Cyndra Rae (cyndrarae) wrote,
Cyndra Rae

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SPN fic: Wag the Winchesters

Title: Wag the Winchesters
Fandom/Verse: SPN (could be set possibly anywhere)
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6800+
Warnings: wincest, tail!kink
Summary: slashfestcommunity challenge: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester - Dean 'forgets' to mention the side effects when he has Sam perform a banishment ritual. Now Sam has a tail to hide until the next new moon and Dean has discovered a new kink - tail!kink! Request by darkhavens
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing from SPN. No money is being made off this.
Author Notes: Written for slashfest challenge round V. Un-beta’d because I ran out of time. Apologies, please let me know if you see any mistakes. 


When the smoke cleared and Sam stopped coughing, he scanned the packing warehouse one more time. Yep, the nest was destroyed and so was the Kracchen demon, fugly slimy corporeal bastard. The people of Mariposa ought to be forever grateful which they won’t of course since they’ll have no frigging clue. Sam clapped his jeans down to get rid of fried demon dust, turned around and frowned. Dean was supposed to be right beside him.

“Dean? … What are you…? Dean, why are you hiding under that bubble wrap sheet?”

Dean stood up and grappled with the plastic for a couple of seconds before he could fully extricate himself. When he finally had both feet on the ground, he grinned, oddly, then checked his little brother out from head to toe. Sam blushed.

“Dude, not here!”

“Did you get demon goo on you anywhere?”

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “What do you mean demon goo?”

“You know… like demon blood or spit or intestines or something. You blew him up right?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “To smithereens.” Bent down to pick up his machete and remnants of their ritual supplies. “You’ve been so weird about this one.”

Dean bit his lip. “Uh, it’s nothing.” Started helping Sam with getting their stuff together and then they walked out of the warehouse toward the Impala parked in the back.

“It’s just that last time me and dad did this banishment ritual, it left us with some very… interesting side effects.”

Sam stopped, turned and glared at his brother. “Side effects. And you’re telling me this now?”

Dean grinned. “Hey someone had to do it. Better you than me!”

Sam scowled. “Good thing I didn’t get affected Dean or you’d be picking your ass out of demon faeces right now.”

Started walking away from his jerk of a brother and Dean snorted after him. “Hey, it’s not a big deal. Kracchens like to leave parting gifts… bless you with a physical feature of theirs for awhile, that’s all!”

Sam rolled his eyes and opened the trunk. They dumped their weapons and stuff into it and slammed it shut. He didn’t believe Dean for a second, was probably just bullshitting to try and freak little bro out.

“Like his purplish scales or his red slitted eyes or…”

Sam smirked, “No thanks. I’m a handsome devil as is.”

Opened his car door and folded himself in. But before Dean could do the same, he yelped, no, squawked… and shot right back out.

“Sammy? What is it?”

Stood frozen next to the car, facing away from his brother, both hands grabbing his own butt. Slowly, cautiously, he craned his neck back grimacing… praying that he was mistaken, or dreaming, preferably all of the above. Dean tilted his head downward to follow his gaze as well, and made his yikes-face.

“Handsome devil you say?”



That night Sam lay on his stomach in his queen-sized bed, naked under the covers.

He’d just spent an hour in the bathroom washing all evidence of the ritual from his body in hopes that the… thing… would wash away too. Of course, no such luck. Au contraire, it was growing, like an inch every hour until it dangled all the way down to his mid-thighs. He didn’t want to wear anything below because apparently the damn thing didn’t like being constrained and also his tailbone was aching under the new, unnatural weight. Then figured there was no point wearing just a tee shirt to bed either and discarded that as well.

“Can I see it?”

Sam threw a pillow at the source of that voice. “Fuck off!”

Dean just sniggered a little, sat on the other bed with his elbows resting on his knees and looked at his little brother curiously.

“Oh c’mon. Can’t be that bad.”

“You’re the reason I’m in this mess Dean so if you know what’s best for you, just get the hell out of here.”

“Hey I told you to take cover…”

“But you didn’t say why!” Sam propped himself up on an elbow itching for a fight. “You conveniently omitted this tiny detail and now look what’s happened.”

“You’re not letting me look…”

“Shut up!”

Sam flopped back on the bed, glaring athames at his older brother and Dean bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing. Got off his bed and kneeled next to Sam’s, who inched farther away from him, pouting so hard his face hurt.

