Title: Desert Rain
By: veradeath
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean, genderswap, (w)incest
Disclaimer: This is not mine.
Summary: "Dean Winchester considers himself to be cool under pressure. In his life, you have to be."


Dean Winchester considers himself to be cool under pressure. In his life, you have to be.

So, they're in Nevada, right? Dry, merciless heat and cracked mountains stretching out forever.

They're tracking this ghost of a porn star that kills people through delusions, when Sam gets cursed. The ghost cackles manically the moment Sam falls, muttering something that sounds like ‘tit' and ‘fucking', before shouting "You'll have to do it!" . Then it disappears.

He rushes Sam back to the hotel they're staying at.

That's before Sam changes, right before his eyes. He twits, and shrinks and muscle shifts and fat accumulates and bones grind and suddenly, Sam is a girl.

Sam has tits.

Dean likes girls, likes their curves and laughs, likes fucking them. He usually only has time for a blow job or a quickie. But Dean has this thing about tits. He loves fucking them. The soft press of firm yet pliant weight of them against his dick. It's what really turns him on.

Sam has collapsed on the bed, probably from the pain of transforming.

Dean gets a glass and fills it with tap water and digs out some Advil before heading out.

He has some drinking to do. Or something.

He doesn't go to a bar but doubles back to the warehouse where they found the ghost.

It appears almost immediately, twirling around him like a demented rabbit.

"He stays a girl until you and only you fuck his titties!" it screeches at him, so not the answer he was looking for. This time, the ghost swipes at him, getting in a scratch before dissipating.


"No fucking way am I letting you do that. Its incest, Dean." Sam growls out when he tells him.

"So you want to stay a girl for the rest of your life?"

"I won't let you." Sam is careful about the enunciation.

The thing about Sam having tits, is that he has nice tits. The kind of tits that drive Dean crazy. His favorite kind, even.

"It's the only way, jerkface"

"Oh, bite me."

"That's kind of the point."

They go on like this for days.

And then Sam gets his period. Dean feels like thanking all the gods, goddesses, and other assorted deities for it.

Because apparently, Sam has bad cramps and feels crappy and no amount of Midol can lessen his pain. Which Dean so wants to make fun of him for admitting, but for this to work Sam can't be pissed off at him and have Dean's dick in his face. So no mockery. Yet.

Sam lies on the bed, half naked with perky breasts and a defiantly bored expression on his face. Dean situates himself and begins thrusting, his face contorting in pleasure. The warmth and the constant beating form Sam's heart provide a handy rhythm for him. His mouth presses into a thin line and his eyes squeeze shut and he's coming on Sam's neck.

The first thing he notices is how Sam's facing is slimming, going form soft to hard smooth lines. He rolls off Sam and watches his brother turns back into a man.

Sam rushes into the bathroom and then Dean listens as the water turns on.

He tugs on his pants and shoes and heads out to a bar to get plastered. He doesn't hear the moans coming from the shower.

He returns hours later, riding the buzz that only Jose Cuervo can give.

Sam is sitting in the only chair, looking at him meditatively. He stands up now, walking slowly to Dean.

He stands still, not sure of what's going on.

"I've been thinking, Dean. About how much you enjoyed it. About how you looked." He starts.

Dean gulps.

"I can explain-" he starts but Sam stops him. Stops him by undoing his belt and shucking it off. Sam's thumb is dangerously close to his dick.

Sam goes onto his knees, thumbs sliding his boxers off. His breathing is the thing that finally gets Dean hard.

"Sammy" he whispers, chocked up.

Sam doesn't say a word and just starts licking him and raking his teeth on him and then engulfing Dean with his mouth and sucking. He does everything Dean likes right. Dean twists Sam's hair up in his fingers, dictating the movements.

In no time, he's coming and Sam is swallowing him.

Jesus Christ, swallowing him.

"Sammy." he moans out.

Sam rises up, kissing him, and he can taste himself on Sam's tongue.

"We should do this more often." He manages to get out before Sam grabs him and pushes him down, Sam's erection making his wants evident.

As he goes down on Sam, he starts to really appreciate Nevada.