Reader note: there is a music cue later in this chapter, when you hit the part about Janis Joplin, go listen to her live version of "Ball and Chain" from her Best Of Album, youtube has it.
"So who are you with these days?" asked Girl 1.
"I've been sneaking off with Dean a lot." Girl 2 replied.
"Pfft, he doesn't count," said Girl 1 dismissively, "Who are with for real?"
"Oh, I'm going to prom with Levi Steiner, he's going to be a dentist."
Dean's mouth twisted a little at this, his head leaned up against a pillar where they couldn't see him as he waited for Sam to get out of class.
"I heard he's not even planning on going to college," said Girl 1, "Who gets married without at least a bachelor's degree?"
Cars lined up and left as the high school emptied out, and circling around the other side of the gym to avoid the girls, Dean reached for his cell phone to check for messages.
"Come on Sammy..." he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. John was out of town with the car this week, leaving the boys with a job down the road, and hopefully the chance to make some cash cutting grass over the spring break.
Shoving open the door to the boy's locker room, he peaked his head in, ears pricked for the distant hum of a shower.
Sam held his breath, his face dark except for the square of light that shone thru the gap in the tiles that peered into the shower room. The two girls, classmates of his that he'd dubbed Boobs and Braceface, were making out in a plastic chair.
Boobs held up a battered paperback entitled Bitsy's Undoing, and read, "Make me a woman!"
"No!" said Braceface in a manly voice, holding the other girl at arm's length, "Baby I'm no good for you!"
"But it's destiny!" cried Boobs, still reading from the book, "I'm the only one for you!"
"Now what do we do?" asked Braceface in her normal voice.
Boobs flipped the page. "More talking, more talking...eeeeeew, I dunno if I wanna do that, let's just do the kissing part."
"Okay." and the girls proceeded to french kiss. It was sloppy and fake, and every now and then they would stop to giggle and make sure no one was within earshot, but Sam was hypnotized, his cheeks burning as he pressed a thumb to his lower lip.
A car honked in the distance. "Mom's here," said Boobs, "Wanna try again this weekend?"
"Maybe," said Braceface, "Do you even like this?"
Sam pressed his ear to the gap. The girl said something in reply, it was hard to hear over the shower...
Sam jerked away from the wall. "Dean?"
"Get your stuff and let's go, I need your help with research."
Sam nodded, grabbing his bookbag and following him out of the gym. The girl's reply burned in his brain, not quite understanding what she meant by it, and it bothered him the entire car ride back to the motel.
Dean held his head in his hands, letting his eyes unfocus on the old books. John was out on a hunt for the next week, and had asked the boys to look into some unusual infant deaths in the area in his absence, but the Girl's conversation still rankled within him.
"Dentist..." he muttered bitterly, pouring himself another shot of whiskey. The AC was busted, and the forecast predicted a sweltering spring break with the lows in the 80s that night.
Sam sat cross-legged on the bed, tapping his pencil against a newspaper. "Police report says they died of blood loss."
"Great, Dracula's got a taste for veal," said Dean, knocking back his drink, "Well, we'll go look for the lair in the morning, too dark to do anything now."
"I didn't think traditional vampires went for babies," said Sam, "What if it's something else?"
"Let me know if you think of something Poindexter." said Dean, pouring yet another shot. Sam counted this as the sixth in the last hour, and for a moment the room was quiet save for Janis Joplin wailing Ball and Chain on their little radio.
"You okay?" Sam asked.
Dean rubbed his face. "Fine, just...weird day is all."
"Yeah, same." said Sam, fidgeting on the bed as if he were working himself up to ask something. "Um, hey, when you were my age, did you ever know any girls who would...ya know, get together?"
Dean looked over at him. "What, girl on girl?"
"Not for real," Sam said, the for real echoing hotly in Dean's memory, "It's like they were practicing."
"Oh that," said Dean blearily, "Yeah chicks do that, though once they start going with boys, they pretty much quit."
Sam sat up from the bed, slowly as if approaching a sleeping wolf. "I wasn't even sure if they liked it, the acting out. They were reading to each other out of a novel."
Dean felt the whiskey burn in his gut, softening the edges around Sam's face as he inched closer. The kid was barefoot, dressed only in some jean cutoffs and a thin white shirt criss-crossed with dirty fingerprints on the bottom, but he smelled like grass and salt and summer clouds.
"So they were fucking?" asked Dean, hoping the bad word would put them back on the right footing, of two guys just shooting the breeze, and not this strange, foreboding feeling that something was waiting for him, stalking him on cat's feet.
"No, it was just kissing." said Sam, now standing over him, the lamp light casting a shadow that ran up over the bed and against the headboard, "But one of the girls said something, when they asked if she liked it or not."
"Yeah?" asked Dean, breathing quietly thru his mouth as he looked up, too drunk to be scared.
"She said, this doesn't count."
