#wincest kisses

[unsurprisinglyren]

Pre-series head canon; just before Sam is set to leave for Standford, Dean makes his move and forever changes the relationship between them.

What was between them, this twisted-up, perverse pleasure, nightly escapades and stolen glances, it was strung too tightly between them. A silk thread, poised to break. Delicate and beautifully brittle.

A glimmer of cobwebs stretched between Sam’s ribcage.

A gleam of gluttony in Dean’s gaze. Warm and improper; a secret held delicately between them both.

It had started innocuously enough. Not quite innocent. A press of Dean’s bicep against Sam’s arm as they sat side by side in an out of the way diners booth. Dad opposite them; talking some plan. A hunt. The typical salt-and-burn.

And Dean had felt the way Sam’s body had tensed. Saw the flicker of his eyelashes as he glanced first to dad, then down at his thick shake. The bright red straw, the ring of condensation left on the hard plastic tabletop when he lifted the drink to his lips.

And Dean had stared. Watching the way his little brother pursed his lips around the end of the straw, the way his cheeks hollowed out with each suck. The slurp and slosh of the milk shake. The very obvious obliviousness Sam was displaying.

The next time Dean had pressed his thigh hard up against Sam’s, instead. This time they were in a dingy cafe. Rundown. The waitstaff tired-eyed and slow-moving. It was late, or early, almost dawn. Not quite.

Sam had stiffened again, like last time. A slow tightening down the length of his spine. And something in Dean shifted, come undone. A slippery sort of emotion; a little like fondness, a lot like control.

A twisted sort of control. Where he used physical touch - wholly different than the usual shove or slap on Sam’s shoulder - this touch was private. Secluded. A brush of the back of his knuckles across Sam’s knee under the table. A lean into his personal space on the pretence of reaching for the sugar.

“Coffees too bitter.” He’d said, sparing Sam a glance and nothing more.

Sam didn’t rebuke it. Didn’t saying “but you like your coffee strong”. He sat very still and quiet, and let his big brother play.

It was only after dad and Sam had come to verbal blows about school and Sam’s future, that Dean ramped things up. There was a time limit now. He couldn’t lazily take his time; a touch here, a long look there. Couldn’t play this thing out slowly and sweetly, so he acted on impulse, beer sitting like a slosh of liquid courage and nausea in the pit of his gut.

He’d found Sam in the motel bathroom, red-rimmed eyes, cheeks rawed from crying. And really, Sam was wholly different than him and dad. Too soft. Too emotional.

Yet, despite dad’s opinion drilled into the very marrow of his bones - emotions are weakness - Dean rather liked the pinked cheeks and over-bright gaze.

“Come to have a go, too?” Sam had twisted up his mouth like he was biting back more words. Dean knew he wasn’t swallowing down the threat of fresh tears instead.

He stepped forward, casting a single look over his shoulder, but the motel room was empty, dad had taken off for some air. Hah. A stiff drink, more likely.

And Dean didn’t have a hope of convincing Sam to stay. Sam had made up his mind years ago. It was only a matter of time before dad and him went up like a powder keg, sparked and aflame and Dean stepped another step closer.

Sam’s gaze faltered, a little line of apprehension forming between his eyebrows. He didn’t understand what Dean was doing. His intentions. And to a degree Dean didn’t either. He was running on pure impulse and the dizzying need to close out this game of theirs before time was up.

“Dean?”

“Shut up.” It wasn’t meanly said. A breath. Quiet between them.

Shut up because it hurts to hear your voice.

Shut up because I’m mad at you. You’re going to leave me here with dad.

Shut up so I can kiss you.

And he did; a fumble of his fingers, outstretched, catching at the lapel of Sam’s jacket, drawing him in a step, another, until their toes bumped together, socked-feet, a rush of Sam’s breath, then Dean angled him down with a sharp tug at his jacket; and Sam went easily. Bending, dipping into the kiss like he’d expected it.

