Dean turned and grabbed the bottle, then stared at the second one in Sam's hand. He looked up into Sam's face and could tell little bro expected him to put up a stink. Instead, he touched his bottle to Sam's and just said, "Drink it slow. I don't want to haul your drunk ass inside."
Sam grinned and sat down on the top step by Dean's feet. "It sucks here, Dean," he took a sip of beer, "it really sucks." Wiping his mouth he looked out over the lake. "How long did Dad say we had to be here?"
Shaking his head, Dean answered. "Beats the hell outta me. Tomorrow will be too late." He was about to go out of his mind with boredom. Knocking back
some of the beer, he swatted a mosquito and cursed. "This has got to be the worst place we've been, and we've been in plenty of dumps. Hope he gets done with whatever soon." Yeah, but when had he ever gotten back in less than a week? "If it weren't so hot that the cards would stick to my fingers, I'd teach you to play poker. And don't get started with you already know how... you gotta work on that poker face."
Sam shrugged and took another sip of beer. “So, Dean,” he cleared his throat, “there was this girl, you know, back in Camden.” He picked at the label on the beer bottle feeling his cheeks start to burn; scratched his nose then pushed his hair out of his eyes. “You know what? Never mind. Let's play poker - we're gonna go nuts if we sit here doing nothin'."
Studying Sam's profile, Dean started to smile. "Nah, let's not play poker. How about you tell me 'bout her. This girl in Camden." The silence didn't surprise Dean. "Did she have nice... you know," he motioned with his hands as he asked
whether she had a nice rack. That was sure to get Sam tripping over his tongue and get him talking.
“Jesus, Dean!” Sam put his beer down on the step beside him, thinking, remembering. “She did… I mean, I didn’t,” he closed his eyes for a moment, “yeah.” He grinned and looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye. “She was really pretty though, you know? Long black hair, real tiny,” he looked up at Dean, “she would have fit right under my arm.” He lifted his arm up almost unconsciously as if he could see her there. “Smelled really good too,” he muttered almost under his breath. He let out a big sigh and picked up the beer bottle again, taking a long drink.
"You sweet on a girl, Sammy?" He teased, but a sadness swept through him. He knew Sam had a tendency to take things to heart, and a need to make long term friends. When he said he liked a girl, it probably meant a big time crush. How often would he get to explore something like that for more than a blink of an eye? That was one of the reasons Dean had learned to move so quickly on a girl. If he did the old dating before kissing thing, he'd never get laid. "Should'a told me." Yeah, he'd have given his brother some tips... after he gave him some shit of course.
Sam shrugged again. “I guess. Doesn’t matter, I never got to … well, I was gonna … you know kiss her.” He puffed out his cheeks and let out a long breath. “I didn’t really know… well, I was going to try.” Cringing, he waited for the abuse to start.
"Oh yeah?" Again with the silence. "What happened," Dean asked, not a hint of mockery in his voice.
"Nothin'." Sam chuckled softly, the smile fading quickly from his face. "Seriously, nothing. I didn't know where to start." He looked cautiously at Dean, trying to gage the mood he was in. "I didn't know what to do, Dean. How to start, like..." he turned to face his older brother, feeling a bit more confident, "how do you let a girl know that you like her... that you want to kiss her?"
The wise cracks about being irresistible and not having that problem died on his lips the instant his brother's gaze met his. "I don't know that there's a magic formula. I mean... it's trial and error. You just gotta," he sniffed, "you know, think there's nothing to lose. What's the worst that can happen? She says no, or maybe you get slapped." Okay, a crack slipped out, but it wasn't a bad one and it was the truth. "Some girls... you just know they're not gonna be prudes. Others... ah, let's go inside and play poker," he said, changing his mind.
"No! what?" For a minute there Sam though his brother was actually going to help him instead of just brushing him off. "Come on, Dean, I don't have anyone else to talk to!" It came out louder than Sam intended but it was true. The way they moved around Sam was lucky if he could even keep people's names straight. He was frustrated and pissed off. "I used to think I would die a virgin - now I think I'm going to die without ever even kissing someone." Sam slammed the beer bottle down on the top step splashing it up his arm.
