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Summary:

It was either he fucked one of these three people or he died. Easy, right? Unfortunately for him, one of them was his father, the second one was a poor, innocent victim, and the other one was the big brother for whom he had feelings he didn't want to think about.

Notes:

Okay so this was a heat of the moment idea and I don't know how well I've executed it but it is what it is. Enjoy!

Just something I feel the need to add up: although this is tagged as mildly dubious consent, that's because of the fuck or die trope that occurs in here. I'd like to say that anything sexual in this story is one hundred percent consensual due to the fact that both boys have been attracted to each other prior to the witch's curse.

Dean is 20, Sam is 16.

Work Text:

If you were unsure whether this was a typical Winchester hunt, this would've been enough to help you decide. Currently, the situation found the youngest Winchester in a predicament he didn't think possible prior to that moment. Don't get him wrong, he knew the hunts he and his family were taking upon them to resolve were dangerous and had a potential to turn deadly if you weren't one hundred percent with your head in the game, but you can't possibly fault him for being a little reckless, right? Sam sighed, thinking of all the ways he could've spent the night other than being tied up to a chair in the middle of a wet basement with nothing to keep him company other than the sobs of the one girl they were trying to rescue.

He had tried to struggle against the bonds that were keeping him in place but his efforts had been futile. He wouldn't get out of there anytime soon. He silently sent a prayer up to the skies in hopes someone up there would pass his message onto his brother and father, although he knew it wasn't just impossible, but utterly childish.

"Mmmm..." The girl's suddenly terrified gasp made Sam snap his head toward the cause of the sound reverberating in the dark room. High heels. He almost rolled his eyes but was too occupied trying so shush Lydia. It wouldn't do her any good to show weakness. He had learned that the hard way.

The witch made her way in the space between their chairs, assessing them with a cold and calculating look. "My, my, look who's awake." She chuckled like she'd just told them the most hilarious joke in the world. "I assume the spell didn't start wreaking havoc yet, considering your vicious stare."

Sam didn't find any of it funny. He could only comfort himself with thoughts of what he would to her was he unbound. That's when something else she said registered in his mind. "Curse?" He raised an eyebrow, appearing way calmer than he felt. "What curse?" He almost spat the words in her face.

"And this is it: the million-dollar question. Hm..." She swept her gaze slowly over him, maddeningly, like she was enjoying his uncomfortable posture. "I think we should wait for that reveal." The witch seemed to come to some sort of sick conclusion. "Your father and brother should be here, after all. They are going to love this." She smacked her lips together and switched her attention to Lydia who has gone pale and looked about ready to faint.

"Oh... Look at you, dear." The witch tsked and lifted the girl's chin with one of her manicured fingertips. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you."

"Please... Please... I'll do anything, give you anything you want, but please don't hurt me." Lydia started to sob and her heavy cries made Sam close his eyes in anguish. Wasn't their job to save helpless people like her? How come he ended up being the one in need of saving? His blood boiled with anger and...

And with something entirely unfamiliar.

"Now don't be like that. I'll let you live. Just... I need you for something else first."

Sam's breathing changed suddenly like he had been running a marathon for the past three hours. He gasped forcefully, trying to pinpoint the exact cause for this change. His mind was working overtime with possibilities and each one was worse than the last one. He took a deep breath but the feeling only intensified, making him dizzy. His head was spinning and his breathing has gone erratic. He felt hot and cold at the same time and he snapped his head in the direction of the witch. He wanted to open his mouth and yell at her, make her reverse whatever she did to him but his mouth felt like cotton and he couldn't get any words out.

He had to have made some sort of pathetic noise 'cause the witch turned her attention on him with an ecstatic look of pleasure on her face. "It's working."

"What's wrong with him?" Lydia sounded worried and it made him think that maybe he should be worried too but the way he was feeling quickly became his only focus, overriding any other senses. "Sam!"

Through the haze in his mind, he could faintly hear noises upstairs, broken glass and kicked furniture, and think that maybe he would be okay after all. Dean has come for him. The thought made him smile. Count on Dean to always save his ass. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to fucking do something other than feeling like the world was going to end if he didn't come right then and there. And oh god, was this a freakin' sex spell? He would've groaned if not for the moan that wanted to tear itself past his lips. Thoughts of Dean didn't help in that particular field... It just made it worse.

The door to the basement was kicked open, torn from its hinges, his brother appearing in front of him like a dark angel sent to absolve him of his sins and help him commit new ones.

"Fuckin' bitch." He didn't know who said it, the focus of his attention currently composed of Dean's hands on his cheeks, checking to see he was okay.

