sammy, ‘course I did, how could I not? You and those desperate little sounds, moaning like a fucking pornstar.”
He huffed a laugh and there was a comfortable silence until he rolled onto his side, switching the phone to his other ear and suddenly whispering. “Dean… I need to see you. I… I miss you.”
There was a pause before Dean breathed out. “I miss you too Sam, so freaking much. Hearing you like that on the phone…”
Sam’s lower lip trembled and he begged softly. “Please, Dean, I need you… please, please, please…”
“Shh baby, shh. Tomorrow night, eight, first motel in the phonebook.”
His heart stilled. “Really? Dean… are you serious?”
Sam could hear the smile in the response.
“’Course I am. Don’t forget the lube.”
I KNOW I'M HORRIBLY LATE. I've actually had this thing written since 2015, and for some reason, was too lazy to upload them. But no one's really reading these one shots anyway, most of the readers are on my first set of one shots, so I don't think you guys would mind so much. If you do, I'm terribly sorry, especially since my only excuse was that I've been lazy (for 3 years).
Chapter 5: Brothers - Fear of Clowns
Dean leaves Sam at Plucky Penwhistle's in the hands of working teenagers, screaming children, and unfortunately, clowns.
“You good, Sam? Backpack, pencil case, everything, right?”
Sam nodded, sighing inwardly. Once again, Dean was leaving him at the place of torture so he could go looking for some girl to hook up with.
“Alright, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Buy yourself some ice cream.” Dean held out a few dollars and Sam took it, stepping back and watching the black Impala roar out of the parking lot. He turned around, facing the brightly coloured building and went inside.
“Hi! Welcome to Plucky Penwhistle’s Magical Menagerie! I’m Jessie, and…”
Sam let himself be led by the skinny teenager with braces before slipping off. He’d been there way too many times. Clutching his backpack as a crowd of screaming children stampeded past him, he went and bought himself a small cup of ice cream and sat at a table, pulling out his textbook.
He ate bits of the ice cream for lack of something to do, staring unseeingly at the page he was supposed to read for geography. He grimaced and set down the plastic spork they gave him (for ice cream, apparently), getting up to throw away the cup of grainy vanilla mess.
As he tossed the cup into the garbage can, someone spoke next to him. “Well, hi there!”
Sam turned around, forcing a smile on his face, and his heart stopped.
A tall man, face covered in makeup, and rainbow hair in an poof around his head grinned down at him. Sam stammered, his blood running cold. “I – I – I um…”
“I’m Klutzy the Clown! What’s your name?”
His mouth opened and closed and he began to edge away, feeling the blood drain from his face.
“You okay there?” the clown asked, his bright smile dimming a bit.
“I – I h-have t-t-t-o g-go…”
Sam turned and ran as fast as he could, heart pounding. He couldn’t even hear the sound of the children anymore, only the rush of blood in his ears. Not looking where he was going, he bumped into someone and fell right back, landing on his ass.
“Hey, watch yourself, kid.”
His lower lip trembled when a man in long, bright blue trousers turned around, round red nose aiming down at him. “You okay?”
Footsteps behind him made him realize that the other clown finally caught up; he was trapped. “I…” Sam’s voice broke and he drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and burying his head, beginning to sob from terror.
“Whoa, kid? You hurt? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there…”
The clown knelt down next to him and he panicked, scooting away, shouting.
“Stay away! Leave me alone! Go away, please, go away…”
A crowd was forming, curious kids with their fingers in their mouths and stains on their shirts watched as he cried and his cheeks turned red from embarrassment. The clowns tried to help him, but he screamed even more.
Someone else parted the crowd and knelt down next to him. “Hey, come on kid, come with me.”
He looked up, ready to bolt if God forbid a third clown joined this nightmare, but it was the girl from earlier, Jessie.
“Come on…” Skinny as she looked, she picked him up easily, murmuring to one of the clowns, “He probably has coulrophobia.” He hid his face in Jessie’s yellow uniform as she carried him away.
He felt himself being set down and he curled up, whimpering, wiping his nose. “Hey, you want some water or something?”
Sam sniffled, shaking his head. “I want to leave, I wanna go home.”
Jessie put a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. “You have someone I can call?”
“Dean… call Dean, I want Dean. Get Dean, I want him.”
He felt her pat his pockets and she drew out his cell phone. “I’m gonna call him, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Sam nodded, hiccupping, and heard Jessie talking softly some distance away. His cell phone was slipped back into his pocket. “He’ll be here soon.” He hiccupped again and nodded, sniffing softly.
About fifteen minutes later, someone shouted in the building, voice roaring above the constant noise and his head raised. “Dean?”
“Is that him?” Jessie got up when he nodded and went over to him.
“…he’s right here… got freaked out by the clowns…” Dean rushed over to him and he unfolded himself, stretching out his arms, tear stained face looking up at his older brother. Dean’s hair was mussed up, and his clothes looked as though it had been hastily thrown on, no doubt he’d interrupted something when Jessie called.
“Sammy, hey…” Dean bent down, picking him up, which was easy since he was still shorter than him and was all skin and bone.
“De…” he whimpered, burying his face in Dean’s chest, his brother tightening his arms around him.
“I think this is his stuff…”
“Yeah, thanks,” Dean said, as Jessie stuffed his textbook into his bag and zipped it up, helping Dean shoulder it while holding Sam. Jessie walked them to the exit.
“Hey, thanks, it means a lot,” he said, turning to face her.
“No problem, my little sister has a fear of them too.” Sam thanked her, his voice muffled in Dean’s shirt and she patted his arm before turning to go back.
Dean walked to the car, putting Sam’s bag in the back and easing into the driver’s seat. He sat there for a while, holding Sam tightly, stroking his hair.
“You alright, Sammy?”
Sam nodded, pulling away. “Sorry…” he mumbled, looking everywhere but at Dean.
“For what?” Confusion covered his brother’s face.
“Well… you were busy…” Sam said, eyeing Dean’s hair and the wrinkled shirt. A faint blush covered Dean’s cheeks, but he shook his head.
“Sammy, you don’t have to be sorry about calling me when you needed help, no matter what I was doing, understood?”
Sam nodded and Dean pulled out a torn bandana from his pocket, beginning to wipe the snot from his nose before settling him in the passenger seat and driving to the motel. Dean stopped and bought dinner, which they ate along the way.
That night, Dean tucked Sam into bed and kissed him on the forehead, hesitantly and quickly, as if afraid Sam would recoil, but his younger brother simply breathed out and squashed himself further in the cheap motel sheets.
I'm aware that the style of uploading (chapter naming, etc.) is different, but I don't have it in me to care, I'm just uploading because I'd feel bad if there were people following this fic and I just went and deleted chapters they would have wanted to read.
Also sorry to those who left requests, I don't think I'll be writing them. Then again, you never know, since I am updating this after 3 years. But still don't get your hopes up.
Chapter 6: Fledglings Cas and Balth
Castiel and Balthazar decide they want snow, and they want it now.
“C’mon Daddy, please, please, please!”
Michael and Lucifer chuckled from their father’s sides as two young fledglings rolled around on the ground, bumping into each other and their Father’s feet.
“We’ll be good! Please, Dad, please!” the blond one repeated, curling himself around God’s feet and hanging on.
The other, a dark haired, blue eyed one, more shy than his brother, sat up and pouted, his eyes growing wide.
“If the humans can have it, why can’t we?”
God laughed, a lovely, warm sound and looked down at His youngest sons. “Not everywhere on Earth has it, you know, and some humans seem quite fine with that fact,” He said, looking down on them.
