Orlando: Part Two
Nov. 27th, 2018 02:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellerkayMasterlist
Part One
***
They searched the cemetery for a little while, but quickly concluded that they weren’t going to get anywhere on foot in the dark. Mount Auburn was too big, with too many places to hide. If the witch and whoever had been with her were even still there, which was a long shot.
They went back to Booth’s grave to collect their shovels and other gear, and returned to the Impala, Dean checking his new body out on the ride until Sam made him stop.
The second they were parked, Dean bounced out of the car and streaked into the motel. Sam sighed and followed more slowly. When he opened the door to their room, he found Dean, completely naked, examining himself in the full-length mirror outside the bathroom door. He looked at Sam with a huge grin.
“Dude!” he said. “I’m so fucking hot!”
Sam froze for a split second, then strode into the room and slammed the door shut before anyone else could see. He turned around and leaned his forehead on the door, eyes shut, but the image was seared into his brain.
Dean was shorter, but still tall for a woman – 5 foot 10 or so, Sam thought – with long, muscular legs and a really, unfairly, spectacular ass. He had the slightest swell of stomach, narrower shoulders…Sam couldn’t see the muscles in his arms so clearly anymore, but he was betting they were there, because what he could see was lean and toned. Dean’s face was a little narrower, and a little more delicate, but he still looked like Dean. Sam couldn’t decide if he was glad about that or if it made everything a million times worse.
And, yeah, he could see why Dean had spent the whole car ride trying to get him to look at his breasts. They were…
Sam squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried not to think about them. Or about anything else he’d seen.
“Hey, Sam – oh, calm down, you big prude.” Sam heard some quiet noises as Dean moved around, and then felt a tap on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Sammy, I’m decent.” Sam turned around to see a smirking Dean, who was now dressed in boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. His nipples were still plainly visible through the worn material.
“My eyes are up here, Sam,” Dean said, still smirking. “Ugh, why are men such pigs?”
Sam rolled his eyes, feeling heartily relieved. Dean being obnoxious made this a little easier to deal with.
A little.
The earring in Dean’s left ear caught Sam’s eye, and he frowned. He hadn’t noticed it at the cemetery or in the car. He reached a hand out towards it.
“Where did this come from?” he asked. Dean jerked his head back.
“Dude, don’t touch it. My ear hurts, and your hands are probably covered in graveyard dirt.” He fingered the earring. “I think this thing’s where the curse is coming from. It pierced my ear when I fell into the circle, and now it won’t come out.”
“You thought it was cursed, and you tried to just yank it out?” Sam demanded. Dean rolled his eyes. Were his eyelashes longer now?
“Yeah, because I’m a fucking idiot. No, I just kind of carefully tried. Wouldn’t budge.”
Sam heaved a sigh. “Okay. I’ll look up care for new piercings, I guess.” He sat down at the small motel room table and opened his laptop.
Dean gestured at himself. “I look like this and that’s what you’re investigating?”
“Calm down, I’ll research the rest of it later.” Anything to look away from Dean; the curve of his hips, the t-shirt tight across his chest…
“Can’t I just use soap?” Dean was saying.
“No,” Sam replied. “It says you should use saline solution.”
“What? Come on, I’m just gonna shower.”
“You’ll get shampoo in it, which is also bad, and you have to be able to wash it out after…” Sam looked up to see Dean practically dancing on his toes, grinning widely. Sam felt a flush creeping across his face as he realized why Dean was so eager to get into the shower. He looked away again and swallowed.
“That CVS in the town square is open 24 hours,” he muttered. “I’ll get you some while you shower.”
He practically fled the motel room; from the cheerful “Thanks!” Dean threw after him, Dean hadn’t noticed.
***
Dean was stripping off his clothes again the second the door banged shut. He turned on the shower and stepped in as soon as the water was hot. For a moment he just let it run over him, but then eagerly grabbed the soap and started lathering up.
God, he liked this body. He wouldn’t want to stay in it forever, but…the curves, the soft skin – fuck, how did girls not just spend all day staring at themselves?
After a quick but thorough examination, and a little tweaking of his nipples – which were rosy and kinda gorgeous, he thought – for foreplay, Dean rinsed the soap off and then slid his hands between his legs, past the thatch of dark hair, gasping as his fingers slipped into his folds. He found his opening without much trouble, but the angle was awkward, and after a second he lay down in the tub, legs spread wide, and eagerly slid a finger into himself.
Oh, fuck yes. He groaned as he added another finger, quickly finding his G-spot and applying pressure. His back arched and he started circling his clit with his other finger, biting back a cry. He was so fucking sensitive…
It felt so good, Dean got a little lost in it, teasing himself and feeling how new and different this pleasure was. As he relaxed, his thoughts strayed to Sam, who seemed weirdly tense about the whole situation. Dean thought about how Sam was suddenly even fucking taller than before, relatively, and he wondered if Sam could lift him now. Dean could wrap his legs around him, and Sam could pin him against a wall, and Sam could just slide right into him, so easy…
Dean moaned aloud and then realized what he’d been thinking about, and he wrenched his thoughts away. With a jolt, he realized he’d better hurry this up. The drugstore Sam had gone to wasn’t far. Dean stroked his clit faster and faster, biting his lip, not thinking about why he was so turned on, just concentrating on the feelings in this new body. The sensation built and built and then Dean’s orgasm hit him like a freight train. This time he did cry out, taken totally by surprise by the intensity of it, and how it went on and on. When it was over, Dean didn’t stop, hoping that he was one of the lucky vagina owners who could –
Oh fuck, he was. The second orgasm was less intense, but still friggin’ wonderful, as Dean gasped through it. When it was finally over, he collapsed back against the tub with a groan.
After a moment, he heard the motel room door shut. Good timing, Sammy, he thought, grinning. He quickly finished his shower and then strolled out into the room in just a towel. Sam was in bed already, his back to Dean, but Dean could tell by his breathing that he wasn’t asleep yet.
“Dude, women are so fucking lucky,” Dean said. “Do you know their orgasms last way longer than ours?”
“Yeah, I did,” Sam said shortly.
“Tomorrow, we gotta go get me some girl clothes and shit. Bras! I need bras!”
Sam groaned. “Fine,” he said. “The stuff for your ear is on the table. Now let me get some sleep.”
***
Ten minutes earlier
Sam stood in front of the motel room door, trying to decide if he should knock or what. He’d taken his time as best he could, browsing the aisles of the pharmacy and trying to ignore the incessant thoughts in his head. What would Dean look like, masturbating in the shower? Drops of water on his skin, clinging to his nipples…
Finally, he had to get out of there, just to get away from his own fantasies.
Sam decided that he’d have to risk it. If Dean was still in the shower, he probably wouldn’t even hear a knock. Sam keyed the lock pad and opened the door.
Sam was greeted with an unmistakable cry of pleasure from the bathroom, and he froze halfway into the room, heart pounding, blood rushing to his dick. He waited, and after a couple minutes, there was a long, satisfied groan. Sam shut his eyes and tried to breathe. It sounded like Dean was done, at least.
After what seemed like a reasonable interval, Sam shut the door loudly. He threw the bottle of saline solution on the table, shucked his jeans and shirt without bothering to fold them up, turned out the light, and crawled into bed.
He was so hard he could barely see straight. He thrust his hand into his boxers and wrapped it around his cock. He set a punishing rhythm and came in a few strokes, biting down hard on his lip. He heard the shower shut off just as he finished.
Sam’s head was a little clearer, but he felt no less miserable. For practically all his life, he’d done everything he could to avoid thinking about Dean’s body, outside of its well-being. And now…well, how could he possibly think about anything else? This female body, just as gorgeous as Dean’s old one, but in a vastly different way, and Sam’s head was filled with how it looked and how it used to look and god, had there ever been a bigger freak than Sam? And Dean was determined, apparently, to just parade himself around, because of course it would never in a million years occur to him what that would do to Sam. Dean obviously thought the whole situation was a big joke.
The bathroom door opened and light spilled out into the room. Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, just in case Dean decided to walk into his line of vision. Who knew if he was wearing anything at all.
He kept the conversation as short as he could, afraid that Dean would immediately know something was wrong. At least Dean was planning to get some clothing, and hadn’t decided to become a full-time nudist while his body looked like that.
Dean went to bed a few minutes later. Sam didn’t fall asleep for a couple hours, until almost dawn, and when he did, he dreamed about Dean, looking beautiful and laughing at him.
***
He woke up just a few hours later, to Dean’s cheerful “Up and at ’em, Sammy!”
