Educating Sam

[eachdraidhean]

Title: Educating Sam
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9589
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Beta: seleneheart

Notes: A gift for cirramin as part of the spn_j2_xmas exchange.

Dear cirramin,
I used the idea of one of your prompts as a starting point, and it grew from there.
Pre-series Sam/Dean. One summer, Sam wins a bet, and makes Dean (reluctantly) demonstrate how to score with girls.
I hope it works for you!
Wishing you a happy belated Christmas and best wishes for the New Year!!

Sam is 17 when the boys get together
Summary: After Sam wins a bet, he gets Dean to show him how to score with girls. He doesn’t tell Dean that he really likes boys better than girls, and the lessons lead to places neither of them expected.



When Sam was fifteen, it looked as if he’d finally begun to show an interest in girls. Dean felt proud that his little brother was growing up. He watched from a distance as skinny blonde girl with an edge of geek walked side by side with Sam as they left school. She looked at Sam with big eyes and he blushed and linked their fingers together as they slowly made their way towards the parking lot where Dean waited to pick Sam up.

A few weeks later, when Dad announced they were leaving town, Sam was distraught and yelled at John that his education would suffer because of the constant moving from school to school.

Dean knew that wasn't exactly true, given how smart Sam was, but he thought he knew the real reason, that there was more to it than Sam was telling. He watched with concern as Sam met up with Rose to tell her than he was leaving.

The willowy blonde cried and Sam held her. Dean felt helpless. The bereft look on Sam's face spoke volumes and this time when they left, Sam kept his stony gaze on the back of John's head for the whole of the eighteen-hour journey, his mouth set in a thin unforgiving line.

In his new school, Sam buried himself in his school work despite the admiring glances that were shot his way. He kept to himself, not even finding friends to hang out with. It was the same in the next two schools he went to, and Dean began to worry. He suggested, more than once, that Sam have a little fun, take a girl out, have a good time then move on. But Sam wouldn't listen. He'd either shrug or roll his eyes or yell and Dean would back off for another week or so, until he saw some cute girl eying his brother. Then the frustration that Sam wouldn't act on it made him bring the subject up again.

They'd been settled in a small town for a couple of months by the time Sam's seventeenth Christmas approached. The house on the edge of town was small, but it had a half decent kitchen and Dean and Sam had a bedroom to themselves. Now they were older, John's absences when he took off on solo hunts gave Sam breathing space. Dean was a pain in the ass sometimes, and Sam still had chores to do, but he began to look forward to the times when it was just him and Dean and no-one was telling him how to live his life.

One late November morning, John dragged them both out of bed at six and ordered them to go for a run. He'd arrived back the night before to find both sons sitting on the couch, beers in their hands, cracking up over some movie. That might not have been so bad, even if Sam was only seventeen, but Dean hadn't carried out the order he'd been given as John left, and that pissed him off. The weapons he'd left for his older son to clean and repair were still in the box under the kitchen table. It didn't matter that he'd gotten back almost two days early without letting the boys know he was on his way. In John's mind, the job should have been done straight away. The guilt that passed over Dean's face had at least proved he knew he'd done wrong, but John didn't want either of his sons thinking his orders could be disobeyed or forgotten. Sam had been defying him more and more, and the last thing he wanted was for Dean to follow his brother's lead.

"But Dad!" Sam whined. The ground outside was frozen and it was still dark and after being up so late the night before, he could really have done with another hour in bed. He glanced at his brother for backup, but Dean just tried to blink the sleep from his eyes.

"You need to keep in shape, Sam, not sit around with your nose in a book."

"It's called homework." Sam huffed.

"You heard Dad, Sammy," Dean smirked.

"You too, Dean. All that beer you go through is beginning to show." John poked Dean's side, and Dean yelped and jumped away, outrage on his face. He kept himself in shape, he trained almost every day, and no way was he getting anywhere near fat. He rubbed his side and looked up to see Sam smirking at him smugly. Dean pulled a face back at him.

"I reckon out to the Miller's farm and back is roughly five miles." Both sons were still standing staring at him. "What are you waiting for?" He barked. "Get dressed and get going!"

"Yes sir." They chorused and pulled on their sweats. Sam pulled on his favorite hoodie and threw Dean his spare one.

They ran to the farm in silence, neither feeling like talking so early in the morning. When they got to the farm and turned to head back, Sam slowed down to a walk. It took Dean a minute or two to notice his brother wasn't just behind him, and he trotted back to find him.

"C'mon, Sammy, I need coffee."

"You go, I'll follow. Don't see why we should have to do this. He didn't want me playing soccer, but he thinks it's okay to haul me out of bed in the middle of the night and make me do this? Forget it."

Dean sighed. "I'm not leaving you, dork."

They walked in silence for five minutes until Dean broke.

"C'mon, man, just get it over with. Get back and grab another hour in bed. I'll make sure you get to school on time." Dean bargained.

Sam shook his head stubbornly, so Dean tried a different tactic.

"Okay, I'll race you back. First one home gets anything they want from the other. If I win, you clean the Impala for me for a month, inside and out."

"Anything?" Sam asked.

"Anything within reason." Dean clarified.

"Nu huh. You said anything."

"Okay, freak, anything! Anything to get you moving. So what do you want if you win?"

"You'll find out!" Sam yelled as he took off at a sprint.

"Dammit!" Dean cursed and took off after him.

Sam got back first, Dean hot on his heels, and he whooped as he ran in through the kitchen.

"Sam!" John chided, but the grin didn't slip from Sam's face.

He ran through to the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him. Dean cursed again and threw himself down on the bed, picking up a classic car magazine to read until Sam was finished. It was twenty minutes before Sam walked out of the bathroom and into their bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"So what do you want? For winning? You want me to do your laundry duty for a month?"

