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School Slut

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Stanford was... okay.

Kind of a dump, Dean decided as he walked through campus, hands in his jacket pockets. Yeah, pretty dumpy. Sure, it had a couple nice-looking buildings, but most of them... okay, actually most of them were pretty nice-looking. And the campus was pretty clean. And full of pretty people. All chatting with their pretty friends and going to classes to learn things.

Boring things, probably.

Dean didn’t understand why Sam wanted to be here. But hey, he wasn’t about to let this totally dumpy campus discourage him from visiting his little brother. Sam had been here for almost a year now, he must miss his big bro.

Dean was hoping to surprise Sam. Unfortunately, that meant he had no idea where to find him.

A pretty girl was sitting on a bench next to a nice-looking building in front of a nice-looking stretch of grass, reading a textbook that was probably full of boring class stuff. Dean smirked. Not a bad place to start. He walked over to the girl and smiled when she glanced up at him.

“Hey,” she offered cheerfully, brushing blond hair out of her eyes.

Dean gave her his most winning smile. “Hey. You wouldn’t happen to know a Sam Winchester, would you?”

For a moment the girl just blinked at him like he was asking what color the sky was. Then she snorted. “Uh... yeah I know Sam Winchester.”

“Great! Do you know where I can find him?”

The girl kept giggling, clearly trying to hide it and doing a very poor job. “Uh, no, I don’t know him that well.”

Dean’s eyebrows pursed as the girl continued to chuckle. “Uh... okay. Thanks. You’ve been... very helpful.”

“Sure, sure.” The girl turned back to her reading as Dean started to turn away. “...Just read the bathroom stalls if you wanna find him.”

Dean turned back around. “What?”

“Nothing.” The girl brushed her hair out of her eyes, still chuckling. “I’m sure you’ll find him. Just ask around.”

Dean gave the girl one more perplexed look before walking away.

The next person Dean asked was a guy that he caught at a drinking fountain.

“Hey, do you know Sam Winchester?”

“Sam?” The guy straightened up and wiped a hand across his mouth. “You mean Slutty Sam?”

Dean veered away from the guy like he’d just confessed to having the plague. The words bounced around Dean’s mind like some alien language.

S l u t t y S a m.

It didn’t compute. The term was self-contradictory. Dorky, prudish Sam and sex just didn’t go together. Dean cleared his throat, trying to collect himself. “Uh... no, probably a different Sam. Maybe... Nerdy Sam or Gigantic Sam.”

The guy held his hand up a couple inches above his head. “About this tall?”


“Kinda shaggy hair?”

Dean swallowed. There was a growing apprehension in the pit of his stomach. “...Yeah.”

“Really smart, right?”

Dean shook his head, his face a little pale. “Nope, he’s dumb as nails, must be a different Sam. Definitely a different Sam.”

“Oh.” The guy shrugged. “Well, I only know Slutty Sam, so good luck finding your other Sam.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

As soon as the guy walked away, Dean bent over the drinking fountain and took a long, long drink of ice cold water.

“Oh, you mean Slutty Sam?”

Dean licked his dry lips and did his best not to look like he was slowly losing his mind. “...Yeah. Sure. That one.”

The girl he was speaking to nudged her friend. “Hey, haven’t you got physics with him?”

The other girl smirked. “Yeah, he sits in front of me. Sometimes I count his hickeys when—”

“Whoa, okay.” Dean rubbed a hand over his forehead. “So you’re telling me that this Sam—Sam Winchester—gets laid a lot?”

Dean couldn’t reconcile the image of his dorky, gangly little brother getting it on with even one chick, let alone enough to earn him the title Slutty Sam.

Wow, those words felt weird even in his head.

One of the girls just burst into laughter at Dean’s question. The other did her best to answer Dean without joining her friend in incoherence.

“I swear, I don’t know how he manages to keep his GPA so high! You’d think he wouldn’t even have time to study with all the cock he—”

“Right, thanks, I’ll just be—” Dean’s throat constricted. “Wait, cock?”

“Yeah, you didn’t know? It’s a wonder that kid can still sit down after—”

“Okay, thank you, very vivid!” Dean interrupted, holding up his hands. The images his mind was conjuring up were more than he could handle right now.

The girl gave him a knowing smile. “Hey, if you want a turn with him, you can find his number on most of the bathroom stalls. You look like you’d be his type, I’m sure he’d—”

“I’m his brother,” Dean blurted, trying not to breathe too heavily.

The girl’s smile vanished and she blinked. “...Oh. Oh. Um. Very sorry for being so. Um.” She tugged on her friend’s arm and took a step back. “...Sorry.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his forehead. Fuck, he was sweating. He hoped his face wasn’t red. “It’s fine, it’s... I’m sure I’ll find him eventually.”

The girl who had been laughing was only laughing harder now, but the other one seemed uncomfortable. “He’s... a very good student?” she offered.

“Yeah, I know. I mean... thanks for trying.”

It was a really, really bad idea. But Dean had drunk a lot of water at that fountain earlier and it seemed dumb to flee campus just to take a piss.

He walked into one of the campus bathrooms with a feeling of deep apprehension. He had to steel himself before glancing into the first stall.

Prof brady is a bitch

...That’s all that was written on the walls. Dean let out a tense sigh. He hesitated there for almost a full minute, drumming his fingers against the pale blue, green-flecked plastic divider. Then he flung open the next stall with unnecessary violence.

Nothing. Clean walls.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. This was a terrible idea. He didn’t want to see his little brother’s name written on a bathroom stall like a... a...

Like a slut.

He told himself that, but then he flung open the next stall door.

but are we even nematodes

...Fucking college kids. Dean snorted and opened the next stall without thinking. And froze when he saw a number. And writing. Dean clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, his heart thumping. Slowly, inevitably, he walked into the stall as if drawn by some invisible force. The writing was thin pencil, scraped over the rough plastic—

For a nice tight ass, call—

Dean tore his eyes away, breathing hard. Something in the pit of his stomach told him that was Sam’s number. His eyes darted guiltily back up to the writing.

...Fuck. Him. That looked an awful lot like Sam’s number.

Nice tight ass.

Dean’s heart was pounding. To his absolute horror, his cock gave a little twitch.

But it had absolutely nothing to do with his little brother. Hell, this was just a number scribbled on a wall below the words nice tight ass. Dean had felt a nice tight ass squeezing around his dick before, so it was only rational that the words would conjure up some memories. Memories a pretty girl bent over with his hand tangled in her long hair, his other hand grabbing the full curve of her hip as his cock pumped in her and she moaned for more—

Dean shook his head, blinking until the plastic dividers and cold tiles of the bathroom stall swum back into focus.

He could have used any other stall. But somehow Dean found himself reaching back and pulling the stall door shut so he could use this one.

He almost didn’t see the blue pen writing on the inside of the door, but he froze when he registered the words.

Slutty Sam choked on my dick here

Dean forgot how to breathe, staring at those scribbled words like his life depended on it. When he finally tore his eyes away, he ended up looking at the grimy tile floor.

His little brother had kneeled on that grimy tile floor and sucked some guy’s cock.

Dean stormed out of the stall and slammed the door behind himself so hard it shook the whole divider. He stomped past the sinks and wrenched the door open, startling a student who was reaching for it.

“Whoops, sorry—”

“Fuck off, you probably fucked my brother too,” Dean snarled, shoving past the wide-eyed man and storming away.

Dean thought about just calling Sam and to let him know that he was on campus. But he’d been so determined to surprise Sam with a visit. So, against Dean’s better judgement, he continued to ask around.