"That's nuts... Sam." Dean got up and joined him on the stair, stretching his legs out and looking over at him. "You are not gonna die... you know I won't let you," he said, pointing at him with his bottle before he took a drink. Damn, he could get emo over the smallest things. "I was just gonna say, you can sometimes tell from the way they hold their head. You know, kinda tilted to the side, hair partly in their eyes... means the chick's flirting with you." He
demonstrated the pose. "And ... I dunno, pupils get dark... kinda big... and if they sway toward you, even little," he moved a few inches toward Sam, "and if they're looking either in your eyes or at your mouth... it's in the bag." He took another swig, leaned his head back and swallowed, then looked back at Sam. "And if their lips part... real slow like this... then it's guaranteed."
As Dean's lips parted Sam felt a little jolt, it brought back memories of all those times he had watched Dean while he made out with some girl. He knew what Dean was talking about, well, some of it. He'd seen the way the girls looked at his older brother - like they wanted something from him. His eyes jumped down to Dean's mouth, his full bottom lip, then back to his brother's eyes. He looked up at Dean from behind his floppy bangs. "Then ... what do you do first?" he almost whispered.
"Yeah, kinda like that," Dean agreed, seeing Sam emulate the girls and nodding. "You know what I do next, not like you haven't seen it often enough," he grinned. He didn't mind that Sam shadowed him, he liked it.
Sam's eyes widened and he leaned back a little. "I was just .." he felt around behind him blindly for his beer, grabbed it and finished the rest of the bottle, gulping it down. He took a deep shuddering breath. "I was trying to see how it ... worked." He could feel a blush creeping up his neck and warmth growing in his belly. Looking at Dean from under long dark lashes he gave him a weak grin. "I kinda liked it." Okay, that beer was going straight to his head.
"Hmmm? You got that far with her? And liked it?" He noticed that Sam had finished his drink, no wonder he wasn't making a hundred percent sense here. But hey, that meant he might share things he otherwise wouldn't. "So ... arm go around her? You know, when you were liking it." Dean bet that was code for getting a stiffy.
Sam looked confused for a few seconds, "Me? Did I like.... oh...." crap "That's not what I meant. I liked .. You know - watching you." Suddenly feeling like he couldn't really breathe he tugged on the neck of his t-shirt. "I mean," he ran his hand down his face, "I liked watching you kiss girls." He moved as if to get up, "I should probably go ... to bed or something." Why couldn't he stop talking?
"Oh... that." He tried not to laugh at Sam's worried expression. "I get off on porn, you get off on soft porn," he shrugged, trying to be as casual as he could about it. "Here's the thing... it's a hundred times better when you're getting it, than watching," he pointed at Sam. "You know it's true. So next time you see someone you like, get them to that point with the swaying... don't hesitate. Go for it." He put his hand on Sam's back, patting him. "You've got it in you, you're a Winchester."
"Yeah, I guess." He leaned back into Dean's touch, liking the feel of his broad hand. Dean's lips looked really soft, no wonder there was always a girl. Sam leaned a little closer, staring at the drop of beer on the corner of his brother's mouth. Go for it Darting forward he crushed his mouth against the corner of Dean's, pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Everything happened at once. The sudden press of firm warm lips against his, a familiar burning... aching sensation, and the realization he'd been kissed. Sam had kissed him. He'd.... His heart sort of stuttered, and Dean told himself it was from shock. Then he tried to think about how many beers he'd had... three, just three, not so many that he would have imagined it. Instinctively, he licked his lips... and holy crap, he tasted Sam there, and no way... no way was he thinking of leaning in and...
He cleared his throat. "Right, just like that. Only with your arms around her," he said, finally figuring out he was an idiot. Sam had been trying the technique out on him. Course if the kid hadn't had that beer, he wouldn't have. And sure, he probably should be slugging him, or kicking his ass... but he found he couldn't get himself worked up enough to do that. "Just like that," he said more softly, this time leaning back on his elbows braced on the stairs and looking up at the moon. Yeah... he really needed to find Sammy a girl. Both of them...
Sucking on his bottom lip Sam sat very still, watching his brother. That had felt really good, and Dean tasted like Sam thought he would; beer, salt and, well, Dean. He shifted down a step, scooted a little closer and reached out shyly, sliding his hand over Dean's stomach, curling his hand over his brother's hip. "Kind of like this?" he asked tugging Dean a little closer.
