If only Sammy had been born a girl.
He tipped his head forward and grunted as Dad forced him onto the last half-inch of his cock. His chest, lean and severely underdeveloped for Dean’s taste, rose and fell in a heavy rhythm as Sam panted and grabbed at the sweaty sheets underneath them. Dean watched his face twist, his virginity well and truly notched into Dad’s bedpost now, and he felt his stomach sinking.
He always hoped that it’d be him.
Sam was humid and pretty, his mouth hanging open as he took in breath after breath. Dad grabbed his hips in his big hands and thrust up into Sam, perfect little Sammy who Dean should have called dibs on when he still had the chance.
“You’d be a perfect little trophy wife,” Dad said as he raked Sam’s hair out of his face, exposing more flushed, sweaty skin for Dean to ogle.
He struggled to even let his gaze drift down Sam’s body, stopping just shy of his mid-back before he was fixed on his baby brother’s face once again. Dean shouldn’t have been looking at all: he was only permitted to watch as a punishment for insubordination. Sitting at the table beside Sam’s bed, his nails digging into his jeans as he watched Dad give it to Sammy. His baby.
—
It’d be so much easier if Sammy was a girl, he thought as he watched Sam lying in bed, resting off his first time with a comfortable, slackened look on his face. His eyes were shut, his hands bunched up underneath his pillow and his mouth barely hanging open. Dean knew what Sam’s mouth tasted like already—goodnight kisses put on hold when Sam decided he was too old, only to be resumed when he wanted practice for future girlfriends that Dean would never allow him to have.
The shower was muffled but still ungodly loud in the small room, and Dean could hear Dad chuckling, proud of deflowering both of his boys. He shouldn’t have been jealous of his own father, but he couldn’t resist feeling like his punishment was pointed and purposeful.
Sam shifted in his sleep, his expression scrunching into something uncomfortable that finally set Dean over the edge. He got up from his bed and knelt at the edge of Sammy’s, immediately brought to someplace between four-year-old obligation and twenty-year-old devotion.
“Sammy,” he said softly, touching his soft, sweat-dampened hair. “Are you okay, baby?”
—
His eyes opened slowly, his world at first dark before it was filled by Dean. And that was how it always had been, hadn’t it?
—
“Dean,” he croaked back, a small smile spreading across his face.
“Sammy,” he said again.
His hand moved down Sam’s cheek, cupping soft skin. Dean knew Sam’s face better than his own, always the first thing he saw in the morning and the last he saw at night, and he would have it no other way.
“It hurts a little.” He laughed, a slight, tight noise in his throat, nearly drowned out by the shower.
Dean crawled into bed with Sam, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his forehead, protective and needy. Dad had his reasons, but Dean just wished he would have been gentler with Sam—even if Dean liked the show.
“I’m sorry he was rough, Sammy.”
Sam nestled his face into Dean’s throat, and his nerves caught fire at the sensation of his swollen, pretty lips grazing his skin. Dean wanted to tip his head back and kiss him, to stare at Sam’s face, to see just how happy he made his little brother, his baby, his Sammy.
Dean wrapped himself around Sam like a boa constrictor, tangling himself with his every limb until it became impossible for Sam to move on his own. It seemed that he didn’t mind, either, the way he went slack in Dean’s grip and returned to sleep like he’d never been woken at all. Dean felt warm and satisfied when the shower turned off and Dad came back into the room, his presence strong enough to cast a dark shadow behind Dean’s eyelids.
—
John shouldn’t have allowed it. He wouldn’t have allowed it if Sam was a girl, but some part of him felt it was worse, the way Dean fixated on his little brother. Sam couldn’t get knocked up, but there was something wrong about the way Dean turned into a sissy around Sam. John could only hope he’d find a girl soon enough and get his hands off of his little brother.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words managed to come out.
—
Dad stood there for what must have been five minutes, hovering over his boys before his footsteps receded and finally disappeared out the door. Anxiety flooded out of Dean once he heard the door shut, and he knew that it was just the two of them again, as it always had been and always should be.
Six years later, and Dean didn’t give a shit anymore that Sammy wasn’t a girl.
“Mine,” Dean moaned against Sam’s wet cunt, “you’re all mine, Sammy.”
Sam arched his back and panted, bathed in a hot, pink haze. His fingers scrambled, finding purchase in the folds of the sheets and digging into the creaky mattress. With every flick of Dean’s practiced yet overzealous tongue, Sam gasped and twitched, wordlessly begging for more, more more more stimulation until he was brought over the edge once again.
He already came twice, his thighs trembling and his cunt clenching tightly as he leaked Dean’s lifeblood—how his body had functioned for twenty-six years without it, he didn’t know, but he’d never felt more invigorated than when he’d just finished eating out his baby brother.
“Dean.” Sam tipped his head back and exposed his throat to the ceiling, moaning so softly it sounded like the motel settling on its foundation. Rapturous, but known only to them.
His unoccupied fingers knotted into Dean’s cropped hair, his nails digging into his scalp and making him grunt like some feral animal rutting into its mate. Dean’s tongue fucked into Sam’s soaked hole, begging for penetration from something bigger, thicker, even hotter and wetter if the steaming tent in his pants was anything to go off of. Dean tightening his grip on the undersides of Sam’s thighs and spread his legs apart, diving into his hairy cunt. It was natural, it was right, it was exactly where Dean was supposed to be—worshipping his brother like a god.
No matter the voice in the back of his mind, the one that sounded like Dad, calling him a fag for having eyes for his brother only, he didn’t want anything more than to fuck Sammy raw in whatever way he wanted. To care for his baby brother in a way that only he could.