“I don’t want to know if you slept with him, I just want to know where his dorm is.”

The redhaired girl that Dean was speaking to gave him a knowing wink. “Ah, I getcha. His dorm, huh?”

“No, I just—” Dean ground his hands over his eyes. “Jesus christ, just tell me where he lives.”

“Sorry, I don’t know. But you could ask the basketball team.”

“Why would—” Dean’s stomach dropped. “...Why would they know.”

“Dunno. I hear he fucked all of them.”

Dean swallowed and managed to squeak out, “Women’s or men’s team?”

The girl opened her mouth to answer, then paused thoughtfully. “You know... I don’t know that he hasn’t slept with the women’s team...”

“...Right. Men’s team, then,” Dean choked. His voice didn’t sound like his own. “Um. Thanks. I’ll just... ask them.”

“Sure. Good luck.”

Dean started turning to leave, but stopped himself and blurted, “Is the entire basketball team gay?”

The girl frowned. “Nah, I don’t think so. I mean, Steve definitely is, but I know Randy and Tom have had girlfriends so—”

“Right, forget I asked. I’ll... I’ll find him somehow.”

Dean had no intention of talking to one of the basketball players who had fucked his little brother. But when he realized he was passing the gym and heard the thump of basketballs on a polished wooden floor... well, he didn’t have any other leads.

Dean managed to catch one of the players as he was taking a water break. The guy was tall, easily taller than Dean, and absolutely corded in muscle. His jersey stuck to his chest with sweat.

Gross. Dean had no clue why Sam or anyone at all ever would be into that.

“So. Sam Winchester.”

The basketball player frowned down at Dean. “Hey, it’s not gay if you only do it once.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily. “Great, so you did sleep with him.”

“Naaah, I’d hardly call it ‘sleeping with’ him. I just, you know, used what he was offering.”

Dean twitched. “Used?”

“All the guys were doing it. If you’d seen him you would have understood.”

Dean cracked his knuckles slowly. “He’d better have been into this.”

The guy held his hands up with a grin. “Oh, he was way into it. God, I’d heard the kid was a slut, but I’ve never seen so much enthusiasm for—”

“Yeah, okay, just how many of you are actually gay?” Dean snapped in exasperation. He could almost handle his little brother getting a lot of tail, but his little brother having magical heterosexuality-defying powers was a step too far.

“Steve and Brad are gay. Not with each other... I don’t think.”

“But you all slept with Sam?”

The basketball player held a finger up. “Fucked him, not slept with him! And no, a bunch of guys left. It was more like... half the team fucked him.” A rolling ball bumped the player’s foot and he picked it up and tossed it back onto the court before continuing. “...Sam came in after a game and started getting with Brad. All kissing and grabbing at each other.” He held up a finger again. “That was gay.”

“Unlike you,” Dean confirmed dryly.

“Exactly. I was all gonna tell them to get a room if they were gonna be like that, but Brad just bent him over one of the benches and started fingering him. Right there in the locker room! And then Steve walks up and grabs Sam’s hair and—wow, you shoulda seen him, he had this big grin on his face like he couldn’t wait. Opened his mouth right up when Steve took his cock out.”

Dean swallowed. “Y-you don’t say.”

“Yeah, and when Steve’s done, Slutty Sam just licks his lips and looks around the room while Brad’s dick is still in his ass and says, ‘Anyone else wanna go?’ Fucking cock-hungry.” The basketball player shrugged. “I mean, I’m as straight as the next guy—so long as the next guy isn’t Brad or Steve—but come on, when someone begs to suck your cock, what’re you gonna do?”

Dean’s throat was dry. “...So you let him blow you?”

“Uh... not exactly.” The basketball player gave Dean a sheepish grin. “When Brad was done, he pulled out and gave Sam’s ass a smack and walked away, didn’t pull up Sam’s pants or anything. I thought Sam was gonna be pissed, you know? But he just spread his legs and pushed his ass in the air, fuck, you could fucking tell he was waiting for someone else to take a turn. Probably would have begged for it if he hadn’t been gagging on Randy’s cock.” He chuckled. “I never had a girlfriend who let me, you know? And, wow, suddenly there was this tight, slick little hole just there and waiting for me to use it. Any dude would have stuffed their dick in that.”

Dean’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t imagine it, the scene just didn’t make sense in his mind. His sweet, shy, dorky little Sammy getting roughly fucked by a room full of jocks, he just couldn’t...

No, actually, he could imagine it. Really, really vividly.

“Do you know where his dorm is?” Dean stammered out.

The basketball player stepped back from Dean suspiciously. “...You gay?”

“No, I—” Dean gestured angrily at the team still playing on the court. “You don’t mind your teammates being gay!”

“Yeah, but I know they’re gay. You’re like... stealth gay.”

“I’m not gay! Just tell me where he lives, I’m—I’m a friend from his hometown.”

The basketball player shrugged. “Dunno. Ask Brad. They way they were going at it, looked like they’d done it before.”

“Great. Excellent. Thanks.” Dean blew out a tense breath and stalked away. “I’ll just... go talk to another person who’s fucked my brother.”

Brad had shaggy blond hair and surfer-tan skin and basically fit every stereotype associated with the name “Brad.” Aside from the heterosexuality.

“So, I hear you have a thing with Sam Winchester,” Dean began wearily.

Brad laughed and tossed his basketball back into the fray, where someone else caught it and dribbled it across the court. “Oh, I’ve had a lot of things with Slutty Sam Winchester. If you know what I mean.”

Dean’s jaw twitched, but he brushed it aside and tried to bite out words. “Do you know where I can find his dorm?”

“Just look on the bathroom stalls for his number.”

“Yes,” Dean ground out, “but I’m trying to find his dorm.”

“Oh, wanna surprise him?”

“Yeah.” Dean paused. “...Wait, no, no, that sounds really rapey in context.”

“Hey.” Brad was pulling out his smartphone. “You wanna see a video?”

The color drained out of Dean’s face. “...What... video.”

“He let me tape it once when I was fucking him.” Brad gave Dean a knowing smile. “I can tell you wanna see it.”

The color rushed back into Dean’s face so fast it almost hurt. “I—I absolutely do not want to see—”

Brad stepped next to Dean and showed him the smartphone with a grin. “Here.”

Dean’s words died in his throat. The small smartphone screen showed a scene that was poorly lit and grainy, but it was still very clearly sex. Brad must have been holding the phone and pointing it down his body, recording the slow slide of his cock in and out of—

—in and out of the fucking roundest ass Dean had ever seen.

Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away. It couldn’t be Sam. Because if it was Sam, then Dean was in a whole world of trouble for the fact that his cock was swelling in his jeans. But there was no face in the video, no identifying marks, not even a clear view of the bottom’s genitals. All Dean could see was that round, soft ass and a few inches of toned lower back, and that thick cock sliding in inch by inch until it was completely sheathed, pulling back out and pumping in. Dean could see Brad’s hand grab one cheek and pull it aside, showing off the pink stretch of that hole, squeezing so tight—

Dean made a noise like he’d been kicked between the legs when the completely nameless person in the video pressed their hips back eagerly, that tight ass swallowing up inch after inch of cock—

And then the person in the video groaned and Dean’s heart jumped into his throat because that was Sam’s voice.

Which meant that was Sam’s ass getting stretched open on a basketball player’s cock.

