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Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Dean's right hand
Length: 1,045 words
Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas, thevinegarworks and Steven. Picture me waving goodbye to another fannish line I Would Not Cross in the rearview mirror. All feedback, including critical commentary, is greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: Sam, Dean, and the concept of Supernatural belong to Kripke and the CW.
Warnings: Underage, incest, PWP. There are implications of Dean/Sam UST. (Dean is 16, Sammy's 12.)
Summary: Some things aren't safe to look at directly.

Dean kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and locked it. He bent down and unlaced his boots, feeling a few aches that would be bruises by tomorrow. Sammy was getting better. That hard, unexpected elbow to Dean’s solar plexus had knocked the wind out of him. It’d be enough to take down most people. Of course, the things they hunted were stronger and faster than people, and Dean had dumped Sammy on his ass for it, but still. Pretty good for a chubby little twelve year old. Dean had given him the first shower as a reward.

It also meant he finally had a little time to himself. Dean stepped out of his boots and pulled his t-shirt over his head, automatically keeping his amulet from snagging on the material. Sammy was always clingy when Dad was away on hunting trips, but this week had been worse than usual. Dean wiped down with the t-shirt and tossed it into the dirty laundry pile in the corner. He’d been horny all day, skin humming with the need to fight or fuck. Dean had thought a sparring session with Sammy might help burn it off, but it’d just made everything worse. He needed to jerk off right the fuck now, before he jumped out of his own skin.

Dean settled onto his bed, propped up a pillow up against the wall, and leaned back. He popped the button on his jeans and let his fingers press lightly against the base of his dick, already half-hard under the denim. He poked through his spank bank, looking for just the right fantasy. Dean had some good ones – it was all about the little details. The exact color of the teacher’s lipstick. The temperature of the water at the sorority car wash. The dimple on the inside of the cheerleader’s thigh. The taste of the girl’s cheek, all salty tears and gratitude. But none of it was flipping his Bic. None of it was really working for him, and Dean was starting to feel a little rushed for time.

So, keep it simple. Last week he’d brought home that girl from his history class, Katie. She was tiny and plump. He’d picked her up and moved her right where he wanted her, right on this bed, and she’d squealed like his mouth was the best thing ever. Dean fumbled his dick out of his pants, getting a little friction on the way. Yeah. He turned his head and sniffed for Katie on the pillow. Only it didn’t smell like her. It smelled like Sammy, where he’d crawled into bed with Dean after a nightmare last night. Dean swallowed.

Maybe not Katie. She was kind of a skank. But someone. Someone here, in his bed. In the dark. Dean’s dick twitched. That was … kind of kinky, in a really good way. Dean got up, took off his jeans, boxers, and socks, turned off the light, and lay back down on the bed naked. The curtains let in a yellow glow from the streetlight as he closed his eyes, focusing on the fantasy.

Someone. Warm little mouth and a wet tongue. Fuck, yeah. Dean’s right hand was around his dick, moving slowly, jerking him through this. The left he brought to his mouth, brushed over his lips. Shivered. Wet two fingers and trailed them down his neck, over his collarbone, past his amulet, leaving a cool trail like someone was blowing over his skin. Jesus. Down to his nipple, where the mouth circled slowly before closing in. Dean moaned as his fingers pinched gently. Moved further down, pressed into the sore spot on his chest. He threw his head back at how that felt, bit his lip against the, please, that wanted to come out.

Soft hair, brushing down his stomach. Dean was breathing hard. He reversed his grip, like it was someone else’s hand on his dick. The callus on his thumb hit that sensitive spot, right under the head. Fuck. And, yeah, no girl would have that callus, the one that came from loading thousands of rounds of ammo into clips over the years. No one did, except … except this was his fucking fantasy, and that callus felt awesome, and he was keeping it. So, little hands, that callus flicking over the head of his dick, rubbing against the slit, spreading the wetness around, making it good. His hips thrust up into his hand, looking for more.

Dean made himself slow down, not quite hard enough, not quite the right rhythm, like someone who didn’t know how to do this, like it was his first time, and fuck, he was close, so fucking close. Hot breath on his dick, eager little pants, like someone was gonna … like someone really wanted to …

The doorknob rattled. “Dean?” Sammy called.

And that was it, he was coming so hard it almost hurt, spurting, body curled around his dick. “Sa-Sammy,” Dean choked out, stroking himself through the aftershocks. “Jesus. Sometimes a man needs a little privacy.”

There was a pause, and then a high, childish voice filled with scorn informed Dean, “Well, next time a man shows up to jerk off in my bedroom, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Dean lay there on the bed, covered in his own spunk, heart pounding.

