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Summary
AU. Azazel has given his favorite son a task: worm his way into the confidence of a hunter. It sounds simple, but Dean Winchester just might be more than Sam can handle.
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Summary
After the existence of the supernatural became common knowledge, the general public turned to hunters for answers. This group of unsung heroes, who had lived in the shadows for so long, was thrust into superstardom overnight and looked to for safety above all else. Among them, no hunter was more famous than Dean Winchester: a fan-favorite American icon who helped banish all demons from Earth.
His mysterious younger brother, however, had been absent from the public eye for years.
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“My brother. Where is he? He - he was with me when I went to sleep. What have you done with him?” Sam can feel the panic starting to claw up his throat, thinking about what might have happened to Dean, making his hands sweat - “And where are we? Where have you brought me?”
“Sam?” the man says again and man, it’s like a broken record, “Sam what the fuck,” and this is a waste of time, they’ve already established the man knows Sam’s name. Sam glances at the door, wonders if he can make a run for it. The man mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’
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Sam wakes up aged 9 and with zero clue who the weird man in the bed next to his is. They deal.
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Sam has been struggling with depression since Stanford. Well, not really struggling. Excelling. He's been excelling at depression since Stanford, and it's only gotten worse since he started hunting again. Unfortunately, the relapses from John's death and Dean's trip to Hell were bad, but they had nothing on the downward spiral triggered by Sam starting the Apocalypse.
But Sam has never come clean before, and he isn't about to start. He's self-medicating, he's suppressing, and he's handling things in the Trademark Winchester Way. He can do this. He can totally do this.
Spoiler: No, he can't.
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'Nobody ever died of a boner, Dean’s pretty sure, whatever his teenaged self might have said to the girls back in high school when he was trying to get under their skirts. Or. Did anybody ever die of a boner? That would be just like Sam, to die of terminal sexual frustration and not to let Dean do anything about it until it was already too late.'
I asked for 'fanfic cliche' prompts and got 'sex pollen'; so I decided to go all out and make it a cursed-object-in-the-Bunker fic too. This is pretty much unadulterated PWP.
Series
- Part 1 of Wincest: Fanfic cliche edition