Dean had that look on his face… that thing he did with the eyes and the smile and the velvety voice when he solicited a female civilian. Damn that look. Sam had his woeful puppy dog eyes of doom, and Dean had his sultry bedroom eyes that could beguile the most frigid of bitches Sam included. Hell, he couldn’t even look away.

“C’mon baby boy, show daddy what it looks like will ya?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Jeez, don’t tell me you think it’s hot!?”

Dean just grinned widely, “What can I say, I’m an experimental type of guy.”

He put a hand on Sam’s back, caressing ever so softly just the way his brother liked, making Sam’s lower lip jut out a whole lot more. It meant Sam was considering it.

“It’s fugly.”

Dean chuckled. “Dude you could be a Kracchen from head to toe and you still won’t be anywhere in the vicinity of fugly.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “And now you’re creeping me out.”

“Oh come on, it’s obvious you like the idea, and that thing does too.”


Dean indicated southward of Sam with an eyebrow and Sam followed his gaze. The thing was straight up in the air and wagging happily, bedsheets and all.


Next thing he knew, Dean had been socked in the face and his ass delivered to the floor while Sam turned the other away and buried himself under the covers, sulking harder than ever before. No doubt also holding the thing down between his curled up legs.

Dean nursed his sore eye and cursed right back at Sam, then shut up when he realized it was obviously not helping his intentions to get lucky tonight. And he really, really did want to see that thing on Sammy’s ass.

“Okay first of all, OW. Second, you can’t kick me out of bed till next full moon? Dude! I have needs and wants and if they’re not satisfied you know I turn into this sexually frustrated monster who plays nasty pranks on idiotic little brothers and…”

Sam mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘blah blah blah’ from under the covers and Dean halted mid-rant.

“Speak up Sammy, I can’t make head or tail of what you’re sayin…”

Sam emerged from his cocoon, scowling. “Ha ha. Keep those funnies comin’ Dean, get your sorry ass laid by next decade for sure.”

Dean climbed up to his knees and went toward Sam, licking his lips.

“Okay here’s the deal,” Dean leaned on his elbows resting next to Sam and whispered in a tone that was semi-conspiratorial.

“I’ll tell you what happened to me, last time me and dad did this ritual. It’s a really funny and uhh… embarrassing story, you don’t want to miss it! What do you say, huh?”


Dean peeled back the covers and revealed the object of his so far blind fascination to his eyes.


Sam just groaned and covered his head with a pillow, cursing his brother’s persistent (read: pushy) powers of persuasion. His whole body was stretched taut and quivering under the warm touch of his brother’s hands.

Sam’s tailbone seemed to have basically extended out from the point at which his spine ended. The skin had broken to let it through, but instead of bleeding like a fresh wound it had just shriveled up like an old healed one. It was a rat-like tail, only firmer, covered with thin, ridged scales arranged in concentric circles, no bone and all muscle, maybe an inch in diameter and about fifteen inches long already. And still growing.

“Does it hurt?”

Dean asked, fingering the strange, demonically anatomic joint at the base of Sam’s spine delicately. Sam just shook his head under the pillow, all he felt was an earth-shattering amount of mortification.

The thing was dark purplish in color, like an engorged cock, which made Dean almost giggle, but he refrained like the mature adult he was supposed to be. And then he discovered there was something a whole lot more interesting about this thing… the tail almost had a temperament of its own, and attached to Sam it was wired straight into both Sam’s physical sensations and sexual feelings.

“Ah!” Sam jumped when he felt Dean’s warm grip close around the joint at his coccyx and start stroking back and forth. Arched up and tried to catch his breath wondering why his heart was racing so hard.

“So sensitive… like a little catholic girl.”

Sam moaned, partly at the bad simile and mostly because Dean had casually slid his fist down to the very end, the little triangular, almost conical bit sparsely covered in fur and with an extra fold of skin around it and… Gawd!

“How does that feel, Sammy?”

Sam practically mewled, shocked at the sensations when Dean held the end in between two fingers and a thumb and massaged it lovingly.

“Oh fuck! Dean… what are you doing to me?”

He literally arched off the bed into and away from the caress all at once and Dean put his free hand at the small of his back to push him back down. His own breaths were ragged because seeing Sam react like this was turning him on like nothing else.

“Looks like you got blessed with another funky family jewel kid.”