"Sam?! Sammy!" Dean's frantic voice was like honey to his ears and it made him groan, achingly hard in his pants. What was wrong with him? Dean... He can't know. "Hey, I'm right here. It's me, Sam." Dean was pawing at his chest, looking for any obvious wounds he should know about, breathing a little easier when he didn't find one. "I'm gonna kill her." He growled, his hands leaving Sam for a second, making him feel cold and dreadful, needing his brother to keep touching him, to make it better.

"Dee..." He barely got the word out and he reached for Dean before he could stop himself, not stopping to think about what he was doing. "Please..." He didn't know what he was pleading for but just that he needed Dean more than ever. He was the only one who could make it go away. This prickling sensation running down his spine.

Dean had his gun out, steadily trained on the witch, but he was also keeping an eye on Sam, ready to assist him at any given hint something was wrong. "What did you do to him?" The witch continued to stare at them with a look of pure bliss on her face, not paying any mind to the two trained hunters aiming their guns at her head. "ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!" Dean screamed and it seemingly worked its purpose because it made the witch flinch and turn her gaze toward him.

"This is going to be so much fun!" She smiled and raised her hands in mock surrender. "You don't even realize, do you? You're not gonna kill me." She said it confidently, like she was just describing the weather. "Not if you wanna know how to fix your precious brother."

The witch smirked and Dean gripped the gun tighter, forcing himself not to shoot her right then between the eyes for what she has done to his baby brother. He blew out a breath and threw a gaze in his father's direction. He had a look of pure concentration on his face and Dean silently wondered how he could remain so calm when he felt broken, torn apart, furious at the fact that the other half of him was tied to a chair and made to endure pain that wasn't meant for him and ready to kill everything that dared to even breathe in Sam's direction.

It took everything in him not to pull his brother into his arms and never let go.

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked John, pistol trained on her, his grip steady and secure, no emotion betraying his cool exterior.

"It means..." she paused for dramatic effect like they were in a fucking movie. Dean wanted to rip her in two. "Sam's under a spell right now. Oh, don't look at me like that. It was only an experiment, not my fault that it worked. Oh, well..."

"What experiment?" Dean was hanging on to the last thread of his patience. Sam made a noise from behind him and Dean immediately turned toward him, dropping to his knees beside him and saying to hell with everything. Sammy needed him. "Where is it hurting? Sam! Hey. Please, focus for me." Dean took his face in his hands, struggling to look him in the eyes but they were glazed over and hazy and Dean felt about two seconds away from committing murder.

"E-Everywhere." Sam stuttered and Dean's heart broke for him. He felt tears stinging behind his eyelids and he fought to not let them spill. He had to be the strong one.

"And it's not going to stop," the witch intervened. "Until it kills him, of course." She smirked. "Let me guess, now you wanna know how to break the spell. Well, it's simple. He has to have sex." She shrugged like it should've been obvious.

John eyed her over the barrel of his gun. "That's it? No catch?" You could hear the incredulity in his voice.

"Hmm... might be a little catch." She looked over to Lydia and winked as if she was playing the most interesting game in the world. "I designed this spell myself as you might've guessed by now. I wanted to see if it works. Your son is now my perfect experiment. He has to fuck one of you," he pointed at the three people in the room beside her, "in the next 24 hours or he'll die."

"What?!" Dean asked, incredulous, thinking he had to have heard wrong.

"He's free to choose, of course. But it has to be one of you."

"Alright, I'm sick of these games. You either tell us the truth or you die." Dean got to his feet, in three strides grabbing hold of her and placing the barrel of his gun against her temple. She faltered slightly but recovered quickly, one corner of her mouth lifting up to let Dean know it wasn't going to be that easy to break her confidence. Dean quietly thought she didn't know who she had had the misfortune to mess with.

"That's the truth, moron. You either accept it or you don't."

"I don't believe you. No..." His terrified expression told her more than words could ever have.

"Oh... this hurts you as much as it hurts him. You're close, you and your brother. I see... I'd tell you I'm sorry, but you know. I'm not."

The sound of a gunshot going out made everyone flinch and turn their heads toward John. The part of the ceiling he shot was slowly crumbling but he didn't seem to care. "That's enough. We don't chat with monsters." He snatched Dean's sleeve and brought him stumbling behind himself, pointing his gun at her head and firing three bullets at once, not even blinking as they made contact with her and scattered her brains on the walls. Blood was pouring from her corpse onto the pavement, her incredulous expression the last thing they got to see before the light left her eyes.

A twisted part of Dean was disappointed he didn't get to do it himself. He would've made her suffer for what she did to Sam.

Lydia's scream echoed around the room worse than the gunshot, John's attention snapping to her in an instant. He put the gun back in his back pocket and practically ran at her side to undo her bindings. Dean could only stare, wondering what kind of parent went to make sure someone else was safe while his own son was suffering and in need of help. He shook himself slightly and thought that someone did put Sam's wellbeing first and foremost. Him. Sam will always be HIS priority.

