TITLE: You’re Not the Only One
AUTHOR: Demona aka
PAIRING: Sam/Dean, Sam/OMC
WORD COUNT: 2,466
WARNINGS: Slash, Wincest
SUMMARY: Dean never realized daring Sam to get laid would have such consequences.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, the CW, etc. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
NOTES: Written for denisitap
for the spn_holidays
fic-a-thon on Livejournal. Prompt Chosen: Dean/Sam & Sam/OMC. Dean worried because Sam doesn’t have sex anymore. Then, one night that spark in Sam's eyes returns, the only problem is that the one who lit it is a forty year old MALE bartender. Dean world gets turned upside-down. (Wincest)
I hope you like this. I’m so sorry it took a few extra days to get it done, but it is now. Woot!
BETA: My fic-wifey: the lovely KaylaShay
. What, oh what, would I do without you?
The engine immediately began to ping and pop, cooling itself down as Dean slid out from behind the wheel. Sam was only half a second behind as he carefully closed the passenger door.
“Sam,” Dean called out, voice raised and loud to carry over the noise sliding out into the bar’s parking lot.
Sam turned in time to catch the motel key as it jingled through the air. He looked down at it and then back at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this? Planning on ditching me before you’ve even picked out one to go home with? Are you sure you won’t need this later?”
“You, little brother, need it more than me! How long has it been? And how long has it been since you spanked Little Sammy?”
“Enough Dean!” Sam shot back, fingers tightening around the key.
“I’m just saying – it ain’t natural. You need to get some, tonight Sammy. Find yourself a hot brunette and flash those dimples. She’ll be all over you.”
“Dean, I don’t need your help getting laid,” Sam argued.
“Doesn’t look that way.”
“I can get laid just fine on my own,” Sam retorted as they stopped just outside the entry door to the bar.
Dean let a satisfied smile slide onto his face. “Prove it Sammy, or you’ll be letting me pick out your next conquest.”
“I’m not betting on this Dean.” Sam was starting to get annoyed and increasingly frustrated.
“Afraid you’ll lose?” Dean taunted.
Sam let out an annoyed, long sigh before relenting and hanging his head in defeat. “Fine. I’ll find someone tonight.”
Dean clasped his hand on Sam’s shoulder and gave it a solid squeeze. “Atta boy!”
Sam was still in bed when Dean made his way back the next morning. Dave had left hours ago but Sam could still smell sex in the air. He pulled his arm over his eyes as the morning sun blinded him while Dean entered.
“Sam it smells like you’ve been jerking off in here all night. Sex with yourself isn’t the same as picking someone up,” Dean teased as he pushed the door shut.
Sam couldn’t help but chuckle as he let his arm fall back to the bed. “First you taunt me into having sex and then you mock me when I do,” Sam ground out.
Dean’s face appeared as he loomed over the bed. He studied Sam’s body, taking in the bite marks, his swollen lips, and the rumpled sheets. “Holy shit, Sam! You really did it!!” Dean’s voice was full of shock. He honestly couldn’t believe that Sam had a one night stand.
“How was your night?” Sam asked, changing the subject as he swung his legs out of bed and scrubbed his hand over his face.
Dean flopped down on his bed and let out a contented sigh. “Great Sam. Jesus, she was a wild cat,” he replied. And Sam watched as Dean scratched at his stomach, staring at the thin, exposed strip of flesh as his shirt rode up. “I’m sure she’d be more than happy to do you too, little brother,” Dean announced, raising his head just enough to leer at Sam before he let it flop back down.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Sam announced and headed into the bathroom.
Later they were back at the same bar and Dean was chatting up a whole table of girls while Sam parked himself at the bar.
“Does he know?” Dave asked him, getting Sam’s attention off of Dean in a hurry. Dave opened a beer and set it down in front of Sam with a wide smile.
“Know what?” Sam asked as his fingers closed around the cold bottle.
“How you feel about him?” Dave spelled it out with a nod over at Dean. Sam let his gaze settle back on Dean for a moment before shaking his head at Dave.
“More complicated than you know,” Sam explained.
“Well he has no idea what he’s missing. Definitely his loss,” Dave told Sam before he headed back off to tend to the other customers.