Dean's stomach clenched under his brother's touch. Hell, other parts of him that shouldn't be standing at attention seemed to suddenly come alive. He sucked in his breath, trying to explain this to himself. Telling himself it was because they were bored to death, with no end in sight, and he was not reacting to his brother specifically, it was just a reaction to a touch... he was so hard up, any touch would do. His gaze met and clashed with Sam's and suddenly he wasn't so sure.
Swallowing hard, he reminded himself he was the older brother. It was his job to take care of Sam. If Sam was so drunk he wanted a demo, he shouldn't take him up on it... cause that would be really bad. Real bad. "Just like that..." his heart slammed into his chest. Dean took his brother's hand off his hip and sat up, trying to ignore the scorching heat left by Sam's hand print. "Let's get you to bed, Sammy."
Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip, tasting blood, sliding away from Dean quickly. He straightened his back, swaying a little, feeling a little dizzy. "I'm ... sorry, Dean. You mad?" He pressed his fingers to his bottom lip and then grimaced when they came away red. "I bit my lip."
"Mad... no." Maybe he was drunk... he had to be, cause why else did he find himself cupping Sam's chin, why was he wiping his lip with the pad of his thumb, and why the hell was he swaying toward Sam, wanting a proper taste? Jerking his face slightly so his lips ended up sliding along Sam's cheek, and moving over his ear instead of his original target, he whispered. "No one could resist your moves, Sammy, I'm pretty sure about that." He barely recognized his own voice and refused to analyze why he'd said 'no one' instead of 'no girl.' Afraid of these strange sensations sweeping through his system, Dean stood up and put his hand out. "Time to turn in."
Sam felt like his knees were going to buckle when he felt Dean’s breath on his ear. Felt so good. Glancing down at Dean’s hand, he reached out and slid his fingers slowly over his brother’s rough palm, then grabbed on and pulled himself up. Stumbling, he tripped up the step in front of him and fell against Dean’s Chest. “I think I’m a bit drunk, Dean.” He grinned at his brother, grabbing onto the waistband of his jeans to hold himself up. Dean smelled so good. Sam turned his face into Dean's neck, breathing deeply.
As Sam's body collided into his, as it felt almost like Sam was about to pull his pants down, Dean barely bit back a moan. Fuck... he knew better, knew he shouldn't be feeling like this... no matter how many drinks he'd had, Goddamit. Sam was a guy... and not just any guy, he was his little brother. Emphasis on 'little'... you listening down there? Didn't matter what he thought, his blood was definitely surging to his cock, and Sam wasn't helping any... the way he was practically nuzzling him.
"I know you are. Let's get you inside." He tried to keep his voice normal, putting his arm around Sam, his palm sliding down his side to his waist, over tight muscles that had developed overnight it seemed. "Come on..." Yeah, he was talking to himself as much as to his brother. He got him up the stairs, and they staggered a little. Each time Sam jostled against him, Dean gritted his teeth, fighting his feelings. "Keep that up and I'm picking you up, Goddamit," he finally snapped.
“You’re bossy.” Sam smiled and pressed his lips against Dean’s neck, lingering. There were so many feelings rushing through him, and it all felt so good. Maybe it wasn’t right, wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but Dean’s hands felt really good on him. No one loved him like Dean… it just made sense. He tucked his hand into Dean’s back pocket curling and uncurling his fingers against his brother's firm ass. He tried to walk straighter to please Dean.
"You bet I am." Dean's voice went from low to high pitched. He had to have imagined that kiss... had to, but Sam's hand in his pocket... no matter how hard he tried to unimagine it, it was still there... pressing into his ass, making him wonder what would happen if he pulled Sam close, held him the same way. No, no, no... This was just making him wish he was drunk. Then he'd have an excuse. Maybe.
"Sam, come on," he said more sharply, practically dragging his brother inside to the bedroom and shoving him down onto the bed. The distance between them allowed him to breathe again. "Get... get undressed. I'm gonna lock up," he said a bit tightly, for the first time in his life shying away from the sight of Sam in boxers. What the hell had gotten into him?
Turning, he left the room and went to secure the house.
For a few minutes, Sam just stared at the ceiling. His fingers drifted to his lips, the taste of Dean’s skin still there. Shit. Dean was going to kick his ass in the morning. Pushing himself up off the bed he kicked off his boots and pulled his socks off, almost falling off the bed while he struggled out of his jeans. He palmed the slight bulge in the front of his boxers, feeling his cheeks redden again. What the hell are you doing to yourself Sam? He snorted and grabbed the hem of his shirt. After a brief wrestling match, he threw the shirt on the floor and slid under the sheet.