Brad started thrusting faster, a soft slap slap slap of flesh on flesh, and the groans kicked up into thin, pitiful whines. Dean’s cock throbbed when the bottom—fuck, Sam—reached back and grabbed his own cheeks, spreading them, inviting Brad in and giving Dean a perfect view of how stuffed he was. It suddenly clicked in Dean’s mind that there was no condom involved here, that his little baby Sammy was letting some jock ride him bare. Which means he might have let all those guys in the locker room fuck him without protection too, letting one cock after another shoot its load inside him—

“Like what you see?”

Dean almost jumped out of his skin and lurched away from Brad. “Mnotgay,” he stammered out quickly in response to the smug grin on the athlete’s face.

“Really? Cause you seem pretty into this.” Brad cocked an eyebrow and looked Dean over in a way that made his heart flip. “You’re hot, you know. I’d be glad to sneak back to the locker rooms with you and—”

“Touch me and I will take you to the ground in a completely heterosexual way,” Dean said flatly.

Brad backed up. “Fine, geez, just offering.”

“Can you please...” Dean blew out a long breath. “...Just tell me where his dorm is. And not talk about his ass any more.”

Pretty slutty bubble butt bouncing on a thick cock—

“Yeah, sure, I’ll walk you there—”

Just give me the damn room number.

“...Fine. Spoilsport.”

Dean had to take a few deep breaths as he stood in front of Sam’s dorm room door. He could hear bustling around inside, so he knew Sam was in. And he knew from the faded yellow construction-paper-and-crayola-marker name tag on the door that this room belonged to only Sam.

Dean remembered his brother as a gangly, messy-haired, nerdy teenage boy. And he prayed to god that was all he would find when the door opened.

Dean exhaled slowly, lifted his hand, and knocked on the door three times.

There was more shuffling inside and then the door opened and Dean’s shaggy-haired, stupidly tall little brother was blinking at him in surprise.

Dean managed a smile. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Dean!” Sam dragged him into a hug that Dean eagerly returned. “What—what are you doing here?”

“Missed my little brother,” Dean explained, giving Sam a firm pat on the back and pulling back to look at him. Sam was grinning broadly, sweet and innocent as ever. Dean grinned back. There was no fuckin’ way. Everyone was lying, the number on the wall was wrong, the video was someone else. He’d been an idiot to think that his Sam would be like that.

Sam opened the door all the way and said, “Hey, come on in.”

Dean followed Sam in, still looking him over. Sam was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Hardly the mesh top and miniskirt that Dean had been half-expecting. It looked like Sam had kept on working out after leaving for college, because he was more toned than Dean remembered. His room seemed neat, distressingly so for a college freshman, aside from the papers and open textbooks scattered across his desk.

“You should have told me you were coming!” Sam insisted as he closed the door. “I would have done some cramming so I wouldn’t be busy when you arrived.”

Dean twitched at the word cramming but managed to keep a straight face. “Yeah, well, you always worked too hard, little brother. You’re taking a day off, doctor’s orders.”

Sam snorted and walked over to his desk, bookmarking the textbooks with sheets of notes and closing them. “...Fine, but only because I’m ahead anyway.”

Dean looked around. “You got anything to drink here?”

Sam peered over his shoulder disapprovingly. “Dean, I’m nineteen.”

“So? I’ve seen you drink before.”

“I mean—sometimes I do—But I can’t keep it in my dorm or I’ll get in trouble!”

Dean just shook his head and chuckled. Good to see Sam was still a goody two-shoes. He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder as Sam put his notes away. “Come on, we’re buying booze. On me.”

“On your fake credit cards, you mean,” Sam said dryly.

“There’s the bitch I missed.”


The sky was starting to darken as they walked across campus to the nearest booze shop. For a while, Dean was floating. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his little brother, or how good it was just to be around him again. Like a piece of him that had been missing was now neatly back where it should be.

But the lovely floating sensation began to fade when people began saying hi to Sam.

The first one was a girl with big dark eyes that they almost bumped into as they walked through a door.

“Oh—hi, Madison,” Sam said.

Madison hugged her books to her chest and gave Sam a smile that was anything but chaste. “Hi, Sam.”

She didn’t say anything else, but Dean was positive that she checked out Sam’s ass as they walked away.

Madison wasn’t the only one to greet Sam. Everywhere they went, Dean could see heads turning to follow Sam’s stride. He could see students nudging each other and whispering, grinning. And loads of people would call out to Sam as he walked by.

“Hey, Sam!”

“What’s up, Sam?”

“Looking good, Sam!”

Sam responded to all of them with the same innocent cheerfulness, like everyone was just being an especially friendly neighbor that day. It was slowly driving Dean mad. There was a complete disconnect between the predatory looks people gave his little brother and the happy smiles and waves that Sam gave them in return. It was as if everyone knew Sam was a slut except for Sam. It got to the point where Dean honestly couldn’t tell if Sam really was sleeping with half the school, or if half the school was under some sort of collective delusion that they had slept with Sam.

When a tall, scruffy-faced frat boy in a sports jacket openly leered at Sam as they passed, Dean actually growled and grabbed Sam’s arm, fingers digging into his brother’s bicep.

Sam gave him a startled look. “What?”

The frat boy was still eating Sam up with his eyes. Dean seethed silently at the man and dragged Sam away. “Nothing. Let’s just keep going.”

By the time they got to the liquor store, Dean was tense and twitchy, his hand clenched possessively around Sam’s arm. Sam gave him concerned looks, but otherwise didn’t comment. They stepped into the liquor store, making the bell on the door chime. Dean slowly let go of Sam’s arm as the door closed behind them. They stepped into the store, and a burly, tattooed man with a shaved head waved at them from behind the counter.

“Well, hey there, kid,” he called to Sam.

Dean’s whole body went tense when Sam grinned sweetly and waved back, replying, “Hey, Mike.”

No. Fucking. Way. That guy had to be in his late thirties at the least. And he was all... nasty looking and covered in scars and tattoos. Sam was nineteen. There was no fucking way—

Mr. Liquor Store leaned over the counter as Sam browsed the booze selection, and proceeded to give Sam one of the most obvious eyefucks Dean had ever seen. Dean clenched his fists until the knuckles cracked. He couldn’t stop the images from flashing through his mind. It was too easy to picture his twinky little brother in this older man’s tattooed arms, those big calloused hands running over Sam’s lean body, pulling his clothes off, grabbing his tight teenage ass and fingering it while Sam whimpered—

“Dean, what do you want?”

Dean jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice. Sam was giving him a questioning look, standing in front of the whiskey section. Dean exhaled. He was gonna need a stiff drink after this.

“U-uh—something hard.”

...Fucking fantastic choice of words.

“Whiskey fine?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Sam pulled a bottle off the shelf and brought it up to the counter, smiling at the tattooed clerk, who gave him a hungry smile in return.

“Well, well, can I get you anything else, little boy?”

Dean ground his teeth.

“Not today, Mike,” Sam replied.

“Still twenty-one years old, I assume?”

Sam pulled out his ID and slid it across the counter. “Of course, sir.”

Mike picked up the ID and looked it over, glancing more at Sam than the card. He held out the shiny bit of plastic and Sam took it, but instead of withdrawing his hand, Mike brushed his knuckles under Sam’s chin like he was petting a dog. Dean had to clench his hands into shaking fists to keep from punching him in the face.

“Ah, just take it. This one’s on me.”

“You sure, Mike?”

“Yeah. If you’re feeling remorseful, you can pay me back later.”

“Sure, of course!”

