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Dean’s tendency to follow in their father’s footsteps doesn’t end with drinking. It doesn’t take Sam long to recognize that.
They’re different when they’re drunk though. John keeps to himself, doesn’t want to be bothered. He’s quick to anger and touchy as hell so Sam learns to leave him alone. Dean’s different. He’s pushy.
Sam is still a little too young to understand all of it. He’s never been drunk so he can’t say he knows what it’s like. All he knows is it makes Dean act strange.
Two years ago Dean crawled into Sam’s bed one night and touched him. It wasn’t the first time Dean had touched him but it was the first time he’d done it until Sam came. He’d always stopped before. Sam could remember smelling the alcohol on him; that was the first time he’d ever noticed it. The morning after, Dean apologized, holding Sam’s shoulders and telling him it wouldn’t happen again. That Sam didn’t do anything wrong. That he’d stop drinking around him.
He stayed true to his word for a long time, but had been slipping into old habits lately. He’d done it again about two weeks ago. They both came that time. Sam didn’t know how he felt about it. It felt good but something about it scared him. When he said Dean’s name his brother didn’t seem to hear him, not when he was like that. Dean would just close his eyes and grip onto Sam harder. Like he needed him. Sam liked that part, he liked feeling needed.
Tonight Dean was drinking again, and he was doing it at home. Sam had been watching him all night while he drank more and more, knowing what it meant that he wasn’t out with friends. He went to bed before Dean did, leaving his brother out in the main room with the TV and his bottle of whiskey. And he waited.
He was almost asleep when Dean crawled in to bed next to him.
He felt Dean’s larger body settle against his back and felt an arm sliding over his waist. Dean’s face nuzzled against the back of Sam’s head into his hair.
“Sammy,” Dean whispered in a pained voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” Sam whispered back, it was almost a question but not quite. Dean kissed down the back of his neck, running his hand underneath Sam’s shirt over his chest.
“I can’t stop Sam. I’ve tried but I can’t stop,” Dean said in the same broken tone. His hand traced lower down Sam’s torso, over his ribs, down his abdomen. Sam sucked in a breath when Dean slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and started massaging the area around his dick.
“You’re gonna hate me when you’re older,” Dean said against Sam’s skin.
“I’m not ever gonna hate you Dean,” Sam said almost too quiet to hear.
“Yes you will. You don’t know what a monster I am.”
“You aren’t a monster,” Sam’s breath hitched when Dean’s hand closed around him.
“Are you afraid?”
Sam shook his head against the pillow and bit his lip. His heart was beating so fast he thought Dean must be able to hear it.
Dean was pulling him nice and slow, thumbing over the head of his cock and twisting his hand as he dragged it up and down. Sam let out a quiet moan.
Dean moaned too, even though he wasn’t being touched. He sounded frustrated. Sam could feel his brother’s hardness pressing into his ass. Dean seemed to notice the contact too, and he pushed his hips up against him to get friction. Last time, when they both came, it was like this.
But after a few more moments Dean stopped stroking him off. Stopped moving altogether. And Sam held his breath, not knowing what it meant. Dean pulled his hand out of Sam’s boxers and propped himself up on his arm and Sam turned to look at him, wondering if there would be any sort of clue to how Dean was feeling in his face. Dean’s eyes were hooded, it was too dark to see any color in them. What Sam could see of his face was unreadable as well.
“Turn over,” Dean said, his voice low.
Something about his tone sent fear seeping into Sam’s blood. Dean had never done this before. “Why?”
“Just do it Sam,” Dean said, putting an arm on Sam’s shoulder and pushing it down against the bed so that he was lying flat on his back. He slung a leg over Sam’s waist so he was straddling him.
“Dea-,” Sam started, but Dean started kissing him and he couldn’t finish. His older brother’s hands were running all over him, over his cheek, through his hair. And Dean’s mouth was insistent like it hadn’t been before, pushing a tongue into Sam’s mouth and sucking on his bottom lip while he ground their bodies together.
Sam tried to sit up but Dean grabbed hold of his wrists and held them down against the bed. He started to panic because his brother was bigger than him, stronger. And Sam wasn’t really sure what was wrong with him at the moment. He’d never been quite this pushy before.
“Let me go,” Sam said, struggling in Dean’s grip.
“I can’t, I told you. I’m sorry Sammy,” Dean said, kissing him once more, softer this time. “You’ve got to trust me. Let me.”
Sam looked into Dean’s eyes. He still couldn’t read them.
“Do you understand Sam? You have to let me do this,” He said, letting go of Sam’s wrists and slipping his fingers under the waistband of Sam’s boxers again, pulling them downward. Sam grabbed hold of them, attempting to cover himself.
“No, Dean stop. Please,” Sam said feeling sick. Dean grabbed Sam’s hand and pried it off pinning it down against the bed again.
“Don’t ask me to stop,” Dean said. His voice was firm. It was an order. Sam fell silent. He stopped moving too, letting Dean pull his boxers down around his ankles and remove his own pajama pants and underwear. Sam thought he might throw up. He felt tears stinging in his eyes.
Dean reached over him and pulled a bottle of lube out of the dresser and squeezed a good amount onto his fingers.
“This is so that it doesn’t hurt. I don’t want it to hurt you.”