"Nope. You'll find out soon." Sam grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes and headed for the bathroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean didn't find out what Sam wanted from him until John left again for a few days to help Pastor Jim with a restless spirit. He picked Sam up from school as usual, they flopped down on the couch with pizza to eat. Dean flicked through the channels on the TV looking for a movie to watch.

"Remember I won whatever I wanted?" Sam asked, butterflies in his stomach, wondering if Dean would laugh at him.

"Yeah?" Dean half-listened as he lingered on a channel before hitting the button on the controller again.

"Well, I want you to each me how to get girls to go out with me." Which wasn't quite true, but Sam was still working up the courage to tell his big brother that he thought he might like boys better than girls. He hoped the same techniques would work with both.

"What?" Dean turned to look at Sam, thinking he'd better make sure exactly what Sam was asking him for.

"I want you to teach me how to get girls." Sam repeated, rolling his eyes. "You're good at it."

That's what Dean thought he'd said. Thing was, he'd never really thought about it before. He asked girls out and they said yes. He even asked the occasional guy out, and he hadn't been turned down yet, not that Sam knew about that part of his sex life. He looked over at Sam's earnest face, cheeks pink with embarrassment for having to ask for help, and he knew he couldn't let his brother down.

"We're gonna need beer."

Two beers later, and Dean was ready to face the subject in hand. Sam's two beers had left him feeling nicely lightheaded, and he sat forward, ready to listen to what Dean had to say. He looked as if he was about to start taking notes and Dean had to hide a smirk. Sam was serious about this, and he'd said he could have anything he wanted, so Dean tried to keep his amusement to himself. He stood up, and looked down at Sam.

“First off? Girls like you, dude, I've told you that before. Plenty of them watch you when I come to pick you up from school. But you never seem to notice. You're always so busy thinking about homework and grades." Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Dean went on. "I know they're important, but you gotta let yourself have a little fun too, Sammy. Now, this is different from learning stuff at school. It's all about instinct and confidence."

Sam nodded. He hadn't missed the admiring glances that some of the girls in school shot his way, but he wasn't interested. But he paid attention to what Dean was saying, because he might get a chance with Kevin Dyer if he could get the boy to do more than glance in his direction.

"I know you've got it in you because we share the same genes, man." Dean grinned. "It must be like some latent superpower, once you learn how to tap into it, there'll be no stopping you." He leered at Sam and wiggled his eyebrows and Sam sighed. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"To start with, you have to quit slouching.” Dean informed him.

“I don’t slouch!”

“Yeah, you do. Stand up.”

Sam rolled his eyes and got to his feet. Dean walked around him, making small noises of disapproval.

“What’s wrong with how I stand?”

“Well, despite all the training you’ve done to make you big and strong? You hunch, dude.”

Sam drew himself up to his full height and pulled his shoulders back.

“I do not hunch!”

“That’s better. Any hunchier, and you’d look that Notre Dame guy.” Dean grinned and looked up at Sam. “You’ve gotta be comfortable in your own skin.”

Sam sighed. “I wanted you to help me with girls, Dean, not correct my posture.”

“Gotta start at the beginning, Sammy, and we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“It’s Sam.” Sam corrected his brother. “You slouch all the time.”

“I never slouch, Sammy, I lounge.” Dean demonstrated by lounging against the door frame, relaxing and looking at Sam with a heat in his eyes that he usually reserved for the opposite sex. He slowly let his gaze wander down Sam’s body. Even though it was to show him the effect that such a look could have, his eyes lingered over Sam’s broadening shoulders, the way his body tapered to his narrow hips, and then there were those long, endless legs. His brother wasn't a kid any more, he was growing up fast and Dean could see why the girls at school wanted a piece of him. He dragged his mind back to the matter at hand, and slowly looked up at Sam's face.

“Dean!” Sam whined, and squirmed at the intensity in Dean’s eyes.

“How you’re feeling now? That’s how you want to make a girl feel when you look at her.” Dean’s voice was low and he saw the edge of a blush tinting Sam’s cheeks.

Dean pushed away from the door frame and sauntered towards Sam, a lazy smile on his face. As he got closer, his eyes flicked up to Sam’s then away again. Then he’d continued walking and after a moment, he glanced back.

“You want to get their attention but it's gotta seem like you're not interested. Play it cool, mysterious, and they’ll be ditching their jock boyfriends as soon as you click your fingers.”

Sam wondered how Dean would take it if he knew that it was the jock boyfriends that really attracted him, not cheerleaders Dean found so easy to lure into his bed. He knew he'd have to get round to telling Dean the truth soon, but he didn't want to bring the subject up just yet.

"Okay, you try."

"What?" Sam shook his head.

"You wanted to learn how to do this, so you have to practice." Dean insisted, and pushed Sam to go and stand in the door frame.

"Okay, so I'm a cheerleader," Dean pretended to flick his cheerleader hair around and Sam snickered at him. "And you want to get my attention. Go."

Sam remembered how Dean had looked at him, and tried to mirror the intensity that had made him shiver.

"A little less serial killer, Hannibal. Don't want her running away screaming. Relax, play it cool."

Sam sighed as Dean waved his hand at him to continue. He took a deep breath and relaxed back against the door frame. He looked away, then looked back at Dean. He pretended he was Kevin, which wasn't difficult. Kevin was a similar build to Dean, with short hair and an easy smile. This time when he looked at Dean, he took his time, eyes roaming the young hunter's body, admiring the swell of muscle on his arms and the way his T-shirt stretched across his chest, before glancing at his face.

"Good, yes, that's good." Dean nodded and grabbed his beer from the table, finishing what was left. The heat in Sam's eyes left him feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Okay, now walk past me."

Sam readied himself, and drew himself up to his full height, remembering what Dean had said about being mysterious. He tried to replicate Dean's actions but as he walked towards Dean, his brother cracked up.