Sam was heavily panting, his eyes downcast, seemingly in his own world, but the moment Dean's hands touched Sam's damp cheeks (when did he start crying?) his eyes snapped open and looked Dean straight in the eyes. His pupils were dilated and Dean was sure if he looked down, Sam would be hard. He resolutely made himself keep his eyes on his brother's face, not daring to cross that line just yet. They would figure everything out later. Now he just had to get Sam out of this fucking cold and dark basement.

"Dean... I need...." Sam almost sobbed the words out. The pain in his body only subsided if he was touched. He needed to be touched. He craved it. Or maybe he just craved Dean's touch. Like always. Sam shook his head as if to clear it.

"Shh, shh. I know. Everything's gonna be fine. I'm here now. Not gonna let anything happen to you, Sammy." Dean passed his hands through Sam's hair, mostly to soothe him and take away some of his pain. He hated seeing Sam like that. It was his fault. He should've been there to protect him... He closed his eyes tightly and breathed deeply when Sam angled his face to lean toward Dean's hands, seeking comfort from the only person who always gave it to him.

"Take me out of here, Dean." A little of his strength had returned to him thanks to his brother's touch. He was aware it wasn't a permanent remedy and the spell would hit harder in a couple of hours but for now, it was enough.

Dean smiled faintly and went to cut the ropes holding his brother hostage. After he untied him, he put an arm around his waist, lifting him up as gently as he could, careful to keep touching him. He didn't know a lot about this type of curses, but he knew enough to be sure touch was necessary. Before he could change his mind, he listened to his instinct and picked Sam up bridal-style, putting his arms around his neck and letting his head fall on his shoulder.

Sam seemed to relax even more in his embrace, for a little while feeling safe and sound in his brother's arms. He knew Dean wouldn't let any harm come to him. Dean turned to look at their father who helped Lydia stand and was gazing at them with a funny expression on his face. He didn't say anything about their current position, but Dean knew it irked him to see them like that. For once he didn't care what Dad thought. Let him take care of Lydia. He's got Sam. He was aware they had a lot of things to consider, but just let him pretend for a while it could all work out. With a final glance at the two of them, Dean turned on his heels and made his way out the door and to the Impala.

He loaded Sam in the backseat and climbed in after him, pulling him in his lap so he could rest his head on Dean's chest. John side-eyed them and guided Lydia with a hand on the small of her back to the passenger seat. The ride to the motel was filled with a kind of tense silence, only once in a while broken by Sam's futile attempts at hiding his pain. Dean worried that the curse was building up too soon, that they should've at least gotten a couple of hours before it became too much for Sam to bear. John was glancing at them from the corner of his eye, slightly tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Lydia was silent as a ghost and she kept her eyes firmly trained on the road, fiddling with a loose thread on her pants.

Once they got back to the motel, John pulled the car in the parking lot and turned to them with a determined look on his face. He avoided meeting Dean's stare headfirst.

"Lydia, I know this is a lot for you," he started and took a deep breath before continuing. "But I'm gonna have to ask you to stay with us for just a little while before we fix everything. We... uhm... Sam needs..." He couldn't bring himself to continue.

Dean couldn't believe his ears. He suddenly figured out exactly why John took such an interest in this girl. He wanted to push her on Sam.

"Dad!" Dean started, but John raised his hand and silenced him without as much as a word.

He climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind himself, and opened the passenger door for Lydia who looked even more scared and confused than before. "I don't think..." She began, but a look in John's direction shut her up faster than a slap might have.

She quietly trailed after him, throwing a quick glance in Sam's direction who was still sitting perched in Dean's lap. Dean closed his eyes and counted to ten in his head, his hand working to massage Sam's back, trying to bring him a little bit of comfort. He didn't know why the idea of his brother with this unknown girl in bed bothered him so much but now wasn't the time to analyze his feelings.

Upon entering the motel room ten minutes later, he found John with a bottle of Jack in his hands at the mahogany table near the window and Lydia seated awkwardly on the edge of one of the beds. She seemed spooked but afraid to comment. Dean couldn't blame her. Sometimes his father scared him too. Especially after a couple of beers.

He put Sam down and heard his silent whimper and he clutched at his waist, not willing to let go. Dean could feel his erection pocking at his legs and had to concentrate so hard on not doing something he would come to regret. Sam moaned, unabashedly beginning to rut against him and Dean bit his lip and willed himself to not react to his brother's close proximity. But he didn't try to stop him nonetheless.

John turned his cold gaze on them and noticed Sam's actions, his demeanor becoming even more closed-off than before. He stood up and caught Sam's arm in a bruising grip, pulling him forcefully away from his brother. Sam struggled against his father's ministrations, the pain returning in full force, taking over his whole body. He felt hot and aroused and he knew that wasn't normal, but he couldn't help himself. He needed... Not this, obviously. "Dad... please, don't. Fuck!"