Sam was beaming happily when he walked back to Dean with the bottle of whiskey. “Ready to go?”

Dean was glaring daggers at the clerk. “...Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

Dean didn’t know how he made it back to Sam’s dorm without killing someone. It was just late enough in the evening that some people were already smashed. Dean knew it was a Friday night, but damn.

When they rounded a building and came across three girls in cheerleader outfits leaning against the brick and chatting, Sam hesitated.

“Uh.” It was hard to tell for sure in the dark, but Dean was pretty sure Sam was blushing. “Let’s just—”

“Hey, heeeeeey Sam.”

One of the girls was waving her fingers at Sam, a beer bottle dangling from the other hand while she leaned against the wall. Dean’s jealousy ebbed for a moment as his eyes ran up her legs.

Sam raised a hand apprehensively and waved back. “Um, hey, Zoe—”

“Who’s your friend, Saaaaaam? Wanna bring him along?”

One of the other girls giggled and the third smiled at Dean. Sam cleared his throat and gave Dean’s jacket a tug, trying to lead him away. “Uh—not tonight, Zoe—”

“Come on, pretty boy, I’ll sit on your face again! I know you love that!”

“Goodnight, Zoe,” Sam replied cheerfully, pulling a rubbernecking Dean away from the girls. When the last miniskirt was out of sight, Dean spun back to face Sam so fast he almost got whiplash.

“You—” He gestured back at the girls. “—All of them—”

Sam wasn’t looking at Dean, his face red. “I’m really sorry about Zoe, she’s a sweetheart but she gets kind of, uh, honest when she drinks—”

“Have you nailed all of those girls, Sam? Answer the question, this is important.”

Sam fidgeted. “...Yeah. Uh. It was a sorority party and... apparently I was the only boy they invited.”

They had reached Sam’s dorm building. Sam swiped them in and opened the door for Dean before continuing.

“...Apparently this was intentional. Which I didn’t find out until after I arrived.”


“Nah, a few girls hung back.” Sam gestured. “I mean, Alice is gay, so she didn’t—”

“Sam, almost an entire sorority is still—how do you even—”

“Oh, it wasn’t all of them at once!” Sam opened the door to his dorm and let Dean inside. “I mean, they kind of... took... turns. Um. On me.”

Dean stepped into Sam’s dorm and set the whiskey bottle down on the desk. He stared at Sam quietly as his brother closed the door. “...Kind of like the basketball team, huh?”

Sam went rigid, still facing the door. Then he sighed. “...You’ve been asking around campus.”

Dean crossed his arms. “Didn’t take very long to hear some interesting stories. Seems like I’m the last to know.”

“You don’t have to know, you’re my brother.”

Dean opened the whiskey and took a sip straight from the bottle while Sam shuffled his feet awkwardly. Then he thunked the bottle back down on the table and beckoned Sam over. “Okay, come over here.”

Sam frowned. “...What for?”

Dean scowled walked over to Sam, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him to the bed. “Sit,” he ordered, pushing Sam down on it.

Sam sat.

Dean crossed his arms, glaring down at his little brother. “Look, Sam, I know I slept around a lot when we were kids and I know you saw a lot of it—”

Sam frowned. “Dean, that’s not why—”

“Shut up, I’m not done.”

Sam closed his mouth sullenly.

“Okay. I know I slept around a lot but I never did it without protection. I thought I taught you better than that.”

Sam glared at Dean for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the carpet. “...So, I guess they... um...”

“Yeah, they told me,” Dean snapped. No need to confess right now to the visual evidence he’d been shown.

Sam sighed. He reached for the desk and picked up the bottle of whiskey, taking a long sip before beginning. “Okay, I know it looks bad, but—”

“Bad? Sam, if even one of your partners had an STD, then not only do you have it, you could have given it to everyone you slept with after that!”

“I know that!” Sam snapped. He took another sip and screwed the lid back on, replying smugly, “That’s why I looked up a spell for STD protection. I’m herpes-proof. Can’t get infected, can’t be a carrier.”

Dean frowned for a moment, then snatched the whiskey away from Sam and took a long sip of his own.

Sam raised a hand. “Got another spell so I don’t knock up any of the girls. Most of them say they’re on the pill, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m not ready to be a daddy.”

Dean took another sip of whiskey. His head was starting to buzz. “You’ve got one though, huh?”

Sam blinked. Dean took another sip of whiskey and Sam snatched the bottle away. “What?”

“A daddy. You’ve got a daddy. Mr. Liquor Store sure seemed to like you, little boy,” Dean sneered.

Sam’s face went red and he took a short sip of whiskey before putting it back on the desk as if trying to distance it from himself. After a moment, he licked his lips and managed, “L-look, he’s actually an all right guy, and he’s—”

“What, good with his hands?” Dean drawled.

The startled, embarrassed look on Sam’s face told Dean that Mr. Liquor Store was good with his hands. Dean snatched the bottle back and took a sip.

“That’s why you get booze even though you’re underage, huh?” he asked heatedly.

“No! I mean—I’ve got a fake ID and it’s really convincing—made it just how Dad taught us—and I think he suspects I’m underage and wants to pretend I’m not when I’m buying and pretend I am when—” Sam choked himself off and snatched the bottle back from Dean, downing more whiskey.

Dean’s hands clenched. “Pretend you’re underage when what?”

Sam stared guiltily into the whiskey bottle. Dean grabbed Sam’s chin and made his little brother look up, tipsy-bright cheeks and whiskey-slick lips.

“When he’s fucking you?”


“He’s probably twice as old as you!”

“He’s a decent guy and he’s never done something I didn’t want!”

Dean realized he was panting slightly, from anger or from the booze or from the images in his head, he wasn’t sure. He was still grabbing Sam’s chin, and Sam was letting him, looking up at him with those big hazel eyes. Sweet little brother. Sweet little brother that everyone and anyone was getting their hands on these days. It chafed on Dean, more than he would have imagined possible, to think of all those people treating his baby brother like a...

The room was spinning a bit. Dean’s grip on Sam’s chin loosened, and he ran his hand down his little brother’s neck.

Sometimes I count his hickeys.

Dean was glad that Sam’s neck was bruise-free right now.

“I don’t like it,” Dean blurted.

Sam blinked at him a few times. He looked dizzy too. “Don’ like what?”

“Everyone else. Touching you. You’re my little brother.”

Sam gave Dean a tipsy grin, cute and lopsided. “C’mon, it’s not like I’m letting other people be my big brother. That’s only you, Dean.”

The room rocked dangerously, but Sam’s words felt solid. Dean swallowed. “...Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sam reached up and wrapped his hand around his brother’s, pressing it against his chest. Over his heart. “Only you, Dean. Only big brother I’ve got.”

Dean could feel the thump of Sam’s heartbeat. It was comforting. He didn’t ever want to move his hand.

“I jus’—I just like sex, okay? I like—people, y’know?” Sam was still talking, and Dean couldn’t look away from his lips. “I like the energy and the—the intimacy and—and I know people call me a slut and they’re probably right, but it’s fine, Dean, I’m okay with me being a slut.”

I’m not. Dean swallowed the words.

Sam chuckled and glanced at his knees, hair falling in his eyes. “S’really good, you know, having someone else own you an’ push you around and use you, I jus’ like it a lot, Dean. That’s why the basketball team and the sorority and Mike and—I like feelin’...used.”

I just used what he was offering.

Dean wasn’t sure how it happened. He must have shoved Sam down on the bed because suddenly he was kneeling over his brother and Sam was panting up at him with wide, startled eyes.

