Dean watched Sam as he studied, nose buried in his history book. He was such a little nerd, so dedicated to his education and trying to soak up as much knowledge as he could. Dean loved that about him though, no matter how much he gave him shit for it.
He also loved the way Sam's slender body was starting to tone in all the right places. Even his collarbones were more defined and Dean licked his lips subconsciously as he admired them. He had a strong urge to get his tongue and teeth into that little nook just above the clavicle and watch Sam squirm…
"Dean, stop staring at me and do your homework," Sam mumbled without looking up.
"I'm not staring at you," Dean protested, glancing down at the book of demonic symbols and rituals that his father was making him study. He tapped his pencil against his notebook self-consciously, trying to resist looking back up at Sam.
"Liar," Sam accused, glancing up at Dean just as Dean's eyes lifted back to him.
"Why would I wanna look at your dork face?" Dean teased, smirking.
"'Cause I'm the better looking brother."
"Whatever you say, Sammy."
They both chuckled and turned their attention to their work, but Dean's thoughts roamed to just how good looking Sam really was.
"So, any cute girls at your school, Sam?" he asked, giving up on his work completely. He closed his book and tossed down his pencil, studying his brother instead.
"Seriously, Dean. I need to study," Sam sighed, his cheeks flushing red.
"C'mon, indulge me. I'm bored."
Sam frowned and met his big brother's gaze, chewing at the inside of his lip. "Do we really have to talk about this?"
"Why not? There a specific girl? Or are you just into guys?" Dean waggled his eyebrows and laughed as Sam blushed some more and closed his book.
"I'm going outside," he grumbled, pushing back his chair rather forcefully as he stood up.
"Whoa, kid, chill," Dean sighed. "I was just joking around. C'mon, sit back down and talk to me; how was school today?"
Sam watched him hesitantly, waiting for him to crack another joke most likely, and then sat back down.
"It was alright," he replied, shrugging. "Got an A on my Geometry test."
"That's awesome, Sammy," Dean said, genuinely proud of his brother. "You always were the smart one."
"Don't sell yourself short, Dean. If you'd actually apply yourself you'd see that you're pretty smart yourself."
"Yeah, well…I've already got my career figured out. I'm a hunter—always will be."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know."
"Got a problem with that?" Dean wondered, not missing the disappointment in Sam's voice.
He shrugged again and leaned back in his chair as he admitted quietly, "Just scared you'll get yourself killed."
Dean smiled softly at that and leaned across the little motel room table. He rested his hand over Sam's, savoring the contact, and assured him, "That's not gonna happen, Sammy."
"And how do you know that?" Sam looked so vulnerable and afraid; it broke Dean's heart.
"Because I'm not leaving you," he promised, squeezing Sam's hand. "As long as you still need me, I'll be here."
Sam gazed at him steadily and replied, "You know that's forever, right?"
"I hope it is." The idea of Sam not needing him anymore—of him going his own way—was more terrifying than any monster they had faced.
He realized as they held each other's stares that he was still holding onto Sam's hand and he reluctantly released it. However, he didn't get far before Sam was grabbing his hand, grasping it tightly.
"Dean?" he muttered, his voice wavering.
Sam licked his lips anxiously and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Dean's heart was racing as he waited for his little brother to speak. There was something in his eyes, fear warring with a desperate need to say whatever was on his mind.
Dean didn't want to entertain the idea that maybe Sam felt the same—that he loved his big brother in more than the platonic way he should—because if Dean was wrong that would only crush him.
"I, uh…just want you to know I love ya, man," Sam finished, pulling his hand back to his side of the table.
"Yeah. Love you, too, Sammy." Love you so much. So much more than I should. "I'm gonna go get a shower—let you nerd out for a while."
"Alright." Sam focused on his homework again and Dean watched him for a moment, his heart sinking and swelling at the same time.
After a moment Dean stood and headed to the bathroom, his mind racing. He knew his feelings for Sam were supposed to be wrong—that John would probably kill him for even entertaining thoughts like this—but that never stopped it. That never stopped Dean from snuggling a little closer to Sam than he should at night or from admiring his brothers newly acquired muscles when he was shirtless after a shower.
It was still Sam's name he moaned when he was alone, wishing it was his little brother's hand stroking his cock. It was still his Sammy's face he saw in his mind whenever he was buried inside some girl, trying to be normal and failing miserably.
And most of all, it was Sam that he thought of whenever a victim of the supernatural sobbed over the loved one that Dean couldn't save. When he saw that loss and emptiness in their eyes he imagined just how broken and lost he would be without the person he loved most in the world—that he loved in every way possible.