"Dad!" Dean lounged himself at John to snatch Sam from his arms and bring him back to Dean. "You're hurting him. Just let him go!"

"He's not in his right mind, Dean. Can't you see? The need to fuck is the only thing in his mind right now. Our presence is only making it worse for him. And you spoiling him is not doing him any good."

"Spoiling him? I'm taking care of him, Dad. Which I can't say the same about you." Dean said before he could stop himself. He was playing with fire, he was aware of that. But his brother's life was on the line, so sue him but he didn't care about anything else.

"This isn't about me. As soon as we get it over with, we can put everything behind us for good. He needs to get laid, Dean. Do you understand? Or he'll die." He said it with finality, meeting Dean's forceful stare with a serious one of his own. "We can argue 'till morning comes, but it won't help him."

"You think I don't know that? I've heard what the bitch said."

"Then what do you propose we do?"

Dean swallowed back the words that wanted to surface and bit his tongue to keep from cursing his father out loud.

"I thought so! Now, she said one of us has to sleep with him. That's where Lydia comes into play." John swept his gaze over the girl's form, making her shrink back from him. "It's the only solution."

No. It wasn't. But Dean couldn't say that.

Good thing Sam did.

"She said I can choose. I heard her." He pushed the words out through the haze in his mind, looking pointedly at his brother. "I want to choose."

John's mouth hung open, staring incredulously at his youngest son. "What?"

Dean let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and met Sam's gaze. The intensity he found there did strange things to his composure and he had to fight not to squirm under his brother's stare. His breathing changed substantially, making him sweat and his mind dizzy with all the possible meanings of Sam's words. Every thought Dean has tried to repress over the past two years suddenly rushed to his mind, filling him with all sorts of ideas. Dean's weakness had always been Sam and it showed right then and there. If they were alone he would've had Sam naked and begging under him in under ten minutes. And wasn't that the problem? How fucked up can you be to take advantage of your brother's condition to fulfill your own sick needs? But Dean Winchester was only human after all. He knew he couldn't fight and hide how he felt about Sam forever. He just hadn't thought it would come to the light in this particular manner.

And he never thought Sam might feel the same way.

"I said I want to choose." Sam pulled his arm out of John's grip and stumbled back to his brother. He almost face-planted on the floor, his feet like jell-O, but Dean caught him effortlessly in his arms, steadying him before he could fall. Sam smiled easily and touched his brother's forearm, fluttering his eyelashes at him like a two-dollar whore but damn if it didn't make Dean's insides churn pleasantly.

"No, you can't. You're not yourself, Sammy! You don't know what you're saying." John pointed out, trying to remain calm in the face of such nonsense. He couldn't believe his son's words. He didn't even want to consider them.

"It's Sam. And I know exactly what I'm saying. I may be under some fucked up spell but I know what I want. What I've always wanted."

"Sam!"

"Can you listen to me for once in your life, Dad? The witch said I need to have sex with one of you but don't you find it at least a little bit weird that the only person I'm attracted to is Dean?" Silence filled the room, neither willing to break it in fear of shattering the fragile cocoon they have created. "Have you ever considered it might be because I was already attracted to him?"

"Shut up, Sam! I don't wanna hear this nonsense. You're going to sleep with this girl and we'll forget it ever happened, am I clear?"

"With all due respect, sir," Sam mockingly said. "but I have no desire to sleep with her. You can't make me." He appeared way braver than he actually felt, but he had to fight for what he wanted or else it would be ripped from him. He had to stand up and take charge of his own life.

He turned in Dean's arms and placed a hand on his warm cheek, watching how his brother closed his eyes and leaned into him. He couldn't suppress the shiver that rocked him and he knew the curse would soon take over his mind and he needed this to happen while he could still make sure his brother wanted this too.

"That is if you want me."

Dean's arms encircled his waist and he leaned his forehead against his. He was aware of the feelings battling inside his brother. The need to obey his father, the desire to protect his brother, the thought he would be taking advantage of him.

"I want this, Dean. I- I never thought it would happen this way but I've always dreamt you would want me too and maybe we could-" He closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. "This is not the curse talking. It's me. Your baby brother. The baby brother who's in love with you."

That seemed to be last straw and Dean's fragile defenses broke. He took Sam's face in his hands and smashed his lips roughly to his brother's, uncaring his father and some girl were watching them. He fucking devoured his mouth, wanting to leave his lips red and swollen, wanting his mark all over his baby brother. A powerful gasp forced him to tear himself away from his brother, Sam chasing his mouth and growling low in his throat when he couldn't find it.