A soft thump – Sammy’s bare foot against the door. “When’s dinner? I’m hungry.”

Dean forced his brain into gear. “Okay, Sammy. Just give me a minute. I’ll take a quick shower, then make us some Kraft macaroni and cheese.”


Dean made himself roll off the bed and clean up with his sweaty t-shirt. Damn. He’d come so hard his lips were still tingling. Fucking awesome. A little warning bell went off in the back of his head. Because maybe, maybe it wasn’t natural for a date with his right hand to be that good. Dean ran through some possibilities: ghost lover, succubus, spells powered by sexual energy. Lots of things had a taste for hot, virile young guys like him. Maybe he should ask Dad about it when he got back.

And until then, he’d just have to try out that fantasy a few more times. For research purposes.


( 20 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 20th, 2009 02:55 am (UTC)
Hot! Also just the right tone for 16 year old Dean. Nice details with Dean using his other hand too!

This line slayed me, “Well, next time a man shows up to jerk off in my bedroom, I’ll keep that in mind.” LOL!
Aug. 20th, 2009 02:28 pm (UTC)
Thanks, loolookitty. I've stepped a bit out of my comfort zone, writing and posting this one, so I'm glad it worked for you. I truly believe that Sammy was bitchy from a young age.
Aug. 20th, 2009 04:08 pm (UTC)
Very hot...and I loved the way that Dean thought about it, mind skirting around the issue...

And Sammy was very amusing! Little snot... ;-)
Aug. 21st, 2009 01:09 am (UTC)
Total denial is the name of the game here. It's very Winchester. Sammy. *snickers* Thanks for the feeeback, ash_carpenter!
Aug. 20th, 2009 09:49 pm (UTC)
Oooh. That was awesome. You've really gotten into Dean's head!

*cough* sequel *cough*
Aug. 21st, 2009 01:12 am (UTC)
Glad you enjoyed! It's just ... really, really fucked up, with Sammy this young. I'm quite interested to see what Dean's next step here might be, myself. You're certainly welcome to take a swing at a sequel, if a plot bunny starts nibbling!
Aug. 21st, 2009 02:39 pm (UTC)
lol, yeah god I know. The sequel wouldn't have to take part right away though ;).

Aug. 20th, 2009 10:13 pm (UTC)
You already know I loved this, but my favorite part? BRATTY LITTLE SAM. ♥
Aug. 21st, 2009 01:18 am (UTC)
Heh. He really is. Thanks, m'dear!
Aug. 21st, 2009 03:00 pm (UTC)
I loved this! Please continue in this vein!
Aug. 22nd, 2009 12:48 am (UTC)
Thank you Frankie98!
Aug. 21st, 2009 08:31 pm (UTC)
Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean

“Well, next time a man shows up to jerk off in my bedroom, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Aug. 22nd, 2009 01:20 am (UTC)
Denial - not just a river in Egypt. *grins* Sammy's so good at being bitchy, he must have started young.

Thanks for the comment, mckays_girl!
Aug. 23rd, 2009 06:05 pm (UTC)
“Well, next time a man shows up to jerk off in my bedroom, I’ll keep that in mind.”

hee hee hee hee!

More generally, I like the combination of Sam being perfectly aware (and prepubescently disdainful) of Dean's libido, and Dean knowing it -- neither of them feels any need to hide the fact that Dean was jerking off -- with the fact that there's something here Sam doesn't know and Dean doesn't want to know. Nice combination of openness and silence!
Aug. 24th, 2009 03:10 pm (UTC)
Nice combination of openness and silence! What a lovely way of phrasing it, thank you the_shoshanna!
Aug. 25th, 2009 04:12 pm (UTC)
You got both of them right, I think, at those ages, and I love the breathlessness, and the circling fantasy, unwilling to take that final step to realization.

But I'm totally entranced by your title. I'm going to carry it and the image it evokes and how *perfect* it is all day.
Aug. 25th, 2009 06:35 pm (UTC)
Thank you, arliss! Dean's absolute unwillingness to see what he's doing, what he's fantasizing about, was what I really wanted to capture here.

I went on a week-long trip after I'd sent this to beta, and so I spent more time thinking about the title than on the piece itself. I wanted to evoke Perseus in his battle with Medusa, wanting to turn and look even though he knows it would destroy him. A tricky thing to do in just a few words. So I'm very pleased that it meant something to you.
Aug. 12th, 2010 05:37 pm (UTC)
Congrats! Your fic is recced here at sawedoff_recs.
Aug. 12th, 2010 06:07 pm (UTC)
Why thank you, loolookitty!
Aug. 14th, 2010 12:49 am (UTC)
my pleasure!
( 20 comments — Leave a comment )