Sam groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, trying to bury his face in the pillow. Dean shook his shoulder.
“Come on, man. Your sister needs some damn girl clothes.”
“What do you need me for?” Sam demanded.
“I figure you probably know more about women’s fashion than I do.”
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean shook his shoulder again, and the smell of coffee filled his nose. “I gotcha covered. Let’s hit up Target. There’s one right down the street.”
Sam sat up and accepted the coffee, knowing when to admit defeat. Dean wanted him there for the clothes, for some reason. It was like fighting the wind. Easier to just go in the direction Dean wanted him to.
After his coffee, Sam took a shower, feeling grimy with the graveyard dirt he hadn’t taken the time to wash off last night, in his desperation to escape consciousness.
“Thanks, Bobby,” he heard Dean saying, as he pulled on his jeans. He opened the bathroom door.
“What’d he say?” he asked, finger-combing his damp hair. Dean’s eyes flicked to his bare chest and back up again, so fast Sam wondered if he’d imagined it. Even if he hadn’t, it surely didn’t mean what Sam wanted it to mean.
“He thinks it’s hilarious,” Dean said cheerfully. “He’s gonna look into cures, but he said we’d better find the witch who did it, cause it could be hard to undo without her.”
Sam grimaced and pulled his T-shirt over his head. “I have no idea how we’re going to do that,” he said. “I got a look at her face in that flash of light, right before I was totally blinded, but we have no clue how to find her.”
“That sounds like a problem for after my shopping spree,” Dean said.
***
At Target, Dean made a beeline for the bras. Having no idea what size he was, he got a huge pile of different ones to try. Then he moved to the women’s clothing section, grabbing anything he liked and thought would look hot on a girl. Sam followed behind him, very quiet. Dean wondered what the hell was up with him, but decided to just concentrate on shopping.
When his cart was overflowing, Dean headed to the dressing room. He could only take in eight items at a time, so he left Sam to guard the cart as he made several rounds, quickly finding his sizes and then having Sam pick out the items that might actually fit while he tried them on.
He was so pleased with his ass and curves in a pair of short shorts and a tight tank top that he went to the entrance of the dressing room to show it off.
“Sam!” he said. “Check this out.” He struck a pose as Sam looked up from his phone.
For a split second, Sam looked like he’d been punched in the gut, his eyes raking down Dean’s body. Before Dean could say anything, the look was gone, and Dean thought maybe he’d imagined it.
“It’s October,” Sam said. “You’re not gonna need summer clothes.”
“They’re on clearance,” Dean protested, but it came out a little weakly. Sam’s face...Dean went back to the dressing room and took off the clothes, but the fun had gone out of things. He couldn’t have imagined that look on Sam’s face, could he? It looked like Sam wanted to devour him.
The memory sparked arousal low in Dean’s pelvis, familiar and yet different. Okay, so that’s what it feels like to get wet, he thought, trying to concentrate on the sensation and not imagine Sam throwing him down on a bed, Sam’s mouth on his breasts –
Dean quickly got dressed again in his own clothes and felt very thankful that women couldn’t get erections.
He picked the clothes he liked best out of the ones that fit and left the rest with the dressing room attendant, feeling subdued until he passed the shoes.
“Really?” Sam said wearily, when Dean began walking in that direction.
“Dude, my shoes are too big. Can’t hunt in those.”
“Can’t hunt in those, either,” Sam said, of the high-heeled boots Dean was examining, but Dean just grinned at him, good mood partially restored. He was in love with these, and damned if he wasn’t going to wear them while he had the chance.
He got lucky and guessed his size right on the first try, and added the high-heeled boots and a pair of hiking boots to the cart.
“Can we go now?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I think – wait!” Dean snapped his fingers. “Panties.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “Can’t you just wear the underwear you have?”
“Yeah, but come on, I gotta get some fun ones,” Dean said. “Because I’m worth it.” He looked closely at Sam, wondering if he’d get that look again, but Sam only sighed and nodded. He refused to go back into the lingerie section, though, and waited in the aisle while Dean found a couple of lacy black pairs he would have loved to see on a hot lady.
***
Back at the motel, Dean immediately found the bags he wanted, and the box with the high-heeled boots, and ran straight into the bathroom to change. Sam sat at the table and waited, bracing himself and practicing a neutral expression. He barely hung onto it when Dean came out in a denim dress with spaghetti straps, which had slits practically up to his thighs. He looked incredible.
“You’re gonna be cold in that,” was all Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes.
“I have a coat,” he said. “Let’s go get some lunch.”
“That’s what you want to wear to lunch?” Sam could hear his voice almost cracking and prayed Dean wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah! Come on, let’s go to a seafood restaurant. It’s Boston, and your hot sister should get a nice meal out.”
It was easier just to agree, and so Sam did.
The food was great, but Sam could barely eat, between trying not to look at Dean and trying not to look at the people looking at Dean. And Dean just ate it all up – the food, the attention; flashing cleavage and leg and flirting with their very attractive male waiter, who happily flirted back.
This’ll all be over soon, Sam reminded himself, gritting his teeth. He hoped. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to get used to ignoring a whole new body of Dean’s.
It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the motel room; Dean had taken his time with lunch, and then they’d gone for a walk in the Public Gardens downtown, Dean strutting along in a decidedly non-feminine way, which still somehow made him look great and which had garnered him many admiring looks. Sam had kept his eyes on the ground.
The second they got into the room, Dean tossed Sam his phone. “Hey, take a picture of me, wouldja?” He sat on the low motel dresser/TV stand, legs splayed, head in one hand, grinning. The dress’ spaghetti straps had slipped down. He looked so happy and so beautiful that Sam wanted to cry.
He swallowed down his emotions and took the picture.
Only after did it occur to Sam to ask, “Why did you want that, anyway?”
Dean was staring at the picture on his phone. He smirked. “Oh, you know. Just for a memento.”
Something in his tone gave Sam pause. “Oh, my god,” he said, when it clicked. “You’re going to jerk off to it?!”
Dean gestured to himself. “Dude. Look what a hot chick I make.”
Sam just shook his head in disbelief and opened his laptop. He felt stuck somewhere between laughing and crying and decided that trying to track down the witch would be the best thing for him.
***
Deciding to leave Sam to his research – what could he really add, anyway; Sam was the one who knew what she looked like – Dean flopped down on his stomach on his bed and played on his phone, kicking his feet absently in the air.
After about fifteen minutes, something occurred to him, and he looked over at Sam. “I should totally go out tonight, right?”
“What?”
“To a bar, or something. I gotta get lucky while I’m in this body.”
Sam frowned. “You want to go to a lesbian bar?”
“No – well, I mean yeah, maybe, if there’s time before we turn me back – but nah, I was just thinking a regular bar.”
“So…you’re bi now?”
Dean didn’t really want to answer that question, because it wasn’t something he’d ever told his brother and it wasn’t like he even hooked up with guys that often, anyways. “I just think it would be really interesting to find out what it’s like to get fucked when you have a vagina! I mean, I can’t pass up this opportunity, right?”
Sam had a funny expression on his face. “So you’re just going to pick up some random guy? What if he’s an asshole? Or worse?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Sam, I might be in this body, but I’m still me. Pretty sure years of training and a lot of weapons trumps slightly less upper body strength.” Too bad you can’t just ask your baby brother to show you a good time, said the ugly little voice in his head that, after Hell, had always sounded like Alastair. Dean shoved the thought down and looked back at his phone. “So, you wanna help me find someplace that looks good?”
Sam didn’t reply, and after a minute, Dean looked up again, expecting to see Sam ignoring him, back at work on his computer. Instead, Sam was staring at Dean, looking stricken. He looked away and stood up the second Dean’s eyes met his.
“Sammy, what is it?” Dean asked. Sam’s expression had lashed him like a whip.
“I could use a walk,” Sam mumbled, picking up his jacket.
Dean jumped off the bed. “Hey, come on, man, it’s all right. If you’re really that worried about your big sister – ”
“Dean, of course I know you can look out for yourself,” Sam snapped.
“Then what?” Dean demanded, ignoring the warning instinct that told him not to push Sam on this. “You’ve been acting weird since last night. Why does this have you so freaked?”
“I’m not freaked, I’m pissed off,” Sam shouted. “Ever since you got this body you’ve been running around half-dressed – or less – and I can’t – ” He stopped abruptly.
“Can’t what?” Dean heard himself ask. His heart was hammering and his higher voice, which he still wasn’t used to, sounded like it was coming from far away.