John had his fists clenched and his face was red with anger. He seemed two steps away from self-combusting and only some unknown force was still holding him together. Dean knew that if he unleashed his anger at them, they were truly and well fucked. He pushed himself in front of his brother, shielding him with his body. No matter what came their way, it had to go through him first.

"If you think I'm gonna accept this, then you're idiots. What the hell are you thinking?" John screamed, taking hold of the empty bottle of Jack and raising it in the air as if preparing to strike down.

Dean took a step back from his reach, pushing Sam behind him. He stared at their father wide-eyed in horror, ready to fight if necessary. Dean didn't think he would actually hurt them but he was willing to do anything to defend his brother. He just prayed it wouldn't come to that.

John seemed to realize what he was doing and he let the bottle fall from his hands and shatter to the floor in tiny sharp pieces. He put his head in his hands and fought back the sob lodged in his throat. He couldn't deal with this. It was too much for him...

"I'm -" He cleared his throat and avoided looking at his boys. He couldn't stand to see them right now. He stumbled a little and made his way to Lydia, grabbing her arm with enough force to bruise. "Guess we don't need you anymore. My boys think they can fix this mess themselves. Funny how he'd rather fuck his brother than fuck you, huh?" He let out a sad laugh.

"It has nothing to do with her, Dad. If you can't accept that at least don't make her feel worse than she already does." Sam huffed, at the end of his rope. "It's not her fault you can't see what's right in front of you."

"Watch your tone, kid! Last I checked you are under my care."

"Your care? Don't you mean Dean's care? Or are you taking credit for something you never did now? See? I'm still myself enough to remember, Dad." Sam chuckled humourlessly and Dean threw him a glance that warned him not to make their situation worse.

John's nostrils flared but he didn't say anything more. He just pulled on Lydia's arms and dragged her to the door. After putting on his leather jacket, he opened the door and pushed her outside in the chilly winter air, looking at them with a disgusted gaze meant to make them quiver before slamming the door in their face with a snarl, "You and I will have a little chat after I take this girl home. She doesn't deserve to see this - this debauchery."

Both of them flinched and turned their heads to look at each other. Now they were alone, it seemed they didn't know what to do, how they should behave with their raw emotions out there in the open. Before Sam could say anything, Dean took a step forward and placed his hands on his slim hips, looking in his eyes with so much devotion and conviction that it made Sam feel uncomfortable for a moment.

"Did you mean it?" He asked earnestly and Sam nodded without hesitation. He caught Dean's hand in his own and brought it to his cheek in a silent gesture of go-ahead-take-what-you-want-from-me.

Dean gently caressed his cheek and Sam closed his eyes and leaned into his touch like a little kid. He couldn't believe he was about to be given everything he's dreamt about and never thought he would get.

That's when the spell hit him so hard that it made him lose his balance for a second and his knees buckle. He knew the foreplay was over. And he didn't mind one bit.

He backed Dean over to the nearest bed, his knees hitting the edge of it and making him fall on his ass before he recovered his footing. Dean's confusion didn't take long to be erased though. He had known the curse would soon take over and he was prepared for it.

Or he thought so.

Dean's mouth went dry at the sight that greeted him when he raised his eyes to his brother's body. Sam had his back to him and he was wriggling his hips seductively to skimmy out of his jeans. He hooked his thumbs inside his pants and in one swift motion they were falling off his long legs and he stepped out of them, his back still to Dean. Dean followed the entire length of his brother's legs with his eyes and he couldn't help but imagine how they might look like, feel like wrapped around his hips while he was buried deep inside his brother's body.

He snapped his eyes back to Sam's face, or rather the back of his head and noticed the flush spreading over his neck. His sweet little brother was ashamed but at the same time turned on by the show he was putting on for his own brother. Dean licked his lips and leaned back on his haunches, waiting to see Sam's next move. He fought hard not to palm at the growing bulge in his jeans and just watched fascinated this side of Sam that he hadn't yet experienced.

Sam teased him by dropping his hands to the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it up just a fraction, exposing milky white skin and a defined back that Dean was dying to just taste with his tongue. He would worship every inch of that gorgeous skin if Sam let him. His hands were itching to touch him but he wanted to do this Sam's way. He wanted to give his brother that. This wasn't about Dean.

If you told Sam a week ago that he would strip for his brother, he would've laughed in your face and told you to get lost. But now, the only thing he could do was try not to lose his mind over how good that felt. Dean's appreciative eyes running over his skin, the way he could hear his brother's breathing go erratic with arousal. He pulled the t-shirt over his head in one quick motion and just stood there for a second, clad only in boxers, with his back to Dean and tried to slow his racing heart but it was of no use. The curse wanted something and god help him, but Sam wanted it too. He wanted Dean.