Blessed was not the word Sam would use. He just glowered and propped himself up on his elbows, his mouth falling open as he gasped. Dean’s other hand slipped down to his buttocks, petting and rubbing alternately until he heard Sam grunt like he was struggling for control.

“Let it go, baby boy. I got you.”

Another whimper and Sam collapsed back on the bed letting Dean part his cheeks and circle the little opening with a fingertip. The other hand continued to play with the conical end like it was his favorite toy in the whole damn world.

“Hmm… you know what this thing looks like? Here at the tip?”

“Aargh! What…”

“A butt plug.”

Sam froze, his eyes slapping open and he twisted his neck to look over his shoulder at Dean.

“Dean. NO.”

“I’ll use lube?”

“NO!” Sam tried to turn around but Dean chuckled and leaned over him preventing him from doing so, making him growl.

“Get off!”

“I’m trying to! Sammy, be a sport come on, please?”

Dean whined like a brat in a candy store and very insistently at that. He kissed the back of Sam’s neck, suckling and nipping right under the curls of his hair until Sam surrendered to the pleasurable sensations.

“I hate you,” he hissed with no malice in it and Dean grinned, lapping a wet trail down his neck along the length of his vertebrae until he was back at the tailbone.

“Trust me Sammy, I’m gonna make you feel so so good…”

He reached for the bedside drawer where they kept the lube and condoms and pulled a little tube out. Dropped a generous dollop onto the tail making Sam shudder with the hot-and-cold tingling. That thing sure was hotwired straight to his groin, Sam could feel his shaft swelling up and he vigorously humped against the bedsheets.

Dean could’ve sworn the thing grew another inch or so under his ministrations. He was completely captivated with it and the mind-blowing effects it was having on Sammy. Took more lube on two fingers before inserting them inside Sam, preparing him for penetration. Obviously the thing did not have Dean’s… ahem, girth, and Sam was stretched plenty in the afternoon, so it didn’t take too long to fit three fingers in with ease. He teased the sweet spot a couple of times making Sam quiver and mewl some more.

“Dude, do what you want quickly before I lose it.”

“Patience baby boy, keep your tail on.”

Sam growled but pushed back into the fingers fucking him leisurely. Soon Dean positioned the end of the tail at the opening and started to push it in little by little.

“Oh fuck!! Oh my… holy… oh FUCK!!!”

Sam arched up taut as a bowstring as the long, slender and flexible tail curved its way through this rectum and went deeper than anyone else has before. The texture was firm and ridged that teasingly slid against his prostate again and again, sparking off a thousand nerve explosions in every corner of Sam’s over-heated body. The dual sensation felt like fucking and being fucked all at once.


It felt like he was gently but surely fucking his own brains out.

Dean stretched out beside him, and rolled Sam to his side, not once losing grip of the Kracchen’s gift as he pushed in then pulled it out rhythmically. Sam was obviously pre-occupied and let Dean arrange him so they were lying on the bed facing each other. Dean unzipped himself and pulled his own erection out. At the sound of the zipper Sam realized what the plan was and threw his arms and legs around Dean wrapping himself tight around his brother. Which brought both their shafts flush against each other in one electrifying jolt and they collectively gasped.

“Oh God, Sammy… you look so fucking hot like this.”

“Less talk more fucking.”

“Ahh! Sir yes sir.”

They humped and moved and stroked against each other as Dean continued to fuck Sam’s ass with his own… thing. There were so many simultaneous sensations that Sam thought he would go insane if he tried to hold on any longer. He climaxed with a loud feral howl, and Dean followed right after. Panting, whimpering, gasping for dear life.

In the aftermath, Dean’s hands shook as badly as the rest of him and his handle on the thing slipped. The tail popped out after a few seconds on its own making Sam moan again before he buried his face in Dean’s chest.

“Man, that was…” Sam thought about it, decided not to admit Dean was right. “… different.”

Dean grinned. “What do I always tell you huh?” Drawled in his best Southern accent, “That sure is a fine piece of tail you got there, Sammy.”

Sam punched him weakly, still trying to catch his breath.

“So what happened?”


“When you did the ritual?”

Dean scratched his head, trying to rouse himself from his pleasure-filled stupor. “Oh that. I got horns.”

Sam frowned and looked up at him. “Horns?”

Dean grinned and licked his lips. “Yeah. Two of them, little baby ones on my head. Like the devil you know, all red and pointy and angry lookin’.”