"Sorry, man, but you look like Zoolander."

Sam swatted him around the head and sat back down on the couch with a sigh.

"Aw, come on Sammy! This is what you wanted, and it takes practice to be as good as I am."

Sam looked up at him through his bangs and stood back up, determined to get it right.

Dean slapped him on the back, and after half an hour, he was satisfied that Sam was at least getting better.

~*~*~*~*~*~

John got back the next day, so any plans to continue Sam's lessons were put on hold. Although they weren't doing anything wrong, Dean really didn't want John to know what he'd been teaching Sam. He'd gone to bed that night unsettled. It was the first time he'd ever looked at Sam as anything but his brother. He knew it had just been to prove a point, but seeing him as someone desirable wasn't something he'd been able to shake off right away.

While Dean was busy convincing himself that he wasn't attracted in any way to Sam, Sam was deciding that kissing should be their next subject. He’d thought about kissing Kevin Dyer, thought about it a lot, and he’d seen Kevin glancing at him, but he still didn’t know if that meant anything. If he knew how to kiss really well, though, all he’d need was one chance to show Kevin what he was missing.

Kevin’s lips were full and soft, a lot like Dean’s, Sam thought, as he sat in a diner eating breakfast with his brother one cold Saturday morning. He watched Dean eat. Watched the way his tongue flicked out over his lips to moisten them occasionally, and to lick away smears of sauce from the corners of his mouth. He watched him take a bite of pancake, dripping in strawberry syrup. Dean chewed and Sam watched the way his throat pulsed as he swallowed. And then Dean speared a sausage with his fork and wrapped his lips around it as he took a bite. Sam stared, his eyes wide, his own fork paused halfway between the plate and his mouth.

Dean glanced up, startled when he saw how intensely Sam was watching him.

"Sammy?"

"What?" Sam almost jumped out of his skin.

"You okay, dude? You look like you've seen a pissed off spirit."

"No, I'm ... fine, just ... really hungry."

"Oh, okay." Dean went back to his breakfast, glancing up at Sam occasionally while Sam did his best not to stare.

After breakfast, as they walked back to the Impala, Sam gathered his courage to remind Dean he still owed him another lesson.

"So will you show me more tonight?"

"Huh?" Dean's mind was stuck between what that sounded like and what Sam actually meant. The small stab of desire that struck him when he remembered what he'd promised to teach Sam shocked him. "Yeah, sure, I can do that."

Later that night, beer on the table, they sat on the couch facing each other.

"Kissing? You want me to show you how to kiss?" Dean's eyes were wide, and he wished it was a bottle of Jack within reach, not just beer.

"Just ... show me how to get to it, the kissing part. Tell me what I need to know. Tongues or no tongues or when to use tongue ..."

"Okay! Okay, so .... you be the girl, and pretend we're at the movies." Dean knew this was a bad idea, really bad, but Sam settled himself on the couch facing forwards, waiting for Dean to make his move. Best to get it over with as soon as possible, Dean thought, and sat back too, his arm snaking along the back of the couch.

"Movies are good, it's nice and dark, and if you take her to a horror flick, she's probably gonna want to snuggle up to your manly and protective chest anyway." Dean explained. "If your arm is along the back of the seat, it's really easy to move it down to her shoulders the first time she's scared by the bad guy." Dean gritted his teeth and but his arm round Sam's shoulders. Sam sat rigidly, staring straight ahead.

"Dude, you're the girl. Be scared and snuggle." Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam very slowly relaxed against Dean, trying not to enjoy being pressed against his side, a strong arm around his shoulder. It was warm, and Sam felt safe. As Dean shifted a little closer, Sam wanted to reach around and slip an arm around Dean's waist, especially as Dean's other hand was now on his knee. Sam looked up into Dean's eyes, hardly hearing what he was saying.

"... put a hand on her knee to reassure her that you're there to keep her safe from the monsters on screen. Then when she looks up at you, yeah, just like that, you can put that hand on her face, gently." Dean raised his hand, stroking his thumb along Sam's cheekbone as he cupped his face. It hit him like a round from a .45 that he really, really wanted to follow through, wanted to press his lips against Sam's and taste him. Dean's heart hammered in his chest as he moved his hand and dug the tips of his fingers into Sam's hair.

“Then you lean in …” Dean moved closer to Sam, until Sam could feel his breath on his lips.

Sam's breath hitched. He was going to do it, he was going to kiss Sam and Sam would finally know what it was like to kiss another man, to kiss Dean. All thoughts of Kevin Dyer dissolved, replaced by thoughts of Dean and what they were about to do. Sam tilted his head, offering himself up, anticipation of something so forbidden racing through his veins ...

The familiar crunch of John's truck on the gravel outside had them springing apart.

Sam stared at Dean for a second, maybe two, and then they were both moving. Dean grabbed the bottles from the table and stashed them in the trash. Sam grabbed a school book, and picked up the remote for the TV, handing it to Dean as he came back, and they both sat down at opposite ends of the couch. Sam opened the book and tried to look interested in the math problems it contained. He didn't look at Dean, and Dean kept his eyes glued to the screen, flicking through channels as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't almost kissed his baby brother.

A key rattled in the door lock and a gust of cold air burst into the room as their father stomped inside. He dumped his bags down and looked around the room, flicking the curtains back to check the salt lines across the windows.

"Hey Dad, you're back early. How'd it go?" Dean hoped he sounded normal when he was feeling anything but.

"Routine salt and burn after all." John grunted. "Anything to report here?"

"No sir."

"Have you boys eaten?"

"Chinese. No leftovers, you can blame Sam's hollow legs for that." Dean smirked at Sam, who lashed out with his foot.

"Okay, I'm going out for something to eat. Make sure Sam gets to bed on time, Dean."