Dean realized as he was making his final pick for the night that Sam was no longer at the bar. He’d seen Sam chatting it up with the smoking hot brunette all right, but she was at the bar, laughing at another guy’s jokes and Sammy was gone. A quick scan of the room did not turn up his brother’s giant form.
He pushed his chair back from the table and the sudden harsh movement almost toppled it. The girls all looked at him kinda funny. “Excuse me ladies, I’ll be right back,” Dean muttered and headed up to the bar. He pushed his way to the front to speak with one of the girls working.
“Hey, I was wondering if you could help me?” Dean asked the petite blonde. She looked him over and offered him a smile. “Depends,” she answered, leaning forward toward him with a smile.
“I’m looking for my brother; he’s six and a half feet tall, overgrown brown hair. He was sitting up here until recently.”
“That’s him,” Dean answered.
“Oh he’s a cutie, lucky Dave. They headed out back. I’m sure they’ll be back in a few. Dave’s break is almost up anyway,” she explained. “Can I keep you entertained till you find your brother?” she added, with a lick of her lips.
Dean didn’t bother to answer. He just pushed his way through the crowd and toward the back exit. When he found Sam he was going to kill him for disappearing and causing Dean not to get laid.
Dean honestly never expected to walk out into the back alley and find his brother on his knees with the bartender’s dick sliding in and out of his mouth. The guy had his hands tangled in Sam’s hair, holding him tight, as the guy fucked his little brother’s mouth.
He yanked Sam back with one hand, and an angry tug on the back of his jacket. And he took a swing at the bartender with the other. Dean’s fist dipped the guy’s jaw and sent him stumbling to the ground.
“Dean! Dean!” Sam yelled and grabbed him from behind. Dean stopped his advance on the guy and looked back at Sam. His lips were red and swollen and his hair mussed and it bothered Dean so much.
“What the hell is going on here Sam?” Dean yelled.
Sam just frowned at him as he pushed past to help the guy to his feet. Dean watched as Sam picked him up and helped him put his clothes back. And then Sam took a look at the guy’s jaw. The guy was older than Sam – in his forties – but a decent looking dude. And he would have never pegged him for a guy that would take advantage of Sammy.
“What the hell is going on, Sam?” Dean yelled again.
“What does it look like Dean?” Sam yelled back, whirling to face him with his anger.
“Looks like that guy forced you, forced himself on you,” Dean answered.
Sam snorted and scrubbed a hand over his face. “He didn’t force me to do anything Dean. You told me to get laid. It was working until you interfered.”
“Last night?” Dean’s question came out weak as he looked at the guy and remembered the state he’d found Sam in this morning.
“Yeah,” Sam whispered, the anger gone from his body as well.
And for once Dean didn’t have a witty comeback or even a clue as to what to say. So he stuck to the Winchester code and said nothing as he walked away.
It haunted them for weeks afterwards. Dean never brought it up and quickly shot down all Sam’s attempts to discuss it. The uneasy tension continued to escalate and Dean knew the explosion just might break them both. In the end, it went as well as anything Sam and Dean had ever done, badly.
Dean had a few beers in him when Sam came back from the library. They were supposed to be hunting an angry, murdering spirit, but in the sweltering Georgia heat, Sam looked hot, too hot for Dean not to notice. So he’d knocked back a few while he waited for Sam to return; he waited and planned it out, and managed to justify the whole thing. And it never occurred to him that just because Sam liked boys it didn’t automatically mean that Sam would like Dean too.
He moved forward as soon as Sam shut the door. He advanced on him, eyes watching Sam carefully.
“Dean?” Sam asked as he tossed his bag in the chair next to the door. “What’s going on?”
Dean didn’t speak, just kept moving forward as Sam backed up against the door. And when Sam finally had no where to go Dean made his move. He leaned forward, pressing himself against Sam and kissed him. It wasn’t a stellar kiss; it was an awkward dry pressing of their lips together. Dean had never kissed anyone taller than him and the angle was all wrong.
Sam shoved him back with angry hands at his chest. He stumbled back a few steps, the distance growing by the inch. “What’re you doing Dean?” Sam quietly asked, not even able to yell. Dean moved forward to kiss him again but Sam sidestepped out of the way. “No, Dean. I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove but just quit it!” Sam’s voice was hard, anger just barely contained under the surface.
“You… I…” Dean stuttered out. “You like guys,” Dean finally got out.