“Well… how did you hide it?”

“Ah it was easy, I had this bangs and fringes look back then remember? Plus you can’t make anything out under a wide Stetson hat. Good thing we were in Texas then. You’d think the chicks would be tired of the old routine but no, they totally dig the cowboy thing man.”

Dean just kept on going.

“These two girls I met? A couple of wild things they were dude, and lucky me, they insisted I keep the hat on, while we did it. It was awesome. And then this one time in Ohio? This seriously hot chick came up to me, stoned out of her mind. And in the heat of the moment I lost the hat, and she put her hands in my hair…”

He paused for dramatic effect, but completely missed the clouds gathering on Sam’s face.

“And she felt them! And I started freaking out thinking she was gonna scream or something, and it was too late to make another score you know. But then she just went, ‘cool!’ and that was also so awesome, dude you shoulda…”

That was when Dean finally bothered to notice Sam’s deadly glare, and bit his lip. This was not what Sam was looking for… Dean fucking other people and Dean totally getting a better deal than a hard to hide horny tail… not a funny combination at all.

Sam scowled. “How is that embarrassing, Dean?”

Dean licked his lips again and smirked. “I didn’t say it was embarrassing for me.”

It took Sam a whole three seconds to get it. And then he socked Dean in the other eye before shoving him off the bed.


Three mornings later after breakfast, Dean pulled Sam out of bed (where he was planning to get comfortable on his stomach like he’d done for the last few days), and threw Sam’s baggiest pair of sweats at him.

“Get dressed.”

“What for?”

“We’re going grocery shopping. Better stock up, seeing as we’re holing up here for two weeks.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest and toed the carpeted floor, his face contorted into a solid pout.

“You go. I don’t wanna…”

Dean snorted. “Dude you can’t hide in here forever, besides it’s slim and long enough to dangle down one of your pants leg. No one will know.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

Dean rolled his eyes. This was classic Sammy from pre-Stanford era… resorted to childish tactics absolutely impossible to reason with. He realized how extremely effective that trick still was.

“Baby boy, you get your gorgeous ass into those sweats now before I use your shiny new appendage as a tool for pain instead of pleasure.”

Sam snorted, loudly, mocking his big brother.

“You wouldn’t.”

Twenty minutes later, Dean was pushing a trolley between the dairy aisle and the frozen foods aisle in the local Sears. Sam walked beside him, his hands buried in pockets of his navy blue sweats, ill-fitted and clenched tightly at his waist because they really were too big for him. Dean was right, no one noticed the thing in his pants, even though he did catch a couple of girls checking out the other thing in his pants. He figured unless it twitched by a will of its own (which could happen if Dean started messing with him right here), his secret should be safe.

Sam wore the matching jacket and also a black skullcap holding his unruly hair down. Dean was dressed comfortably in black sweatpants and just a white tee shirt. Far as he was concerned, it was way too hot for a jacket but whatever, he thought, Sam was an idiot. He studied his little brother’s profile as Sam concentrated on the label of a Greek yoghurt carton.

“I see you’ve developed a liking for retail stores.”

Sam scowled at his brother with all the vehemence he could muster, which wasn’t much. Three days of Dean’s relentless stream of ‘not-intended’ puns and entendres had started to wear him down, to a point where he’d actually laughed at a few himself. But not this one.

“Getting old Dean, so very old. And rusty. And moldy.”

Dean chuckled shortly, turned back to the aisle laden with all sorts of meats.

“Yeah well so will you, if you keep hiding in that room with no sun for fifteen days.”

Sam scoffed. “You just wanted to see me be freakin’ uncomfortable in public. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to man, you’re getting off on this.”

Dean smirked, “That too.”

It sure was fun to watch Sammy squirm and stick to Dean’s side like he used to as a little kid. But equally true was the fact that Sam was getting cranky and restless staying indoors all day and night. And Sam was grateful Dean had prodded him into stepping out, but he was not going to admit it.

Instead he just made a perfect bitchface in response. Dean glanced around them briefly once before leaning toward his brother, one hand sneaking behind him to grab Sam’s thing.

“As if!!” Sam exclaimed with outright disdain and evaded him easily, taking two steps forward so Dean could see but not touch, and he knew how much that drove Dean mad.



Dean was about to put the Italian sausage bag into his cart when Sam turned around and stopped him, picked up the smoked one instead.