“Then just make it happen in one place! Like the garden! Or maybe the arena!”
“Father, if I may, I do think the others would be quite pleased with it,” Lucifer intervened. The two fledglings bounced when their older brother chimed in and turned their wide eyes to their Father.
God huffed good naturedly and looked at Michael, who watched them amusedly and grinned widely when he realized his Father was watching him. “I don’t mind, Father.”
“Very well, you persuasive lot,” He said, His eyes twinkling down at the tiny angels. He waved His hand and sat patiently on his Throne, waiting.
The fledglings were not as patient.
“Where is it?”
“Is that it there?”
“That’s a bit of silk from your robe come undone, Cassie! It’s supposed to be cold.”
Michael and Lucifer exchanged smiles. A single snowflake drifted down from the sky, landing right on the dark haired fledgling’s nose.
He went crossed eyed and blinked, shaking his head. Then another came floating down, landing right in front of the blond one. “It’s here! It’s here! It’s snowing!”
“It’s snowing!” repeated the other, beginning to run around in circles.
More snowflakes drifted down until it began to fall steadily and the fledglings ran around, falling over themselves and each other in excitement.
“Michael! Luci! It’s here! It’s snowing!” Their older brothers laughed and went to them, sweeping them up in their arms.
“Yes Castiel, it’s snowing,” Michael said, smiling and swinging around the small fledgling.
“Come now Balthazar, Father has had enough of your brilliant ideas for now,” Lucifer said, walking away with the fledgling on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Dad!” the little ones shouted, waving their arms as best as they could in the air while being carried away by their brothers.
Soon the other angels came out, staring in amazement at the sky.
“Was this your doing?” they asked, when Michael and Lucifer came into view.
“This was from our brilliant fledglings,” Lucifer said, setting down Balthazar so he could run around in the growing pile of snow.
A golden blur whooshed past all the angels before catapulting itself straight into the white ground.
“Cassie and Balth! Knew you two rascals would come through for me!” Gabriel grabbed the fledglings and squeezed them in a hug, ruffling their hair.
“You put them up to this?” Michael gaped, watching the archangel.
“Come on, you know they didn’t think of this themselves,” Lucifer said, giving his brother a wry smile.
“Stop questioning and be happy!” Gabriel cried, grabbing up a handful of snow and throwing it smack against Anna’s cheek.
She blinked, reaching up to dust the snow from her cheek slowly before glaring at Gabriel.
“Why you – ”
She was cut off by another snowball, hitting her directly in the face. Her eyes turned fiery as she watched Gabriel rolling on his back in the snow, convulsed with laughter. Her brothers and sisters began to giggle too and she narrowed her eyes.
Grabbing up a handful of snow, she flung it at Gabriel. But he simply puffed out his cheeks and blew gently. The snowball swerved around and landed directly in Lucifer’s hair. He raised an eyebrow, looking up as snow fell in front of his face, and Michael began laughing.
Of course, that started a full out snowball fight, and snow was pelted with force that would have destroyed trucks, but only making the angels laugh and throw them back equally as strong.
Laughter was heard through all of heaven, sounding like a choir of the most melodious music, and God watched down as his children pummeled each other with snow, laughed, and proceeded to make it snow even more.
Chapter 7: Brothers - Christmas
Sam and Dean celebrate Christmas together.
Sam woke up with a start, his heart hammering and he paused for a moment to figure out why, until he caught sight of the green and red bit of holly on his door.
It was a pretty shitty decoration, but it was all he could find. He leaped off the bed and flung open the door. “Dean!”
“I’m up, I’m up!” Dean tried to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t help the smile that came on his face. He glanced at the doorway to the kitchen, expecting Sam to bound through it any moment.
Sure enough, his gigantic brother skated in front of it, stopping to grin widely at Dean. “It’s Christmas,” he said, his grin becoming so wide Dean wondered if his face would split.
“Yeah, it is.” He spread his arms. “Merry Christmas, Sammy.”
“Merry Christmas, Dean.” Sam crossed over to his older brother and hugged him tightly. Dean slapped Sam’s back, rubbing it before pulling away.
“Please,” Sam said, sitting down.
Dean started on the pancakes while Sam began making coffee, and the brothers soon sat down to eat. Sam glared when Dean cleared his plate and leaned back with his mug.
“Hurry up! We have to open the presents!” he cried.
Dean cast a lazy glance at him. “LotsovtimeSammy,” he mumbled, taking a long, slow drink of his coffee.
“Come on!” Sam tugged at his brother’s arm and Dean relented, trying not to spill the dark liquid as Sam hustled him out of the kitchen.
“Here!” Sam cried, thrusting two newspaper wrapped gifts into Dean’s hand after having retrieved them from a small tree with barely any ornaments on it and a paper star on the top. Dean chuckled at his over excited brother and set down his mug, taking the presents.
Bending over and grabbing a brown paper bag from under tree, he handed it to Sam. He and his little brother sat down on the ground like children and tore into the gifts.
Dean laughed loudly as he rolled out a copy of Busty Asian Beauties and a can of car wax. He looked up to see Sam chuckling at can of hairspray. “Come on,” he said, getting up and tugging on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve got something else for you.”
Sam followed Dean curiously as his brother led him outside. Dean watched as Sam’s eyes widened and his brother gave a delighted shout. “Dean!” he cried, dropping to his knees.
The massive Doberman leapt around, tugging at his leash as he licked Sam’s face. Dean laughed as Sam scratched him behind the ears, his face glowing when he turned to Dean.
“Turns out pet shelters would actually let you borrow their dogs. We have him until tomorrow, then we got to take him back.”
“Take him back?” Sam’s face dimmed slightly.
“You know we can’t keep a dog, we’re always on the road, and it would be too expensive. But if you want to keep him, I suppose I can find a way to…”
“No, no, no,” Sam said, turning his attention back to the dog. “You’re right, we can’t keep one. I don’t think I want one full time either, not right now. But this… this is good.”
He stood up and wrapped his full six foot four self around Dean. He laughed, squeezing his little brother tightly. “Glad you like it, Sammy.”
“Thank you Dean, thank you.”
“Come on, bring him inside. We still have a ham to slice.”
Sam untied the leash and followed his brother, his grin wide and the two boys went inside to celebrate their Christmas, together.
I saw one of two comments on this asking for a fluffy Christmas present exchange, and I think I may have written this for that. Or I could have just written it for whatever, but it works. Sorry for the long wait, I know you're not going to like it because a short, basic one shot is not worth waiting 3 years for, but still, here you go!
Chapter 8: Foursome - Dean, Cas, Sam, Gabe
Dean, Gabriel and Castiel center their night around Sam.
“Shh, Sam, the guard might hear.”
Sam struggled, gasping in the thick, cold air, trying to steady his breathing in the alley outside the bar. Gabriel returned to his cock, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking the crown. “G-Gabe…”
“Steady, Sam.” Castiel’s calm voice entered his ears, and he swallowed thickly, feelings his muscles relax slightly as Cas sealed his hot mouth back on his lips, any moans released being taken into the angel’s mouth.
He leaned back on the warm body behind him that served as his wall, closing his eyes as his older brother stroked his fingers through his hair. “Always were a screamer, weren’t you, Sammy?”
Sam hummed as Cas began mouthing at his earlobe. Gabriel suddenly went straight down on his cock, deep throating him easily, and Sam gasped, hips bucking. Castiel pinched his nipples through his shirt and Dean tsked.
“None of that, little brother,” he said sternly, cradling Sam’s balls in his hand. “You’re not coming till we want you to.”