He turned to face Dean and when he dropped his eyes to Dean's crotch he noticed the big cock pocking at the front of his brother's jeans. He quickly looked back up at Dean's face and saw Dean taking in every inch of his body with a feral look in his eyes, almost predatory, and he shivered, another wave of pleasure hitting him at once. He felt dizzy stalking up to his brother and dropping to his knees in front of him. He heard Dean's surprised intake of breath and he smirked, his hands flying up to palm at Dean's erection through his jeans.

"Dammit, Sammy, who knew you were such a tease?" Dean's hands fisted in his hair, making his dick twitch in anticipation. He wanted to take his time, to make it good for both of them, but they'll do it slow and gentle next time. Now neither of them had the patience for that.

Sam dove his face in between his brother's thighs and mouthed at his cloth-covered dick, the heat and wetness of his mouth only serving to make Dean buck his hips forward, chasing the sensation of Sam's mouth on him.

"Are you gonna let me fuck your mouth, baby? Just use you for my own pleasure?" Dean said breathless, closing his eyes in bliss. He wanted more but also he didn't want to rush Sam. It was his first time and if Sam said no, he wasn't going to insist. He wanted it to be pleasurable for him. He wanted his brother to feel good, like always.

"Yes, Dee! Fuck, yes! Just take what you want. I want you to." Sam assured him earnestly, still nosing at his hard length.

"Are you sure?" And Sam could only nod because of course he was sure. That seemed to snap Dean out of his stupor and he pulled on Sam's hair, lifting his face from his groin just high enough so he could unzip his jeans and take his cock out. Dean moaned in sweet relief. It bobbed hard and leaking in front of Sam's face and Dean guided his dick to Sam's lips, forcing him to mouth at the head. Sam stuck his tongue out and started lapping at it, making Dean see stars from how good it felt.

"Suck it, baby boy. Do you wanna suck your big brother off?"

Sam moaned and Dean shoved his face in his groin. Sam took the head in his mouth and started suckling at it, swirling his tongue at the slit in a way that was making Dean almost incoherent with pleasure.

"Such a good cockslut for me, Sam. Fuck, just take it. You were made for this, don't you?" And that seemed to encourage Sam in his actions because next thing he knew, Sam took his entire length in his mouth and started bobbing his head up and down his shaft and Dean just couldn't hold it back anymore and drove his hips upward into Sam's willing mouth, almost choking him with the force of his thrusts. He fucked his mouth hard and fast, almost brutal, and Sam loved every second of it. He could feel him rutting against the carpet and moaning like a whore, sending vibrations up Dean's dick.

Dean held his head in place while he chased his own pleasure and used his mouth the way he has always imagined doing. He was sure it wouldn't take long for guilt to settle in the pit of his stomach so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Sam almost gagged but the was savoring every moment of this. He loved the fact Dean was powerful enough to just hold him down and take what he wanted from him. He loved the sensations in his body and how his blood boiled with pleasure. The fire in his veins was something he never thought he would get to experience. He never thought he would get Dean like this. He sneaked a hand down and gripped his own cock in his fist, kicking his boxer briefs off and jerking himself fast in time with Dean's thrusts. He moaned around Dean's dick and he heard him make a sound akin to a whimper.

Dean groaned and pulled out, afraid he would come too fast. Sam's mouth felt like heaven and any other blowjobs he's had paled in comparison to Sam. Fuck, he never wanted to lose this now that he had it.

He pulled Sam up in his lap by his arms and claimed his mouth in a hard, bruising and unforgiving kiss. Sam responded in kind, wrapping his arms around his neck and just giving him everything. His little brother was grinding down on him and Dean sneaked an arm around his back, taking hold of his neck and tilting his head up. He started to place kisses on his brother's damp skin, paying special attention to his collarbone. He bit down hard on his neck, soothing the skin with a sweet kiss and licking over it. He felt as if he claimed Sam, like that gesture in itself formed a mark of ownership. Sam didn't mind by the way he was shamelessly stroking his hard cock, needing to come so badly.

"Dean... please. I need to- to c-come... Fuck, it hurts. Please, just make it better. I need you. I - Aaaahh." He moaned when Dean wrapped his fist around his cock, starting to jack him off slowly.

"Don't worry, Sam. I got you." Dean whispered huskily in his ear and Sam whimpered at the tone, at the feel of Dean's strong arms around him.

Next thing he knew he'd been flipped over onto his back on the bed and Dean's strong weight was pinning him down on the mattress, making him arch his back and chase the pleasure of his hands on his clammy skin. He needed something - anything. He felt like he might die if he didn't get it. Oh, well...

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll feel me for days, little brother. You won't ever want anyone else."

"Only you, Dean. Always." He didn't know where the strength to answer was coming from but he needed his brother to know. It was only ever him. Just Dean. No one else for Sam.