“Dude not that, that stuff is packed with calories.”

“I like calories.”

“I don’t. We’re taking this one.”

“Smoked is evil, not to mention tasteless. We’re not taking that.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are too!”

“Are not.”

“Ugh! Dean, be reasonable.”

Dean raised a placating hand, “Alright.” He thought about it for a second. “Let’s flip for it. Huh? Heads or tails?”

“Fuck you!”

Sam dumped the bag of smoked sausages back in the aisle and walked away, leaving Dean to chuckle all by himself.


By the sixth day, both Sam and Dean were itching to get out of hole-in-the-wall Mariposa. The lack of a decent library with digitized archives for research was a big driving factor, and so they packed up and did just that. Drove on.

Sam stared out his window at the picturesque scenery running away from him, lost in thought as he was usually wont to do. Dean glanced at him and licked his lips, placed a hand on Sam’s knee and squeezed, making his intentions clear as crystal.

Sam looked at Dean and made his I-have-a-headache face. “Dude, I’m too sore from last night.”

“Last night?”

“Uh, yeah? You got piss drunk and went all Anung Un Rama on my ass?”

“That’s ridiculous, I didn’t… Anun Uh what?”

Sam practically gawked at his big brother, at the genuinely confused look on his face.

“Wait a minute. You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Dean frowned and looked away, to change gears of course. Sam sniggered.

“Oh this is huge. A 20thcentury pop culture reference that my brother Dean Winchester has no idea about? And I do?”

Dean gave him a dirty look. “Congratulations. Now what the fuck is it?”

Sam just laughed and shook his head. “It’s Hellboy’s given name. Don’t tell me… if it’s not in the movie then it’s not worth knowing, huh?”

That was exactly what Dean was about to say, had even opened his mouth and raised his eyebrows and everything. Instead he settled for an indignant, “I wasn’t piss drunk.”

Sam laughed. “Man. You were so wasted. I dragged your ass out of that place just in time, before you could get up on the bar and start stripping in a room full of Californian yahoos.”

Dean tried to remember, really hard, but nothing came to mind beyond his sixth bottle of beer and eleventh shot of rum. He did notice though how Sam kept squirming now and again in his seat, and couldn’t help a self-assured grin. He did that to Sammy, he applauded himself. With a little help from the heinie-extension of course.

“Okay fine. We’ll go slow, do the foreplay thing you get so bitchy about. How about that?”

“No no no… don’t give me that look man. You’re not getting your grubby hands on me for at least a week!”

“What??? Come on Sammy don’t be cruel.”

“Dude you try sitting on a thoroughly fucked ass, three times by the way since you can’t fucking remember, for four hours nonstop driving cross-country, and then we’ll talk.”

“You wanna stop? That’s fine baby boy, why didn’t you just say so?”

Sam pursed his lips doggedly to show that he truly meant it this time.

“You can ‘baby boy’ me all you want dude, you’re still not getting any.”

Dean squinted his eyes and assessed his options. “Alright, here’s the deal…”

“Dean, take your stupid deal and shove it up your obnoxious…”

“Dad got sprayed in the ritual too.”



“I saw an exit sign a hundred meters ago.”


Sam was clawing at Dean’s clothes long before they even reached the door to their motel room in San Diego. Lips crashed and tongues dueled as if for world dominance. Once they entered and Dean finally managed to shut the door close, he slammed Sam right against it and continued kissing him. Only when respiration got seriously impaired did the brothers separate and used the break to strip each other naked.

Dean always did reach for Sam’s ass second, right after capturing Sam’s mouth with his own. For the past week his hand would land straight at his tailbone and grab his… thing. And Sam would gasp uncontrollably into the kiss, losing the battle of control on both ends. But last night, Sam had learnt something new about control and so what if Dean was too drunk to notice the night before, he could demonstrate just as well now.

When the boys were finally naked, Dean turned Sam around and pressed him back against the wall. Sam spread his legs and rested his hands on the sides of his head, letting Dean lube his insides up generously and preparing his cock as well. Dean mouthed the smooth shoulder blades, one slicked hand constantly stroking the eagerly wagging tail as well and then at last he pressed himself into Sam. The younger boy whimpered a little in pain, but it was a kind of pain he enjoyed limitlessly, although that never stopped Dean from being extra careful. Then Dean started moving inside of him and the sounds of pain turned to wanton moans of stimulation and lust and want and more… please more…

Dean was happily focused on the task of pleasuring his Sammy, when the tail twitched violently in his hand, and clearly struggled to break loose. He paused.