Sam’s shoulders slumped and he stared at Dean, his eyes dark and pained. “I can’t take it anymore,” he said hollowly. “I can’t watch you parading around and know I can never…” He shut his eyes and turned away. “Dean, please. I’m begging you. Just let me go clear my head. I’ll be fine.”
Dean still wasn’t processing all of this very well, but he damn well knew Sam would not be fine. That look in his eyes told a very different story. A story Dean knew all too well.
When Sam reached for the door, Dean grabbed his wrist instinctively. Sam glared at him.
“I said let me go, Dean,” he said, and oh boy, staring up that fierce expression, the near-growl in Sam’s voice…If Dean hadn’t known how upset Sam was, he would’ve been turned on.
…He was kind of turned on anyway. Kind of a lot.
Dean realized he was just staring at Sam, mouth agape. Say something SAY SOMETHING, his brain screamed, and Dean swallowed, hard.
“Or, I mean,” Dean said. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. “You could stay, and I don’t have to go out tonight.”
Sam closed his eyes for a second. “Dean, I don’t want to stop you,” he said. “I get why you want to experience that. I do.”
“No,” Dean said insistently. “I mean…you stay, and I don’t go out, and I…I get to experience it anyway.” He felt like he was going to throw up.
Sam blinked at him slowly. “You…you want that?” he said.
Dean nodded, quickly, before he could chicken out.
“And you’re not bothered by the fact that we’re brothers?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I’m bothered. I’ll probably hate myself forever for wanting you like this, but hey, what’s one more log on that particular fire?” Dean shrugged, trying to ignore Sam’s sad expression. He always looked like that when Dean said that kind of thing; that was hardly the new territory in this conversation.
“And I never wanna see you look like that again,” Dean barreled on. “Like you did a few minutes ago.”
Sam’s brow furrowed and he gently pulled his wrist from Dean’s grasp, straightening up. “Are you just doing this for me?” he asked quietly, avoiding Dean’s eyes.
“What?” Dean said. “Of course not. I…” Sam looked at him again, and Dean gave Sam a slow once-over, for the first time letting himself think about how painfully gorgeous Sam really was, without trying to cover up the feelings or banish them to some dark corner of his mind. He met Sam’s eyes at the end, trying to let his need show in them, silently begging Sam not to make him say it.
Sam’s mouth fell open slightly. “Dean,” he said softly, and then he closed the gap between them and pushed Dean against the wall with his body, so they were pressing together.
Dean gulped and wondered if you could wreck panties by getting too wet.
“Dean,” Sam said again, in that same quiet tone, and then his huge hand was cupping Dean’s cheek, thumb brushing his cheekbone.
And then his lips were on Dean’s, nothing soft about it, and Dean was kissing him back just as hard, head craned back, throwing his arms around Sam’s neck without even thinking about it and ohgod, letting out an actual whimper.
That had to be the girl-body’s fault.
It was also, Dean decided, this body’s fault that Sam’s arms around his waist made him feel slightly faint, and that all he could think about was his breasts mashed against Sam’s broad chest (god, that chest) and that when Sam slid his leg between Dean’s, it took considerable restraint not to hump his thigh.
Sam finally let him up for some air, but Dean couldn’t catch his breath, not when Sam was immediately kissing his neck, his shoulders, his upper chest.
“Okay? You okay? This okay?” Sam kept whispering, and Dean managed to choke out a couple affirmative responses and tried to show his really, really enthusiastic consent with his hands in Sam’s hair – god, he loved that stupid, soft, too-long, perfect hair – and in his gasps and moans. Because he couldn’t really speak through this tidal wave of feeling, arousal and desire and a million other emotions so strong he half wanted to cry.
That was definitely the female hormones, right?
Sam’s lips were on his again, Sam’s tongue in his mouth, and that was Sam’s hard-on pressing into his thigh, oh god that shouldn’t turn Dean on so much but he could feel his face getting even warmer with arousal, and even the shame was just making this hotter right now.
Sam’s hand at his back was unzipping his dress and as soon as the zipper was down Dean shoved the dress off and kicked it away.
Sam took a step back and Dean panicked for a second that he’d changed his mind, but he was just looking Dean up and down, and even though Dean had been totally naked in front of him the night before, he suddenly felt way more exposed. He started to cross his arms over his chest, but Sam stepped forward and kissed him again. Dean felt like he was drowning in the smell of Sam, the taste of him. Sam’s hands were on his hips and Dean’s arms were around Sam’s neck again like this was a fucking romance novel and he was the lady about to be ravished, which – he could actually feel a throb of desire – he was.
Sam slid his hands down to cup Dean’s ass and Dean attempted to get a leg around Sam’s waist, trying to get higher so he could grind against him properly, and Sam chuckled and lifted him up like he weighed nothing.
Dean made a strangled noise and got his legs around Sam. Sam’s face was level with his tits now, and Sam nuzzled them, grinning like a fool, and the look made Dean so happy he could almost forget how crazy this was. Then Sam sucked one of Dean’s nipples into his mouth and Dean actually forgot, throwing his head back and groaning. Sam let go and went straight for the other one, grazing it with his teeth.
“Fuck,” Dean swore.
“We’ll get there,” Sam murmured, and Dean would have punched him in the arm for that, he really would have, but now Sam was walking them backwards and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Dean got his legs back under him and realized he was now straddling his brother, who had put his arms behind him, bracing them. He looked at Sam.
“Well?” Sam said, and there was a flash of vulnerability there, a little uncertainty. So Dean took a deep breath and shifted slightly, resettling himself where he wanted to be, with Sam’s hard length right between his legs. Sam’s lips parted slightly and Dean pressed against the bulge, letting his hips circle a little.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, just as Sam was saying “Oh, god,” and grabbing the back of Dean’s neck and kissing him again, hard. Dean kissed him right back but started unbuttoning Sam’s shirt, too, because it really wasn’t fair that Sam was still fully dressed.
The second it was undone, Sam shucked it, and pulled his T-shirt over his head before Dean could even start. Dean tried to look – he never got to look, he was always too busy making himself look away – but Sam was pulling him in for another long kiss, and oh, yeah, his breasts against Sam’s chest felt impossibly good; the warmth, the soft scratch of hair on his nipples…Dean could feel Sam’s dick throb even through the denim and he wondered if they could both come just from grinding up against each other this way. He sure felt like he could.
But apparently, he wasn’t going to get to find out, because suddenly Sam lifted him up again and dumped him on his back on the bed. Sam loomed over him, and Dean couldn’t keep his hands off him – his hair, his chest, his arms; god, it seemed like Sam’s arms looked even more amazing than usual right now.
Sam kissed his lips quickly and then started working his way down his body, all warm lips and tongue, and Dean felt like he was coming unglued, especially when he realized what Sam was probably working towards. After kissing Dean’s belly, Sam sat up and pulled off Dean’s boots for him, warm hands lingering on each foot for a quick rub, which felt amazing, especially after those fucking heels. Dean didn’t know how women did it all day long.
Sam ran his hands up Dean’s legs, squeezing gently, and then he hooked his fingers in Dean’s panties and started slowly pulling them down. Dean felt frozen with fear and desire.
The panties were gone and Sam was at his head again.
“Hey,” he said, doing his concerned brow furrow. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Dean squeaked out. Sam didn’t look convinced.
“You want to stop?”
“Dude, you stop now, I’ll fucking shoot you in the face,” Dean said. Sam laughed, and kissed him, and ran his hand down Dean’s chest, over his belly. When his fingers parted Dean’s slick folds and skated over his clit, Dean gasped, shutting his eyes.
Sam moved down again, kissing the hollows of Dean’s hips as his fingers explored gently, carefully.
“Open your legs more,” he murmured, and Dean complied automatically, feeling himself flush at just how fucking hot that was to hear from his brother’s lips.
Sam slid a finger into his opening and Dean made an involuntary noise and clenched around him.
“Dean, fuck,” Sam said, sounding slightly stupefied. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Gimme another,” Dean gasped out, because he really couldn’t respond to what Sam had just said.
Two fingers felt even better than one, and Dean groaned. And then he felt Sam’s hot breath across his labia, and the first touch of Sam’s tongue on his folds, and Dean was stunned into silence.
The silence didn’t last more than a couple seconds; the slow exploration of Sam’s tongue had Dean moaning and fisting a hand in the bedsheets in no time. Sam started circling his clit, and flicking his tongue over it; teasing, maddening, and Dean never wanted it to stop. Except for how he was losing his mind.