“Please,” Sam gasped, as Gabriel swallowed around his length. “Please, Dean.” He moved his ass around slightly, rubbing against his brother’s hard on, which pressed against the cleft of his ass.
“Such a tease, baby boy,” Dean murmured, sucking his neck. “Cas?”
Castiel didn’t even move his lips from Sam’s jaw when he snapped his fingers.
Sam looked around, disoriented but definitely still hard. He was on all fours, naked, and Dean, Cas and Gabriel looked down at him.
“So eager,” Gabriel murmured, running his hands through his hair.
Sam panted, arching up at his touch. “Gotta get you ready,” he said, moving around him, Castiel following. Dean knelt in front of him, framing his face with his hands and pulling him into a long, deep kiss.
“Gonna have fun tonight, Sammy,” he murmured, sucking on his tongue before opening his lips and letting Sam take what he wanted.
Suddenly, there was a cold, slick finger slipping in between his ass, rubbing at his hole. Sam groaned, breaking their kiss to push back against the burn. Castiel chuckled lowly from beneath him before raising himself and taking Sam’s leaking cock into his mouth.
Sam didn’t know what could be better; being fingered while getting a blowjob and making out with an amazing kisser. Gabriel worked him swiftly, being rough, exactly how Sam liked it.
Then there were fingers slipping out of his ass, replaced by a blunt end which slowly pushed in. A loud groan escaped him as Gabriel pushed his length in until he was balls deep inside. The second Gabriel bottomed out, Cas deep throated him and Dean pressed the head of his leaking cock to his lips.
Sam opened his mouth eagerly, licking up the precome before wrapping his lips around Dean’s length. His brother pushed in until Sam’s lips were at the base of his cock. There was a pause, then everything happened all at once.
Gabriel and Dean pulled out, Cas let his lips barely wrap around the head, before all three slammed home, moving in unison. Sam felt as is his body was on fire from the pleasure. He groaned as Gabriel slammed his prostate and Castiel brought up a hand, fondling his balls.
Dean’s fingers gripped his hair as he rammed into Sam’s mouth, fucking his face, hitting the back of his throat and making Sam gag, exactly how he loved it. Sam braced himself on one arm, reaching down and taking Cas’ cock in his hand, jerking him off.
It was when Dean started talking dirty to him did he feel his limbs begin to shake.
“God Sammy, if only you could see yourself. Filled up with cock, moaning like a whore. You love this, don’t you? Love being treated like our little slut.”
Sam began to keen from the pleasure, and whimpers began escaping him. Dean stroked his hair, knowing the signs. “Go on, baby boy. Go on, come. Come for us. Come in Cas’ mouth. Go on.”
He shook as his orgasm tore through him, emptying into the angel’s mouth, who swallowed everything Sam gave. Castiel came after, spilling over Sam’s fist. The angel took Sam’s hand, moving his hot tongue around the fingers as he sucked his come clean off. Gabriel’s hips stuttered and then liquid heat filled his ass.
Finally, Dean pounded into Sam twice before grunting and releasing his hot seed into Sam’s mouth, which worked eagerly to lap up all the come from his brother. It was then his arm gave out and he crumpled to the floor, barely missing Cas, still shaking in pleasure and his eyelids slipped shut.
When he woke up, he was wrapped in Dean’s arms, his head inches away from Dean’s. His older brother felt him move and his eyes blinked open sleepily. “Hey, little brother.”
“Hey.” Sam snuggled closer and Dean tucked the blankets around them, kissing his temple.
“Mm, fell right asleep when we finished,” Dean murmured against his skin. A blush covered Sam’s cheek.
“Don't be, not at all. It was gorgeous, the way you lost complete control like that. We just cleaned you up and I took you to bed. We’re doing that again, by the way.”
“Gabe, Cas?” Sam asked, not seeing them knowing the bed wasn’t big enough for all four.
Dean’s eyes moved over his shoulder. “Oh, they’re still going at it,” he said, a smile settling in his face. Sam looked over his shoulder to see the angels on the chair, wrapped tightly around each other, Cas moving up and down slowly, reverently on Gabriel’s lap.
The light glow of the room made the scene gorgeous, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Huh,” Dean said from beside him, “that’s exactly how we felt looking at you.”
At that, Sam turned, his eyes slightly wide. “Really?”
“Really.” A smile tugged at his lips and he forced it away, wriggling closer to Dean and burying his face in his brother’s chest.
A low chuckle rumbled through Dean and the arm around his shoulder tightened, holding him closer. Lips brushed his ear as they whispered good night, and Sam pressed a kiss to Dean’s bare chest before shutting his eyes, the sound of whispered moans lulling him to sleep.
Chapter 9: Brothers - Michael and Lucifer
Michael and his little brother.
Michael was curious when Father gave him a fledgling to take care of. He thought that ‘Lucifer’ was an odd name.
My name’s better.
Michael was peeved when the fledgling named him ‘Mikey’.
My name is Michael!
Michael was annoyed when he followed him everywhere.
Leave me alone!
Michael was smug when Lucifer looked up to him (literally) when he taught him to fly.
I can do it and he can’t.
Michael was vexed when Lucifer didn’t listen to him and got himself a torn wing from climbing the tallest tree in the Garden of Eden.
I told him not to, and now I have to fix his stupid wing.
Michael was exasperated when Lucifer began to challenge Father.
Why can’t he just accept what Father says?
Michael was angry when Lucifer refused to accept humans.
Father said to worship them!
Michael was raging when he began rebelling.
I hate that he always disobeys!
Michael was red with fury when he threw his little brother into a cage.
I loved him.
Chapter 10: Wincest + Adam - Cock Worship
Sam and Adam have been home starving but Dean (and his dick) finally arrive to sate their hunger.
A smile covered the hunter’s face as two bodies hurled themselves on him, mouths already lapping at his neck. “Hey, little brothers,” he said, chuckling, as they eagerly kissed his neck, Adam already slipping a hand under his shirt.
Sam’s hand covered his crotch and was rubbing the growing erection. “Hungry Dean, please,” Adam murmured, sucking his earlobe.
“That right? Better do something about that, huh?” Dean turned his head to catch Adam’s lips with his own, sucking his tongue before pulling away. “Sammy, c’mere.”
Sam lifted his head and Dean reached up, capturing his mouth, sucking on biting on his lower lip. Sam groaned into his mouth before pulling away, fingers moving to the button on his jeans.
“Alright, alright, easy tiger.” Dean eased his two brothers off of him and watched them both, hair messy, eyes full blown with need, lips kiss swollen. “Clothes, off.”
They fell over themselves undressing, while Dean followed at a more dignified pace, stifling a laugh as his two naked brothers watched him impatiently.
When he was finally undressed, he walked over to them, wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist and pulling him close, putting an arm on Adam’s shoulder and pushing him down. Immediately, he got to his knees, taking Dean’s cock in his mouth.
Dean then turned to Sam, pressing his lips against his and sliding his tongue easily into Sam’s eager mouth. Flicking a finger to play with his brother’s nipples, he dominated Sam’s mouth, roughly taking what he wanted, loving how Sam, his needy, willing little slut, took all of it, moaning the whole time.
When his hips began to buck into Adam’s mouth, the youngest Winchester began to moan, letting his jaw go slack as Dean fucked his face. He pulled out as he felt himself nearing the edge, and the boys switched places, Adam pressing against him and Sam swallowing down his cock as though he was starving.
Dean moved his lips to Adam’s neck, knowing his brother had a thing for neck kisses and sure enough, he began rutting his cock against Dean’s hip. Sucking a dark, purple spot into his neck, he pulled away with a groan, pushing down Adam and pulling his cock from Sam’s mouth.