“Shit. Did you feel that?”

Sam grunted in effort to stay still. “Don’t stop Dean… don’t you dare stop.”

So Dean started moving again and noticed the tail, bolder than he’d ever seen it before (and longer of course as it had continued to grow a little every day), curl around him until the thing was poised at the opening of Dean’s bare ass.

“Uh, Sammy? Are you doing this?”

Sam nodded, panted breathlessly. “You trust me?”

“Of course, baby boy.” Beyond a doubt.

“Then let me show you what it’s like.”

And the tail end contacted with Dean’s butt, caressed it as if to locate the cleft and the orifice concealed within. Dean gasped at the newfound sensations, felt his own erection stir and throb in response and which in turn led to Sam quivering harder around his cock.

The boys moaned almost in chorus, as Sam pushed his supernatural appendage into Dean, coursing its way deep until it hit the sweet spot. Dean gasped and pressed further into Sam. It felt so… so hot, so erotic… being able to fuck each other and be fucked by each other at the same time! This was without doubt the weirdest and greatest sex they’d both ever had.

Later, they curled up in the king-sized bed, Dean spooning his little brother from behind, idly drawing figures of eight on Sam’s forearms folded between his own. He nuzzled into the side of Sam’s face for a while and his breath tickled the soft hair behind Sam’s ear when he spoke.

“He got gills.”


“And webbings between his toes and fingers.”

Sam still didn’t reply, and Dean clutched at the man in his arms more tightly.

“I didn’t see him for the next two weeks, figured he went for a swim.”

Sam swallowed, twisted his face upwards a little to give Dean more space to nuzzle and kiss him fully. But his mind was still working fervently to process the new information.

He could just imagine John Winchester’s disgust at being cursed to look like the things he hated the most. He could see how it must have eventually dawned on his dad… the man who was champion swimmer in the Corps, the man who’d never known any happiness after mom died… the slow-sinking comprehension of it all.

“That… sounds…”


Sam sighed. “Lucky bastard.”



On the tenth night, the brothers desecrated yet another grave somewhere in suburbia, then ran like hell before the cops could catch their scent. As they approached downtown, Dean just couldn’t help it.

“Tombstone, Arizona.” He intoned, turned to his companion and grinned like a six year old.

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes. We’ve been here two days Dean. And you’ve said those exact two words in that exact World’s Most Amazing Videos voice a hundred and eight times. It’s not scary or funny or anything anymore.”

Dean just chuckled. The town was choc-a-bloc with hauntings and ghost stories and the Winchesters wondered how come they’d never had a chance to travel down here before. Distracted by Sam’s squirming in his seat, Dean frowned.

“What’s the matter, puppy?”

“Nothing, just these jeans are not making it easy to… did you just call me puppy?”

Sam was almost as horrified now as he was ten days ago when he first sprouted the thing. And even further irritated to see Dean smirk, obviously having fun at his expense.

“What… it’s what the chicks like about you ain’t it? The whole puppy dog eyes routine of yours?”

Sam shook his head, getting it. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous of Lily, Dean. I was only talking to her for information…”

“Dude, I saw the little episode you had back there when you were talking to her.”

Sam frowned suspiciously, “What are you talking about?”

“Your stupid ass wagged that’s what.”

Sam panicked, wondering who else may have noticed any strange movements or protrusions under his jeans. He cursed Arizona weather to be so hot that he couldn’t hide under a thick long jacket.

“I can’t help it Dean and you know that! This thing has like its own… sexual intelligence or something.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, only half-kidding at this point because while he knew Sam was right, still, jealousy wasn’t something the man dealt with too well.

“Huh. Now I get what they mean by the tail wagging the dog.”

Sam huffed again frustrated that Dean still felt so insecure about them. Didn’t he know how Sam felt?

“Dude enough with the four-legged animal references, or I am gonna lose it I swear!”

Dean looked at him then, and broke into a smart-assed grin.

“Chill Sammy, I was just pulling your tail… I mean… leg.”

Sam didn’t believe him, of course, but he let it go. Dean sighed, and struggled to bring himself back to composure.

“Look, when you left for the library, that girl Daisy…”


“Whatever. She came up to me and asked if you were seeing anybody. Just thought I should let you know that’s all.”