Sam didn’t let up, gradually ramping up the speed of his tongue and rubbing his fingers on Dean’s G-spot. Dean’s moans became a babble ohgodSamfuckdon’tstopohgodSammyohmyGOD until he came with a drawn-out cry, hips lifting off the bed and Sam somehow still on him, mouth and hands, and it seemed to go on and on until Dean collapsed back against the bed, breathing hard.
And even then Sam didn’t stop; he scissored his fingers inside Dean a few times and moaned against him and expertly flicked his tongue around Dean’s clit and then Dean’s second orgasm hit, almost out of nowhere, and Dean yelled again, shuddering through it.
Sam pulled back enough to kiss Dean’s inner thigh and rub his cheek on it. “One more?” he asked, voice hoarse. He moved his fingers gently inside Dean, not withdrawing, and Dean groaned, walls squeezing them automatically.
“No, man,” he said, voice breathy. “We gotta…gotta do you.”
Sam laughed softly and sat up. Dean bit back a disappointed noise when he pulled his fingers out, and instead sat up and kissed Sam hard, running his hands over Sam’s chest, which he couldn’t seem to stop touching.
“What do you want to do?” Sam asked quietly, when they’d come up for air. His forehead was on Dean’s, his arms around Dean’s waist, and Dean felt giddy.
“Wasn’t the whole point of this for me to get plowed by a hot guy?” Dean said. Sam didn’t immediately respond, and Dean frowned. “I mean, hey, if you changed your mind – ”
“No way,” Sam said. He kissed Dean fiercely, and Dean tried not to melt in his arms. This was not a romance novel, damn it. He set to work on Sam’s belt buckle instead, quickly undoing it and Sam’s jeans. He shoved the jeans down and then was a little more careful with Sam’s boxer briefs, so they wouldn’t catch on his erection.
And fuck, that…sure was an erection. Dean stared at it, trying not to drool. Sam’s cock was hard enough to cut diamonds, and all Dean could think about was getting it inside him.
“Did you change your mind?” Sam asked, misinterpreting Dean’s look.
“Fuck no,” Dean said quickly, wrapping a hand around Sam’s dick (ohgodSam’sdickwhatthefuckwhatthefuck), and Sam made a small noise, but as soon as Dean gave an experimental tug, Sam grabbed his wrist. Dean froze.
“Last thing I need is more foreplay,” Sam said, with an embarrassed grin. Dean wanted so badly to tease him for that, but it seemed kind of unfair, because he’d probably be in the same position if he still had a dick. Plus, it meant he’d get what he wanted sooner.
“Great!” he said instead, and flopped down on his back on the bed, spreading his legs wide. “Give it to me, big boy.”
Sam snorted, but he was grinning. He got up and kicked his jeans and briefs off, then rummaged in his bag.
“I really don’t think I need lube,” Dean called out.
“I’m looking for a condom.”
Dean shifted impatiently. “Look, I always wear ’em, and I just got tested a couple months ago. You don’t have to wear one for my sake.” He didn’t want to wait, and damned if he didn’t badly want Sam naked inside him, no barriers…He shoved that thought away quickly. He might be fucking his brother, but there were still limits to what he could admit to himself.
Sam had found the condoms and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “STDs weren’t my first concern, Dean.” He ripped open the condom and started rolling it slowly onto his erection, and somehow even that was crazy hot. Dean watched him.
“Then what…oh, fuck.” Dean’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Condom. Definitely. Uh, what’s the expiration date on those?”
“It’s fine. I double-checked.” Sam joined him on the bed again and kissed him fiercely. “Ready?”
Dean nodded fast, feeling unaccountably nervous. A horrifying thought occurred to him. “Oh shit, dude – what if I’m a virgin?”
“What?”
“I mean, what if I have a hymen?!”
Sam considered this. “I mean, you certainly weren’t a virgin in your own body, but…stop me if it hurts, I guess? Whether or not you think it’s from a hymen, of course. Or if you do change your mind, or…”
Dean grabbed the back of Sam’s neck and kissed him. “Shut up and fuck me, Sam.”
Sam huffed a laughed and then he was kneeling between Dean’s legs and carefully positioning his dick. Dean’s breath came faster and he forced himself to relax at the first push, which hurt just a little, but then the head was past that first ring of muscle and Sam was sinking slowly into him and jesus fucking christ this was real, this was Sam filling him up and feeling so good Dean thought he might actually die.
“God, Dean,” Sam was saying in a hoarse voice. “You’re so wet.”
Cause it’s you, Dean thought, but did not say, just stared up at Sam, his brother’s flushed skin and muscular frame, hovering above him like a fucking miracle. And Sam was inside him.
Sam was also frowning down at him, cupping his cheek. “You okay?” he said.
“Yeah,” Dean said, still feeling dazed.
“Does it hurt?”
Dean shook his head, and touched Sam’s hand that was touching his cheek, and turned his face to kiss Sam’s palm.
“Dean…” Sam said, so softly, and then he started moving, gently, and Dean sucked in a breath and his legs were wrapped around Sam’s waist in two seconds flat without him even thinking about it, pulling Sam closer, deeper. Sam groaned, pausing to move so he was holding his weight on his forearms. He leaned down and kissed Dean again, then started thrusting a little faster, breathing hard.
Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, fingers digging into his back, kissing Sam’s neck and shoulder. He knew he probably couldn’t come from just this, but fuck, it felt good, and it was Sam, who he loved more than life and who he’d maybe never loved so much as he did right now, when they were this crazy connected.
Sam’s breath was hot on his neck, and he was thrusting steadily, but he was holding back, Dean could tell, from the slick sweat on his back and the quivering muscles in his ass under Dean’s feet. Sam paused to kiss him and Dean kissed him right back, fingers tangled in Sam’s hair, but with half his mind he was thinking how he didn’t want Sam holding back.
So when Sam pulled away, Dean kept his hand on Sam’s face so Sam would look at him, and Dean looked right into his eyes.
“Harder,” he said firmly.
Sam’s eyes widened and he made a strangled noise and then he sure was going harder. Dean gasped for breath, clinging to Sam’s body, and oh, yes, this was what he’d been waiting for, each thrust a burst of pleasure inside him. He licked a couple of his fingertips and slid his hand down his body and started rubbing frantically at his clit, and it was no time at all before he was coming again, back arching and yelling out Sam’s name and not even caring.
“Dean, god,” Sam said in a choked voice, looking down at him with wide eyes. “I gotta either slow down or – ”
“Nah, nah, fuck, come in me, Sammy,” Dean babbled, barely aware of what he was saying but very sure of what he wanted, the aftershocks of the orgasm still pulsing through him, stronger from the movement of Sam’s cock inside him. Sam moaned and then he was slamming into Dean, while Dean spread his legs and gasped in pleasure, feeling his body tightening automatically, clamping down on Sam’s cock and making the movement inside him feel even fucking better, if that was possible.
Sam’s face was buried in his neck and Sam’s hips were pistoning desperately. Dean raked his nails down Sam’s back and then Sam cried out and stilled, the sound he made ending in something like a sob as he shuddered. Dean could feel him pulsing inside and he wondered if this stupid girl body was going to make him cry after all.
Sam had collapsed on top of him and was way too fucking heavy, but Dean ignored the discomfort, stroking Sam’s hair and back and feeling slightly dazed again.
After a moment, Sam sat up abruptly and slid a hand under Dean, rolling onto his side and easily bringing Dean with him, so Dean was curled up against his chest and Sam was still inside him, going soft. It felt wonderful and so fucking safe that Dean felt choked up again.
He swallowed that down and made an impatient noise. “Dude, we don’t have to cuddle.”
Evidently Sam had gotten far too good at reading him, or was just a really good guesser, because he kept his arms tight around Dean.
“How’d I do?” Sam asked.
Dean blinked. Uh, unbelievable? Mind-blowing? I may never walk straight again and I’m fucking thrilled about it? “Not bad,” he said aloud. “I can see why women like to keep you around.”
Sam laughed softly and hugged Dean even tighter. Dean felt Sam’s lips on his hair and his whole body relaxed even more. He should probably be stopping this. He knew Sam had just offered this as a one-time thing so Dean would know what it was like, and because Sam was weirdly kinda into him in girl form. He shouldn’t be letting himself get used to the feeling of Sam’s arms around him, Sam’s broad chest rising and falling against him…But Dean was asleep before he could force himself to move.
***
Part Three
Part One
***
They searched the cemetery for a little while, but quickly concluded that they weren’t going to get anywhere on foot in the dark. Mount Auburn was too big, with too many places to hide. If the witch and whoever had been with her were even still there, which was a long shot.
