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Dean follows Sam into the bedroom of the shitty apartment they’re renting that week with shaky knees. Dean wishes he could blame the shakiness on the blowjob he just gave his brother against the kitchen table, but the blood pooled in his groin in anticipation of Sam’s promise is the more likely culprit.
Sam is naked from the waist down, and Dean admires his brother’s ass for one insane second before he’s overcome with the need to touch. Like a predator stalking his prey, Dean swiftly pins Sam up against the doorframe as his brother walks ahead of him, reaching two hands down to get his hands back on his brother’s ass—
“Dean,” Sammy gasps.
“Daddy,” Dean corrects, licking his way up Sammy’s neck to nip at his earlobe. His hands on his brother’s ass pull Sam flush against him. “Take off your shirt,” Dean orders.
“I—ah—I thought it was your turn,” Sammy whimpers.
“It’s my turn and I say take off your shirt,” Dean says, removing one hand to push impatiently on the offending garment. It’s a brief struggle, but then Sam is completely naked under Dean’s fully clothed form. “Your skin,” Dean practically moans, and he is not in his head enough to be ashamed by that. “Your goddamn motherfucking skin.” Dean runs his hands all over Sam and back to his asscheeks, where Dean is man enough to admit may be his new favorite part of Sam. That and his soft soft skin, all over him and available to touch, finer than any other material Dean has ever felt. It’s warm and Sam’s and belongs to Dean—
“Daddy, please,” Sam breathes. “Wanna do you now. It’s my turn.”
“Thought it was mine,” Dean says, finger probing up Sam’s crack to find his puckered asshole, slightly hairy.
“Dean, please, I have to. You’re being unfair.” It’s so little brother that Dean can feel the atoms in the air rearranging themselves just to fuck him up even more.
Dean finally allows Sam to yank off Dean’s shirt and start on his belt buckle despite Dean not stopping in his manual exploration of All Things Sammy. “Not my fault you’re so fucking beautiful. God, I wanna touch you forever.” Sam moans at that, allows Dean to grope him (allows Dean to worship him, memorize him, sink into him) for one more moment, but then he pushes on Dean to release him.
Dean allows himself to be pushed backward toward the bed, Sam’s hands on Dean’s arms leading him.
Dean lays back on the bed, nude as the day he was born, so hard, dick practically leaking with want. Sam straddles him, ducking down his head to examine Dean’s cock. Dean can only see part of his expression where his face is hidden under his fringe, but he stays still under Sam’s scrutiny, despite how self-conscious it makes Dean feel. “Only do what you want to,” Dean says. Sam finally glances up from where he was studying Dean’s dick like a science project, a gleam in his eye.
“I want to make you come, daddy,” Sam says, “with my mouth.”
Dean exhales, hips bucking slightly with a burst of arousal. Jesus. As Sam bends over Dean’s waist, Dean threads his fingers through Sammy’s hair gently, not urging him on, but connecting. God, Dean needs to touch this boy. But the promise of getting his dick sucked by Sam (oh, God, by Sammy) keeps him in place.
Dean is not prepared when Sam runs his tongue along him experimentally, base to tip. “Oh, Sammy,” Dean breathes.
“Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” Sam says. Dean shakes his head for one second before Sam’s mouth sinks hot and wet down Dean’s length. Dean moans deeply.
“Baby,” Dean gasps. “Oh, baby, you’re good. Fuck.” Sam hums, and Dean’s back arches slightly. Dean watches as Sam gains confidence in a rhythm, discovering how far down he can go before he chokes.
“You’re so good. Doing so well. My smart boy. Knew you could.” Dean doesn’t even know what he’s saying, but Sam reaches up a hand to run it over Dean’s chest, pinching his nipples harshly. “Daddy’s gonna come so fast. You’re doing so good.” Dean’s hand tightens on Sam’s hair on a particularly sensitive swipe of his tongue. His good boy’s tongue. Sammy looks so sweet and innocent even while sucking him off, and Dean can’t believe this is happening.
All of Dean’s dirtiest, most shameful thoughts are suddenly spilling out of him. “Look at you, sucking your daddy off like a good boy.” Sam moans desperately between his legs. “My good little boy. Daddy’s good little baby boy. Fucking. Fuck—ah—Sammy—gonna take my cum. Gonna take my goddamn fucking cum. Love you so much, my fucking good fucking baby—yes yes yes right there my good good fucking baby—“
Dean comes in waves, hand firm in Sammy’s hair, neck arched up while Sam’s fingers claw up Dean’s chest, scratching. The tight, hot, wet, baby brother cavern too much—too hot—and Dean’s dick pulses with a pleasure too hot and firm to be real—
“Yes,” Dean gasps, completely overwhelmed as he comes hot down Sammy’s throat. “Yes. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” The words come out of him involuntarily between pulses. Sammy.
Dean’s orgasm knocks him back against the pillows as it tapers off. He dimly registers Sammy nuzzling his way up his body, hand still clutched in Sam’s hair. He is panting, completely wiped out. He pulls Sammy in close, kisses him. Realizes he hasn’t kissed him in far too long. Rolls over and devours him.
This is the first time they have been naked together like this, and Dean revels in the feel of their sweaty skin slick against each other. Dean can’t believe Sam is real, can’t fathom how perfect this boy is for him, how he could be this lucky to have found his soul in this boy—
“My baby brother,” Dean whispers as the kisses soften. “Goddamn. My goddamn baby brother. Cocksucking champion of the universe.”
Sam snorts, kisses him again. “‘T was good?” Sam asks softly.
“My brain just melted out my ears, you little shit,” Dean accuses. “You’re so fucking sexy. Can’t believe you did that.” Sam blushes and tucks his head in Dean’s neck, and Dean can feel his heart flip over.
“I liked it. Like what you said,” Sam whispers.
“Yeah?” Dean asks. Sam nods. “You like when I tell you you’re my good baby?” Another nod.
“Wanna be good for you, daddy,” Sammy says. “All I wanna be.” Dean nuzzles Sam, kisses his forehead. His good boy.
Dean maneuvers them to shimmy the covers up over them. Pulls Sam back into his arms, letting their legs and arms entwine, letting their cocks burrow into each other.
“My good boy,” Dean praises, sinking into sin (Sam) itself.