Taking more time than he needed, Dean drained the rest of his beer, left the bottle on the kitchen table and headed back to the room. A part of him wanted to hit the bottle, reach for something stronger than beer. Another part of him worried about consequences... if he wasn't thinking straight now, what might he do if he had some whiskey inside him?
Generally noting the lump under the sheets that told him Sam was in bed, he kept his eyes off Sam. In the morning, this would all clear up and yeah... he'd find them stuff to do, just to keep the hormones from making him do or allow something they'd regret. Dad, it's all your fault I kissed Sammy cause you left us in fucking Merliville... yeah... not gonna cut it.
He undid his belt buckle, and unzipped. Pushing his jeans down his hips, he practically kicked them off since he was barefooted. Glancing at the ceiling fan, he wished it was circulating something other than hot air. The heat had to be getting to his brain too... yeah that was it. Crossing the room, he shut the light and got into his bed, leaving the sheets off. Hands behind his head, he watched the fan turned. "Night Sam."
Sam watched Dean get undressed through squinted eyes, his brother moved so easily; Sam still felt like he was all arms and legs. The light turned off, he heard Dean’s bed creak and his goodnight. Sam ran through the evening in his mind, listening to Dean’s breathing from across the room. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Dean’s mouth had felt when he had kissed him, it was softer than he thought it would be, his brother’s lips smoother, warmer. Sam shifted in bed, leaned up and held his breath to listen. Dean’s breathing was deep and even, he was sleeping.
He sat up, slid out of his bed and padded quietly over to Dean’s bed. Sam just stood there for a while, listening to Dean’s breath, watching the rise and fall of his chest; then he sat down as gently as he could on the side of Dean’s bed.
Dean didn’t move, his breathing still even and calm; Sam leaned down slowly and pressed his slightly parted lips against Dean’s. He waited, and when Dean didn’t stir, he leaned in again, drawing Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth ever-so-gently.
"Mmmn..." Dean started to complain as something disturbed his sleep, but before he came awake, the sensation of soft lips against his, sucking on him, turned the complaint into a moan of pleasure. Good... good, but he wanted more. Parting his lips, he dipped his tongue
slightly inside, finding the heat of that silky mouth pressing so damned sweetly against his. He moved his hand, cupping the side of his dream date's face and kissing just a little harder, like he was almost afraid that if he was too aggressive, his date would bolt.
A moan built somewhere in Sam’s chest when he felt Dean’s tongue slide into his mouth, so slick and smooth, surprised he gasped into his brother’s mouth then just let the pleasure wash over him. Letting his weight settle cautiously against Dean’s chest Sam turned into his brother’s hand, so rough on his cheek. He let his tongue slip out of his mouth, licking along the velvety smooth bottom lip he’s been staring at all night. Don’t wake up, don’t wake up, don’t wake up. He felt like he couldn't catch his breath, shifted closer so he could press up against Dean's thigh, Holy shit. His heart was thundering so loud in his chest he was sure Dean would hear it.
The instant Dean sensed weight pressing into him, he closed his other arm around his date, running his hand up and down, then resting it on is date's ass. As their tongues tangled, he slowly became aware of something hard pressing into his thigh. Other things shifted into place too. There wasn't much softness to the body he was groping, it was all tight muscle... it belonged to a male. Goddamn Sammy for doing this to him, making him dream of a guy. And Goddamn himself for not forcing himself awake, and deciding to enjoy it.
Slanting his mouth, he deepened the kiss, caressing the roof of the guy's mouth... not just any guy, he tasted like Sam, tasted good like him, felt like how he thought Sam might feel. He tangled their tongues together and then started a thorough exploration, mapping every corner of his mouth, his breaths growing slightly ragged.
Felt so good. Sam didn’t know what to do with his hands, with his legs, his hips rolled forward into Dean’s leg- which kinda scared him and kinda felt really good, too good. He was just learning though. Right?. Just learning. Panting into Dean’s mouth Sam’s arm snaked over Dean’s hip, his fingers pressing into the hot flesh above Dean’s shorts. Dean's tongue felt so good in his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on it, trying to pull it further inside his mouth.