They went back to Booth’s grave to collect their shovels and other gear, and returned to the Impala, Dean checking his new body out on the ride until Sam made him stop.
The second they were parked, Dean bounced out of the car and streaked into the motel. Sam sighed and followed more slowly. When he opened the door to their room, he found Dean, completely naked, examining himself in the full-length mirror outside the bathroom door. He looked at Sam with a huge grin.
“Dude!” he said. “I’m so fucking hot!”
Sam froze for a split second, then strode into the room and slammed the door shut before anyone else could see. He turned around and leaned his forehead on the door, eyes shut, but the image was seared into his brain.
Dean was shorter, but still tall for a woman – 5 foot 10 or so, Sam thought – with long, muscular legs and a really, unfairly, spectacular ass. He had the slightest swell of stomach, narrower shoulders…Sam couldn’t see the muscles in his arms so clearly anymore, but he was betting they were there, because what he could see was lean and toned. Dean’s face was a little narrower, and a little more delicate, but he still looked like Dean. Sam couldn’t decide if he was glad about that or if it made everything a million times worse.
And, yeah, he could see why Dean had spent the whole car ride trying to get him to look at his breasts. They were…
Sam squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried not to think about them. Or about anything else he’d seen.
“Hey, Sam – oh, calm down, you big prude.” Sam heard some quiet noises as Dean moved around, and then felt a tap on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Sammy, I’m decent.” Sam turned around to see a smirking Dean, who was now dressed in boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. His nipples were still plainly visible through the worn material.
“My eyes are up here, Sam,” Dean said, still smirking. “Ugh, why are men such pigs?”
Sam rolled his eyes, feeling heartily relieved. Dean being obnoxious made this a little easier to deal with.
A little.
The earring in Dean’s left ear caught Sam’s eye, and he frowned. He hadn’t noticed it at the cemetery or in the car. He reached a hand out towards it.
“Where did this come from?” he asked. Dean jerked his head back.
“Dude, don’t touch it. My ear hurts, and your hands are probably covered in graveyard dirt.” He fingered the earring. “I think this thing’s where the curse is coming from. It pierced my ear when I fell into the circle, and now it won’t come out.”
“You thought it was cursed, and you tried to just yank it out?” Sam demanded. Dean rolled his eyes. Were his eyelashes longer now?
“Yeah, because I’m a fucking idiot. No, I just kind of carefully tried. Wouldn’t budge.”
Sam heaved a sigh. “Okay. I’ll look up care for new piercings, I guess.” He sat down at the small motel room table and opened his laptop.
Dean gestured at himself. “I look like this and that’s what you’re investigating?”
“Calm down, I’ll research the rest of it later.” Anything to look away from Dean; the curve of his hips, the t-shirt tight across his chest…
“Can’t I just use soap?” Dean was saying.
“No,” Sam replied. “It says you should use saline solution.”
“What? Come on, I’m just gonna shower.”
“You’ll get shampoo in it, which is also bad, and you have to be able to wash it out after…” Sam looked up to see Dean practically dancing on his toes, grinning widely. Sam felt a flush creeping across his face as he realized why Dean was so eager to get into the shower. He looked away again and swallowed.
“That CVS in the town square is open 24 hours,” he muttered. “I’ll get you some while you shower.”
He practically fled the motel room; from the cheerful “Thanks!” Dean threw after him, Dean hadn’t noticed.
***
Dean was stripping off his clothes again the second the door banged shut. He turned on the shower and stepped in as soon as the water was hot. For a moment he just let it run over him, but then eagerly grabbed the soap and started lathering up.
God, he liked this body. He wouldn’t want to stay in it forever, but…the curves, the soft skin – fuck, how did girls not just spend all day staring at themselves?
After a quick but thorough examination, and a little tweaking of his nipples – which were rosy and kinda gorgeous, he thought – for foreplay, Dean rinsed the soap off and then slid his hands between his legs, past the thatch of dark hair, gasping as his fingers slipped into his folds. He found his opening without much trouble, but the angle was awkward, and after a second he lay down in the tub, legs spread wide, and eagerly slid a finger into himself.
Oh, fuck yes. He groaned as he added another finger, quickly finding his G-spot and applying pressure. His back arched and he started circling his clit with his other finger, biting back a cry. He was so fucking sensitive…
It felt so good, Dean got a little lost in it, teasing himself and feeling how new and different this pleasure was. As he relaxed, his thoughts strayed to Sam, who seemed weirdly tense about the whole situation. Dean thought about how Sam was suddenly even fucking taller than before, relatively, and he wondered if Sam could lift him now. Dean could wrap his legs around him, and Sam could pin him against a wall, and Sam could just slide right into him, so easy…
Dean moaned aloud and then realized what he’d been thinking about, and he wrenched his thoughts away. With a jolt, he realized he’d better hurry this up. The drugstore Sam had gone to wasn’t far. Dean stroked his clit faster and faster, biting his lip, not thinking about why he was so turned on, just concentrating on the feelings in this new body. The sensation built and built and then Dean’s orgasm hit him like a freight train. This time he did cry out, taken totally by surprise by the intensity of it, and how it went on and on. When it was over, Dean didn’t stop, hoping that he was one of the lucky vagina owners who could –
Oh fuck, he was. The second orgasm was less intense, but still friggin’ wonderful, as Dean gasped through it. When it was finally over, he collapsed back against the tub with a groan.
After a moment, he heard the motel room door shut. Good timing, Sammy, he thought, grinning. He quickly finished his shower and then strolled out into the room in just a towel. Sam was in bed already, his back to Dean, but Dean could tell by his breathing that he wasn’t asleep yet.
“Dude, women are so fucking lucky,” Dean said. “Do you know their orgasms last way longer than ours?”
“Yeah, I did,” Sam said shortly.
“Tomorrow, we gotta go get me some girl clothes and shit. Bras! I need bras!”
Sam groaned. “Fine,” he said. “The stuff for your ear is on the table. Now let me get some sleep.”
***
Ten minutes earlier
Sam stood in front of the motel room door, trying to decide if he should knock or what. He’d taken his time as best he could, browsing the aisles of the pharmacy and trying to ignore the incessant thoughts in his head. What would Dean look like, masturbating in the shower? Drops of water on his skin, clinging to his nipples…
Finally, he had to get out of there, just to get away from his own fantasies.
Sam decided that he’d have to risk it. If Dean was still in the shower, he probably wouldn’t even hear a knock. Sam keyed the lock pad and opened the door.
Sam was greeted with an unmistakable cry of pleasure from the bathroom, and he froze halfway into the room, heart pounding, blood rushing to his dick. He waited, and after a couple minutes, there was a long, satisfied groan. Sam shut his eyes and tried to breathe. It sounded like Dean was done, at least.
After what seemed like a reasonable interval, Sam shut the door loudly. He threw the bottle of saline solution on the table, shucked his jeans and shirt without bothering to fold them up, turned out the light, and crawled into bed.
He was so hard he could barely see straight. He thrust his hand into his boxers and wrapped it around his cock. He set a punishing rhythm and came in a few strokes, biting down hard on his lip. He heard the shower shut off just as he finished.
Sam’s head was a little clearer, but he felt no less miserable. For practically all his life, he’d done everything he could to avoid thinking about Dean’s body, outside of its well-being. And now…well, how could he possibly think about anything else? This female body, just as gorgeous as Dean’s old one, but in a vastly different way, and Sam’s head was filled with how it looked and how it used to look and god, had there ever been a bigger freak than Sam? And Dean was determined, apparently, to just parade himself around, because of course it would never in a million years occur to him what that would do to Sam. Dean obviously thought the whole situation was a big joke.
The bathroom door opened and light spilled out into the room. Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, just in case Dean decided to walk into his line of vision. Who knew if he was wearing anything at all.
He kept the conversation as short as he could, afraid that Dean would immediately know something was wrong. At least Dean was planning to get some clothing, and hadn’t decided to become a full-time nudist while his body looked like that.
Dean went to bed a few minutes later. Sam didn’t fall asleep for a couple hours, until almost dawn, and when he did, he dreamed about Dean, looking beautiful and laughing at him.
***
He woke up just a few hours later, to Dean’s cheerful “Up and at ’em, Sammy!”
Sam groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, trying to bury his face in the pillow. Dean shook his shoulder.
“Come on, man. Your sister needs some damn girl clothes.”
“What do you need me for?” Sam demanded.
“I figure you probably know more about women’s fashion than I do.”