Dean closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Sam's flat belly, taking a deep breath. Fuck, the love he had for this kid. Sometimes he felt like it might burn him alive. And he would welcome it. If he went to hell for this, then it was worth it. He would burn for Sam anyway.

He kissed down over Sam's body and when he reached that firm, round ass he's always admired from afar he spread his cheeks apart and prodded a finger at his rim, not pressing in just yet.

The sudden sensation startled Sam and he moaned loudly, not caring who might hear them. He was past caring. "Dean - Fuck me, I can take it, just fuck me."

"Look at this greedy little hole, Sammy. You're so eager to take my fat cock, aren't you? You want it to split you open, isn't that right?" Dean chuckled, trying to ignore the insistent throb of his own dick hanging full and ready between his legs. He rummaged through his bedside drawer until he found what he was looking for and coated two of his fingers with lube. Sam startled at the coldness of it gently pressing at his rim but he relaxed immediately, trusting Dean to take care of him.

"Such a good boy for me, Sammy. Just letting me do this to you. Letting me be your first."

He breached him with a finger and Sam gasped, the burn fleeting in the face of his pleasure. He used to finger himself open in the shower while Dean was sleeping in the other room. He used to picture it was Dean's cock penetrating him hard and fast against the shower stall. So he knew he could take it. He started pushing back on Dean's finger, impatient and beyond ready to be fucked senseless.

"Eager much?" Dean laughed, full and happy and it was the best sound Sam has ever heard. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He mewled, needy and out of his mind with pleasure, fucking himself back on Dean's finger.

One finger became two and two became three and soon Dean had him flipped over on his belly, ass up in the air and humping a pillow while he slicked up his leaking dick. He fisted it a couple of time just taking in the view of his brother all spread out for him, ready to be taken and swallowed audibly. The head of his cock was nearly purple and he needed to come so badly but fuck, Sam made such a beautiful sight. He looked so young and doubts started to creep into Dean's mind, making him wonder what the hell he was doing. Was Sam going to hate him for this when it was over?

"D-Dean..." Through the haze in his mind, Sam turned his head toward Dean and tried to convey just how much he wanted this. He knew Dean. Knew he was beating himself up over this and felt guilty for enjoying it, so Sam had to make him see it wasn't just him. They were in this together. If only his voice didn't betray him. The spell was getting too much to bear. He didn't have much time. He needed Dean and he needed him now.

"Look at me," he forced the words past his lips, past the spell clogging this throat. "Don't - don't think you're the only one feeling like this. Do you have any idea how many times I've thought there was something wrong with me for wanting you like that? I felt guilty and sick and perverted and maybe I am, but -"

"No, Sam, stop. You're not. You're innocent and sweet and you could never be wrong. You're the purest thing in my life."

"Then you're not either, Dean. I need you to let go and fuck me like you mean it! I-" Sam groaned, pain overtaking his senses because the curse wouldn't stop. pocking. at. him.

Dean grabbed onto his hips, letting go of his reservations for the moment, his protective big brother side needing to make sure Sam was taken care of. And who was better at taking care of Sam than Dean?

"You want me, baby brother? You have me!"

And he slammed forward, burying himself inside Sam in one swift motion. He bottomed out and started pistoning his hips, knocking the breath right out of Sam. He could only hold on for the ride and he feared he would come too soon. Dean pulled out and then drove his cock back inside, setting a merciless pace and Sam just took it, fucking his ass back into Dean's dick and moaning wantonly. "Fuck, yeah, baby bro, let them hear you. Fucking scream my name!" He accentuated his words with every thrust and Sam's eyes rolled back in his head when Dean found his prostate and kept on hitting it repeatedly.

"D-Deeean... Aaaah!" He screamed, fisting his hands in the sheets and trying so hard to keep breathing through the pleasure he was feeling. Dean caressed his back, fucking into him fast and Sam could feel him driving his cock deep inside.

"You're gorgeous. Fuck, the most beautiful sight I've set my eyes on. How could I ever resist you?" He punctuated every word with another slam of his hips and he smacked Sam's ass once, making him yelp and arch his back into his touch. He craved Dean's roughness and Dean craved him. They were a match made in heaven you might say. Heaven didn't have anything to do with this though.

Sam was rutting hard on the pillow, so close to coming when Dean flipped them over so he was on his back with Sam sitting on his lap. He wrapped his arms around his middle and pulled him down into a kiss while fucking him within an inch of his life. He was pistoning his hips upward, fucking him roughly and nailing his prostate every time.

"Fuck yourself on my cock, Sammy! Show me how much you're loving this. How much you enjoy spreading those long legs for your own brother."

