PAIRING: John/Dean, John/Sam (kissing, no anal)
KINKS: Underage (Dean is 14, Sam 10), blowjobs, rough sex, daddykink, cross-dressing, slightly feminized Dean, kissing, public sex, drug & alcohol use
SUMMARY: "Just promise me," Dean's voice stutters and breaks as John slowly but surely works him towards an orgasm. "Just promise you won't hurt him, that you'll take good care of him."
A/N: Happy birthday, skeletncloset. Hope you enjoy your present! 2nd fic in my Little Girls & Lovers 'verse.
John has his little girl and Dean is everything he'd ever dreamed of wanting, obedient and beautifully submissive, so responsive in bed, in the shower or in the restroom of every single diner or roadhouse they stop at.
Now he wants a lover. Now he wants Sammy, even though his second son is still a month shy from turning eleven. Small in both height and weight for his age, he's all long coltish legs, slender wrists and dimples and simply gorgeous.
He's tried so hard to wait, to keep his promise to Dean by keeping his hands off Sammy. He's waited weeks and months, limiting himself to only kisses so light and fleeting they are almost chaste and the most casual of touches, a brush of fingers down Sammy's bare arm or across his cheek or the nape of his neck when Sam is bent over the Lore books he borrows from Bobby.
John finds himself hugging Sammy a little longer and a lot harder before he leaves for a hunt and yet he always makes himself go to Dean first when he returns, kisses his little girl long and hard and as dirty as he can, hands roaming under Dean's top to massage his firm pecs, sliding up his skirts and dresses to jerk him off. More often than not, he'll fuck Dean right in front of Sammy, using Dean's sweet, tight arse to distract himself. He'll bend him over the kitchen table where Sammy is studying, or cradle him in his lap on the sofa next to his brother as they watch tv, their fingers entwined and knees bumping together as Dean rides his cock or against the wall, Dean's legs hooked around John's waist. Where ever he does it, Sam is always close by, watching, listening, learning.
And Sammy keeps asking him "when?", slanted mesmerising eyes half hidden by the long glossy strands of hair that always tumble messily over his forehead. And all John can reply with is "Not yet, sweetheart," and fuck into Dean's ass or mouth even harder and "I'm sorry, honey. I promised your brother I won't touch you til you're older," and hold him in arms as he cries himself to sleep.
He's been so good, so controlled but there is absolutely no way that he is going to wait two more years to have a teenage Sammy in his bed. He just can't do it. He won't do it.
He tells Dean on the last night in February while they wait for Sammy to change after soccer practice. It's unusually warm for that time of year and they're sitting on the hood of the Impala, Dean dressed only in the smallest, tightest pair of faded, thread-bare denim shorts John could find at 'Sweet Sixteen'. The zipper has been removed for easy access which John is currently taking full advantage of. Dean is slurping on a coke slushie spiked with a few slugs of whiskey from John's flask. The alcohol hits his bloodstream fast, leaving his cheeks and the tips of his ears a delightful shade of pink.
John is smoking his usual brand of menthols and he holds the butt for Dean to take the last couple of drags. Dean has told him he hates the taste and the burn on the back of his throat and the queasy feeling in his stomach but fuck, the kid was born with lips perfectly designed for sucking and blowing and pouting, oh yeah and kissing, lots and lots of kissing. He spends the next couple of minutes working on Dean's stamina and over-coming his gag reflex, not breaking contact until they are both breathless and hard.
Parents arrive and leave, a few wandering over with their kids to exchange gossip or invite him to the next poker game or just to say hi as an excuse to have a long perv while John molests his son. Dean, adorably shy and more than a little tipsy, cuddles even closer to John's side and John kisses the top of his head and nibbles on his earlobe, tongue flicking in and out a couple of times just because he knows it drives his little girl crazy.
"You can't tell him, Dean," he whispers. "Want it to be a surprise, want it to be special."
Dean, of course, is disappointed but he knows that there is nothing he can say or do to make John change his mind so he only says "Yes, Daddy," and lifts his hips slightly so John can push a finger inside him. "Daddy?"
"Yes, baby?" He finds Dean's sweet spot and starts rubbing it, softly at first then firmer. Dean is squirming, trying to get away and he wraps his arm around Dean's waist. "Don't move. Let me make you feel good, little girl."
"Just promise me," Dean's voice stutters and breaks as John slowly but surely works him towards an orgasm. "Just promise you won't hurt him, that you'll take good care of him."
John keeps pressing, rubbing. Dean is squeezed tight around his finger, anus twitching and it feels delightful. Soft moans escape his clenched lips and John knows he's close, wonderfully close. "Of course I will, baby. Love both of you so much."
Dean comes in and over John's hand as Sam emerges from the changerooms, licks his fingers clean as Sammy runs up to them, lets John kiss him as Sammy throws himself into John's arms. John can't stop himself kissing Sammy too, getting more turned on as Sammy responds. It's sloppy and messy and unco-ordinated, what Sam lacks in technique he more than makes up for with enthusiasm.
When they finally pull apart, Sammy looks up at him with a grin so cheeky, so seductive that John just wants to kiss him all over again. "You taste weird but I like it! Can I lick Dean clean next time?"
He sweeps his tongue along his plump lower lip, catching a drop of saliva on the tip. It's both sweet and sensual and it takes all of John's self-control not to pull down Sammy's jeans and fuck him right there and then, in front of Dean, in front of his team-mates and their parents, in front of Coach Reynolds. He pictures Mary burning on the ceiling and that image is horrific enough to pull him back from the edge, just.
"Dean, get Sam in the car. Now!" he growls and Dean obeys instantly. "Back seat. You up front with me."
It's a forty minute drive back to the motel. John comes in Dean's mouth in the first five minutes, keeps Dean in place with one hand fisted loosely in his hair. His cock is limp and soft and Dean's mouth is just short of heaven but he still wants to fuck Sammy's brains out.
He plants the boys in front of the tv with a family sized pepperoni and cheese pizza and two sticks of garlic bread and takes a long, icy cold shower, managing one quick and fumbling handjob. It's all for naught though when he sees Sam and Dean, pressed close together, feet and legs entwined, feeding each other, fingers and chins dripping with melted butter and cheese, his cock going from zero to a hundred and fifty in two seconds flat. One of Sam's hands is resting casually between Dean's bare thighs and Dean's head is on Sam's shoulder, eyes closed in contentment as Sam slips a thin slice of meat into his mouth.
"Dean," he barks. "Want you cleaned up and in my bed in thirty, girl."
Dean untangles himself from his brother and stands. "Yes, Daddy." He goes past John and into the bathroom without looking back and comes out naked twenty seconds later.
"On your belly, baby," John says from the doorway as Dean lays down. "Use a pillow. You know how I like it."
He searches through his medkit for sleeping pills, finds the small vials of liquid valium and rectal syringe instead and can't resist sedating Sam that way. "Putting it in your bottom works a lot faster, kiddo," he explains as he spreads Sam's cheeks and carefully inserts the tip of the syringe just inside. Sam flinches a little at being penetrated but doesn't complain. John presses the plunger slowly, squirting the liquid into Sammy's rectum.
"Oh, that's cold, Daddy," he says, eyelids already drooping.
"I know but feels good too, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, real good."
John cuddles him for the few minutes it takes for Sam to fall asleep then carries him to the other bed. "Sweet dreams, Sammy."
Five minutes later, John gives Dean his first taste of weed, gets him wonderfully high then fucks him for hours on end. In the hour before dawn, he spoons up behind Dean as he slowly comes back to reality, wraps arms and legs around him, pushes back inside and tells him all the things he plans on doing with Sam.