"I'm seventeen and I'm right here!" Sam scowled at John, got off the couch and stomped off towards the bedroom.

"Get some sleep too, I need your help with research soon as I'm up tomorrow." John nodded at Dean and headed back out.

Once John closed the door behind him, Dean let out a long breath and let his head drop back against the couch. If John hadn't come back when he did, Dean would have kissed Sam. Kissed him, long and hard. Kissed him until Sam melted against him and groaned into his mouth.

"Damn." Dean fetched another beer and drank it down, wondering when things had started to get complicated. He and Sam had always been close, but what they'd been about to do was beyond close for brothers, even for them. He wanted to follow Sam into the bedroom, but he needed the distance. If Sam looked at him now with even a hint of attraction, Dean didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself. So he stayed away, drowning his confusion in more alcohol, and falling asleep on the couch.

When John got back, he woke Dean up and packed him off to bed. Dean knew he'd pay for it in the morning with extra sit ups or extra miles to run, but Sam was fast asleep when Dean slid into his own bed. Dean reckoned that not having to deal with what had happened earlier was worth paying the penance for.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, another early morning training session meant they didn't have time to be awkward around each other. By the time Dean dropped Sam at school, it was as if the night before had never happened, and that was fine with Dean. Or at least it was fine until he picked Sam up from school that night and saw the same goofy smile on his face that he'd only seen before when Sam was with Rose. It took Dean a while to figure out that the irritation he felt was jealously, at the thought of some girl getting to kiss Sam when he couldn't. That freaked him out even more than the kissing practice had, and he made a point of ignoring how he felt and tried to be happy for Sam. So he teased Sam, asking what her name was and wiggling his eyebrows lewdly to make Sam laugh.

But Sam kept his secret until one night later that week. He was late, and Dean went looking for him, fully prepared to back off if he found Sam and his new girl making out somewhere.

What he wasn't prepared for was Kevin.

All Dean saw was a guy with his hand on Sam's thigh and Sam watching him with wide eyes.

Dean didn't know what the guy was whispering in Sam's ear but it made Sam blush and then the guy was leaning in towards Sam and Sam tilted his head just as Dean had shown him ...

"Sammy!" Dean yelled.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam was angrily silent all the way home. When Dean parked the Impala, Sam threw himself out of the car and slammed the door closed.

"Hey asshole! Don't take this out on the car!" Dean yelled.

Sam kept on walking and slammed the front door closed too, right in Dean's face. Dean stormed in after him.

"What the fuck, Sam?"

"What the hell was that for, Dean? What did Kevin ever do to you?"

"He was gonna ..."

"Kiss me?" Sam snapped. "Yeah, that was the point, Dean. It's taken me days to get him to that point and now?" Sam threw his hands in the air. "Thanks. Thanks a bunch."

"Wait ... you set that up? You mean he wasn't ..."

"Taking advantage of me? Stealing my virtue?" Sam rolled his eyes. "It was the other way round."

"What?" Dean looked confused.

"I led him on using all that stuff you taught me so he thought it was his idea. Thought I was shy and clueless. You and Dad do it all the time, make people believe you're something you're not."

Dean frowned, any kind of comeback dying on his lips cause he supposed Sam was right. But he was still seething.

"So you don't like girls? What about Rose? You sure looked like you were sweet on her, or was that all an act too?"

"Rose was my friend. She was the only one I told about ... about maybe being gay. She was kind and listened to me. She was my friend, Dean, and I had to leave her behind." Sam's anger overrode the hurt he still carried round after being forced to leave Rose behind.

Dean thought back to all the times he'd seen them together. He'd seen them hug, and hold hands and look at each other with what he'd assumed was romantic attraction in their eyes. He cursed under his breath. He'd always prided himself with being able to read people, yet the fact his brother might be gay had never registered. He eyed Sam, wondering what else he'd been keeping a secret and he felt a little hypocritical, given his own experiences with men. But before he could ask Sam why he hadn't told him about it, when Sam dug in his pocket and pulled out his cell.

"Who are you calling?"

"Kevin? Hi." There was a pause, and Dean visibly bristled. Sam backed away. "Yeah, man, sorry about that."

Dean's eyes widened as he heard Sam's voice change. Apologetic with an edge of innocent seduction.

"So do you still wanna see me tonight like we planned?" Sam laughed softly. "No more interruptions, I promise."

Dean flipped, launching himself at Sam and grabbing at the cell. Sam landed on the floor with Dean on top of him. It flew out of Sam's hand and hit the wall hard resulting in a small shower of broken parts.

"Fuck!" Sam cursed, and shoved at Dean with both hands. "How the hell am I ever gonna get laid when you keep getting in the way?"

Dean's brain short-circuited. When he'd considered that concept, it was always with Sam and some girl, not some guy with short blond hair. The jealously he'd felt when he thought Sam had found a girlfriend tripled when he imagined Kevin's hands on Sam, Kevin kissing him.

"Laid, Sam? Have you ever even kissed a guy?"

"No, and if you keep helping, I probably never will."

"It’s the same as kissing a girl, only with stubble." Dean explained angrily, still pinning Sam to the ground, unconsciously stopping him from going after Kevin.

Sam's eyes widened, understanding what that meant. So it was okay for Dean to kiss guys, but not him? Sam glared daggers at his brother and fisted his hands in the front of Dean's shirt.

"Well, if you don't want me kissing Kevin ..." His lips slammed against Dean's.

Shock, anger and a need to teach Sam a lesson all rolled into one and Dean opened his mouth and thrust his tongue into Sam's, kissing him back hard.

Sam's eyes shot wide open as the tables turned on him and Dean ravaged his mouth. His hands let go of Dean's shirt and snaked around his neck, holding him where he was, never wanting the heady lust thrumming through his body to end. Dean kissed him until Sam was breathless and squirming beneath him. He pulled back and looked sternly down at his mussed up little brother.