A moment passed in silence in which Dean concentrated on the road ahead. And Sam looked at his brother, let his desire and longing burn brightly in his eyes, in his throat and lungs.

“Well you know what they say about puppies right? No matter how hard you try to make the tail straight, it always curls up once you let go.”

Dean couldn’t hide his surprise when he turned toward his brother. Sam smirked back at him.


Twelfth night was Friday night in oh-so-happening Tucson. The Winchester brothers got happily drunk on life (or a semblance of it) and other intoxicants at a bar of higher standards and better quality than their usual haunts. Sam almost felt out of place amid all the swank and bling, especially since he was in his baggy blue sweats again. But Dean couldn’t care less that the jeans he wore was an eight years old Salvation Army reject and hadn’t been washed in four months. In time though, the alcohol did its trick and soon Sam was attempting to stretch out on and French kiss the shiny floor.

Dean supported his brother, holding him by the waist as Sam leaned against him, and led him out of the bar through the back door.

“Come on baby boy, let’s get you tucked into a real bed okay?”

Sam giggled. “Okay!!”

His enthusiasm was charming, but Dean wasn’t amused because he was the one buckling under the heavy weight of his Sasquatchian brother.

“Deano…?” Sam whined when they reached the basement parking.

“Yeah Sammy.”

“I did something bad. Very bad.”

“What Sammy.”

Sam halted mid-step, pulling Dean back with him and almost making Dean lose his balance. Promptly he pulled out a wallet from under his jacket and showed it to his big brother. It was not Sam’s wallet, and it wasn’t Dean’s either.

Dean frowned. “Where did you get that?”

Sam grinned and whispered in his ear. “I snagged it. From that guy? The one who… who was hitting on you?”

Dean thought about it for a second, then his face split into a sarcastic, lop-sided grin.

“Dude that’s naughty.” He grabbed Sammy once more to take him to their car. “And you did it blind drunk? That’s impressive! Thought you’d lost your skill-set completely when you…”

“Actually, he did it.”

“He who?”

He, Dean.” Sam whined again.

This time Dean paused; looked up into Sam’s shot pupils hiding under floppy brown hair and his goofy grin. Sam gestured with a quick jerk of his neck backward to his… thing, and Dean understood, eyebrows hiking up into his hairline.

“When did you decide it was a he?”

“Since I gave him a name?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter from bubbling up. Kept inching slowly and steadily toward the Impala until they were standing right next to it.

“And what might that be?”

Sam grinned wider, if that were possible. “Dean Winchester the second.”

Dean winced… of all the things that could’ve been christened after him… Dean just shook his head once, before throwing it back to laugh and revel in the silliness. Sam watched him for a couple of seconds then abruptly pulled his big brother into a ginormous hug.

“Oh Sammy…”

Dean hugged the boy back, one hand automatically slipping downwards into Sam’s sweats to cup his luscious ass and stroke the extended coccyx.

They must have stood like that, holding each other, rocking each other for maybe a couple of minutes. Too comfortable to move or pull away. Not even when they heard an SUV park right beside them and two men and two women tumbled out of it.

But then Dean caught the disgusted glares they threw their way, heard the words ‘freaks’ and ‘fairies’ muttered in not so quiet whispers to each other.

Dean backed up then, and turned toward the intruders with his best winning smile, “Would it help at all if I told you we’re also brothers?”

Shocked and scandalized, the couples didn’t react for a few seconds. Then just made some more useless noises and went away. Dean turned to check on Sammy, who was watching them with this head tilted to one side, standing pretty damn straight for someone who’d just had seven beers and could barely hold one on his best day.



Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Sammy. NO.”

Sam scratched behind his ear, and for all intents and purposes looked like a smug Cheshire tomcat about to pounce on his prey and nothing could stop him.

“I could use the practice.”

Dean chuckled at last, crossed his arms and leaned against his side of the door, prepared to wait.

“Go. Get me the blonde’s cellphone.”


Fourteenth morning, Sam woke up, as always encircled in the arms of his big brother. Rubbed stubborn sleep out of his eyes to look up at Dean, already knowing what he would find and he wasn’t disappointed – Dean was awake, and looking right back at him.

“Mm… what time is it?”

“About seven.”

Sam groaned and furrowed into the older man’s chest once again. “Dude, it’s Sunday, let’s go back to sleep.”