“They don’t own you,” Dean said hotly. “Nobody owns you.” Except me.

Sam gave a little shudder. “D-Dean...”

Dean splayed his hand over Sam’s chest, over his pounding heart. He closed his eyes and just listened to the th-thump th-thump of it, of Sam under him and safe and not being touched by anyone else.

The words weren’t supposed to ever pass his lips, not like this, but Dean was drunk and he couldn’t stop thinking about all the filthy things people had done to his little brother. He ground out two syllables like he was writing them in stone.

“You’re mine.”

Sam’s chest swelled under Dean’s hand. His heart was pounding so fast. Dean leaned his head down until his forehead bumped against his brother’s, whispering words that were only supposed to be thoughts.

“My little brother. My Sammy. No one else gets to have you. Only me.”

Sam’s lips barely moved, the words were scarcely more than a breath against Dean’s lips.

Yes, sir.

Dean shuddered, digging his fingers into Sam’s chest for a second. He leaned closer to Sam’s lips and hissed the word “Mine.” Sam’s back arched, pressing his chest up against Dean’s hand, and he nodded fervently.

Dean panted as he slid his hand down and shoved it under Sam’s shirt, finding his beating heart again. Something itched at him, told him he was on thin ice, but he pushed the thought aside because his brother needed to be reclaimed.

Sam just stared up at him while Dean reached under his shirt. Letting him.

Dean shuddered, bumping his nose against Sam’s and repeating the word mine. He didn’t think he could say that enough times. Sam’s bare chest was hot and smooth against his hand, firm with muscle. Dean slid his hand across Sam’s chest slowly, his movements becoming harder and hungrier the longer Sam didn’t resist. Dean pressed his face into Sam’s neck, panting as he ran his hand over his little brother.

Sometimes I count his hickeys.

No one else deserved to mark up Sam. Dean rubbed his nose over Sam’s neck, panting against the soft skin. Sam smelled like sweat, shampoo, and something that was just little brother. Sam let out a thin whine and tilted his face away, exposing his neck for his big brother. Like he was presenting himself. Just for Dean.

“I... I want to...” Dean didn’t know where the words were coming from or where they were going. The whiskey was buzzing in his veins and he had his Sam back, and that was all that mattered. Everyone needed to know that Sam was his. Dean sealed his lips over the side of Sam’s neck and sucked, making Sam’s back arch.

“D-Dean—” Sam was grabbing at the bedsheets, choking and gasping under his big brother. Dean’s mouth moved up Sam’s neck, leaving sore pick marks that he hoped to god would bruise. His hand was still under Sam’s shirt, running over every inch of his brother that he could reach, reminding himself that Sam was here with him. It wasn’t until Sam started pushing at his hip and mumbling shaky words that Dean realized he was rock hard and pressing his erection against his brother’s leg.

“We sh-shouldn’t, Dean, stop, we shouldn’t... you’re my brother...”

You’re my brother. Dean pulled his hand out of Sam’s shirt and tangled it in his brother’s hair, making Sam look at him.

“Damn straight I’m your brother,” he panted. “And you’re mine.”

Sam sounded breathless. “D-Dean, this is—we need to stop—”

When Dean tightened his hand in Sam’s hair, Sam moaned and the pressure of his hand on Dean’s hip slackened.

“Oh g-god, Dean, Dean—”

Dean tugged on Sam’s hair again and Sam’s struggles died off completely.

“F-fuck, Dean, I sh-shouldn’t—”

Dean tugged again and Sam fell silent with a desperate whine. It was addictive, how easily Sam surrendered to him, like Sam wanted nothing more than to give himself over completely. Without thinking, almost without realizing he was doing it, Dean slid a shaking hand between their bodies and found his own erection, squeezing it. It was like fireworks went off behind his eyes and he groaned.

Sam seemed hypnotized by the sight. “Oh—fuck, Dean—”

Dean held still there, grabbing Sam’s hair with one hand and his own cock with the other, panting at his brother. This was wrong, he knew this was wrong. He and Sam were in fucking dangerous territory right now and it was making his heart race and his vision sway, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this horny, or this in love, and Sam—fuck, Sam looked like he was about to cream his shorts just from having his hair pulled.

Dean knew it was a terrible idea to slide his hand between Sam’s legs, but he did it anyway.

“Dean!” Sam’s gasp of surprise dissolved into a moan when Dean squeezed, and he—oh fuck—he spread his legs wide for Dean’s hand, submissive and inviting. “Oh g-g-god—”

Dean licked his lips and tried not to think about the fact that he was grabbing his brother’s cock, tried not to think about what that meant. He rolled onto the bed next to Sam, watching the little twitches of pleasure on his brother’s face as his hand worked. It was a familiar motion, knead and squeeze through the shorts, the hard ridge of (brother’s) cock through the thin fabric hot against his hand.

“S’big, Sam,” he panted against Sam’s neck.

Sam whimpered and pressed his hips up against Dean’s hand. “Oh god, Dean, please...”

Dean swallowed and chewed his lip before letting go of Sam’s cock and sliding his hand under the waistband of his brother’s shorts. He shuddered when his fingertips found the smooth, firm heat of Sam’s cock, and Sam grabbed at the sheets.

“D-Dean, oh god, we sh-shouldn’t do this...”

“Don’ wanna stop,” Dean panted into Sam’s neck. He curled his fingers slowly around Sam’s cock, feeling the weight of it in his hand. “God... Sammy...”

Sam’s long limbs were sprawled across the bed as his brother slowly jerked him off, grabbing at anything he could reach, panting open-mouthed at the ceiling. Dean watched him, enraptured. It was so satisfying, making Sam come apart like this under his hand. It wasn’t right that everyone but him should be able to do this.

Dean licked his lips and slid his hand lower down, fondling Sam’s balls. He shivered at the smooth skin that greeted his fingertips.

“You shave,” he remarked softly, lips brushing over Sam’s neck.

Sam nodded meekly, nudging his legs even further apart as Dean’s hand slid lower. Sam was shaking. Dean knew he was crossing line after line and just kept charging towards the next, he knew this was wrong and sick and incestuous, but he couldn’t make himself stop. It was Sam. He had to. Dean pressed a finger into the hot crease of Sam’s ass and closed his eyes, groaning softly. Fuck, he could feel Sam’s tight little hole against his fingertip, hot and clenched.

And slick.

Suddenly angry, Dean bit at his brother’s neck, making him whine. “Someone fuck you today?” he growled.

Sam swallowed, his throat bobbing against Dean’s lips. “...Y-yes—”


“Someone you don’t know, she’s in my English class—”

Dean didn’t want to hear any more. He pressed his finger harder against the wet heat of Sam’s hole and Sam fell silent with a whine. Dean froze there, one finger pressed against his brother’s asshole, panting against the hickeys he’d left on Sam’s neck.

“D-Dean?” Sam shivered, licking his lips nervously. “Are... are you gonna...”

Dean shuddered and choked out “fuck” between his clenched teeth. His finger twitched against Sam’s hole.

Sam whimpered. “...G-god... w-we shouldn’t do this... we’re brothers, we shouldn’t do this...”

“Do you want me to?” Dean panted fervently.

Sam pressed his hips up, easing the tip of Dean’s finger into his hole. “F-fuck, Dean, I n-need it!”

Dean groaned and pushed his finger inside his little brother. Sam cried out, grabbing at Dean’s shirt with one shaking hand.