Both boys leaned forward, mouths open and tongues out as Dean jacked his cock hard and fast, feeling himself come to the edge. Adam pushed forward, but Sam held back, not minding Adam getting it head on.
Dean felt his balls tighten and before he knew it his orgasm racked his body, ropes of white streaking out. Adam caught the majority in his mouth while Sam took the stray drops he managed to get. Dean was about to reprimand Adam for not letting Sam get a chance, when he turned and pressed his lips to Sam’s.
The oldest Winchester groaned softly, watching his two younger brothers kiss, Sam lapping the come from Adam’s mouth, licking his tongue. They swallowed Dean’s spunk before leaning forward for another hot, open mouthed kiss, wet and dirty.
Dean grinned to himself, pulling on his jeans and moving to the kitchen to get something to eat, leaving his two comesluts to passionately make out, licking his taste out of each other’s mouths.
Chapter 11: Wincest + Jealous Castiel
Castiel's heart yearned for Dean. But the hunter belonged to his younger brother, and no one else.
Castiel clenched his teeth, trying to block out the sounds and scent in an attempt to ease the longing in his stomach. But it was impossible. He could smell it, the arousal.
“Dean… we can’t… Cas said he’d come tonight… what if…”
The youngest Winchester’s protests were cut off with a sharp cry, a shuddering gasp of his brother’s name after.
Cas curled his hands into fists, wishing that he could just turn it off. Wishing he could turn it all off, his enhanced hearing, supernatural sense of smell… his unrequited and hopeless longing for Dean.
“Shh Sammy… he won’t be back for ages… got more than enough time, little brother.”
There was the sound of lips leaving skin, a tender sound, not rushed or hurried. Rustle of cloth… slide of skin over skin… soft suckling noises. The lovebites would be visible above Sam’s collar tomorrow.
A choking breath escaped Castiel, how he hated this. He hated how he was never able to tear himself away whenever he heard them becoming intimate. He hated how he wanted Dean so badly.
He yearned to feel those rough, calloused hands on his skin, to hear the whiskey rough voice in his ear, to feel those soft lips on his. To kiss that tattoo above his heart, to stroke the spiked hair. But he couldn’t. He would never be able to feel or do those things.
“Taste so good Sammy, love how you taste…”
A soft keen. Castiel didn’t need any evidence to tell him Sam was probably arching his back, pushing his hips up to meet Dean’s.
A soft chuckle. “Eager, aren’t you? Easy there. I gotcha…”
The sound of a belt buckle, then the slide of material against skin, and the soft clump of the buckle landing somewhere on the floor of the Impala. Then the sounds repeated themselves and Castiel immediately smelled the musk of both boys.
No, Cas would never be able to get even a hint of it. Because Dean belonged completely to Sam. And the younger was completely devoted to his older brother. Nothing could come between them, definitely not Castiel. No matter what he did, Dean would always put Sam first.
“Please… please De… want you in me, please…”
The snap of a bottle cap being flicked open. “Easy baby boy, easy…”
The soft whimper Sam gave as Dean no doubt breached him, the soft squelch of his finger sliding in and out.
Yes… Sam would always be the only one in Dean’s eyes. There were times Cas thought he maybe had a chance, times when Dean would look at him just a little second longer than usual, times when he would stand close to him and Dean wouldn’t move away. But the second Sam came, the spark grew in Dean’s eyes, something he could never be able to give.
The smack of skin against skin as Dean rubbed the lube over himself, the soothing whispers into Sam’s ear as he eased himself in.
Silence then, but only for a short while, Sam obviously didn’t need much time to adjust; he was used to Dean’s size. “Move, please, big brother…”
Then the slow, uneven soft clap of skin against skin, before becoming more confident, louder, faster. The dirty murmurings of the older Winchester as Sam cried out with every thrust.
Castiel had come to terms with the fact he couldn’t have Dean a long time ago. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It pained him, seeing the love Dean would look at Sam with, the jealousy that churned in his stomach when he saw them kissing. How he wanted to tear Sam away, to put himself there instead. But Dean didn’t want him.
“De… De… oh God, Dean…”
“That’s it baby boy, that’s it. Wanna hear you scream, no one around for miles. Scream for me, Sammy.”
The slick slide of a hand against skin, the growing whimpers of Sam before he began crying out Dean’s name.
“Yes… yes, oh God Sam, no idea how hot you look right now, fuck, Sammy…”
The satisfied groan, the panting breaths as they both came down from their highs, the sweet nothings Dean whispered to his little brother as he kissed him tenderly.
Castiel seethed, knowing he’d have to make his presence known, have to see Dean’s arms with red scratches from Sam clawing at him, have to see the fresh red circles on Sam’s neck, their messy hair and rumpled clothes. Knowing Sam would have been able to get that pleasure but not him; the struggle of treating him amicably despite the envy within him.
“I love you, De.”
“And I love you, little brother.”
The contented silence for a while, the scratch of fingers brushing against a scalp, the smell of sex heavy in the air.
“Come on, baby boy, gotta get cleaned up.”
The reluctant grumble, the sound of tissues being crumpled and clothing being put back into place, things being buttoned and buckled and laced.
When left alone to his thoughts, Castiel resented Sam. He saw red thinking about him, nothing but pure hatred coursing in his veins because of how Sam was the reason he would never even have a chance with Dean. How he longed for Sam to just disappear from the picture, for Cas to be able to comfort Dean about the loss of his brother, eventually grow closer, end up together. Every time he was alone and his thoughts drifted to Dean (which was almost always), he burned with resentment for the younger Winchester.
But in his presence, found he could not be unkind to Sam, the boy was too gentle, too kind, too innocent (althought the things he and Dean did were most decidedly, not innocent. A bright, dimpled smile and an excited 'Cas!' every time he saw him reminded Castiel that Sam wasn't at fault here. And that made Castiel even more upset; that he couldn’t fully hate the object of his misery. He breathed out and flew to stand in front of the car after about five minutes.
The brothers were back in the front seat, separating at the sound of Castiel’s wings. Sam blushed, lips swollen, and gave a shy wave, avoiding his gaze, whereas Dean grinned, oblivious. “Hey, Cas!”
“Hello Dean, Sam.”
He moved around to the back door, another thing he would never be able to do; to sit in the passenger seat. Even when it was just him and Dean, Dean refused to anyone else to sit beside him but Sam.
“Real good timing there, Sam and I just finished our research for the hunt in Houston.”
And if Castiel noticed the wink Dean gave and the darkening of Sam’s cheeks, he set his jaw and pretended he wasn’t seeing green as Dean kept a hand on Sam’s thigh as he started the engine and began to drive.
Chapter 12: Destiel - Voyeurism
Castiel watches Dean get himself off, and is about to leave when Dean finishes, but then the hunter calls him in.
Castiel bit his lip, he shouldn’t be watching this.
But he couldn’t stop. It was riveting. He knew humans did this for pleasure, but he’d never seen it. He knew it was dirty, wrong, to do and to watch. But it was so… captivating.
At least, watching Dean it was.
The hunter’s eyes were on the screen, which showed a couple becoming… intimate. His green eyes were almost black with lust, and Cas pressed as close to the door frame as he could, hiding himself as he stared. Dean’s hands were on his penis, or cock, he supposed. It stood tall and red, the tip of it leaking a clear substance.
His hands moved up and down, wrapped in a fist, twisting at the top sometimes. And his mouth, God, his mouth. The plush bottom lip was caught between his teeth. Soft grunts escaped him and his hips began to cant upwards, moving in time with his hand.