"So now you know what it's like."

"Yeah." Sam gazed back up at him with dazed eyes. "And you lied, Dean. It wasn't anything like kissing a girl with stubble."

Dean stood up, shaken at how good it had felt. He reached a hand down to help him off the floor, but once he was on his feet, Sam didn't loosen his grip. Instead he pulled Dean towards him.

“Do it again.” Sam crowded into Dean’s space, eyes pleading. “Please?”

Dean looked at his brother and blinked. “Sam, that wasn’t ...”

“Please, Dean?” Sam wasn’t above begging for more of being that close to Dean, to being kissed by Dean. He was so hard, felt so needy, and the only thing that would help was more of Dean.

Dean looked at his brother. He noted the way the loose jeans tented dramatically over his crotch and the way Sam was trembling with unashamed lust. Impulsively, he tightened his grip and pulled Sam into his arms, kissing him roughly. Sam bucked against him and Dean felt high from the sounds Sam made into his mouth. Grunts and whimpers and curses as he rutted against Dean’s body.

Dean braced himself against the countertop and pushed his hips towards Sam with a growl as he buried his fingers in Sam’s hair. Now he was thankful for Sam’s small, stubborn rebellion, his insistence that he keep his hair longer, despite John’s barked commands and orders. He dragged his fingers over Sam’s scalp and pushed his tongue between Sam’s lips, tongue fucking him in time with Sam’s thrusts against his hip.

Sam whimpered, his eyes wide, and gasped out Dean’s name. His body was tight as a coiled spring, ready to snap and blood boiled in his veins making his skin prickle. No jerk off session had prepared him for how good it would feel to be with someone else, even if there were still layers of clothing between them.

Dean tore one hand away and grabbed Sam around the waist, pulling them closer together, his hand slipping under Sam’s shirt to rest on bare skin. It felt so good, his arms full of Sam, felt so good that Dean thrust back against Sam, not caring if he came in his pants like a fucking teenager, which is exactly what Sam did seconds later. He groaned and trembled and the warmth against Dean’s hip increased, became damp. Dean growled and kissed Sam’s neck as his brother slumped against him.

Sam pulled back and stared at Dean, stunned, especially as his first impulse wasn’t to crawl away and die of embarrassment, but was to get naked with Dean as fast as he could. Kevin no longer existed. Sam had found what he wanted in Dean, as he always had. This was new, but with
Dean there was a familiarity that made it safe as well as scary. And he wanted more.

The sound of the truck outside jolted them both out of any thoughts of further exploration.

“Bathroom now, Sam. Get cleaned up.” Dean went with his first impulse and pushed Sam in that direction, but Sam looked so hurt that he reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s okay, we’re okay, but you’ve gotta move, now, Sammy.”

Sam nodded and sprinted for the bathroom, grimacing at the sticky mess in his pants.


John knew there was something going on, he just had no idea what.

Dean was sitting at the table cleaning a gun and Sam had his head buried in a book. Both sons doing the same things they always did but something was different. John glanced from one to the other.

“Dean, I need some supplies from the hardware store.” John pushed a list and a couple of bills across the table towards his son. "And pick pizza or something up for the both of you while you're out. I've got a meet tonight with a friend of Jim's."

“Yes sir.” Dean answered, pocketing the money and reading the list. “Sammy, wanna come along?”

John waited for a disgusted snort or a sarcastic refusal, so his eyes widened as Sam put down his book and picked up his jacket.

“Yeah, sure.”

Both boys headed out and John shook his head, grumbling something about mercurial teenagers.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean drove straight to the hardware store, Metallica blasting out of the Impala’s windows. Sam sat quietly in the passenger seat, but it wasn’t the sullen silence that had been there for a few years now, and that made Dean happy. First, they picked the stuff up for John. Then Dean drove straight to Sam’s favorite pizza place. He picked them up a large pepperoni and a couple of sodas.

There was a spot not far out of town that Dean had discovered with one of his first dates after they’d arrived in town. He knew it would be deserted and there was no chance of John walking in on them. He switched off the engine and turned to look at Sam, who was staring at him, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

“Can we ... do stuff?” Sam still wasn't altogether sure Dean really wanted the same as he did.

“Pizza’ll get cold.”

“It’s good cold.”

“Damn, I must be good.” Dean grinned.

Sam snorted.

"Back seat is better for this." Dean suggested. Sam was out of the car and climbing back in before Dean had a chance to move.

Dean followed. Sam touched Dean’s lips with his fingertips, scrutinized Dean’s face. Dean looked the same as he’d done before they’d kissed, before he’d held Sam close as he rubbed himself off on Dean’s hip. Still the same brother, still the same constant factor in Sam’s life. Sam had wondered if he should be freaked out about what they’d done, being brothers and all, but he wasn’t really. He hoped Dean wasn’t either, because he really wanted more.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam’s scrutiny and rolled his eyes, putting his hand on Sam’s neck and pulling him closer.

“I ain’t a science project, Sammy, quit examining me.”

“No, you’re better than that." Sam blushed hot as Dean’s fingers stroked his neck, and he pressed his mouth against Dean’s, groaning as it opened for him and let him in.

They sprawled on the wide backseat of the Impala, making out with Sam on top of Dean, his long form stretched out as much as it could be, given the limited space.

Dean's teeth scraped over Sam's bottom lip, nipping and sucking on it until Sam moaned into his mouth. Dean licked the needy little sound away, soothing Sam's kiss swollen lips with his tongue and Sam shuddered with pleasure.

From where he lay, Sam could feel the heat and hardness of Dean's cock through their clothes and he shamelessly rubbed himself against his brother. The friction made Dean groan, the sound rumbling through Sam's chest and Sam wriggled around until he could get his hand between them to trace the length of Dean's cock. Dean's breath hitched and he tilted his hips up, grinding himself against Sam's palm.