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean shook his shoulder again, and the smell of coffee filled his nose. “I gotcha covered. Let’s hit up Target. There’s one right down the street.”
Sam sat up and accepted the coffee, knowing when to admit defeat. Dean wanted him there for the clothes, for some reason. It was like fighting the wind. Easier to just go in the direction Dean wanted him to.
After his coffee, Sam took a shower, feeling grimy with the graveyard dirt he hadn’t taken the time to wash off last night, in his desperation to escape consciousness.
“Thanks, Bobby,” he heard Dean saying, as he pulled on his jeans. He opened the bathroom door.
“What’d he say?” he asked, finger-combing his damp hair. Dean’s eyes flicked to his bare chest and back up again, so fast Sam wondered if he’d imagined it. Even if he hadn’t, it surely didn’t mean what Sam wanted it to mean.
“He thinks it’s hilarious,” Dean said cheerfully. “He’s gonna look into cures, but he said we’d better find the witch who did it, cause it could be hard to undo without her.”
Sam grimaced and pulled his T-shirt over his head. “I have no idea how we’re going to do that,” he said. “I got a look at her face in that flash of light, right before I was totally blinded, but we have no clue how to find her.”
“That sounds like a problem for after my shopping spree,” Dean said.
***
At Target, Dean made a beeline for the bras. Having no idea what size he was, he got a huge pile of different ones to try. Then he moved to the women’s clothing section, grabbing anything he liked and thought would look hot on a girl. Sam followed behind him, very quiet. Dean wondered what the hell was up with him, but decided to just concentrate on shopping.
When his cart was overflowing, Dean headed to the dressing room. He could only take in eight items at a time, so he left Sam to guard the cart as he made several rounds, quickly finding his sizes and then having Sam pick out the items that might actually fit while he tried them on.
He was so pleased with his ass and curves in a pair of short shorts and a tight tank top that he went to the entrance of the dressing room to show it off.
“Sam!” he said. “Check this out.” He struck a pose as Sam looked up from his phone.
For a split second, Sam looked like he’d been punched in the gut, his eyes raking down Dean’s body. Before Dean could say anything, the look was gone, and Dean thought maybe he’d imagined it.
“It’s October,” Sam said. “You’re not gonna need summer clothes.”
“They’re on clearance,” Dean protested, but it came out a little weakly. Sam’s face...Dean went back to the dressing room and took off the clothes, but the fun had gone out of things. He couldn’t have imagined that look on Sam’s face, could he? It looked like Sam wanted to devour him.
The memory sparked arousal low in Dean’s pelvis, familiar and yet different. Okay, so that’s what it feels like to get wet, he thought, trying to concentrate on the sensation and not imagine Sam throwing him down on a bed, Sam’s mouth on his breasts –
Dean quickly got dressed again in his own clothes and felt very thankful that women couldn’t get erections.
He picked the clothes he liked best out of the ones that fit and left the rest with the dressing room attendant, feeling subdued until he passed the shoes.
“Really?” Sam said wearily, when Dean began walking in that direction.
“Dude, my shoes are too big. Can’t hunt in those.”
“Can’t hunt in those, either,” Sam said, of the high-heeled boots Dean was examining, but Dean just grinned at him, good mood partially restored. He was in love with these, and damned if he wasn’t going to wear them while he had the chance.
He got lucky and guessed his size right on the first try, and added the high-heeled boots and a pair of hiking boots to the cart.
“Can we go now?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I think – wait!” Dean snapped his fingers. “Panties.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “Can’t you just wear the underwear you have?”
“Yeah, but come on, I gotta get some fun ones,” Dean said. “Because I’m worth it.” He looked closely at Sam, wondering if he’d get that look again, but Sam only sighed and nodded. He refused to go back into the lingerie section, though, and waited in the aisle while Dean found a couple of lacy black pairs he would have loved to see on a hot lady.
***
Back at the motel, Dean immediately found the bags he wanted, and the box with the high-heeled boots, and ran straight into the bathroom to change. Sam sat at the table and waited, bracing himself and practicing a neutral expression. He barely hung onto it when Dean came out in a denim dress with spaghetti straps, which had slits practically up to his thighs. He looked incredible.
“You’re gonna be cold in that,” was all Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes.
“I have a coat,” he said. “Let’s go get some lunch.”
“That’s what you want to wear to lunch?” Sam could hear his voice almost cracking and prayed Dean wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah! Come on, let’s go to a seafood restaurant. It’s Boston, and your hot sister should get a nice meal out.”
It was easier just to agree, and so Sam did.
The food was great, but Sam could barely eat, between trying not to look at Dean and trying not to look at the people looking at Dean. And Dean just ate it all up – the food, the attention; flashing cleavage and leg and flirting with their very attractive male waiter, who happily flirted back.
This’ll all be over soon, Sam reminded himself, gritting his teeth. He hoped. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to get used to ignoring a whole new body of Dean’s.
It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the motel room; Dean had taken his time with lunch, and then they’d gone for a walk in the Public Gardens downtown, Dean strutting along in a decidedly non-feminine way, which still somehow made him look great and which had garnered him many admiring looks. Sam had kept his eyes on the ground.
The second they got into the room, Dean tossed Sam his phone. “Hey, take a picture of me, wouldja?” He sat on the low motel dresser/TV stand, legs splayed, head in one hand, grinning. The dress’ spaghetti straps had slipped down. He looked so happy and so beautiful that Sam wanted to cry.
He swallowed down his emotions and took the picture.
Only after did it occur to Sam to ask, “Why did you want that, anyway?”
Dean was staring at the picture on his phone. He smirked. “Oh, you know. Just for a memento.”
Something in his tone gave Sam pause. “Oh, my god,” he said, when it clicked. “You’re going to jerk off to it?!”
Dean gestured to himself. “Dude. Look what a hot chick I make.”
Sam just shook his head in disbelief and opened his laptop. He felt stuck somewhere between laughing and crying and decided that trying to track down the witch would be the best thing for him.
***
Deciding to leave Sam to his research – what could he really add, anyway; Sam was the one who knew what she looked like – Dean flopped down on his stomach on his bed and played on his phone, kicking his feet absently in the air.
After about fifteen minutes, something occurred to him, and he looked over at Sam. “I should totally go out tonight, right?”
“What?”
“To a bar, or something. I gotta get lucky while I’m in this body.”
Sam frowned. “You want to go to a lesbian bar?”
“No – well, I mean yeah, maybe, if there’s time before we turn me back – but nah, I was just thinking a regular bar.”
“So…you’re bi now?”
Dean didn’t really want to answer that question, because it wasn’t something he’d ever told his brother and it wasn’t like he even hooked up with guys that often, anyways. “I just think it would be really interesting to find out what it’s like to get fucked when you have a vagina! I mean, I can’t pass up this opportunity, right?”
Sam had a funny expression on his face. “So you’re just going to pick up some random guy? What if he’s an asshole? Or worse?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Sam, I might be in this body, but I’m still me. Pretty sure years of training and a lot of weapons trumps slightly less upper body strength.” Too bad you can’t just ask your baby brother to show you a good time, said the ugly little voice in his head that, after Hell, had always sounded like Alastair. Dean shoved the thought down and looked back at his phone. “So, you wanna help me find someplace that looks good?”
Sam didn’t reply, and after a minute, Dean looked up again, expecting to see Sam ignoring him, back at work on his computer. Instead, Sam was staring at Dean, looking stricken. He looked away and stood up the second Dean’s eyes met his.
“Sammy, what is it?” Dean asked. Sam’s expression had lashed him like a whip.
“I could use a walk,” Sam mumbled, picking up his jacket.
Dean jumped off the bed. “Hey, come on, man, it’s all right. If you’re really that worried about your big sister – ”
“Dean, of course I know you can look out for yourself,” Sam snapped.
“Then what?” Dean demanded, ignoring the warning instinct that told him not to push Sam on this. “You’ve been acting weird since last night. Why does this have you so freaked?”
“I’m not freaked, I’m pissed off,” Sam shouted. “Ever since you got this body you’ve been running around half-dressed – or less – and I can’t – ” He stopped abruptly.
“Can’t what?” Dean heard himself ask. His heart was hammering and his higher voice, which he still wasn’t used to, sounded like it was coming from far away.
Sam’s shoulders slumped and he stared at Dean, his eyes dark and pained. “I can’t take it anymore,” he said hollowly. “I can’t watch you parading around and know I can never…” He shut his eyes and turned away. “Dean, please. I’m begging you. Just let me go clear my head. I’ll be fine.”
