Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yes, Sam is grieving. His girlfriend, his hopes, his normal life, his – a lot of things, really. So if he's bitchy, Dean lets him. Not like he has a ton of memories of that age, but he's pretty sure dad wasn't the kindest soul fresh off mom's death, either. You could argue he's never been since, except in fit and bursts, but anyway – even if he doesn't want his baby brother to turn into dad 2.0, despite the demon's best efforts, Dean gets it. Sam's entitled to his moods. A lot of them.

It's just – if Sam turns on Dean for his food choices, or even for being dad's obedient little soldier, or anything like that, Dean lets him grouse. You can't win against Sam's sharp tongue anyway, you can only make things worse.

When Sam bitches that they should find a legit job and not live off scams and hustling...finally, one day, the hypocrisy is so huge that he laughs at his brother.

“What?” Sammy sounds half taken aback, half pissy.

“Honest work. Sure. Miss the career you had going there, Sammy? And before you answer, no, I don't mean being some hotshot lawyer with a white fence. I mean the job you actually did.”

“I dunno what you mean.” That's how they've been raised. Deny, deny, deny, no matter how obvious the issue is. Bullshit your way through with a completely straight face.

“You know when I say I didn't bother you in two years? Two, not four? What did you think I was talking about?” Dean retorts.

Sam shrugs. “That you'd been too pissed off for the first two years to even consider talking to me, and after, you decided to restrain yourself.”

Dean laughs again, too sharp. “Oh come on Sammy. You can't tell me you didn't know. I heard you, and more than once. Then again, I don't exactly go for the most imaginative nicknames.”

“Nickn...” Sam blanches. “No. You wouldn't. You don't -”

“I won't make sure you have the money you need? Or won't keep you safe by monopolizing you if necessary? Or I won't push you when you need a lesson?”

Sam's mouth, who'd remained gaping, poor baby unable to compute, snaps closed. When Dean puts it like that, it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“But that was s- I mean, it was-” Before Sam can settle on a word to describe their long distance relationship, Dean cuts in again.

“It was what you chose to make of it. I mean, don't tell me someone forced you to, Sammy. You can kick anyone's ass and you know it, too.”

At that, Sam nods. Nobody makes him do anything, and certainly not that. No risk of a refusal ending up in a fight was one of the reasons he'd picked the webcam option.

“Well then, if you were okay with it before, I don't know why you're trying to pretend you didn't know what you were doing now. All I wanted was you to stop being a judgmental asshole lest you be judged...but maybe your problem is that I've neglected you for two years?”

“What do you mean?” Sam breathes.

“I mean kneel, Sammy. Be the good little whore we both know you can be, and don't you worry your pretty head about a thing. Big brother's here to take care of all your needs. It's only fair you do what you do best, right?”

A punch honestly wouldn't surprise him. A shove, too, a snarled reply, or even Sam stalking out of the room. Instead, his twink baby brother's face goes white, then red, then he does kneel, eyes on the floor. Dean could cum on the spot. Instead, he purrs, “My good boy. Want a taste?”

“Want,” Sam replies, sounding a little dazed already. It's the first time they'll actually touch like that, but his mouth falls open, tongue out. Dean groans, gets his cock out and feeds it to his brother.

“There, there. You needed it.” Or he needed it, had needed it for years. It was one thing to have the videos and his fervent imagination. This? This is heaven. He will take care of Sammy...as soon as the boy helps him take the edge off, so he can fully focus on what his brother needs. With Sam's hot wet mouth enveloping him, and the way the boy is sucking like it's summer in Texas and he got a hold of the very last lollipop, it's not going to take long.