As he climbed under the hot stream of water he closed his eyes and imagined that Sam was there with him. He did his best to conjure up the feeling of his little brother pressed behind him, his soft mouth exploring Dean's neck and his hot, hard length pressed against his ass. Dean pictured the strong, slender hands roaming slowly down his chest, stroking and teasing him.
When Dean's hand wrapped around his cock it was already fully stiff and he let out a soft groan, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip.
In his mind it was Sam touching him, reaching around him and pumping his dick. It was Sam's fingers caressing the entrance of Dean's ass, teasing the rim and lightly pushing against the first ring of muscle.
"Fuck…," he muttered, leaning back against the cool tile and letting the water run over his chest. "Sammy…"
That name felt so right on his tongue. It was like a sacrament; the holiest word he could ever utter, and as much as the lustful rasp in his voice should taint Sam's nickname it only made it sound better.
Dean's hips began to roll and he fucked into his fist hard and quick.
Knock, knock, knock.
Dean's eyes flew open as he heard the soft tap at the door and he did his best to steady his voice as he called, "Yeah?"
"I just need to grab something; can I come in for a sec?" Sam asked.
Dean groaned softly and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, holding back the orgasm creeping up on him. "Sure, go 'head."
The door creaked open and Dean heard Sam enter the bathroom, rummaging around in the jeans he'd left lying on the floor.
Dean's heart hammered wildly and he slowly slid his hand up his cock, his thumb caressing the head. He was so close and so hard it was painful and knowing Sam was only a few feet away didn't help at all.
"Dean, did you steal my lighter again?" Sam accused.
Fuck. Seriously, Sam? Now?
"The hell do you even need a lighter for?" Despite his best efforts, Dean's voice still sounded pretty wrecked.
There was silence for a moment, only the sounds of Sam's feet shifting on the floor and the water that still fell almost unnoticed on Dean. He wondered if Sam was about to confess to smoking pot or something, but when the silence was finally broken the words his little brother spoke caught him completely off guard.
"There aren't any cute girls at my school. At least I don't think so."
Dean stared at the water as it poured down, the confusion he felt at Sam's words taking his mind off how badly he wanted to come.
"We're gonna talk about this now?" Dean questioned, wishing Sam would either get lost or get his ass in the shower, too.
More silence followed by more shuffling. Sam was nervous and Dean didn't have to see him to tell.
"There's…there's a guy, Dean," Sam stammered, nearly breathless and his voice quivering.
Dean was slightly stunned by the nauseating jealousy that roiled through him when he heard that. His arousal completely waned and he choked back the smart ass comment he wanted to make.
A girl he could sort of handle. It was what was expected of Sam and he could find a way to deal with it. But a guy? Someone who might get to be with Sam in ways no girl could? The idea of anyone but him being inside of Sam made him sick.
"Uh…well…hey, whatever does it for you, Sam." Dean could barely force the words out, but he had to support his brother. He knew this took a lot of guts for Sam to admit.
"Dean…that's not all I wanna say, but I need you to promise you won't be mad at me, okay? No matter what I say, don't get pissed. Please."
Oh, god…what else could there be? Dean held his breath, and then released it in a swift gust as he said, "I promise."
"Okay…" He heard Sam take a deep breath and mutter, "Okay, here goes nothin'…it's…it's you, Dean. The guy is you."
Dean went completely still, pressed back against the wall and his breath growing shallow. Had he heard Sam right?
"Me?" Dean muttered, eyes roaming in Sam's general direction. No fuckin' way…it can't be…
"You're freaking, aren't you?" Sam choked, voice breaking.
"No, no! Sammy, no, I'm not freaking, I'm just…" Just what? Fucking overjoyed? Did that even cover it?
He peaked around the curtain, meeting his brother's terrified gaze, and smiled broadly.
"Sam, how long?" he asked, staring at Sam in wonder.
"Uh…I dunno, like…forever," Sam mumbled, obviously stunned by how well Dean was taking things. His cheeks were bright red and his green eyes shined hopefully.
It took everything Dean had not to just jump out of the shower and kiss Sam senseless. He had to proceed with caution. Sam was young and this whole moment could shatter if Dean made the wrong move.
"Holy shit…," Dean said simply, clutching at the shower curtain like it was a lifeline. "Me, too…"
He could practically see Sam's heart skip a beat, something switching inside of him and lighting his face up.
"How long for you?"
"Always, Sammy. Always."
Sam stood in the middle of the steam filled bathroom, eyes wide and blissful, but so unsure.
Dean knew exactly how he must be feeling. This old, heavy secret was finally freed—an unimaginable weight lifted—but where did that leave them? How did they proceed?