“So you figured you’d do what needed to be done, take one for the team, and offer up yourself? Always protecting little Sammy,” Sam sneered at him.
“Not everything’s about you Sam,” Dean chose to answer instead as he backed away. He turned his back on Sam to pick up his beer and swallow down the cool liquid. “So, what’d you dig up?” he changed the subject.
When Sam didn’t answer immediately, he turned to look back at him. Sam remained near the door, glaring daggers at Dean.
“Figure it out for yourself. I’ll see you later,” Sam finally stated and yanked the door open.
“Sam!” Dean called out. “Sam!!” he yelled again, but it was too late as Sam slammed the door shut behind him, effectively ending the conversation.
Later that night Sam found Dean in the alley behind the bar next to the motel with a guy that bore a scarce resemblance to Sam. The guy had Dean pressed up against the wall, thigh wedged in between Dean’s, pressing their hips together, as he sucked a bruise on Dean’s neck.
Dean turned at the sound of the solid, metal door banging closed. His eyes widened at the sight of Sam stalking his way over toward them. “Uh-oh, we’re in trouble now. Trouble with a capital B for bitchface!” Dean slurred as Sam got closer.
The guy looked up at Dean and then followed his gaze over to Sam. Whatever he saw on Sam’s face had him taking a few steps back away from Dean, and raising his hands in the friendly sign of surrender.
“Go on,” Sam quietly told the guy.
“Sorry man, I didn’t know,” the guy apologized as he gave Sam a wide berth on his way back into the bar.
And Sam and Dean were left alone in the silence.
“What’re you doing, Dean?” Sam asked, carefully watching Dean for any facial expressions that would give away his motives.
“What’d it look like, Sam?” Dean questioned back with none of the slur he’d had earlier. Sam realized he must have been faking drunk before, but why would he have done that.
“I don’t get you Dean!” Sam yelled, his words echoing against the brick.
“You aren’t the only one,” Dean replied. “If I’d known my little brother liked dick I’d have taken us to different bars.”
“So you could taunt me? Fool around with guys when you’re straight?”
“You’re not the only one that likes dick every now and again, Sammy,” Dean spelled it out.
And Sam was shocked into complete silence over that statement. He’d never once suspected that Dean would possibly swing for the home team. But he had to keep moving forward or the moment would pass and he wasn’t sure they’d get another. “Including mine, Dean?” Sam had to ask, to make sure he wasn’t crazy in imagining this.
“Especially yours, Sammy,” Dean answered as he ran his tongue out over his lips.
And Sam nodded as he moved to press himself against Dean, forcing him back against the wall. He moved in slowly, waiting for Dean to call him off, to laugh in his face and break his heart. But it didn’t happen. Instead he kissed Dean, tasting the beer he’d been drinking earlier.
Dean’s hand came up, sliding into Sam’s hair as he held onto his head, not letting him go. Sam pulled back to breathe and nuzzled Dean’s head to the side. He moved down to where the guy had started a mark and bit down hard. Dean gasped and gave a hard, full body shudder at the display of possession from Sam.
“Gonna mark you so they’ll all know you’re mine,” Sam whispered against his neck as he licked over the mark.
Sam ground his hips against Dean’s and was pleased to feel how hard he was. The slow detailed uncovering of Dean’s body would have to wait until they were back in the motel, not in this alley. But he wanted Dean right now. Wanted to taste him, swallow him down.
Sam fell to his knees with more grace then he normally showed. Dean’s grip on his hair never let up, only eased to allow Sam’s movement, before it tightened again as Sam settled on his knees.
“Don’t tease Sam. I’m not going to last,” Dean urged him as he pushed on Sam’s head, drawing him toward his crotch.
“Plenty of time for that later,” Sam answered and gently bit at Dean’s jeans. Dean moaned and thrust forward into Sam’s mouth.
With one hand to steady Dean’s hips, he used the other to pull open Dean’s pants. He forced his hand inside, shoving the jeans aside and pulling down Dean’s boxer briefs. Dean’s dick was flushed red and shiny wet with precome. His own dick twitched in his jeans at the sight.
He reached out and licked the head, smearing around the precome as he tasted Dean for the first time. Dean’s grip in his hair turned painful as he pushed his dick against Sam’s lips.
“Sammy,” Dean’s wrecked voice begged.
And Sam was never very good at hearing his brother beg.