“Oh god oh god you’re in me, my brother’s in me, oh god I’m—I’m so f-fucked...”

Sam’s hole was fucked-loose, messy with lube inside, like it had been pumped into him straight from the bottle. Dean probed around, fingering his brother like he would finger a girl. He’d expected this to feel weird, different, because it was a man he was touching instead of a woman, but this... Dean pressed his finger in up to the knuckle, wiggling it inside his brother, and Sam squirmed. This felt just like any other tight, wet hole that he was dying to bury himself inside.

Dean flinched in surprise when he felt a desperate hand groping at his erection, feeling it through the denim.

“F-fuck, Dean...” Sam panted as he worked Dean’s zipper open with a shaking hand. “Please...”

Please stop. Please keep going. He could hear both in Sam’s voice. Dean pushed another finger in, groaning at how easily Sam took them. Sam’s hand slid into his brother’s jeans, finding his hard cock and tugging it eagerly. Sam whimpered, pushing his hips down against his brother’s hand.

“Fuck,” Sam panted, “fuck, this is so fucking wrong...”

Dean shivered when Sam’s hand curled around the base of his cock and tugged up the length. Sam’s hand worked him hungrily, eagerly, fraying what little self-control he had left. Dean panted into Sam’s neck, biting at the lobe of his ear. “Fuck, S-Sammy—”

Sam whimpered, jerking his brother off while he was fingered. Dean knew how filthy this was, how wrong, but he couldn’t stop, not when it felt this fucking good. Every twist of Sam’s hand over the head of his cock made him see stars.

“Take your pants off,” Dean hissed in Sam’s ear, pushing in a third finger, making Sam stretch.

Sam slid his shaking hand off of Dean’s cock and grabbed the waistline of his shorts, trembling as he tugged them down. He stopped with a whine when Dean’s fingers thrust.

“Dean, oh fuck—”

“Keep going, Sammy, take ’em off.”

Sam nodded, breathing hard as Dean’s fingers pumped in him. He dragged the shorts as far down as he could, his cock springing up against his stomach, leaking. Dean swallowed at the sight. He pulled his slick fingers out of Sam’s hole so he could grab that thick cock, giving it a slow jerk while Sam struggled with his pants. Sam finally pulled his knees up to his chest to take them off, and Dean sat up suddenly, staring between his brother’s legs at the view.


Sam’s face was red and he seemed frozen, shorts caught around his knees, legs pulled up to his chest. Dean had an unobstructed view of his pink, smooth balls and his round ass and that hot, slick, inviting hole—

Dean grabbed the backs of Sam’s legs with a growl, pinning them against his chest and leaning over him. Sam choked in alarm.

“D-Dean?” he stammered, eyes wide as he stared up at his brother.

Dean grunted and managed to wrench Sam’s shorts off of one leg, spreading his brother wide and slotting himself between those fit thighs.

Sam pressed a hand over his mouth and made a strangled noise when Dean pulled down his open jeans, letting his cock spring loose. “Oh fuck—oh fuck you’re gonna—”

“Want you,” Dean panted against Sam’s lips. “Want you, Sammy...” He pressed the head of his cock against the soft warmth of Sam’s hole and bit his tongue. “Oh god...”

He could feel the heat of his brother’s entrance. Sam was staring up at him wide-eyed, breathless, not making a move or saying a word to stop him. Dean chewed his lip, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth over Sam’s hole, smearing precome over it. He was shaking slightly.

Fuck. He’d just wanted to pay his freshman little brother a visit in college. And somehow he’d ended up here, between his little brother’s legs, with his jeans tugged down so he could press the head of his cock against little Sammy’s hole.

“D-Dean...” Sam licked his lips, his hole clenching against the head of Dean’s cock. “Are... are you gonna...”

“Christ I’m going to hell,” Dean spilled out against Sam’s lips, shivering. He nudged at Sam’s hole, feeling the heat of it start to open up around him...

“Oh god...” Sam’s lips brushed over his, and fuck if that didn’t feel just as forbidden as Sam’s tight little hole starting to wrap around the tip of his cock. “Dean...”

Dean could taste the whiskey on Sam’s breath. He pressed his hand gently over Sam’s chest, over his brother’s pounding heart. Sammy. He slid his hand down slowly, over that tense stomach, finding Sam’s cock and wrapping his fingers around it. Then he sealed his mouth over his brother’s and rocked his hips forward, sliding his cock inside.

Sam muffled a frantic noise against Dean’s mouth as his brother’s cock penetrated him, pushing into his body. Dean groaned loudly, giving Sam’s cock a slow jerk. His heart was pounding so fast that he felt lightheaded, nothing but shivering tingles from head to toe. Sam was heaven around his cock, nice tight ass squeezing him just right, an absolute mess of lube inside. Dean groaned and pushed in harder, forcing Sam’s legs to spread even wider and pressing his balls up against his brother’s ass.

When he pulled his mouth away from Sam’s to take a breath, Sam gasped Dean’s name and grabbed at his jacket. His face was flushed, his lips wet and pink from the kiss, and he gasped again when Dean pulled his cock back a few inches and thrust back in.

“Oh god yes, Dean, fuck, Dean—”

Dean rolled his hips, pumping into his little brother. Sam grabbed at Dean’s back and cried out, legs in the air as his brother fucked him. Dean panted into Sam’s neck, still grabbing his brother’s cock and squeezing, tugging—

“Dean, nooooooo, god, I’m gonna—Dean—you’re gonna make me—” Sam squirmed, squeezing around his brother’s thick cock as it slicked in and out of his body. “D-Dean, I’m gonna come!”

Dean groaned and thrust harder, balls bumping against Sam’s ass with each deep thrust. “Do it, god, do it, Sammy, wanna—wanna see it, wanna feel it—”

Sam’s used hole had felt so loose and inviting around Dean’s fingers, he had no idea how his brother was suddenly so tight. Sam was clenching around Dean’s cock as if begging for more, his hole squeezing nice and snug as Dean fucked into it. Dean groaned and ground his hips down, pressed flush against his brother’s body, making quick, shallow humps that kept him buried in his brother.

“Wanna—wanna come in you, Sammy,” Dean panted against his little brother’s neck.

Sam’s whole body shuddered. He grabbed at Dean’s back, holding him close, fingers digging into the leather of his jacket. “Oh god oh god oh god please fucking do it—”

Sam’s cock was throbbing in Dean’s hand, slick at the tip with precome. It bounced each time Dean thrust into him.

Sam pressed his face into Dean’s neck, wrapping his legs around Dean and pulling him in. Oh fuck, the noises he made, whimpers and moans and desperate gasps, it unraveled Dean, made him thrust so hard that the bed rocked, springs squeaking and frame creaking. Dean’s hips slapped against Sam’s round ass each time he stuffed his cock into his little brother—

Sam shouted something incoherent and his cock pulsed in Dean’s hand when he came. Dean jerked him through it, chanting Sam’s name and pumping into his stuffed little hole while Sam writhed.

Sam was grabbing at Dean’s hair with one shaking hand. “Oh god, are you g-gonna come in me, Dean? You gonna—gonna come in your little brother?”

Dean was embarrassed by how fast he came. He gasped wide-eyed as the pleasure hit him like a freight train, his cock pulsing inside Sam and filling his little brother up.

It felt like a decade before he caught his breath. He could feel Sam panting against his neck, his breath warm and damp and comforting. Dean finally grunted as he pulled his softening cock out of Sam’s body and flopped on the bed next to him, staring at the dorm ceiling and breathing slowly.