"Dean…can I kiss you?" Sam asked breathlessly, so nervous and painstakingly innocent.
Dean's head spun and he found himself growing hard all over again. Fuck yes, he wanted Sam to kiss him right there while he was in the shower, but he knew he couldn't allow that. It would just make both of them crave so much more.
"Hell yes, you can, but not right now," Dean sighed, cursing the responsible adult in him that only seemed to come out at the worst times. "Let me finish my shower real quick and we'll talk, okay?"
Sam nodded self-consciously and left the bathroom, leaving Dean half-hard and weak in the knees.
He quickly worked on getting himself off, knowing that if he didn't come before he kissed Sam for the first time that he'd have a hard time resisting any further advances his surprisingly bold little brother might make.
When his shower was over he dressed quickly and headed out into their room. He found Sam sitting at the end of the nearest bed, fidgeting with the hem of his flannel. His eyes roamed to Dean and he swallowed nervously, gaze eager.
Dean sighed, hardly able to believe the implications behind that look. Sam wanted him, too. This was actually happening.
He sat next to his brother and smiled softly at him. "No need to be so scared, baby boy. You know you're safe with me, right?"
Even in this he was safe. No judgment, no pressure. However Sam wanted to play things, Dean was okay with it.
"I know, I just…I've never kissed anyone before," Sam admitted quietly.
"Jesus, Sammy…," Dean muttered, unable to believe how lucky he was. "It's alright—it's easy. And I'm gonna like it no matter what."
Sam smiled back at him now, some of his fear falling away.
Dean leaned into him, willing his hand not to tremble as it cupped Sam's face. He didn't want Sam to know that he was afraid, too. Afraid of all this going away—of his brother deciding this wasn't what he wanted after all.
However, it became very clear that fear was pointless as Sam hesitantly closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together. They rested there for a short moment, both boys savoring the contact, and then Sam groaned softly with relief as Dean's mouth began to move.
This had to be better than heaven; better than anything. Sam's mouth was so warm and soft, opening eagerly and letting Dean lead. The kiss was slow and curious, both of them exploring one another's mouths and Dean allowing Sam time to get the hang of things.
He didn't seem to have much trouble. Always the studious one, he copied Dean's motions with surprising confidence and soon no one was leading. It was just a sensual melding of their lips and tongues that had every inch of Dean's body weak with desire.
Sam grew steadily braver, his hands leaving his lap as he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. Dean let out a soft moan, deepening the kiss and pulling Sam against his chest.
He knew in the back of his mind that he was going to have to end this soon—that if he didn't he was going to wind up fighting down urges he refused to act on. Hell yes, he wanted Sam in every way possible, but he couldn't have that. Not yet. Sam was too young.
And so, as his cock threatened to fill again, Dean regretfully broke the seal of their lips and pressed his forehead against Sam's.
"That was perfect, Sammy," he breathed, resting his hands on Sam's hips.
"So why'd you stop?" Sam teased, biting his bottom lip and staring at Dean longingly.
"'Cause we gotta talk about this. You know we do."
"What is there to talk about? We both feel this way and now we know it. That's a good thing, right?" Doubt lingered in Sam's eyes and Dean quickly kissed it away.
"Yeah, baby boy, it's a great thing, but we gotta think about Dad." Dad, who would throttle Dean for laying a finger on Sam in what he thought was the wrong way.
Sam sighed, some of his joy falling away at that. "We'll just have to keep it a secret…"
Dean understood his disappointment all too well. Sitting there holding each other like that…he could do it forever. But when John got back they'd have to sneak even the smallest kiss.
"Yeah, I guess we will. But Dad won't be home for another day, so for now…" He pulled Sam even closer and leaned down, placing a slow, gentle kiss to that spot above Sam's collar bone that he had been eyeing earlier.
His brother shivered, one of his hands wrapping around the fabric of Dean's shirt.
Eager to see what other reactions he could get, Dean swept his tongue over that little nook and then nipped at the bone playfully.
Sam gave a little gasp at that and tilted his head, making more of his neck available.
Dean groaned, gripping the back of Sam's hair and trying his hardest to resist the invitation. He wanted to kiss every inch of his baby brother, but he couldn't.
"Sam, we should stop…," he sighed, resting his head on Sam's shoulder and trying to reign in his desire.
God, he was so innocent and so painfully eager. It was going to be the death of Dean.
"You're fifteen. I can't…no matter how bad I want to, I can't do more than this. Just kiss you and hold you."
He felt Sam sink under him, disappointment obvious in the slump of his shoulders.
"But Dean…I want to," Sam whispered weakly, burying his face in his big brother's neck self-consciously.
Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ.