Cas stifled a whimper, feeling a stirring in his groin. Dean let out a moan, and his hand went even faster, until he began grunting softly and a white substance spurted out, spilling over his hand and onto his jeans, which were pushed halfway down his thighs.
His eyes shut and a low groan dragged out as he squeezed himself, pushing out a few more drops before releasing it, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand and swiftly cleaning his mess and fixing his pants back into place. He picked up the remote and changed the channel before turning off the television.
Castiel was about to slip away when he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Enjoyed it, Cas?”
His mouth began to stutter soundlessly and his fingers waggled in nervousness.
“Come on, I knew you were there. Come here.”
Face red, he shuffled forward, trying to arrange his thoughts, eyes on the floor. “Dean, I – I apologize, I shouldn’t have done that…”
“Shh…” Startled, he stopped talking, feeling the hunter’s rough hand on his chin, lifting his head.
And then those bitten lips were on his, moving gently, tenderly, and Cas felt a broken whimper push past his throat. His knees buckled before he even realized, but Dean’s arm was immediately around his waist, pulling him flush against his hard body.
Letting his lips fall open, he felt Dean’s tongue slide inside, stroking his own tongue, sucking on his lower lip. He lost himself in the taste of the hunter, the hand sliding through his hair, the strong grip around his waist.
Dean pulled away, a finger stroking his cheek. “Bet watching me gave you a little problem, didn’t it?”
Cas looked at Dean, confused, until he felt his hand rubbing his crotch, and he remembered the arousal he felt earlier, which grew during the kiss and now felt hot and angry inside his pants.
Dean gave a low chuckle. “Not so little, actually.”
He pulled him to stand in front of a mirror, lips going to his ear. “You ever touch yourself, Cas?”
“T-touch myself?” he repeated, distracted by the hot breath going down his neck.
Another low laugh. “Masturbate, Cas. You ever masturbated before?”
A soft groan, then a bite on his ear lobe. “Then pay attention.” Dean’s hand turned Cas’ head to look at the mirror in front of them. Castiel stared as Dean’s hands moved to his waistband, fingers flicking open the button, tugging on the zipper, hands pushing down his pants, and oh goodness, his hand on his cock.
The calloused hand felt slightly uncomfortable on his cock, which was extraordinarily sensitive, but as his lips moved to suck on his neck, he got a little distracted. Then a finger slid through the wetness gathering on the top, rubbing it over his cock, and then coupled with Dean’s hot hand sliding up and down, no wonder humans liked this.
All too soon, he felt heat gathering in his stomach and his toes curled as a loud moan escaped his mouth, and just like Dean, the white substance spilled out over his hand, also, just like Dean. The hunter didn’t seem bothered by it, grinning at him in the mirror, and jeez, was that him looking so flushed and weak?
Grabbing a few tissues, he cleaned him up and tucked him back into his pants, sliding up the zipper and fitting the button through the hole, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot kiss. “You know Cas, I’m pretty sure your eyes were closed the entire time and you didn’t see a thing I did.”
“Huh?” Cas mumbled intelligently.
“Oh yeah, you didn’t learn a thing. I’ll have to teach again, sometime, wouldn’t I?” Dean asked, pressing his lips back to his mouth.
Castiel would have replied affirmative, but his tongue was suddenly very occupied.
Chapter 13: Sastiel - Smut
Sam's lusting after Castiel, wet dreams and dirty thoughts and everything. But no one told him that angels could read minds.
A soft groan pushed its way from Sam’s lips and he stared up at the ceiling in the dark room, the hand down his pants now sticky, his boxers clinging to his skin. Glancing over quickly to his brother’s silhouette, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no movement, and threw off the covers, going into the bathroom.
Grabbing a wet cloth, he began to clean the mess he made, taking off his boxers and setting them at the side. He wet a hand, running it across his face. Yet another wet dream, and still about the same person.
The same, messy dark haired, blue eyed person.
God, Sam wanted him, more than anything. What he would do to feel Cas’ lips on his, their bodies pressed together… He quickly shook his head, knowing it would never happen.
Castiel never showed any interest in him, any interest in anyone, truth be told, male or female. And Sam? He knew he was gay a long time ago, he just hadn’t told anyone.
Anyone specifically being Dean.
It was one whole mess; Sam liking an asexual man while being around someone 24/7 who never even considered the thought of him being gay. And nothing good was going to come out of it, at least, not for him.
He grabbed his boxers and turned off the light, shuffling back in the room in darkness. After fishing out another pair from his duffel and stowing the cum stained one, he crawled back in his bed, huffing a soft sigh before falling asleep.
The next day greeted them with no leads on their case and an empty fridge. Dean cursed, crunching the last can of beer in his hand and flinging it in the small bin. “Man, this sucks.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, watching as Dean lazed on the bed, watching him do all the research. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“Think Cas knows anything?”
Sam’s hands hesitated for a second on the keyboard, before he flexed his fingers and continued typing, trying to sound neutral. “Yeah, probably.”
“Oh great Castiel, with your amazingly poor reflexes and stunning sense of no humour, we implore you to grant us the presence of your wrinkled trenchcoat.”
Sam couldn’t stop the grin at yet another one of Dean’s ridiculous prayers. “You know, one of these days he’s gonna show up and he’s gonna be pissed.”
“Yeah well, I’ll stop when he takes the damn thing off.” Dean stopped, his mouth open but saying nothing, before letting out a loud burp.
“I thought that custom was frowned upon.”
Sam jumped at the gravelly voice, looking up to see Castiel standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“So is wrinkled clothing, Cas. Anyway, what do you know about creatures that kill people and then take away only their index finger?”
Castiel walked over to the wall where they’d stuck up all the newspaper clippings, post-its and blurred pictures, pressing his finger against a black and white photograph. Sam stared at his hand, beginning to imagine that long finger stuffed inside of him, pushing in and out…
He swallowed, trying to will down the hard on that was forming, when Cas’ eyes turned to him, a curious stare on his face, and Sam got the feeling Cas knew exactly what he was thinking. A stab of panic went through his mind, but Castiel turned away. “It’s a maldrab,” he stated.
“A maldrab? How do we kill it?” Dean asked.
“A silver blade through the heart, but it must be done during a full moon.”
Checking the calendar, Sam pointed out to Dean they could only do it the next night.
His older brother huffed. “Nothing to eat, nothing to kill, I’m going crazy. Going out for some supplies, you want anything?” Dean asked, grabbing his keys and looking at Sam.
Sam shook his head and Dean yanked open the door, the engine rumbling to life in a few seconds and tires squealing. It was only then did Sam realize he was now alone with Cas, and fuck that definitely was not good.
Pushing away from the table, he went over to the small kitchenette, beginning to make himself a cup of coffee. He cleared his throat, trying to break the awkward silence. “So, uh, what exactly is a maldrab?”
There was no reply, no sound behind him, and his shoulders slumped; he left. Sighing, he dropped the spoon on the counter, abandoning his coffee, and contemplated whether or not he was upset enough to call Dean and ask him to bring some heavy liquor.
As he turned around, he was suddenly pushed back to the counter, a soft gasp escaping him when he felt a long, lean body against his. Looking up, he saw Castiel’s eyes boring straight through his and he began to stutter, struggling to string together a sentence while his mind went into overdrive.
“Those were some interesting thoughts, Sam.” The angel’s mouth was at his ear but when it happened he didn’t know. A shudder ran through him as he felt the hot breath against his skin, the angel’s lips ghosting over his jaw.
Then what Cas said registered, and his blood ran cold. How did…
“Most angels can read minds,” Castiel said, just a slight hint of amusement in his words.