This was the part where he should fling himself out of bed. He should pull his pants up and storm out the door and get on the road and drive away, and pray to god that Sam was too drunk to remember this had happened. He ought to mumble something about how he’d fucked up and he was sorry and he’d never do that to Sam again. He ought to let Sam finish college in peace.

But... the bed was so warm. And Sam’s soft breathing was so soothing, a slow inhale-exhale pattern that wouldn’t let an ounce of tension find a foothold in Dean’s mind. He searched for the regret and the disgust and the self-loathing, but it wasn’t there. Just the gentle touch of Sam’s fingers weaving between his.

Sam was the first one to break the silence with an uneasy mumble. “...I’m a little surprised you’re still here.”

Dean managed a laugh, squeezing Sam’s hand in his. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Does that mean... you...”

Dean rolled his head to the side, meeting Sam’s eyes. Sam licked his lips anxiously. When Dean opened his mouth to answer, Sam interrupted.

“Don’t leave.”

He squeezed Dean’s hand harder when he said it, as if trying to hold his brother in place. Dean doubted that Sam realized how effective it was. If he’d felt lethargic before, now he felt locked in place by the desperate grip of those fingers.

“I’ve been apart from you too long already. Just... don’t leave because of this. Please.”

Dean closed his mouth, then smiled. He rolled over and brushed his fingertips over Sam’s jaw. “Hey. Never again, little brother.”

Dean had enough unpleasantness in his life. He wasn’t about to throw away something that felt this good. Not when it made Sam smile like that, sweet and happy and bright as the fucking sun cresting the horizon. Nothing that made Sam smile like that could be wrong.

Sam rubbed his nose against Dean’s, closing his eyes and letting out a relieved sigh. Dean was about to grab his brother and kiss him, hard and deep, but Sam started talking.

“So, uh... you really don’t like the fact that I...”

Dean blinked. “What, sleep around?”

Sam nodded.

“Sammy, it’s not like that... I just hadn’t seen you in so long. Felt like I’d... kinda lost you.” He ruffled Sam’s hair, like he’d done when they were kids. “Knowing that so many other people got to be close to you...” He licked his lips. “I needed you to remember that...”

Sam covered Dean’s hand in his and dragged it over his heart. “I got it, Dean.”

Dean managed a tired smile.

“I’m yours, right?”

“Yeah. Just wish everyone knew that.”

The smile faded from Sam’s face. “It’s Friday night. I know where the nearest party is.”

Dean’s grin evaporated. For a moment, he and Sam just stared at each other.

That’s when they flung themselves out of bed.

Dark had fallen over Stanford’s campus. It looked a lot less dumpy to Dean now that he could walk across it with his arm possessively wrapped around Sam’s waist.

The peaceful studiers of daytime Stanford had evacuated their sunny benches, replaced by the first flutters of night life. The campus was riddled with students in a state of unwinding, chatting and laughing, not a textbook to be seen. As Sam and Dean passed a group of guys talking under a lamp post, Dean caught one of the guys running his eyes up and down Sam’s body. This time, instead of having to content himself with glares, Dean gave the man a savage grin and grabbed Sam’s ass hard enough to make his brother yelp. The man who had been staring let out a disappointed snort and turned back to his friends.

“I like this,” Dean hissed into Sam’s neck. “Everyone knows you’re mine tonight.”

Sam whined, keeping his hands obediently by his sides as Dean groped his ass. HIs whole body radiated submission. Dean gave Sam’s ass a gentle pat.

“You look like you’ve got your tail between your legs, Sammy,” he teased.

Sam shuddered. “J-just your hand.”

“You always could pull off puppydog eyes.” Dean stroked his hand under Sam’s chin. “Huh. I should get my baby brother a collar.”

Sam swallowed hard.

The party was packed. Dean kept his hand sealed over Sam’s ass so no one else would be tempted to cop a feel.

“Heeeeey, Sam.”

Sam turned, and Dean followed. A girl with silky-dark hair was draped around a tall guy that Dean recognized as one of the basketball players. They were both smiling at Sam.

“Come play with me and Randy, Sam,” the girl begged. “I miss seeing him fuck your face.”

“Yeah, and I miss seeing her ride your dick.”

Dean smiled at the couple and calmly slipped his hand down the back of Sam’s pants. Sam’s face went red.

“Sorry, kids. He’s mine.”

The girl bit her knuckle eagerly, but Randy frowned. “And who are you?”

Dean slipped his finger into the crease of Sam’s ass. Sam shivered. “H-he’s—he’s my b—”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Dean interrupted.

The girl squeaked, but Randy looked deeply skeptical. Dean nuzzled under Sam’s hair and gave his neck a kiss.

“Little Sammy misses me when I don’t visit.”

The girl laughed. “Wow, you must be his boyfriend. He doesn’t let anyone call him Sammy.”

Randy raised an eyebrow. “Uh... no offense, man, but your boyfriend’s a bit of a slut.”

Dean pressed the tip of his finger into Sam’s come-slick hole and Sam whined. Dean grinned. “Damn straight he is. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go fuck him again. He gets so needy if he doesn’t get a cock in his ass every five minutes.”

Sam clenched around Dean’s finger.

“Oh, don’t let us keep you,” the girl urged, tugging on her boyfriend’s arm and leading him away with a disappointed look on his face.

Sam turned back to Dean with a red face. “D-Dean—”

“Hush, Sammy, you’ve still got three more years to spend here,” Dean murmured, cupping Sam’s face with one hand and working his finger in with the other. He leaned close to Sam’s ear and whispered, “It’s fine, no one’s gotta know we’re brothers. I don’t want people giving you crap for it. It’ll be our little secret until you graduate, hm?”

Sam chewed his lip and nodded as Dean fingered him. “...Y-yeah. I guess.”

“Now come on, slut, I need to show everyone who you belong to.”

Dean managed to drag Sam through the crowd until they found a chair in the corner of the room. He sat down on it and pulled Sam onto his lap.

Sam was already breathing hard, his cock hard and obvious in his shorts. “D-Dean—”

Dean smirked and slid both of his hands down the back of Sam’s pants, grabbing his ass in full view of the room. “Pull these down for me, baby.”


Sam grabbed the hem of his shorts and started tugging them down. He stopped with a whine when the crease of his ass started to peek out. “Fuck...”

Dean cupped Sam’s face. “Too much, Sammy?”

“N-no, god, want you to do it in front of everyone...” Sam pulled his shorts down further, panting against Dean’s neck, exposing his ass to the room. He shuddered when Dean squeezed. “Oh g-god—”

“You’re gonna give this party such a nice show, aren’t you, Sammy?”

“Y-yes sir...”

Dean groaned and his hips jerked. “Fuck, Sammy, so fucking obedient...”

Dean rubbed his finger over Sam’s hole, nipping at his brother’s neck. Sam was whimpering into Dean’s hair, keeping his face buried. Dean could see people staring, greedily eating up the sight of Sam’s bare ass in his hands, giving him looks ranging from approving to envious.

Dean kissed Sam’s neck. “People are lookin’ at you, Sammy. They all wish they were in my place.”

Sam’s hands clenched on Dean’s shoulders. “F-fuck—”

“You like getting fucked in front of a crowd, don’t you? Like having an audience?”


“I bet they’d all like to take a turn with you. Pass you around like a party favor, let everyone use your slutty ass and mouth and cock.” Dean pushed two fingers into Sam’s come-slick hole, in full view of the room. Someone wolf whistled and Dean grinned. “But you’re mine tonight, Sammy. Only I’m gonna use you. And everyone else is gonna watch.”