Sam leaned over, placing his fingers gently on either side of Dean's face, drawing himself in closer and asking, "Can I...?"
Dean didn't move, not wondering why he needed to give permission, numb from the alcohol as Sam kissed him gently on the mouth. It didn't feel like much of anything, and only lasted a second before Sam pulled away. "It's okay, you can pretend I'm someone else." Sam whispered.
He leaned in for another kiss, and this time Dean responded, though he had to grip the arm chairs to keep the rest of his body from leaning in. He told himself, this doesn't count, the kid is just practicing, this doesn't count, and thought that as long as they kept it at this, everything would be okay, it wouldn't change anything.
But the kiss deepened, and Sam worked his mouth open so that he could breath, panting into Dean's mouth, his lips hot and needy. His hands reached around, fingertips trailing the bristle hairs on the back of Dean's neck, until his arms were wrapped around his neck. "Dean, please..."
The sound of his own name woke him up, and he threw up a hand to push Sam away, but he wasn't fast enough. Sam took his hand, and began to pull him toward the bed. "Please..." he pleaded, laying down slowly and pressing Dean's palm to his belly, "Please help me. It's like something's got a hold of me."
Sam was young, but he was near to having a man's build, all flat muscle and skin browned by the sun except for the pale shadow around the hem of his jeans. His belly was hot as he panted under Dean's touch, and the older boy couldn't help but feel the same way, as he felt Sam's blood pumping beneath his hand.
"We don't have to do, ya know..." Sam assured him, as he pulled at him, "Just...lay here, with me."
The room was so hot that Dean could hardly breathe, and all the loneliness that had been pooling in his stomach like a hot brick was suddenly crying out for someone to touch him, to want him.
Sam looked up, long hair in his eyes as he waited for an answer, when suddenly there came a knock at the door.
Dean's hand flew off of Sam as if burned, and opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it, and turned to see who it was.
"Hey baby boy." said a female voice. Mrs. Dentist filled the doorway, all shiny red lipstick and large breasts that jutted through her expensive silk blouse. "I told the folks I was spending the night at Holly's, you busy?"
"Um..." Dean stammered, leaning against the doorframe, though whether to balance himself or keep her out, Sam couldn't tell, "Kind of, what's up?"
She lifted a brown paper bag and lifted out a plate. "I got you pie."
Sam pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling his stomach twist as he heard the trap shut.
Dean did his best, gesturing feebly at the stack of "homework" he was supposed to be doing, but his eyes strayed to her shirt, and the way she bit her lip as she smiled coyly up at him.
"Your brother can sleep in the car, right?" she said, as she stepped into the room and picked up a blanket from the nearest bed.
Sam looked up at Dean, his eyes pleading for her to be sent away.
But Dean was too confused by all the sudden demands being made on him, and was too slow to react when Mrs. Dentist tossed Sam the keys, the blanket, and began to push him out the door. "Don't worry," she said viciously, "You can have him when I'm done with him."
The door slammed, and as the lock turned and the blinds fell to obscure the room, Sam fell slowly to his knees, clutching the blanket to his mouth, utterly betrayed.
"Hey baby," she said, her voice clearly heard thru the cracked window, "Did you miss me?"
Though Dean looked a little scared of her, showing up unannounced and all, he quickly got back into character and smiled, putting his hands on her hips. "Sure I did."
She smiled, and playfully pushed him onto the bed. "I've been wanting this," she said, as she got on her knees and unfastened his pants, "For so long."
Sam tried to look away, tried to stop the tears as she unloosed his erection and smiled at it appraisingly, her red lips stretching hungrily. "You were ready for me I see."
That was for me, Sam thought, the pavement scraping his knees as he sat helplessly.
She took it into her mouth, and he let out a little noise of surprise, his cheeks flushing as he willed himself to keep his hands at his side. She looked up at him as she worked, satisfied at his response, at the way he shivered and strained against her.
Pulling his pants off and tossing them on the floor, she stood up before him and pulled off her clothes, letting the silk blouse drift to the carpet as she climbed up to straddle him.
"Do you know what kind of pie I gotcha?" she said, teasing his cock with her wet pussy. On the bed, the little plastic dish sat nearby, and she reached out to it.
He still had his hands beside him, not wanting to hold her though his body clearly wanted her, and Sam wondered pitifully if maybe Dean would kick her out at the last second, would realize she wouldn't really make him happy.
Poking a hole in the pie wedge, she pulled out a long, sticky red finger and began to draw a circle around her nipple. Dean watched it, inches from his face, his cock aching to be inside of her as she rubbed against the tip.
"Sour cherry." she said. And drawing his mouth to her breast, she came down, his cock plunging the full length inside of her, and finally Dean caved, his arms wrapped around her like a drowning man.
Outside, tears spilled down Sam's cheeks, the radio wailing in the background as he felt his heart break.