Sam curled up into a ball of humiliation inside his head, especially as he remembered some of the thoughts he had had, and tried to explain.
“No need to be embarrassed, I found it most… interesting.” The gravelly voice went straight to his cock, and he tried not to pay too much attention in an attempt to will it down, at least enough until he could take care of it. Then he felt hot lips press against his neck, a searing kiss burning into his skin, and he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him.
“C-Cas,” he began, trying to understand what was happening, trying to take it slow, but the hand that already made its way to the black, messy hair contradicted everything.
“Yes, Sam?” Cas’ lips didn’t move from his skin.
Running his fingers through the soft, silky hair, he clung onto it, arching his neck and gave a whispered plea. “More, please…”
The angel’s lips immediately clamped onto his neck, a soft tongue beginning to lick at his skin, and he groaned again, pushing his body against Cas’. Short, but deep kisses were pressed up his neck, until a hand gripped his chin firmly, tugging his head down.
Tilting to look at Castiel, the angel pressed his lips against Sam’s, rough and hot and demanding, tongue swiping at the seam of his lips before pushing in, massaging his own tongue, sucking and biting on his lip. Sam whimpered softly, the hand in Cas’ hair clutching tighter, his other arm slipping around his neck as he returned the kiss fervently.
The kiss became more demanding, guttural moans wrenched from him, before Cas gave a growl, tearing both his button up and undershirt with one hand, and if Sam was hard before, now he could cut steel, feeling the angel’s burning hands run over his skin, leaving behind tingles where they went.
Whimpering, he pushed into the touch, soft pleas escaping his lips, asking for what he wasn’t quite sure, but Castiel was.
A snap of his fingers and he was suddenly staring at the ceiling, his bare ass against the sheets on the bed, and Castiel’s naked body was over his, mouth working at his neck again. A soft whimper escaped his throat and he drew his knees up to put his legs around Castiel’s waist.
“Is this what you wanted, Sam?”
And a lubed finger was suddenly at his hole, stroking over the furled muscle and he jerked, pleasure spasming through him and a choked sound escaped his throat.
“Y-Yes, but how… your finger… it’s already… uh…”
Sam struggled to push out a coherent sentence, but all his brain could focus on was the teasing finger at his entrance.
Castiel chuckled and nipped at his earlobe. “Angel,” he responded to his unasked question.
The angel captured Sam’s mouth with his, an inquiring tongue working its way into his mouth, and Sam groaned into Cas’ mouth, sucking on his tongue while pushing back on his finger, trying to get it inside him.
“Patience,” Castiel murmured. “We have time.”
That was when Sam’s brain clicked in and finally caught up to exactly what they were doing. “No… Dean…”
Speak of the devil.
“Sammy, I got you one of those frilly coffees you always want…”
Dean’s voice trailed off and Sam’s heart stopped in horror. “D-Dean, I-I-I…”
Castiel glanced up and in a second they were both sitting on the bed, fully clothed, Sam’s cock somehow soft and unnoticeable.
Dean’s mouth opened and closed, his eyes blinking so fast Sam couldn’t even tell whether they were open or closed. Standing up, heart in his mouth, he tried again.
Sam stopped, hands falling to his sides. “Well – yeah.”
“You… you were gonna fuck Cas? Cas? Castiel, angel of the Lord?”
His cheeks burned even more and he stuttered again.
“To be quite clear, I was going to fuck, as you say, Sam,” Castiel said helpfully from behind him.
“Dude, seriously!” Dean cried, setting down a bag and coffee cup on the table, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his brother was gay, was about to fuck, well, get fucked by an angel and that he’d just seen his brother and Castiel naked in bed.
“D-Dean? Are… are you mad?”
Sam’s trembling voice snapped Dean out of his confusion and he looked at his little brother, whose face was twisted in fear and nervousness, his fingers pulling at each other.
“I… I wanted to tell you I was gay, but I was scared, cause…”
Dean interrupted his brother’s anxious ramble by raising his hand. “Sammy, man, I don’t care that you’re gay. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, or that you were scared to tell me, seriously man, I’m your brother. But, it’s cool.”
Dean picked up his keys and turned to stare at both Cas and Sam. “I’m taking the car, and I’m going to go somewhere for five hours. When I come back, please, in the name of your dad, Cas, please be fully clothed and doing something that I could walk in on you doing without being scarred.”
Sam blinked as the door shut and the engine revved. Turning to Cas, he gave a sigh of relief. “He… took that rather well, I guess.”
“He did,” Cas agreed. “Now could we get back to business?”
Once again, Sam found himself staring at the ceiling, his bare ass against the sheets, and wow, Castiel was good with his fingers.
Chapter 14: Sabriel - Christmas Fluff
Sam and Gabriel share Christmas morning together.
The gardens were empty; it was two in the morning after all. There were trees all around, decorated with yellow lights to celebrate the season. Gabriel and Sam sat cuddled on the bench, twin smiles on their faces as they nuzzled each other’s necks.
“Take a sip,” Gabriel murmured, holding his cup of hot chocolate from an all night coffeeshop nearby to Sam’s mouth, tipping it slightly, letting the warm, rich drink flow into his boyfriend’s mouth.
Sam let the liquid linger in his mouth for a couple of seconds before swallowing it, smiling and leaning forward to peck Gabriel on the cheek.
“Mine?” he offered, raising the cup to the angel’s lips. Gabriel took a sip, humming in content at the over sweetened coffee and ducked his head to press a warm kiss to Sam’s neck, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Giggling, the younger Winchester leaned his cheek against Gabriel’s soft hair, sighing as they cuddled on the bench.
The couple lingered in the embrace for a moment before Gabriel held his cup to Sam’s lips again, a mischievous grin making its way on his face as he tipped the cup just a bit too much so the whipped cream touched his nose.
“Gabe!” Sam squealed, wrinkling his nose and tugging away. Chuckling, the archangel leaned forward, sneaking his tongue past his lips to lick the whipped cream off of Sam’s nose. Sam gave a good-natured hmph and ducked his head to lick off the pointy tip of the whipped cream.
“That’s my favourite part,” Gabriel pouted. Sam snickered before leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, letting his tongue swipe over the chocolate flavoured lips.
Abruptly, Sam pulled away, Gabriel giving a soft sound of protest, and looked up at the sky as raindrops began falling. “We gotta go,” he said, rather sadly, as their very early morning was spoilt, and began to stand up.
With a whine, Gabriel tugged him back down, leaning in to kiss him again. “Gabe,” he protested against the angel’s lips. “We’ll be soaked, we’ve gotta go.”
Gabriel began nuzzling his neck and there was the sound of feathers ruffling. Eyebrows furrowed, Sam watched rain falling in front of him, but he and his boyfriend remaining dry. A smile grew quickly, however, when he noticed the shadow of wings on the ground, and he leaned into his boyfriend's warm embrace.
Chapter 15: Archangel Brothers With Fledgling Gabriel ft. Wing Care
Baby Gabriel is upset, Lucifer complains, and Michael laughs. In the end, they all take care of each other.
“Oh Gabe, do stop crying, you’ll make a thunderstorm! Oh great, now your nose is all runny. No, no, don’t blow it on my robe, don’t you dare, no, don’t, oh, Gabe!”
Michael fell to the floor laughing as he watched Lucifer struggle to wipe off snot from his robe with one hand while balancing Gabriel in the other.
“I don’t let him fly over Las Vegas with wings the size of a fingernail and I’m the bad guy,” he grumbled, setting the fledgling down on the floor and getting the golden snot off in one swipe.
