Chapter Text
It's hard to pin point the exact moment when Dean's feelings toward his brother turned and twisted into something other than brotherly. In his defense, Sam's like a walking and talking wet dream. Miles of tanned skin just begging to be marked up, long shaggy chestnut hair that's almost always falling in his eyes, broad shoulders and god! don't even get him started on Sam's stomach. His abs are just starting to form but Dean can already see the potential there. His slender waist just begging for Dean's hands, for his mouth, for his tongue. Okay so, maybe he's got it really bad for his kid brother but damn, like he said, walking and talking wet dream.
It's so much more than that though. Sam is, well, he's Dean's everything. He's so damn smart, and he's all heart, that kid. Always understanding and compassionate. He's gonna save the world one day with all that love, Dean's sure of it. From the moment their dad placed his tiny body in Dean's arms he knew without a doubt that no one would ever come close to meaning what Sam meant to him. That someone had carved a Sam size hole inside his heart leaving no room for anyone or anything else. It was just that simple.
Somewhere along the way the lines got blurred. Blurred enough that they stumbled over them and into each other's arms. The next morning brought with it guilt that ate at Dean's conscience like a hungry cancer and words of "never again Sammy," that shattered his little brother's heart. But Little brother's with broken hearts are dangerous. They put on a show by licking their sticky, ice-cream covered fingers. Their gaze never leaving yours because of course you're watching, dick painfully hard in your pants, finger's aching to grab and show him exactly what he should be sucking on. You try to be good, to do the right thing but Sam's not playing fair.
So yeah, If Dean's being honest with himself, he would admit that this is all his fault. That he's successfully and single handedly created a monster, one who looks at him with innocent kaleidoscope eyes but let's be clear... There's nothing innocent about his 15 year old brother. He's gonna be Dean's undoing. Destroy him in the most beautiful way possible.
They're stuck in the impala headed towards Grand Haven Michigan with their dad snoring loudly in the passenger seat and his brother moping in the back. Dean hates to see Sam unhappy but damn, at least this way he'll get a small break. It's getting harder to ignore, those reasons he tells himself why it's wrong no longer sounding as logical. His resolve is wearing dangerously thin.
Little brother's are also sneaky and brave and there's no way Dean could have prepared himself for the living, breathing temptation all but fondling himself in the back seat. Those long fingers rubbing over his basketball shorts to tease his hard prick that's now clearly outlined and dean can't help but glance into the rear view mirror to sneak a peak. He's breathing hard trying to ignore his own swollen member now pressing painfully against his zipper and he turns the radio up to try and cover the half-broken little moans floating their way up to the front seat.
Classic rock spills into the car, the lyrics a perfect soundtrack to this perverted little peep show.
Burn out the day
Burn out the night
I can't see no reason
To put up a fight
I'm living for givin' the devil his due,
I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin', for you
I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you!
There's a light sheen of sweat on Dean's forehead and he licks his lips and peeks at his father still asleep and thankfully oblivious to what's going on. His fucking heart is hammering inside his chest, throat dry and knuckles white from the death grip he's got on the steering wheel.
Sam arches his back hands flirting with the waistband of his shorts. Slowly, pulling them down until his dick pops free and slaps angrily against his stomach smearing pre-come that's now dripping from the tip.
Dean swallows hard against the knot in his throat, tries not to whine because Goddamn! Sam's trying to kill him.
Sam's hand has a deadly rhythm going, striping his dick fast, endgame in sight. Dean sucks in a breath because he knows what's coming. And he tries to swallow down the growl trying to crawl it's way up his throat as Sam shoots his load, wet and oozing down his fingers.
"Dean", he hears a familiar voice say pulling his attention to the gruff and grouchy man staring at him questioningly in the passenger seat.
" You wanna explain to me why you're doing 90 in a 70 mph zone? You got a fire in your pants or something boy?"
"I - uh," he stammers glancing one more quick peek at his brother that's now wrapped in a blanket, head laying against the window, "sound asleep". That little shit!
" Sorry sir," he continues. "I'm just getting tired and there's no body else out. Haven't passed another car in 20 miles. "
"You only got another 20 or 30 minutes till we get there son. You think you can handle that?" His dad asks
"Yes sir" he replies and keeps his eyes on the road.
He's done with these games. If Sam wants it then that's exactly what he's gonna get. Big brothers are dangerous too.