He hadn’t. Dean knew he hadn’t by the way his lips were trembling under Dean’s. Warm and not-quite pliant. But it changed swiftly, a lick of Dean’s tongue, just the tip, against Sam’s bottom lip. He tasted of salt from his tears. And something warmer. Heady and sweet and all Dean’s.

Sam opened for him; warmth and slickness and the barest little shudders of his body. It was enough. It had to be enough. It was chaste, broken by the sound of the impala’s engine, the slam of the drivers side door, the subsequent jangle of keys.

They broke apart just as dad entered. But it had been enough. The spark to light a bonfire. A pyre of wrongness and debauchery, yet oh so addictive.

A question that was left hanging between them, unanswered.

[tsukiyo-7]

I go off like a gun,

Like a loaded weapon,

Bang, bang, bang,

Grip me in your hands...

So here we go again,

It echoes in my head,

Bang, bang, bang,

Grip me in your hands...

So I can feel you here with me...

Soaked in sin,

Baptized by your kiss and now I'm born again.

[waywardsamdean]

THE damsel in distress of supernatural

[samdeancrimespree]

the difference between sam and dean is that in the phrase “incestuous romantic relationship” sam cringes at incestuous and dean cringes at romantic.

i think he’d be maybe a little weirded out but not that embarrassed if he just. wanted to fuck his brother. like… have you seen his brother? who doesn’t wanna fuck him.

no.. dean’s embarrassed because the thought of his brother not wanting to fuck him makes his heart actually hurt, which he thought was just an overdramatic romcom line. because if he fucked his brother and his brother wanted to keep it casual, it would destroy him.

he doesn’t just want to fuck his brother. he wants to sleep next to him and kiss him and play with his stupid hair and grow old with him and die in his arms.

dean doesn’t wanna fuck his brother. he wants to make love to his brother. and that makes his skin crawl.

[jayjay-thejet-plane]

a smol wincest smooch animation made on flipnote! (yes the one on nintendo ds😗)

some stills below in case anyone is interested in that

[flowersintheimpala69]

So insane that deans siren isn’t just Sam but the person the siren makes Dean kill, who for all the other victims has been their wives/gfs, is also sam. Sam is deans greatest desire and his gf according to Sex and Violence. Insane.

[my-prompt-dump]

No but. Sam and Dean going to an event (concert or a sports game?) with a fuckin jumbotron. And suddenly it’s those Kiss Cams segment and it lands on them. Sam was about to shake his head and say that’s his brother but Dean just pulls him in unexpectedly and made out with him on live fucking television in front of hundreds of people

the crowd cheers snd whistles and Dean is so proud of himself that he doesnt notice Sam gaping like a fish, beet red from head to toe

[lambmotifz]

sam isn’t an alpha, he’s a feral, rebellious omega. you know this stereotype that all omegas are sexually passive and naturally submissive? sam never fitted into the ideal omega image and he only willingly submits to his mate (dean), no one else

[sluttyimpala]

need to start tagging every wincest post with "source: eric kripke" because nobody wanted to see those boys fuck raw more than him

[itsjustwincest]

They're sitting in the bathroom. Dean is perched on the toilet seat in his boxers, his ruined jeans tossed into the tub so they don't drip blood anywhere else. Sam's at his feet, fumbling with an ace bandage. His hands are clean, but only up to his forearm; everything past that is caked in blood and grime. When he'd taken a moment to wash up, his only priority had been to keep Dean's new stitches clean.

The cut is deep and about four inches long and took seven stitches to seal properly, but Sam is used to this process and the sutures are clean and even. The scar won't be bad.

That doesn't keep the worry entirely at bay.

He's careful as he wraps up Dean's calf. They're silent as he works; there's nothing to say that hasn't already been said.

You were stupid to take that hit.

Better me than you.

He doesn't know why he does it, but as he tucks the bandage into itself, he leans to the side and presses a kiss to the inside of Dean's knee. It just feels like the natural thing to do. His tongue darts out briefly to taste sweat and blood and dirt before he shifts to Dean's other knee.