"I can't, Sam…not yet." He respected Sam and no matter how right it might feel to them, it was illegal and he didn't want to give John a reason to put him away.
"We don't have to do everything," Sam pressed, gathering the guts to look up at Dean. "We could just…"
He swallowed anxiously and slowly crawled his way onto Dean's lap, straddling his thighs. He glanced down at the obvious bulges of their cocks, straining against their jeans, and rolled his hips tentatively.
Dean's fingers bit into Sam's hip and he practically whimpered at the contact, his brother's assertiveness breaking whatever self-restraint he had left.
He made a desperate, strangled noise and crushed his mouth against Sam's. He could justify this. After all, he'd done plenty of the on-top-of-the-clothes fooling around when he was fifteen. Why shouldn't Sam get that, too?
In no time they were a tangle of limbs, laid out on the bed and wrapped tightly around each other as years of longing came bursting out of them. Dean's tongue lashed against Sam's and his hands roamed up his back under his flannel, reveling in the feel of the smooth, lean muscles Sam had developed over the past year or two.
"Fuck, Sammy, you feel so good…" Dean rutted against Sam, burying his face in his neck and showering it with hungry, open mouthed kisses. "Taste good, too."
Sam was apparently past the point of words. He was gripping Dean's hips until his knuckles were white, moaning and whimpering as he tried to wrap himself even further around Dean.
"Bet this isn't the only part of you that tastes good," Dean whispered, lips caressing Sam's ear. "Bet you taste fuckin' awesome all over, baby boy…'specially right here." He thrust his hips forward with extra force, enunciating his words with his body.
"Dean," Sam hissed, hands roaming to his brother's ass and silently urging him to move faster. "Dean, you're gonna make me—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence. He was cut off by the sharp pleasure of Dean biting down on his earlobe and throwing his leg over Sam's to get better friction. The new angle was too much and Sam's orgasm came crashing over him.
Dean leaned back, wanting to watch the beauty that was his baby brother coming for him. He soaked up the raw, uninhibited pleasure that washed over Sam's face and listened to the desperate way his voice cracked as he cried out, "Oh, god, Dean."
That was all he could take. He was right behind Sam, groaning his brother's name through clenched teeth as he made a mess of his jeans and boxers.
They lay there, panting and staring at each other in awe as the reality of what had just taken place sunk in. There was no going back now—no pretending this never happened. The truth was out and the relief that Dean felt was overwhelming.
"Dean…isn't this supposed to feel wrong?" Sam mused, trailing his fingers up Dean's spine. "Because it doesn't."
"No, Sammy. It's not. 'Cause there's not a damn thing wrong with how we feel about each other." Because I love you, Sam. I love you more than anything.
He didn't have to say it out loud. Sam must have seen it in his eyes, which were threatening to fill with tears, because he whispered, "I love you, too, Dean."
Dean didn't have words. He just pulled Sam into his arms, pressing him tightly to his chest and kissing him deeply. He was overwhelmed by the surge of love for Sam that ran through him—by the sheer joy of finally being with him. All those nights aching just to hold him—hell, to touch him—and there they were...grasping onto each other like the world had fallen away around them and they were the only things left to cling to.
"I love you. So much. I need you to know that." He needed Sam to know that there truly wasn't anything wrong or dirty about what had just happened between them—that Dean's desire for him was rooted in love, pure and indescribable.
"I know, Dean," Sam replied softly, resting his head on Dean's chest and absentmindedly tracing patterns with his forefinger on his stomach. "I'm glad it was you…the first time…"
Dean smiled, unable to help wishing that Sam could be his first kiss, too. "Well, if it means anything, you're the first one that matters. Those girls…they were just to keep my mind off you. Not that it really worked."
He stroked Sam's hair lightly and just let it sink in that this was real. It had always been Sam, for as long as he could remember. Sam that he had wanted to kiss when he first decided that was something worth trying and Sam that had given him butterflies for the first time. He hadn't even really known what it was about then, just that his brother made him happy and had always been there and he loved him.
"That's good enough for me," Sam said contentedly, sitting up and smiling down at Dean. "We should probably clean up…"
He glanced down at his jeans, which were soaked through with come, and blushed.
"Yeah…" Dean let his mind wander to the two of them cleaning each other off in the shower, but only for a brief moment. "Why don't you go first? I'm not really ready to get up just yet."
Sam nodded and leaned down, kissing Dean lightly before he moved from the bed and headed into the bathroom.
Dean stared after him, a small smile curling on his face. He knew the road ahead of them wasn't always going to be this blissful, but it was worth whatever obstacles they might have to face. As long as Dean could wrap Sammy in his arms at night, hold him close, and know that he loved him back, that was enough to get through anything.