Grabbing hold of Gabriel he shook him gently. “You’d think for an archangel you’d at least know that!” he cried, a frown on his face.
The young fledgling crossed his arms and jutted out his lower lip, staring crossly at his older brother.
“I give up,” Lucifer sighed, setting Gabriel back on the floor. The tiny angel crawled over to Michael and began tugging on his robe, giving soft coos and coaxing whimpers.
“Oh no you don’t! Don’t even think I’m going to let you do it!”
A wail pierced the air and it was Lucifer’s turn to laugh as more snot came from Gabriel’s nose and Michael tried to clean it off.
“Oh please, you were worse. Your nose was practically a tap and snot poured out of it whenever you were upset,” Michael snapped, cradling Gabriel and trying to comfort him.
“Was not!” Lucifer argued. “It got slightly runny sometimes, is all.”
“Slightly runny? You left trails of gold after you all through Heaven! Everyone knew when you were crying!”
“Oh, shut up,” Lucifer mumbled, sliding next to Michael and beginning to stroke Gabriel’s hair.
Eventually the fledgling calmed down and tugged at Lucifer’s robes. He took the small angel and cuddled him tenderly, before setting him on the floor and turning his back to face him, spreading out the small but ruffled wings.
“Look at you now. You made yourself all upset and now your wings are a mess.”
Lucifer began combing his fingers through the golden feathers, starting at the base and setting the feathers back in place, sorting through all three pairs of wings.
Michael moved to sit behind his brother, nimble fingers combing through his feathers quickly before pushing at his oil gland at the base of his wings. An involuntary shudder ran through Lucifer and he whimpered softly as Michael pushed the sensitive spot, coaxing out more oil to massage his wings. The three brothers sat in peace, tending to each other’s wings, accompanied by Michael’s soft singing.
When Father returned, he found his three sons lying on the floor, the youngest archangel nestled between his two brothers, sleeping peacefully.
Chapter 16: Wincest - Married Life
Dean's a mechanic, Sam's his husband, and this is their new everyday.
“Dean, come on, get up, you’ll be late for work!”
Dean mumbled something into the pillow, before rolling around and grabbing Sam’s arm, yanking him face first into the bed. “Dean!”
“Five more minutes,” he murmured, easily maneuvering Sam onto his chest, placing his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and wrapping an arm around his waist tightly, going back to sleep.
Despite himself, a smile made its way onto Sam’s face and he cuddled closer, placing a kiss on Dean’s neck. “Fine, but only five!”
When Sam woke Dean up again, his brother hummed, turning to give Sam a kiss, and his brother eagerly gave into it, enjoying the cold morning being spent nestled in the blankets and Dean’s warm embrace.
“Good morning,” Sam greeted him, smiling at Dean’s adorably mussed up hair.
“Morning,” Dean yawned, twisting his head to look at the time.
“Gotta hurry, you don’t wanna be late,” Sam told him, pressing one more kiss to his lips before sitting up.
“Dammit Sam, why didn’t you wake me earlier?”
Sam whomped his brother in the face with a pillow then went downstairs.
He rummaged through the fridge, pulling out ingredients to make Dean’s lunch. Popping some bread in the toaster, no matter how much he told Dean it didn’t matter since his lunch was usually eaten cold, but his brother insisted, he began cutting some tomatoes and roughly chopping some lettuce.
Putting together a sandwich of cold turkey, cold bacon, lettuce, tomato, a slice of cheese with mayo and lettuce, he slipped it inside a baggie and set it on the counter. Then he pulled out an apple pie he made a few days ago, taking out the last slice and placing it in a bowl.
Taking Dean’s lunchbox from the cupboard, he put the baggie and the bowl inside, wrapping a fork in some tissue and grabbing a can of Corona, he popped it in and shut the box, setting it on the edge of the counter, next to his toolbox.
He fired up the grill pan, putting three sausages on it to cook. Grabbing a pan, he poured in some oil and left it to get hot, while cracking some eggs into a bowl and beginning to whisk. Turning around, he poured the eggs into the pan and flipped the sausages.
Quickly scrambling them, he got out a plate and placed the eggs inside before setting the cooked sausages on the side and setting it on the counter, grabbing a knife and fork.
“There’s my good little housewife.”
Sam rolled his eyes good-naturedly, glancing at the time. “Hurry up; you have ten minutes at most.”
His brother wolfed down his breakfast, feeding Sam a bite of his eggs and setting his plate in the sink. Grabbing his lunch and the toolbox, he made his way outside, leaning into the backseat of the Impala to set them down before straightening up and turning to Sam.
“Have a good day at the garage,” he said, fussing with the collar of his overalls. “Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer. Wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck, he kissed him, gasping into his brother’s mouth when he felt his hands squeeze his ass.
“You know the neighbours are watching,” he murmured against his brother’s lips, feeling Ms. Florence’s eyes on them and hearing the ‘aww’s’ coming from Mrs. Harries’ garden while she pretended to be trimming her hedge.
“Let them, they see it every morning,” Dean replied, sucking on his bottom lip before pulling away. “Need me to bring anything on my way back?”
“Milk’s running out.”
“I’m buying the normal kind.”
“Bye honey, see you when I get back,” Dean said, kissing him once more before pulling away and getting in the car, starting the engine. Sighing fondly, he waved Dean off, going back inside to wash the dishes and tidy the house.
He remembered when their beautiful house was a cheap motel room that smelled of smoke; urine too, if they were really unlucky. They’d finally given up hunting, and Dean used the last of his ‘bad days’ getting as much money as he could out of poker, pool, and credit card scams, paying for the house. They’d managed to get married, albeit with a lot of lies and way too much money paid under the table.
At least Sam didn’t have to change his last name.
He got a job at the local mechanic’s, working his way up the ladder with his talent so that he was now head of the garage, refusing the managerial position when he was offered since all that involved was sitting behind a desk and ‘wearing stupid button up shirts and getting a receding hairline’.
Sam decided against going back to study law, after all, he was married and he quite enjoyed the domestic life. While Dean was at work he managed the house, paid the bills, worked out at the gym sometimes, cooked, cleaned, listened to the old ladies quarrel about their husbands and ‘if only I had a nice young man like you, Sam, to help me out, with those lovely muscles and tight little backside’ and many other things he would much rather not recall.
When it was around six, he began cutting some potatoes and leaving them to boil, taking them out when they were done and popping in some pork chops in the oven to bake. As he began mashing the potatoes, the front door banged open.
“Babe, I’m home!”
“In here!” he called, glancing up when Dean came in the kitchen, overalls covered with car grease, and he set a plastic bag on the counter before moving towards his husband.
“Hey, honey,” he greeted, kissing him gently.
“Mmm, hey. How was work?”
“Some idiot busted a line and soaked me in oil,” he responded, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Smells good.”
“Thanks, hurry up and shower, dinner’s almost ready.”
Dean hummed, squeezing his hips and kissing his neck before going upstairs. Sam sprinkled some grated cheese on the top of the mashed potatoes and pulled out the tray of pork chops, setting the potatoes in the oven.
Drizzling the pork chops with some barbeque sauce, he set out two pieces of meat on separate plates, grabbing a salad from earlier and placing it on the side. Taking the plastic bag from the counter, he smiled when he saw the carton of skimmed milk, popping it in the fridge and taking out the mashed potatoes.
When Dean came downstairs, he found Sam putting on Top Gun, two plates of food set out with beers next to them.
“Come on, I’m hungry,” his brother whined, settling himself on the couch.
Dean grinned, lifting his husband’s legs and setting them on his lap, lifting the two plates of food off the table and handing one to Sam. Before he began to eat, he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to Sam’s lips.