Dean freezes over him. It's then that Sam realizes that he's kissing Dean, and he freezes too, holding his breath as he waits for Dean's reaction.

He expects his brother to laugh it off, or maybe ignore him entirely. Instead, Dean reaches for him.

"C'mere, Sammy."

[chocolate-milkuwu]

[waywardsamdean]

Dee smooches!!

[samdeancrimespree]

there’s something about wincest in the pre-slash era (whenever that is) where i think the dynamic is: one of them does not have sex with men. doesn’t think of them that way, because it feels too dangerous, too easy to slip into those fantasies he keeps locked away. and the other one fucks guys, but only ones who are eerily similar, carbon copies to his brother. the type of resemblance that would turn most siblings off. and the roles could go either way, for either of them. just… the dynamics of the different types of desperate “unrequited” feelings and the way they try to get away from them.

like. dean getting drunk and making out with some tall, long haired guy at a bar. nasty desperate hands down the back of the guys jeans, stifling a sigh that his ass isn’t quite round enough to be sam’s. he has blue eyes, not brown, but dean isn’t looking at his face anyway. fucking not-sam rough in the back of the impala, moaning baby and cutting off before brother, saying sam’s name when he cums, trying not to stare at the army figure in the ashtray. hating himself for it, swearing off it, but always crawling back, chasing the high like an addict. feeling deep in his soul that sam was right to leave, that he’s better off without his sick freak of a brother.

sam being into girls with short hair, accidentally hitting on lesbians because he struggles to be attracted to anything not wearing a crew cut, flannel and work boots. he’s sick, he knows, that’s part of why he had to leave. frosh week drunk, he lets a guy flirt with him, because he’s just tall enough, just different enough, that sam can give himself plausible deniability. his lips are too thin, he’s too gentle, he smells like axe and fake leather, but sam needs something, and this is all he can get. it’s going fine, until the guy— too late now to ask his name— goes for sam’s belt and sam feels like he’s going to puke. the wrongness of it comes over him all at once, like a fever or a hex. clarity pierces his drunken state: not dean’s hands, not dean’s voice, not dean, wrong. at least it gives him an excuse to back out, a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and sit on the floor, trying to determine if the dry heaving is cheap beer or grief.

girls are— safe. long hair, soft hands, sweet and gentle and nowhere close to 6’1. this way, there’s nothing reminding sam of the absence, nothing pushing against the barrier he’s made around what he really wants. he can be normal.

he knows it’s dean after the first strike, knows his footsteps and his breath and the outline of his shoulders, even now, even in the dark. but sam doesn’t stop fighting, because he’ll have to stop touching dean, and sam can allow himself this one thing, after so long. dean’s leather jacket on sam’s bare arms is making him dizzy, and sam lets dean take him down, the beginning and end of sam’s understanding of desire. a reminder, familiar like dean’s rough palms on his wrists, his weight pinning sam, his shit-eating grin and drawled easy, tiger; sam has never been normal.

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

1.01, "Pilot" | Stephen Adly Guirgis, "The Last Days Of Judas Iscariot" " | 5.22, "Swan Song"

[fallenfar]

Happy Barn scene wincest day! <333

To the epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester, the beautiful, codependent soulmates blowjob brothers, the otp of otps who are fucking in their shared heaven right now.

Real love always win. ;)

[samofmine]

how many times do you think sam used "please? for me?" on dean? especially growing up, batting his eyelashes and giving him the Puppy Eyes™️ and acting like he could fit in dean's pocket?

can't we stay here for another month? will you please ask dad? please? for me?

can you cancel your date and stay in tonight? please? for me?

and dean didn't even stop to think about it before he did what sammy asked because there's nothing sam could ever ask of him he wouldn't do or give or kill but at the same time he would get so annoyed because sam knew exactly the power he had over him. but eventually he came to terms with it and got used to the idea of having sammy as both a brother and a religion and just accepted his fate.

"please? for me?"

"amen."