Sam’s fingers were digging into Dean’s jacket. “Oh fuck yes, fuck fuck fuck—”

Dean slicked his fingers in and out slowly. “Why don’t you get my cock out? I know you’re dying to ride it.”

Sam nodded and fumbled at Dean’s pants, whimpering as his brother fingered him.

“Wish I could tell them,” he whispered low and heated in Dean’s ear. “Wish they all knew that my big brother was the one fucking me.”

Dean groaned and squeezed his brother’s ass. “Sammy...”

Sam pulled Dean’s cock out of his pants, touching and tugging it like he couldn’t keep his hands off. He kept whispering into Dean’s neck as he jerked his brother off. “I want them all to know I’m yours, that my tough big brother owns me and no one gets to have me like you do.”

Dean hesitated, rubbing his hand in a circle over Sam’s ass. “...That true, Sammy?”

Sam kissed Dean’s neck. “...Never had sex in my dorm bed until tonight. Anywhere else, but not in my room. It’s my space, my private area. You just... you belong in my space, Dean.”

Dean nuzzled Sam’s neck, then bit at his ear. “Graduation gift,” he murmured. “I’ll take you to a party just like this and you can introduce me to everyone as your big brother. Then I’ll bend you over and make you scream in front of everyone.”

Sam’s hand fisted in Dean’s hair, the other squeezing his cock. “F-fuck—”

Dean grabbed Sam’s hips and lifted him, and Sam positioned Dean’s cock against his hole obediently. Someone in the crowd cheered and Sam shivered.

“Sit on it, slut,” Dean breathed against the pit of Sam’s throat. “Ride that cock for the audience.”

Sam whimpered and pushed his hips down slowly, letting the head of Dean’s cock slip into him. Someone catcalled. Sam whimpered and shifted his hips, tensing around Dean’s cock. Dean groaned and grabbed Sam’s hips, slamming his little brother down on his cock and drawing a startled gasp from him.


“Fuck, there’s a good boy,” Dean groaned into Sam’s neck, thrusting up into him slowly and grabbing his round ass. The crowd must be getting a killer view. Sam’s hole was clenched so fucking tight around him, and he knew everyone could see it stuffed full of his cock.

Sam had his face buried in Dean’s neck, panting out a stream of breathless words as his brother’s dick pumped up into him. “Oh god fuck everyone can see fuck fuck they’re all watching you fuck me oh god they’re all watching my big brother fuck me—”

Dean grabbed Sam hard, already breathless from the hot squeeze of Sam around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good...”

His hold on Sam’s hips was becoming less and less necessary. Sam was moving on his own, lifting and pushing and rolling his hips, riding his big brother’s cock like a pro. Dean’s head fell back and he panted, eyes closed as Sam kissed his neck and rode him. “Fucking hell, Sammy...”

“Th-they’re all watching me, Dean, fuck, I can feel their eyes on me...”

“S’cause you’re a pretty slut, Sammy, you look so damn good riding a cock.” Dean groaned and squeezed his brother’s round ass as it slid up and down his shaft. “Fuck, bet they all think they’re about to get a turn with this sweet hole. But there’s no fuckin’ way I’m pulling out of you, Sammy, wanna be buried in you all night.”

Sam pushed his hips down hard, whimpering as Dean pressed deep inside him. “F-fuck...”

“They think I’m gonna just hand you out like a toy for everyone to play with.” Dean nipped Sam’s neck. “You think I’m gonna do that, Sam?”

“...N-no, sir. I’m y-yours.”

Dean rubbed his hand in a circle over Sam’s ass, then gave it a gentle smack. “Good boy.”

Sam clenched at the spank, pressing his face into Dean’s neck and shaking. Dean laughed and smacked his brother’s ass again.

“Like that, Sammy?”


“Big, round, slutty ass, I should have been able to tell you’d want it spanked.”

“Oh god, please...”

Sam had been tense and tight around Dean before, but with each spank he squeezed even harder, letting out a gasp after each slap. Dean started jerking his hips up to meet Sam’s movements, slamming up into his little brother and making him cry out.

“Oh god, p-please come in me, sir, d-do it in front of everyone, I’ll be so good for you, please—”

That was the final fucking straw. Dean buried his face in Sam’s neck and groaned loudly as his cock throbbed inside Sam, pulsing a second load of come into him. He could feel Sam’s breath against his neck, “Oh god, that’s it, please, give me all of it...”

Dean let out a long breath when his cock stopped twitching. His hands tightened around Sam’s hips and he pulled his brother snug into his lap, keeping his cock buried.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he whispered into Sam’s ear, reaching between their bodies to find his brother’s cock, swollen and needy. “You’re going to sit on my dick until it’s hard again, and if anyone comes by and asks for a turn, you’re going to tell them that you’re mine, that they can look but they can’t touch. When you feel my cock stiffening inside you, you’re gonna ride it again, because my sweet little slut deserves at least three loads of come in his ass.”

From Sam’s breathless, choked noise and from the way his cock throbbed in Dean’s hand, he liked the plan.

Dean blinked awake in the morning light. He frowned. This was one tiny-ass motel bed. And why were there books everywhere?

Then his brain registered the warm, comforting smell enveloping him as Sam. And he remembered last night.

Dean rolled over gently in the bed, only to find an awake Sam staring at him and smiling.

“Morning,” Sam mumbled.

Dean reached his arms above his head and stretched, snorting good-naturedly. “Were you watching me sleep? Creepy, Sammy.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Dean huffed out a breath as he let his arms relax and flopped them back by his sides. He slung an arm around Sam’s waist, pulling him close and kissing him.

“I have to get on the road,” he murmured against Sam’s lips.

Sam sighed in disappointment, pressing his body up against Dean’s. “Got a job?”

“I told Dad I’d meet him today. I’m sorry. I wanna stay.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam kissed Dean again, then rolled out of bed.

As they got dressed, Sam cleared his throat.

“You’d better visit. A lot. I’m serious, Dean.”

Dean snickered. “You always are. I’ll come by at least once a month.”

Sam hesitated, staring at the shirt in his hands but not making a move to pull it on. He let out a breath, and it sounded resolved. “I’ll... I’ll wait for you.”

“Yeah, don’t go running off to any other colleges while I’m gone—”

“No, Dean, I mean... I’ll wait for you.” Sam looked at him. “If you want me to. I won’t like it, but I’ll... I’ll just focus on my studies and not...”

Dean hesitated with one leg shoved down his pants. “...Sam, are you offering to not sleep with anyone else while I’m gone?”

“You don’t like it when I do, right?”

Dean thought for a moment, then pulled his pants the rest of the way on. “Nah, I think you should sleep with whoever you want, Sammy.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“I mean it.” Dean walked over to Sam and placed his hands on his brother’s hips. “I think you should misbehave a lot while I’m gone.”

Sam looked like his mouth had gone dry.

Dean brushed a finger over his brother’s lips. “You should be just as naughty and slutty as you want, and when I come back... well, I’ll have to reclaim you all over again, won’t I?”

Sam made a soft, choked sound and nodded. “Y-yeah. Yeah, you will.”

Dean grinned and gave Sam’s ass a pat. “Keep this nice and loose for me,” he ordered softly, “I’ll need it when I get back.” He gave his red-faced brother one more kiss and pulled away, walking out the door with a huge smile on his face.

He couldn’t wait to visit Stanford again.