Dean still wasn’t processing all of this very well, but he damn well knew Sam would not be fine. That look in his eyes told a very different story. A story Dean knew all too well.
When Sam reached for the door, Dean grabbed his wrist instinctively. Sam glared at him.
“I said let me go, Dean,” he said, and oh boy, staring up that fierce expression, the near-growl in Sam’s voice…If Dean hadn’t known how upset Sam was, he would’ve been turned on.
…He was kind of turned on anyway. Kind of a lot.
Dean realized he was just staring at Sam, mouth agape. Say something SAY SOMETHING, his brain screamed, and Dean swallowed, hard.
“Or, I mean,” Dean said. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. “You could stay, and I don’t have to go out tonight.”
Sam closed his eyes for a second. “Dean, I don’t want to stop you,” he said. “I get why you want to experience that. I do.”
“No,” Dean said insistently. “I mean…you stay, and I don’t go out, and I…I get to experience it anyway.” He felt like he was going to throw up.
Sam blinked at him slowly. “You…you want that?” he said.
Dean nodded, quickly, before he could chicken out.
“And you’re not bothered by the fact that we’re brothers?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I’m bothered. I’ll probably hate myself forever for wanting you like this, but hey, what’s one more log on that particular fire?” Dean shrugged, trying to ignore Sam’s sad expression. He always looked like that when Dean said that kind of thing; that was hardly the new territory in this conversation.
“And I never wanna see you look like that again,” Dean barreled on. “Like you did a few minutes ago.”
Sam’s brow furrowed and he gently pulled his wrist from Dean’s grasp, straightening up. “Are you just doing this for me?” he asked quietly, avoiding Dean’s eyes.
“What?” Dean said. “Of course not. I…” Sam looked at him again, and Dean gave Sam a slow once-over, for the first time letting himself think about how painfully gorgeous Sam really was, without trying to cover up the feelings or banish them to some dark corner of his mind. He met Sam’s eyes at the end, trying to let his need show in them, silently begging Sam not to make him say it.
Sam’s mouth fell open slightly. “Dean,” he said softly, and then he closed the gap between them and pushed Dean against the wall with his body, so they were pressing together.
Dean gulped and wondered if you could wreck panties by getting too wet.
“Dean,” Sam said again, in that same quiet tone, and then his huge hand was cupping Dean’s cheek, thumb brushing his cheekbone.
And then his lips were on Dean’s, nothing soft about it, and Dean was kissing him back just as hard, head craned back, throwing his arms around Sam’s neck without even thinking about it and ohgod, letting out an actual whimper.
That had to be the girl-body’s fault.
It was also, Dean decided, this body’s fault that Sam’s arms around his waist made him feel slightly faint, and that all he could think about was his breasts mashed against Sam’s broad chest (god, that chest) and that when Sam slid his leg between Dean’s, it took considerable restraint not to hump his thigh.
Sam finally let him up for some air, but Dean couldn’t catch his breath, not when Sam was immediately kissing his neck, his shoulders, his upper chest.
“Okay? You okay? This okay?” Sam kept whispering, and Dean managed to choke out a couple affirmative responses and tried to show his really, really enthusiastic consent with his hands in Sam’s hair – god, he loved that stupid, soft, too-long, perfect hair – and in his gasps and moans. Because he couldn’t really speak through this tidal wave of feeling, arousal and desire and a million other emotions so strong he half wanted to cry.
That was definitely the female hormones, right?
Sam’s lips were on his again, Sam’s tongue in his mouth, and that was Sam’s hard-on pressing into his thigh, oh god that shouldn’t turn Dean on so much but he could feel his face getting even warmer with arousal, and even the shame was just making this hotter right now.
Sam’s hand at his back was unzipping his dress and as soon as the zipper was down Dean shoved the dress off and kicked it away.
Sam took a step back and Dean panicked for a second that he’d changed his mind, but he was just looking Dean up and down, and even though Dean had been totally naked in front of him the night before, he suddenly felt way more exposed. He started to cross his arms over his chest, but Sam stepped forward and kissed him again. Dean felt like he was drowning in the smell of Sam, the taste of him. Sam’s hands were on his hips and Dean’s arms were around Sam’s neck again like this was a fucking romance novel and he was the lady about to be ravished, which – he could actually feel a throb of desire – he was.
Sam slid his hands down to cup Dean’s ass and Dean attempted to get a leg around Sam’s waist, trying to get higher so he could grind against him properly, and Sam chuckled and lifted him up like he weighed nothing.
Dean made a strangled noise and got his legs around Sam. Sam’s face was level with his tits now, and Sam nuzzled them, grinning like a fool, and the look made Dean so happy he could almost forget how crazy this was. Then Sam sucked one of Dean’s nipples into his mouth and Dean actually forgot, throwing his head back and groaning. Sam let go and went straight for the other one, grazing it with his teeth.
“Fuck,” Dean swore.
“We’ll get there,” Sam murmured, and Dean would have punched him in the arm for that, he really would have, but now Sam was walking them backwards and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Dean got his legs back under him and realized he was now straddling his brother, who had put his arms behind him, bracing them. He looked at Sam.
“Well?” Sam said, and there was a flash of vulnerability there, a little uncertainty. So Dean took a deep breath and shifted slightly, resettling himself where he wanted to be, with Sam’s hard length right between his legs. Sam’s lips parted slightly and Dean pressed against the bulge, letting his hips circle a little.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, just as Sam was saying “Oh, god,” and grabbing the back of Dean’s neck and kissing him again, hard. Dean kissed him right back but started unbuttoning Sam’s shirt, too, because it really wasn’t fair that Sam was still fully dressed.
The second it was undone, Sam shucked it, and pulled his T-shirt over his head before Dean could even start. Dean tried to look – he never got to look, he was always too busy making himself look away – but Sam was pulling him in for another long kiss, and oh, yeah, his breasts against Sam’s chest felt impossibly good; the warmth, the soft scratch of hair on his nipples…Dean could feel Sam’s dick throb even through the denim and he wondered if they could both come just from grinding up against each other this way. He sure felt like he could.
But apparently, he wasn’t going to get to find out, because suddenly Sam lifted him up again and dumped him on his back on the bed. Sam loomed over him, and Dean couldn’t keep his hands off him – his hair, his chest, his arms; god, it seemed like Sam’s arms looked even more amazing than usual right now.
Sam kissed his lips quickly and then started working his way down his body, all warm lips and tongue, and Dean felt like he was coming unglued, especially when he realized what Sam was probably working towards. After kissing Dean’s belly, Sam sat up and pulled off Dean’s boots for him, warm hands lingering on each foot for a quick rub, which felt amazing, especially after those fucking heels. Dean didn’t know how women did it all day long.
Sam ran his hands up Dean’s legs, squeezing gently, and then he hooked his fingers in Dean’s panties and started slowly pulling them down. Dean felt frozen with fear and desire.
The panties were gone and Sam was at his head again.
“Hey,” he said, doing his concerned brow furrow. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Dean squeaked out. Sam didn’t look convinced.
“You want to stop?”
“Dude, you stop now, I’ll fucking shoot you in the face,” Dean said. Sam laughed, and kissed him, and ran his hand down Dean’s chest, over his belly. When his fingers parted Dean’s slick folds and skated over his clit, Dean gasped, shutting his eyes.
Sam moved down again, kissing the hollows of Dean’s hips as his fingers explored gently, carefully.
“Open your legs more,” he murmured, and Dean complied automatically, feeling himself flush at just how fucking hot that was to hear from his brother’s lips.
Sam slid a finger into his opening and Dean made an involuntary noise and clenched around him.
“Dean, fuck,” Sam said, sounding slightly stupefied. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Gimme another,” Dean gasped out, because he really couldn’t respond to what Sam had just said.
Two fingers felt even better than one, and Dean groaned. And then he felt Sam’s hot breath across his labia, and the first touch of Sam’s tongue on his folds, and Dean was stunned into silence.
The silence didn’t last more than a couple seconds; the slow exploration of Sam’s tongue had Dean moaning and fisting a hand in the bedsheets in no time. Sam started circling his clit, and flicking his tongue over it; teasing, maddening, and Dean never wanted it to stop. Except for how he was losing his mind.
Sam didn’t let up, gradually ramping up the speed of his tongue and rubbing his fingers on Dean’s G-spot. Dean’s moans became a babble ohgodSamfuckdon’tstopohgodSammyohmyGOD until he came with a drawn-out cry, hips lifting off the bed and Sam somehow still on him, mouth and hands, and it seemed to go on and on until Dean collapsed back against the bed, breathing hard.