Dean smiled, burying his nose in Sam’s soft hair and taking a deep whiff. “Well, we could stay in bed all day if you like…”

Sam snorted and squinted up at his ever-horny brother. “Dean, do you ever not think about sex? Like at all?”

Dean grinned, “Not really no.”

Sam just buried his face back into Dean’s naked chest, settling in, as if for a good long time, and mumbled sleepily.

“It’s this stupid thing on my ass that’s making you so horny like it’s your last rutting season ever. Have to say your obsession with demonic sex is totally reaching a whole level of cree… yikes!”

Sam jumped, almost banging his head into Dean’s chin and gripping Dean’s bicep so hard he created a blood clot. Dean just sniggered but did not move the flat of his hand… the one that had caused Sam to jump in the first place… from where it now rested.

On top of Sam’s butt. More specifically, on his tailbone… now back in its normal, un-extended, perfectly human form.

Seconds passed before Sam thought of sitting up and checking it himself. He put a hand behind him, twisting his neck for visual confirmation and sure enough… smooth, unbroken skin. Like nothing had ever been there at all.

“It’s gone? It’s really gone!”

Dean sat up too, sliding closer to Sam so he could take his breathless lips between his. Sam sighed and smiled into the kiss, compelling Dean to move sideways to lick at those killer dimples.

“I’m gonna miss it.”

Sam snorted, feeling Dean’s hand curl around him and fondle the cleft of his ass again.

“Well I won’t. That thing was evil Dean. It made us reckless, and… and cuckoo in the head.”

Dean laughed. “Cuckoo. That’s awesome.”

Sam glowered. “You know what I mean. We nearly had sex in public? And I stole for God’s sake and…”

It was Dean’s turn to snort. “You mailed all of their stuff back to them man, doesn’t count.”

“It still wasn’t right.”

Sam shirked Dean’s hand away and lay back down on his back, utterly relieved to be able to do so after two weeks. He noticed Dean open his mouth to say something, but pause, and instead just frown and curse. “Damn!”


“This would have been a good time to use my ‘boy someone’s as cheery as a holiday armadillo!’ line.”

Sam laughed, pulled his arms up and rested his head on them.

“I don’t believe this. You watched Friends?”

“Yeah, and obviously so did you.”


“’kay you got me there.”

Dean shrugged and lay back on his side of the bed, mimicking Sam’s posture as he crossed his own arms and rested his head on them. He sighed.

“I really will miss the darn thing. Now you’ll just go back to being a regular old geek.”

“Great! Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The brothers fell into their own private thoughts for a few seconds after that. The world around them was silent, except for morning birds chirping at their window.

“Why armadillo? ‘cause of the circles and stuff?”

“I don’t know. Yeah, I guess. Wasn’t what you’d call a rich, bushy plume you know, like one of those classy Siamese cats…”

Sam frowned. “Oh so I was Un-classy now? Like cheap southern trash or something?”

“What? No, I didn’t say that!”

“But you were thinkin’ it!”

Dean turned to look at Sam… yep, he looked genuinely serious. Dean rushed to lean over his little brother and planted close-mouthed kisses on him once, twice.

“C’mon baby boy, don’t make me say it.”

Sam turned away from the next kiss so it landed on his cheek instead. Dean huffed and looked into his eyes, giving into the game, considering how much Dean despised getting kicked out of bed every second week.

“Okay, okay. Sammy, you’re the classiest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I sure as hell have seen a lot of them. With or without the bush. I swear.”

Sam smirked, “That’s better.” and kissed him back passionately.

Ten minutes later they collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted after their first round of sex for the day. Sam stretched out leisurely, letting Dean do all the work as he wiped them both clean and discarded the condom, sending it flying across the room into the wastebasket. Then Sam yawned and settled back against Dean who lovingly spooned him from behind. Guess they were staying in bed after all.

Sam twisted and looked up into Dean’s face. “You know, think I will miss D2 a lot myself.”


“What? It’s a moniker.”

Sam always thought his big brother looked his stupidest (read: cutest) when he smiled and winced and wondered what the hell something meant, all at the same time. 

He bit back a victorious fit of laughter, and mulled over what their chances were, of finding another Kracchen.


(ETA: Because I'm such a feedback slut and love to read comments posted anyfuckwhere, link to this story posted in slashfest: HERE)

A/N: Pls let me know what you think?
Tags: fandom: supernatural

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