Sam took that as permission for more and slid down the warm body beneath him, pulling up Dean's t-shirt as he went to reveal a couple of inches of toned stomach. Hesitatingly, he lowered his mouth and kissed the narrow strip of skin, dipping his tongue into Dean's belly button. He kept his eyes glued to Dean's, watching for any sign that he was doing it wrong. He knew Dean had a lot of experience and couldn't help but worry that he wouldn't be able to please him, to make him feel good. But going by the lustful look in Dean's eyes as he stared back, Sam was getting it right so far, so he continued exploring.

He popped the button on Dean's jeans and eased the zipper down slowly, swallowing as the musky scent of arousal increased, stirring Sam's hunger. He was about to reach inside to pull Dean's cock free, but Dean lifted his ass and pushed down his jeans and close fitting black boxers. Sam helped him, pulling them down to mid thigh, he blinked at the sight of Dean all laid out for him to explore.

Dean felt exposed, not because he had his jeans half off, but because this was a side of him he'd never shared with Sam. They were so close, but there were things that you didn't share with your brother. With every touch, Sam was breaking through those last barriers, peeling Dean's last defenses away piece by piece. Sam had seen him with his guard down before, seen him drunk, seen him stoned, seen him hurt so bad he'd cried like a baby and Sam had clung to him as if letting go would prove fatal to both of them.

But this was a different kind of vulnerability and truth be told? It scared Dean more than a little.

Sam's fingers curled around Dean's shaft and Dean's eyes fluttered closed as he felt another peice of his armor fall away. His own fingers dug into Sam's hair, wrapping the sweat damp strands into his fist. As Sam moved closer, Dean held him back. Not because he didn't want what Sam was offering. He did, badly, but he needed a pause, hoping Sam would understand that this wasn't a game.

Sam looked up at him with curious, expectant eyes.

"What do you want, Sammy?" Dean's voice was low, rough, tattered around the edges.

"I want this."

"Tell me."

Sam blushed. "Want to taste you, Dean, want to ..."

He didn't know if he could say the words and what if he did say it and he sounded like some cheesy skin flick actress? What if Dean laughed at him?

"Want to suck you."

Dean didn't laugh. He groaned a little and Sam felt bolder. "Want to suck your cock." He turned his head and licked Dean's wrist. "Please, Dean, please let me. Want you to come in my mouth." Sam had no idea what it would feel like, having Dean spurt come in his mouth, but the way Dean was reacting to his words gave Sam an unexpected sense of power and he wanted to push Dean further. Wanted to see him lose it completely.

"Jesus, Sammy." With a moan, Dean let go and Sam bent forward and nuzzled the hair at the base of Dean's dick.

The heady scent spurred Sam on to tentatively lick the hard muscle. Dean groaned and his hips bucked at the first touch of Sam's tongue and Sam grinned as he became more confident. He drew back and examined Dean's cock as he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled on it a couple of times. A bead of moisture leaked out and Sam stared at it before he caught it on his tongue. Dean's whole body trembled at the touch and Sam looked up at him. Gently, he mouthed the tip, his lips rubbing backwards and forwards as he savored the salty taste. He opened his mouth wider, and wrapped his lips around the bulbous head, tongue exploring the ridge. He swallowed down another inch, then another, learning the textures of silky skin wrapped around hard muscle, learning the taste and feel of having Dean in his mouth. Dean's hips twitched, forcing another inch into Sam's mouth and Sam stilled, getting used to the size of his brother's cock.

"Sorry, can't help it. Feels so good, Sammy." Dean apologized, but Sam let him know it was okay by swirling his tongue around the dick in his mouth and sucking on it.

Sam pulled almost all the way off, then sucked it back in, moving his mouth up and down, trying to find a pace that Dean would enjoy. By the sounds spilling out of his brother's mouth, incoherent curses punctuated with gasps and groans, he was getting it right so far. Dean's hands cradled his head, and Sam looked up at him wide eyed as Dean made shallow thrusts into Sam's mouth. The trust that Sam had in Dean where everything else in life was concerned helped him relax. He nodded at his brother who began to fuck his mouth, still holding Sam's face as if he were made of glass.

"Ah, Sam, gonna ..." Was all the warning Sam got before Dean's cock began to swell and jerk in his mouth.

Sam did his best to swallow what he could, but he pulled back, brow furrowing at the odd taste and he gagged a little at the sensation of his throat being flooded with it. He pulled off and the last spurt landed on the corner of his mouth as what he couldn't swallow dribbled over his lips and down his chin. He blushed beet red at not being able to do it properly, but Dean's hand cupped his face and his thumb trembled as he wiped it across Sam's lips. Sam looked up at him, shocked by the glazed way Dean was looking at him. He understood that he'd at least made Dean feel very good, even if swallowing everything would take practice. He sucked Dean's thumb into his mouth and Dean whimpered. The sound hit Sam like a punch to the gut and his own cock demanded attention.

Unconsciously, he'd been rubbing himself against the seat of the Impala as he'd sucked Dean off. His own need swamped him now Dean was done and staring down at him.

"Dean ..." Sam's sudden pleading focused Dean, and he pulled his brother up to lie half on top of him. Sam's eyes fluttered shut as he pressed himself against Dean again, but then Dean's fingers were fumbling with Sam's zipper as he pulled Sam close enough to lick at the come on his face.

Sam groaned, learning rapidly that things that might have sounded gross at any other time became incredibly hot when he was crushed against Dean's body, blood pumping so fast through his veins he thought he might burst.

Then Dean's fingers were wrapping around the hard length of his cock and he couldn't breathe. His face contorted, eyes scrunched up and he buried his face against Dean's shoulder, overwhelmed at the first touch of someone else's fingers. That it was Dean only made it better, so much better that Sam came with the second pump of Dean's fist, all over Dean's exposed belly.