And even then Sam didn’t stop; he scissored his fingers inside Dean a few times and moaned against him and expertly flicked his tongue around Dean’s clit and then Dean’s second orgasm hit, almost out of nowhere, and Dean yelled again, shuddering through it.
Sam pulled back enough to kiss Dean’s inner thigh and rub his cheek on it. “One more?” he asked, voice hoarse. He moved his fingers gently inside Dean, not withdrawing, and Dean groaned, walls squeezing them automatically.
“No, man,” he said, voice breathy. “We gotta…gotta do you.”
Sam laughed softly and sat up. Dean bit back a disappointed noise when he pulled his fingers out, and instead sat up and kissed Sam hard, running his hands over Sam’s chest, which he couldn’t seem to stop touching.
“What do you want to do?” Sam asked quietly, when they’d come up for air. His forehead was on Dean’s, his arms around Dean’s waist, and Dean felt giddy.
“Wasn’t the whole point of this for me to get plowed by a hot guy?” Dean said. Sam didn’t immediately respond, and Dean frowned. “I mean, hey, if you changed your mind – ”
“No way,” Sam said. He kissed Dean fiercely, and Dean tried not to melt in his arms. This was not a romance novel, damn it. He set to work on Sam’s belt buckle instead, quickly undoing it and Sam’s jeans. He shoved the jeans down and then was a little more careful with Sam’s boxer briefs, so they wouldn’t catch on his erection.
And fuck, that…sure was an erection. Dean stared at it, trying not to drool. Sam’s cock was hard enough to cut diamonds, and all Dean could think about was getting it inside him.
“Did you change your mind?” Sam asked, misinterpreting Dean’s look.
“Fuck no,” Dean said quickly, wrapping a hand around Sam’s dick (ohgodSam’sdickwhatthefuckwhatthefuck), and Sam made a small noise, but as soon as Dean gave an experimental tug, Sam grabbed his wrist. Dean froze.
“Last thing I need is more foreplay,” Sam said, with an embarrassed grin. Dean wanted so badly to tease him for that, but it seemed kind of unfair, because he’d probably be in the same position if he still had a dick. Plus, it meant he’d get what he wanted sooner.
“Great!” he said instead, and flopped down on his back on the bed, spreading his legs wide. “Give it to me, big boy.”
Sam snorted, but he was grinning. He got up and kicked his jeans and briefs off, then rummaged in his bag.
“I really don’t think I need lube,” Dean called out.
“I’m looking for a condom.”
Dean shifted impatiently. “Look, I always wear ’em, and I just got tested a couple months ago. You don’t have to wear one for my sake.” He didn’t want to wait, and damned if he didn’t badly want Sam naked inside him, no barriers…He shoved that thought away quickly. He might be fucking his brother, but there were still limits to what he could admit to himself.
Sam had found the condoms and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “STDs weren’t my first concern, Dean.” He ripped open the condom and started rolling it slowly onto his erection, and somehow even that was crazy hot. Dean watched him.
“Then what…oh, fuck.” Dean’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Condom. Definitely. Uh, what’s the expiration date on those?”
“It’s fine. I double-checked.” Sam joined him on the bed again and kissed him fiercely. “Ready?”
Dean nodded fast, feeling unaccountably nervous. A horrifying thought occurred to him. “Oh shit, dude – what if I’m a virgin?”
“What?”
“I mean, what if I have a hymen?!”
Sam considered this. “I mean, you certainly weren’t a virgin in your own body, but…stop me if it hurts, I guess? Whether or not you think it’s from a hymen, of course. Or if you do change your mind, or…”
Dean grabbed the back of Sam’s neck and kissed him. “Shut up and fuck me, Sam.”
Sam huffed a laughed and then he was kneeling between Dean’s legs and carefully positioning his dick. Dean’s breath came faster and he forced himself to relax at the first push, which hurt just a little, but then the head was past that first ring of muscle and Sam was sinking slowly into him and jesus fucking christ this was real, this was Sam filling him up and feeling so good Dean thought he might actually die.
“God, Dean,” Sam was saying in a hoarse voice. “You’re so wet.”
Cause it’s you, Dean thought, but did not say, just stared up at Sam, his brother’s flushed skin and muscular frame, hovering above him like a fucking miracle. And Sam was inside him.
Sam was also frowning down at him, cupping his cheek. “You okay?” he said.
“Yeah,” Dean said, still feeling dazed.
“Does it hurt?”
Dean shook his head, and touched Sam’s hand that was touching his cheek, and turned his face to kiss Sam’s palm.
“Dean…” Sam said, so softly, and then he started moving, gently, and Dean sucked in a breath and his legs were wrapped around Sam’s waist in two seconds flat without him even thinking about it, pulling Sam closer, deeper. Sam groaned, pausing to move so he was holding his weight on his forearms. He leaned down and kissed Dean again, then started thrusting a little faster, breathing hard.
Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, fingers digging into his back, kissing Sam’s neck and shoulder. He knew he probably couldn’t come from just this, but fuck, it felt good, and it was Sam, who he loved more than life and who he’d maybe never loved so much as he did right now, when they were this crazy connected.
Sam’s breath was hot on his neck, and he was thrusting steadily, but he was holding back, Dean could tell, from the slick sweat on his back and the quivering muscles in his ass under Dean’s feet. Sam paused to kiss him and Dean kissed him right back, fingers tangled in Sam’s hair, but with half his mind he was thinking how he didn’t want Sam holding back.
So when Sam pulled away, Dean kept his hand on Sam’s face so Sam would look at him, and Dean looked right into his eyes.
“Harder,” he said firmly.
Sam’s eyes widened and he made a strangled noise and then he sure was going harder. Dean gasped for breath, clinging to Sam’s body, and oh, yes, this was what he’d been waiting for, each thrust a burst of pleasure inside him. He licked a couple of his fingertips and slid his hand down his body and started rubbing frantically at his clit, and it was no time at all before he was coming again, back arching and yelling out Sam’s name and not even caring.
“Dean, god,” Sam said in a choked voice, looking down at him with wide eyes. “I gotta either slow down or – ”
“Nah, nah, fuck, come in me, Sammy,” Dean babbled, barely aware of what he was saying but very sure of what he wanted, the aftershocks of the orgasm still pulsing through him, stronger from the movement of Sam’s cock inside him. Sam moaned and then he was slamming into Dean, while Dean spread his legs and gasped in pleasure, feeling his body tightening automatically, clamping down on Sam’s cock and making the movement inside him feel even fucking better, if that was possible.
Sam’s face was buried in his neck and Sam’s hips were pistoning desperately. Dean raked his nails down Sam’s back and then Sam cried out and stilled, the sound he made ending in something like a sob as he shuddered. Dean could feel him pulsing inside and he wondered if this stupid girl body was going to make him cry after all.
Sam had collapsed on top of him and was way too fucking heavy, but Dean ignored the discomfort, stroking Sam’s hair and back and feeling slightly dazed again.
After a moment, Sam sat up abruptly and slid a hand under Dean, rolling onto his side and easily bringing Dean with him, so Dean was curled up against his chest and Sam was still inside him, going soft. It felt wonderful and so fucking safe that Dean felt choked up again.
He swallowed that down and made an impatient noise. “Dude, we don’t have to cuddle.”
Evidently Sam had gotten far too good at reading him, or was just a really good guesser, because he kept his arms tight around Dean.
“How’d I do?” Sam asked.
Dean blinked. Uh, unbelievable? Mind-blowing? I may never walk straight again and I’m fucking thrilled about it? “Not bad,” he said aloud. “I can see why women like to keep you around.”
Sam laughed softly and hugged Dean even tighter. Dean felt Sam’s lips on his hair and his whole body relaxed even more. He should probably be stopping this. He knew Sam had just offered this as a one-time thing so Dean would know what it was like, and because Sam was weirdly kinda into him in girl form. He shouldn’t be letting himself get used to the feeling of Sam’s arms around him, Sam’s broad chest rising and falling against him…But Dean was asleep before he could force himself to move.
***
Part Three
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Date: 2018-11-28 01:51 pm (UTC)Love Sam's reactions to Dean as Dean goes shopping...,the panties LOL!! Dean in the bath and Sam listening, Dean trying not to 'be a romance novel' and 'melt' in Sam's arms!!! I'm a Dean girl, but I totally felt like melting against that big blond-haired chest myself.
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Date: 2018-11-29 09:43 pm (UTC)