Title: Those Little Red Panties Pass the Test
Author: shink_fic
Disclaimer: I lie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~550
Genre/ Pairing: Sam/Dean, pwp
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Crossdressing Kink
Summary: For the supernatural kinkmeme: Sam/Dean; They make a bet. The loser has to wear panties all week even when he's sleeping. The other realizes he's attracted to his brother's body.

***

"Fuck, Dean, do I have to?" Sam asks, pushing his hair back from his face with one hand, forehead crinkled with worry.
   
"Yeah, Sammy," Dean says, grinning and sipping a beer. In one hand he's holding just about the best heckling material ever invented, specially picked out just before their last hunt for the bet. "I ganked the ghost before you did, so you wear these," he opens his fist a bit, letting the edge of his prize slip out, "for a week."
   
Sam gulps, staring at Dean's fist. Wordlessly, he grabs the cloth from Dean's hand and walks to the bathroom. There's rustling from inside, Dean listening and grinning around the mouth of his beer.
   
"Oh, Sam," he calls, hearing the squeak of the doorknob turning. "You have to show me you're wearing them." The handle stops, and for half a second Dean thinks Sam's going to just rush out and shoot him, but instead Sam walks out, blushing. He fumbles with his belt for a second, then pushes his jeans down on his hips, just enough for Dean to see a hint of red lace.
   
"Can't see 'em Sam," Dean's going for humiliation, but is more awestruck when Sam grumbles, closes his eyes and pushes his jeans the rest of the way down to his knees.
   
Sam's wearing the smallest pair of red panties, fringed with lace, his cock barely inside of them, the fabric stretched tight over his ass. It's the fucking hottest thing Dean's ever seen. They're so thin, filmy, he can see right through them, it would be so easy to just slide his fingers right under the edge of them and-
   
"You believe me now?" Sam asks, pulling his pants back up, apparently not noticing that Dean just got harder faster than he had since he was sixteen and felt up a girl under the bleachers.
   
"Yeah," Dean chokes out, not thinking about the panties, about how Sam's wearing them under his jeans, all tucked inside them. Definitely not thinking about that.

***
   
At the end of the first night, Dean has to either jerk off while Sam's in the shower or die of lack of blood flow from walking around half-hard all day. He chooses the first option.
   
Sam's had them on for hours, sometimes grimacing uncomfortably, or, in a quiet room, Dean can hear the rasp of the lace over the loose insides of his jeans as a reminder of just what's under there.
   
Dean pulls his cock out, already rock hard, and strokes himself, thinking of that one glance of the little red panties stretched tight over Sam's body, showing every curve and line and muscle of Sammy.
   
Those panties that just scream 'bend me over', and Dean could. Could bend Sam over the counter in the kitchenette and push his fingers under those tight red panties and then his dick, the lace rasping over his skin mixing with the sounds of Sam's strangled moans and keens.
   
Dean comes so hard he nearly passes out.

***
   
At the end of the longest week of Dean's life, he waits until Sam's asleep and pulls the panties out of the garbage can where Sam threw them. They're still warm.

***