"Yeah baby," Dean encouraged, molding the boy's body to his, deciding he needed more. Without breaking the kiss, he cupped the guy's ass, fingers digging into partially clothed flesh as he started to roll them over, needing to be on top, to control the kiss and gain the pressure he was starting to need to ease the throbbing ache between his legs.
Sam groaned and twisted out from under Dean sliding off the bed and thudding onto the floor. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was in his throat. Jesus Dean that was too good, too much, and totally not about learning anything anymore. Kissing your brother shouldn’t feel like that, shouldn’t feel like it’s setting you on fire somewhere deep inside your stomach. Sam sat there trying to calm himself down.
Reaching blindly out to grab his would-be lover, Dean complained loudly. "C'mere... need you. Don't be like that." His body was on fire, and he just fucking wasn't used to being left high and dry. "Whatever I said... didn't mean it."
Sam’s head fell back against the bed as his breathing slowed. He wondered who Dean was dreaming about, knowing it wasn’t him. He sighed and kneeled up to look at Dean’s face, watching his furrowed brow, reaching out he ran his finger along Dean’s lips, knowing he’d never get a chance to do it again.
Dean chased that finger, managing to suck part of it into his mouth and smiling triumphantly as his hand shot out and unerringly gripped the boy's wrist. "Stop driving me crazy... Sammy."
Sam jumped jerking back against Dean’s strong grip. What the hell? “D D Dean?” He tried to tug his hand away, to no avail. “Dean, I’m sorry, I….” he looked down, out of words.
The sudden movement combined with Sam's voice brought Dean awake. He jackknifed to a sitting position, "what... what happened?" Then found he had grabbed Sam's wrist, and that his brother was standing next to his bed. He could smell Sam... could smell his scent on himself, could taste him. He remembered the kissing on the stairs the... oh crap. Releasing Sam, he cocked his head. "Did I.... say anything?" Please God... don't let me have said anything about the dream... but he knew he must have, or why else had Sam awakened and come to investigate?
Sam’s mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again as he tried to figure out what to say. He licked his lips, “S’okay Dean, go back to sleep,” his voice was husky, deep, “I’m sorry I … woke you.” Why did he feel so crappy? Why did his heart jump when Dean had said his name? Just the idea of Dean knowing it had been him… Sam sighed and tugged his arm free, going back to his bed, climbing in and rolling away from Dean. "Night, Dean." He pressed his face into his pillow.
"Sam?" The silence made him think maybe he'd imagined Sam had been right there. Nah, he knew he had been, but what had he heard, and why was he apologizing? Maybe he didn't wanna know. Telling himself that, he dropped back down on the pillow, rolling to his side and watching Sam. Only when he realized he was checking out the lean lines of his body visible in the semi dark room, did he roll over on his stomach, barely holding back a groan. Tomorrow, he was gonna tell his dad to get his ass back here. Okay, maybe not in those exact terms but...
* * *
When Sam's eyes cracked open in the morning he had a few moments to savor the deliciously cool morning air before everything came flooding back to him. The thoughts seeped back into his consciousness in no apparent order; the taste of beer on his lips, firm muscles under his hand, low-voiced words of advice from his brother, kissing, oh god kissing, Dean’s hands digging into the muscles of his ass. He sat bolt upright in bed eyes darting across the room to Dean’s sleeping form.
In slumber, Dean’s face was serene – he never seemed to look like that during the day. Sam’s eyes traced the smooth curve of Dean’s spine ending in the slight twist of his hips….. he scrambled out of bed. What the hell was wrong with him? There was no beer to blame now. Snatching his jeans off the floor he hopped around quietly pulling them on, focused on getting away from Dean for a while. He stopped briefly to
scrawl one word on a scrap of paper on the bedside table, ‘swimming’. As he turned to leave his hazel eyes trailed once more over Dean’s face – then he darted out of the room.
It was a short walk to the lake, the breeze was nice as it ruffled his shaggy hair and the grass felt warm on his bare feet. He really needed a haircut. The water was still, blue, clear and Sam shucked off his jeans and waded in, gritting his teeth against the cold. Wearily, he looked down at his hands, splashing some water onto his face, he had to make sure everything was okay with Dean. He had no one else, pathetic as that seemed. He dove into the water and swam.