verucasalt123 | Wishlist ficlet for peepingdru

Title: Stocking Stuffers
Pairing: Dean/Sam (underage)
Rating: NC-17
W/C: ~750
A/N: written for

wishlist_fic prompt Weecest, Sammy's in Dean's xmas stocking bearing naughty gifts

It's Christmas Eve Eve, and I'm posting the last of my wishlist fics for our wonderful dru. Honey, you have always been a wonderful and inspiring cheerleader for me. I really hope you like the story.

“Got somethin’ for you, Dean.”

Dean recognized the tone of voice and the look on Sam’s face. It was familiar by now.

“Come on, Sam, Dad’s gonna be back in, like, half an hour.”

“It’s just a little preview”, Sam replied, reaching back and showing Dean a bright red Christmas stocking with white furry stuff around the top of it. He tossed it onto his brother’s lap, along with a stack of those little lined three by five index cards and a pen. “Christmas is in a week, so you’ve got some time. Start filling up that stocking with your Christmas list. We’ll have plenty of time alone, ‘cause you know the minute he’s graced us with his obligatory presence for the day, Dad’s gonna take off again right afterward.” The ensuing eyeroll and barely-hidden sadness were clear in Sam’s sixteen year old expression. And this year, they actually had a good reason to want to be alone for a few days at a time.

“So, what, they’re like wishes? Dear Santa, remember that time I asked you for a baby sister? Thanks. This one’s real pretty and likes to make grand romantic gestures”.

Sam laughed then, but still threw a book at Dean’s head. “Hey, you want romance”? It’s your call. You just write down what you want, and I’ll give it to you. Or, you know, let you give it to me”, he finished, still with that smug look that seemed to come naturally for every teenager on the planet.

Then he just turned and walked back out to the living room, clicked on the television and casually propped his feet up onto the arm of the sofa. Even with his head all the way on the opposite side, Sam had gotten so tall this past year that he couldn’t get his whole body on there without his calves and feet hanging over the edge.

Dean looked back at the items in his hand, and went to work.

Christmas day was a typical Winchester holiday celebration. Dad ordered them Chinese take-out, an exceptionally rare treat, and despite Dean’s certainty that his father wouldn’t have done it, he’d even handed them both one wrapped gift each. A peace offering, Dean thought, before he made his excuses and headed back out into the night, leaving his sons alone again.

They waited the obligatory one-hour-don’t get-caught-incase-he-comes-back-for-something before Sam asked him to hand over the stocking. The disappointment on his face was evidence as he read the first two cards.

Wash the Impala

Laundry duty for a week

At Sam’s exaggerated sigh, Dean encouraged him. “Get another one.”

Oh.

Suck me off in the shower

Sammy smiled, flashing his dimples and that sly look he got when things turned to his advantage. Clearly, he wanted to give this particular gift to Dean immediately.

Dean let himself get manhandled into the bathroom. They both undressed quickly and were under the spray of inconsistent lukewarm water before they knew it.

All Dean could do right that minute was to watch as Sam go onto his knees, holding on to Dean’s leg and using the other to guide Dean’s cock into his mouth. He knew all the tricks by now, everything his brother liked and exactly the way that he liked it.

Angling his head so it rested against the cold tile of the shower, he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the ride, stealing occasional glances down at the irresistibly gorgeous picture of Sammy with his mouth full of dick and his hand steadily pumping his own erection. When he was just about to come, he gave Sam the familiar warning, curling his fists into Sam’s hair. Not that it made any difference, it wasn’t like Sam was going to pull away until he was sure he’d satisfied Dean completely. When his orgasm escaped him, Dean let out a low moan and a quiet “Fuck, Sammy…” while Sam stayed still and swallowed every drop as his own release covered his hand.

Standing up with the assistance of steadying himself by grabbing onto Dean’s arm, he whispered “Water’s getting cold, man, come on, let’s get out of here.”

Later, when they were dried off and watching Die Hard 2, Sam started drifting off to sleep with his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Rest up, Sammy. I’ve still got three more cards in that stocking.”