“I love you,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Sam put his hands on either side of Dean’s face, kissing him back.
“And I love you.”
Chapter 17: Brothers - Baby Sam
Sam is turned into a baby, and Dean takes care of him.
“So what, there’s nothing you could do? He’s a baby, Bobby! A snot nosed, crying, squirming, hungry baby!”
“Then you better look after him until I find something, boy. Give me until tomorrow.”
With a huff the older man hung up and Dean glared at the phone in his hands. “Dammit!” Suddenly, he felt a tugging on his jeans and he looked down to see baby Sammy at his feet, smiling up at him. He found he couldn’t be as upset as he was a few seconds ago, not with Sam looking at him with twinkling eyes, and he bent down to scoop the toddler into his arms.
“Well Sammy, you’re stuck in diapers until Uncle Bobby can find a way to change you back. Whaddya say to some dinner, huh buddy?”
Giggling, Sam rubbed his face into his neck, a tiny fist clutching his shoulder.
“I guess that’s a yes.” Dean set Sam on the bed and bit his lip, wondering what to put Sam in to go to the diner. “I know it’s a curse and all, but that damn witch could have at least given you some pants,” he grumbled, poking around in his duffel.
Pulling out a blanket that was the softest he had, he bundled the squirming baby into it and surveyed his work. “Maybe we should get you some clothes first…”
A cry pierced the air and Dean quickly lifted the pouting toddler, rubbing his back. “Okay, okay, dinner first.” Balancing Sam on his hip, he grabbed his keys and strode out of the room. Hoping no one would notice there was a baby in the front seat, he buckled Sam in as best as he could and drove to the diner.
Lifting him out, he made his way inside and took a seat, setting Sam on his lap so he could reach the table. A waitress came over and she raised her eyebrows at the blanket that had been wrapped to allow Sam use of his arms and legs, but looked like a big heap.
He grinned at her. “It’s his favourite blanket, wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He placed their orders and busted open the crayons from the plastic, handing them to Sam as he began to colour the crossword on the activity page. He was pulled out of reading the newspaper by Sam’s poking.
“Look Dee! Is you and me,” he cooed, smiling at Dean. He smiled back, looking at the stick figures done in red and blue, with helpful arrows pointing to who was who.
“Looks great, buddy,” he praised, taking the paper and folding it, putting it in his pocket. At that point, the waitress arrived with their orders and Dean resettled Sam on his lap, grabbing the plastic fork and holding it in front of Sam’s face.
“You gonna be a big boy and use a fork? Or do I have to feed you?” Sam made grabby hands at the fork and Dean let him have it, reaching over to dig into his burger. He wolfed down his food and glanced down at Sam to see how he was doing.
The toddler had abandoned the fork and stuck his hands straight into the spaghetti, smushing meatballs and covering his hands in sauce.
“Good job, Sammy,” he grumbled, turning him so he could access his face and cleaning the sauce from his chubby cheeks. Grabbing the fork, he fed Sam the spaghetti, attempting to collect bits of meat after Sam minced it.
Sam shook his head at about halfway through and he signaled the waitress to box the leftovers, hefting him back on his hip and taking the Styrofoam container, heading to the clothes store.
“Alright buddy, we’re going cheap, alright? Cause you’re not staying like this forever and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna end up paying for overpriced baby clothes that you’re never gonna need in two days.”
Dean ended up with a basket of superhero onesies, twice the price of the plain white clothes he’d picked up, which Sam had wrinkled his nose at and promptly burst into tears when he put in the basket.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re high maintenance?”
Sam grinned and pressed a wet kiss to Dean’s cheek.
After stopping at the grocery and picking up the cheapest bottle and milk he could find, along with some diapers (he was pretty sure that Sam was old enough to not wet himself, but a diaper was easier to manage than a soaked mattress), powder, cream and cereal, they went back to the motel and Dean took Sam out of the blanket, thanking God Sam hadn’t wet himself (or worse) and stared, wondering how on earth he was gonna bathe him.
“Stay there, and don’t move, you hear me?” He was almost out the door when he felt a tugging on his jeans. In the end, he tied the toddler to the bed with his belt. Hurrying two doors down where the old lady with a cat that looked like she set it on fire lived, he bullshitted his way to borrowing a laundry basin and stuck it in the shower, filling it with water.
“Sammy, I swear to God I will personally kick your ass if you pee in this.”
The toddler was easily maneuvered during his bath; he was probably getting tired as the night came on. He left Sam to splash in the water a bit to put some milk to warm before taking him out of the makeshift bath.
Just as he was sticking the tab down on Sam’s diaper, a cloud of powder exploded in his face, followed by baby Sammy’s giggles.
“Yeah, you think that’s funny, huh?” he gripped, taking the bottle of powder and setting it far from Sam, and dressing him in the Batman onesie. Leaving Sam on the bed, he filled a bottle with the warmed milk, setting it on the table and lifting Sam up onto his lap as he took a seat on the chair.
Sam clambered around on his lap before finally settling in Dean’s arms and he pushed the plastic nipple to Sam’s lips. His baby brother immediately began drinking and Dean relaxed, having been worried he might refuse.
Cradling him, he watched as Sam’s cheeks became slightly pinked as he drank and he could help but smile, baby Sammy certainly was adorable. Chubby cheeks and chocolate curls and big brown eyes that looked up at Dean like he was the best thing in the whole world.
Sam pushed at the bottle gently and Dean took it away, setting it on the table. He yawned, turning his head and nuzzling into Dean’s chest, closing his eyes, and his brother smiled even wider, wrapping his arms around him tenderly and humming softly.
As gently as he could, he laid the toddler in his bed, covering him with his jacket instead of the coarse motel sheets. Sammy’s eyes blinked sleepily and tiny dimples appeared when he saw Dean.
“Love you, Dee.”
He felt his heart swell ten sizes and he brushed Sam’s hair away, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “Love you too, Sammy.”
Sam turned and cuddled into the blankets and Dean shucked his clothes until all he wore was his boxers and his undershirt. Easing his way under the covers, he turned on his side, placing a hand on Sam’s back before falling asleep.
“Aww, ain’t that sweet?”
Blearily, Dean opened his eyes to find Sam’s entire tiny body curled up on his chest, jacket and all, sleeping soundly. Squinting, he looked at Bobby, who stood at the foot of the bed. “Got the spell,” he said gruffly, lifting a torn, yellowed sheet of paper. “Just an incantation.”
“Couldn’t you have just called me?”
The older man raised a bushy eyebrow. “You speak Russian?”
Grumbling, Dean turned to Sam, nudging him, reluctant to wake him when he looked so peaceful. “C’mon Sammy, gotta get up. Uncle Bobby’s here.”
Sam woke easily, blinking at Dean. “Unca Bobby?”
“Yeah, me kid.”
Holding Sam to his chest, he sat up awkwardly, setting him down on the bed. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled over to Bobby while the man began reading spell. In a minute, there was a bright flash, then a grown up Sam appeared on the bed, butt naked.
“Dean? Bobby?” Sam asked, blinking.
“Yep, welcome back to the world, Sasquatch.” Dean clapped him on the shoulder and grabbed his jacket, throwing it in Sam’s lap to cover him.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You were a baby,” Bobby replied, folding the tattered paper.
“The cutest, chubbiest, happiest little baby,” Dean crooned, pinching his cheek while Sam batted him away.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, turning pink. He cackled before fishing out the activity page from dinner the night before and tossing it to Sam.
“Saved your masterpiece, Picasso.” Sam blushed when he saw the page.