"Fuck!" Sam stammered out, and kept his face buried in Dean's neck as Dean's free hand ran slowly up and down his back.

Once he could see straight again, he looked down at the pool of come cooling on Dean's stomach. He dipped his finger in it and slid it into Dean's belly button.

"Gross." Dean muttered, but didn't stop Sam from touching him. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"I've always been the freak in the family. I didn't want to be even freakier." Sam shrugged and rested his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Liking guys doesn't make you any freakier, geek boy. Were you really worried what I'd think?" Despite how everything was now glaringly out in the open, deep down, Dean was still a little hurt that Sam hadn't told him.

"I wanted to, but something else always got in the way. Dad, hunting, moving on again. I guess I knew you'd be okay with it once I told you." But Sam tensed, and Dean looked down at him, stroking his shoulder. "I don't have to tell Dad, do I?"

"Not until you want to. But he might start to take the hint if you're not going out with girls."

"Does he know about you?" Now it was obvious he wasn't the first guy Dean had fooled around with, Sam was curious.

"He knows I like both. He saw me leaving a bar with a dude a couple of years back and the next day he told me to be careful. That's all he's ever said about it."

Dean's belly was beginning to itch, so he reached around under the seat and found an old t shirt. Sam took it off him and wiped up the mess.

"We've gotta be careful, if we do this again. Can't take chances on Dad ever finding out." Dean pulled up his jeans and fastened them as Sam straightened his own clothes.

"If?"

"Okay, when. Sam ..." Dean paused. He needed to know that Sam was okay with what they had done, what it sounded like he wanted to do again. "This isn't exactly normal. I don't ever want you to do something you don't want to. Say the word and this stops right now."

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss Dean.

"s'okay, man, you're not taking advantage of me. I want this too. Maybe again before we go back, but I need pizza first." He grinned and climbed back into the front of the car, opening the pizza box and wolfing down a slice before Dean even had a chance to join him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time they were left on their own, it was just before Christmas. Caleb had been on the trail of a spirit that only emerged to wreck havoc on a small town in the next state at Christmas and needed his help.

Over the few weeks they’d been fooling around, Dean had discovered that it wasn’t only books Sam was good at studying. Anything that grabbed Sam’s interest, he wanted to know everything about and right now it was sex, specifically sex with Dean, and Sam’s desire to learn his subject was all-consuming.

Which is how, on Christmas Eve, he found himself lying naked on his stomach as Sam mapped out his muscles with long fingers, naming them as he went. Dean's arms were first, then he began to work down Dean's back.

"Trapezius" Sam kneaded the strong muscle and Dean groaned as Sam's hands worked down over his shoulder blade.

"Teres major and minor." Sam's fingers slipped to the side, then slid back towards Dean's spine, running one finger down the length of it and murmuring "Erector spinae" in Dean's ear, making his brother shiver.

Sam paid a lot of attention to the sleek muscles on either side of Dean's spine, informing Dean that they were his "Latissimus dorsi". Dean preferred to call them lats, but the Latin sounded good coming from Sam's mouth.

When Sam got to glutes, both Maximus and Medius, he kneaded҉ Dean’s ass and made him clench and unclench the rounded muscles so he could feel the shift of skin and flesh and bone.

“Spread your thighs.”

Dean obliged, shifting on the bed with a grunt at the friction on his trapped cock. Sam’s fingers continued exploring all the dips and curves of muscles working down Dean’s legs with great attention to detail.

Dean melted into the mattress, blissing out on Sam’s attentions. Sam’s fingers firmly traced his ankles and Dean whimpered. He’d never known that given the right attention, they were highly sensitive.

Sam started back up Dean’s legs, kneeling between his calves. Sam’s fingers were warm and kind of huge, Dean mused to himself and it wouldn’t take much more to get off. He squirmed against the quilt cover, trying to find a decent rhythm, internally debating whether to turn over and let Sam have another lesson in cocksucking. Not that he needed anymore lessons. The boy was a natural and a perfectionist and Dean was mightily glad of both especially since it was Sam’s new favorite thing to do.

But if he did that, he’d lose the addictive way Sam’s hands were quite possessively roaming his body. Dean groaned as Sam reached his ass again and he kept his hips moving, grinding himself against the bedcovers.

Sam parted Dean’s cheeks and Dean squirmed at the way Sam seemed to be examining his exposed hole. He’d been touched there before, a couple of girls had tentatively explored and one of the guys he’d been with had shown an interest in it until Dean wriggled away, not interested in getting his ass fucked.

But no-one had openly appraised the pucker of skin and muscle, no-one had run their thumbs down each side, driving Dean crazy. He looked back over his shoulder at his brother, who’s face was a mask of concentration as he brushed the pad of a finger over it, watching intently as it twitched at the contact. Not for the first or last time, Dean wondered what went on in Sam’s head.

Dean rutted against the bed as Sam touched him. His balls tightened as his slow built orgasm neared and he grabbed hold of two handfuls of quilt. The soft breaths he felt on his spread thighs as Sam got closer were enough to bring him right to the edge and he whimpered needily. Without warning, he felt Sam’s tongue licking and lapping at his asshole and Dean yelled Sam’s name as he squirted come all over the quilt, bucking and pushing back into the erotic sensation of the wet muscle pushing into him.

Sam held him fast and when Dean finally lay still, spent and dazed, he heard the familiar sounds of Sam jerking off behind him.

Dean glanced back and saw Sam still staring intently at Dean’s ass as he fisted his cock. The fingers of his free hand dug into one of Dean’s ass cheeks and Dean decided that if Sam wanted to see him while he got off he would give him a show. He reached back and grabbed the globes of his ass, pulling them apart and canting his hips back to expose himself further.

Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean’s as Dean looked at him over his shoulder and then back to his prize. He rubbed the head of his swollen cock over the tight furl of muscle, smearing it with the liquid leaking from the slit.

Dean groaned and squirmed and his ass twitched under the pressure of Sam’s dick.

“Do it.” Dean spat, not thinking about what it meant, what he’d given Sam permission to do, only knowing that he wanted more, wanted Sam to push inside him so badly.

But the thought of fucking Dean was too much for Sam to take and his cock twitched in his hand as he shot his load over Dean’s hole. His come dripped down the back of Dean’s balls onto the bed as Sam rested his spent cock between Dean's cheeks.

“Sorry ...” Sam stuttered out.

“Don’t be sorry.” Dean turned over, ignoring the mess they were both in, and pulled Sam down to lie with him on the bed. “Later, okay?”

“You still want me to ...?” Sam’s fingertips reached down and pushed against Dean’s now slicked hole.

“Jeez, Sam!” Dean jumped, then slowly pressed back into the touch. “Yeah, I do.”

“Has anyone else ever? I mean have you ever?”

“Been fucked? No. I’ve always done the fucking.”

“So, no-one?” Sam needed clarification on that.

“No-one!” Dean replied, exasperated until it struck him what Sam was getting at. “You’ll be the first, Sammy.” Dean pulled him closer.

Sam’s fingers continued playing and he buried his face in Dean’s neck.

“I want ...” He hesitated, but one thing getting physical had shown him was that he held some of the power in their relationship now, and it made him bolder. “I want to be the only one, Dean. No-one else gets to fuck you but me.”

Sam pulled back and looked at Dean, a dark, possessive look in his eyes.

Dean let his eyes fall from Sam’s gaze, lowering his lashes in an almost submissive way. He kissed Sam’s throat and licked a path up to his ear.

“No-one else, Sammy, only you. I swear.”

Sam moaned and pushed a single finger deeper into Dean’s heated body. “Now, want you now.”

“Okay, but go slow, yeah?” Dean panted at the intrusion.

Sam took his finger away, and rolled to the side of the bed to fumble in his jeans pocket. Dean shivered at the loss of his warm body, but Sam was soon back, full of reassurance.

“It’s okay, Dean, I researched it. I thought it would me be that ... you know ... and I wanted to know what would happen.”

Dean smiled, knowing that Sam would be blushing.

Then fingers slicked with much more than spent come slid down his crack, dipping inside him. One at first, moving and gently prodding his insides. It was an odd sensation, and Dean forced himself to relax. Sam wanted this, so he could give it to him. Sam pushed in another finger, and frowned down at Dean.

"You need to relax." The heated kiss Sam gave him went some way to help with that, but Dean knew he was way too tense. "We can stop, do other stuff if you don't want to do this." Sam was giving him an out. There was no disappointment in his voice, just concern and Dean let out a long breath.

He could take the way out that Sam was offering, or he could let go of the last piece of armor and give himself up to Sam completely, let Sam take what he'd never wanted to give to anyone else. He could give up control to Sam, trust him enough to do this. It only took a heartbeat to make up his mind.

"Don't wanna stop, want you to fuck me, Sammy." Dean kissed him, softer than before, but with no less desperation. "Please."

Sam growled and Dean shivered at what the sound did to him. Then Sam was on him, spreading his legs wider, adding a third finger to the ones already pushing in and out of Dean's hole, and this time, Dean went with it. The only thing that existed was Sam, and the way he was touching Dean's body. Dean cried out as Sam's fingers went deeper, probing and pushing, grazing over a spot that made him buck off the bed.

Sam's gaze was predatory now as he pulled out his fingers and lined up his bare cock, pushing the head in, almost overwhelmed at how good it felt having Dean's heat engulf him. Sweat ran down his back and Dean grabbed his arms, panting his way through the sensation of being split open.

"Do it." Dean could hardly speak, and he cried out, his head slamming back against the pillows behind him as Sam gave him what he wanted and thrust further inside his body.

Sam's mouth slammed down on Dean's, mauling as he fucked his brother hard and fast. He wrenched his mouth away, and bit down on Dean's shoulder, drawing blood to the surface and Dean gasped out his name and pulled him closer as their bodies moved together almost frantically. Sam couldn't hold back. Need clawed at him. A need to mark Dean, make him his so completely that Dean would never look at anyone else. Needed Dean to give him everything he had and more, needed to see him fall apart. Dean gave him that, gave him more with every thrust, every slam of Sam's body against his.

Dean's hand wrapped around his own cock as Sam powered into him. He whined and twisted as Sam braced himself over Dean looking down at him as Dean came in hot spurts that hit them both. Dean's ass clenched around Sam's cock, pulling Sam's orgasm out of him, milking him dry as Sam shuddered through it, pumping into Dean and filling him. Now spent, Sam stilled. His arms gave way and he collapsed on top of Dean, their sweaty bodies sticking together.

Dean lay under him, his body was boneless and pliant, Sam still buried inside him. Little aftershocks were sending sparks of pleasure skittering through his body. He could have lain there forever, beneath his Sasquatch of a brother.

Eventually, Sam slid off him. Dean was left empty and wondering if he'd be able to walk anytime soon. Sam curled up against him and Dean slid an arm around his shoulder.

"Shower?" Dean suggested. He felt gross and sticky.

"Soon." Sam mumbled and snuggled closer.

Dean smiled and glanced over at the clock on the night stand.

"Hey, it's after midnight. Happy Christmas, Sammy."

Sam raised his head and gave dean a sloppy kiss, a contented smile on his face.

"Happy Christmas Dean. That was the best present ever."

Sam snuggled closer, dozing off again and Dean grinned as he petted Sam’s hair. He really couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be for Christmas.


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