"Mhmmmm...." Sam moaned and started to bounce up and down on Dean's dick, drawing all those noises he's come to need like air from his brother. He craved to just make him come apart for him, and although he was the one being fucked, he felt powerful because he was the one reducing his brother to this moaning mess.

Sam felt sweat gathering at the nape of his neck, the flush spreading down his back and his dick twitch and spurt precome like a fountain. He was so -

"Come for me, baby brother."

And that was it. He came all over his belly with a shout of Dean's name, some of his sticky come even landing on Dean's chin and wringing another loud moan from his lips. He came and came and he thought he wouldn't stop coming any time soon but the force of his orgasm subsided eventually, leaving him boneless and satiated and he fucking needed to make Dean fall apart for him. He clamped down on Dean's dick and tightened around him, making Dean throw his head back in pure ecstasy.

A second later he felt warmth seep into him and heard Dean's moan, "Sam. Sammy! Fuuuck!!". He smiled and fucked himself back on Dean's cock three times more, working him through his orgasm. "Mhm." Dean grabbed onto his ass cheeks and kneaded the round globes in his hands, thrusting lazily inside him until he went soft and slipped out of his fucked out hole. Sam tightened his inner muscles, trying to keep Dean's come inside. He felt marked, branded, used in a good way.

Dean surged upward and claimed Sam's mouth in a kiss filled with all the things he was scared to say aloud. This kiss was languid, unhurried, passionate and made both of them melt. Sam let himself go and landed in Dean's strong arms, knowing Dean will always catch him. Dean lay him on his back on the bed and peppered his face with kisses, drawing a chuckle out of him.

"Are you okay?" His voice was soft and loving and Sam reached out and touched his cheek, showing him how good he actually felt.

"I'm fine, Dean. I'm - The curse is gone, if that's what you mean. I feel normal."

"Thank God." Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "I was...", he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "kinda rough with you. I didn't mean to - "

"Dean, stop. If I didn't like it, I would've said something. Truth be told, I was turned on by it. Hah. Who would've known?"

Dean sighed and swept a hand through his hair. "Sammy..."

"Can we skip this part, Dean? I told you already, I wanted this. I chose you, Dean. You. I could've just followed Dad's orders and sleep with that girl," Sam heard Dean's growl at that and chuckled. "but I didn't. I don't know how to get it into your thick skull. I love you, Dean Winchester. How can I make it clearer than that?"

Dean smiled and his eyes twinkled alive with something Sam could recognize as joy. "I would've done the same, you know? I would've chosen you. You're the only one I trust. And... I know I don't say it often and damn this is turning into a chick flick the longer I talk, but fuck it... I love you too, Sam! I hope you know."

"I know. I've always known. You saved me..." Sam caressed Dean's cheek with his thumb and looked into his eyes like he was the one getting the sun to rise every morning.

"It's not like it was a hardship or anything," Dean crawled in between Sam's legs and settled himself on top of Sam, the two of them exchanging sweet, lazy kisses. "But you're welcome, I guess. I'll always save you, Sam. As long as I've got breath in me, you don't have to worry."

"What about... Dad?" Sam was almost scared to ask.

Dean sighed, dropping his head on Sam's shoulder and nuzzling his neck, wondering what was the responsible thing to do. The thing is, he knew what the responsible thing was. To stop this. Whatever they were doing. But he couldn't bring himself to. Was he selfish? Maybe. But didn't they deserve a little happiness too?

"I don't know." He admitted. "It's-"

"Hey! We'll figure it out. Together. Right?"

And he heard it for what it actually was, Sam's own insecurity shining through that question. It was their turning point. A point of no return. If he agreed, then they were doing it. One hundred percent in. They couldn't take it back.

"Yes. Together." He took Sam's hand in his and kissed his knuckles. Turning on his back, Sam snuggled into him and placed his head on his chest, closing his eyes and smiling because he understood Dean's answer loud and clear.

The two of them against the world.

When John returned to the motel sometime later he found his boys in one of the beds, sleeping snuggled together, naked, Dean's arm around Sam's waist and Sam's head on Dean's chest, breathing steadily. He threw a glance their way and could just imagine what happened here while he was gone. He shook his head, nauseous, and fought back the bile rising in his throat. He wanted to wake them up, to yell at them, scream until he knocked some sense into them.

He made a disgusted face and turned his gaze away, not bearing to look at them any longer. He took a quick shower and stumbled into bed face first, his head turned the other way.

In the morning, he pretended he didn't notice when they woke up and realized they fell asleep naked and John saw them, and turned a blind eye, ignoring their attempts at talking to him about this. He figured they'd get the hint.

They did.

It didn't stop them, though.

They did their thing, pretending Dad didn't know what went on behind his back, and John just kept on denying what was happening right in front of his eyes.

Dysfunctional? Yes.

But that's just how they worked.