“Please don’t,” Sam choked out. When Dean placed a hand on his knee and pushed his leg up toward his chest.
Dean shook his head. When he spoke his voice was coarse, like it was when he was upset. “Open your legs Sam. Keep them up to your chest.”
Sam tried to keep a sob in, and Dean placed a warm hand on his abdomen. “Shhhh. It’s going to be alright. I’m not going to hurt you okay?” Sam closed his eyes and nodded, something about Dean’s voice was calming to him. Even now.
His body tensed when he felt Dean’s fingers on him. The lube was cold. To distract him Dean took Sam’s cock into his other hand, leaning down to lick around the head before taking him in. Sam had never had a blowjob before, it felt really really good. He probably would have been able to enjoy it if he wasn’t so fucking scared. He gasped when Dean slowly pushed one finger inside him.
“You’re okay Sam. It’s gonna be okay,” Dean said softly, eventually pushing a second finger in and moving them in and out. Dean kept working his mouth over Sam’s cock while he pushed his fingers inside him, in a slow deliberate rhythm that set a warm pleasure building in Sam’s body. Sam couldn’t keep back quiet breaths that were beginning to melt into soft moans. It was like nothing made sense. He didn’t know why it felt so good, because he still wanted Dean to stop. He’d be begging him to stop if he could form the words. Instead he just cried silently.
Dean pushed a third finger in and that’s when it started to stretch him uncomfortably. Sam squirmed. “Easy,” Dean said calmly. “I got you.”
Sam felt a tear slide down the side of his face. Dean must have seen it because he reached is free arm up and thumbed it away before it could trickle into his hair. “I’m going to make it feel good for you Sam. Does this feel good?”
It did so Sam nodded, stomach twisting.
“Okay,” Dean said, more to himself than to Sam. He pulled his fingers out and sat back on his knees between Sam’s legs. “I know you’re scared. But you don’t need to be.” He said as he slipped a hand under Sam’s ass so he could prop him up and give him easier access.
“Dean,” Sam pleaded one last time. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. Dean hesitated for just a moment.
“I have to,” Dean said quietly, before positioning his cock against Sam’s entrance and slowly pushing in.
He didn’t push in all the way but Sam felt like he was being stretched impossibly wide and he panicked. Dean was going to rip him open. He felt Dean rest a forearm on his chest as he slowly began to move in and out. Dean had said it wouldn’t hurt but it did.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Sam. How fucking long I’ve wanted to know what it’s like to be inside you.” Sam had a shaking hand around Dean’s wrist, holding onto him desperately, like if he held on hard enough he’d be okay.
“I’ve wanted you so bad,” Dean continued, pushing into him more deliberately this time and eliciting a ragged moan from his little brother.
“Wanted to hear you make that sound,” Dean said a little breathlessly.
Sam was fully hard now, and his body seemed to have adjusted a little to Dean’s size. The thrusts were coming more quickly, but paired with Dean’s hand, which was back to stroking him again, it was starting to send jolts of pleasure deep into his spine.
His back arched when Dean pushed into him at just the right angle and his breath hitched. He hissed out Dean’s name.
“Good?” Dean breathed as he repeated the motion, pushing into Sam and doing his best to hit his prostate. Sam was breathing hard, eyes clenched shut. He nodded, trying to relax as Dean pushed into him again and again, feeling tension growing in his groin.
Dean was letting out little groans every few thrusts. He had a hand splayed on Sam’s hip now and was using it as leverage to bury himself deeper inside his brother, pushing him back on the bed.
“I want you to come from this Sam. I need you to come,” Dean said, smearing Sam’s precome over his dick and stroking him faster. “I know you’re close.”
“Dean please,” He said shakily.
“Shh, Sammy it’s okay. It’s okay. You can come. I’ve got you,” Dean focused on the way he was moving his hand over Sam’s cock, listening closely for what made Sam moan, watching his chest for when he drew in sharp breaths.
When Dean sensed Sam was there, he pushed deep into him again and that was it. Sam came with a cry, orgasm rippling through him. Dean felt Sam pulsing around him and rode him through it, steadying Sam’s legs as they shook. He was close himself, and when Sam’s body had finally gone slack it only took him a few more thrusts before he was coming too, filling Sam and gasping his name. He had found Sam’s hand and squeezed it hard in his while he came.
When Dean pulled out of him it felt strange, empty. Sam could feel some of his brother’s come leaking out of him when he let Sam sit up and his face flushed red.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, hurrying to get off the bed and wiping himself off with a tissue. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”
“You’re not, it’s okay,” Dean said, looking away from Sam’s eyes. He crawled off the bed and pulled on his pants.
“You can sleep in my bed tonight if you want. I’m going out,” Dean said.
“When are you coming back?” Sam said, trying not to start crying again.
“I don’t know,” Dean said flatly.
Sam crossed over to Dean and gently touched his waist. Dean closed his eyes and tensed. “You don’t have to go. I’m not mad,” Sam said. His voice was shaking and it frustrated him because he wanted to be strong for Dean.
Dean stepped away from his brother. “You should be.”
And Dean grabbed his shirt from the floor and walked past him, leaving Sam standing alone in the bedroom.
When he heard the front door close, Sam crawled into the bed and cried.