Untitled #3 (Slash, Adult)
May. 10th, 2007 02:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixel_0Title: Untitled #3
Rating: Adult
Category: Pre-series slash (Wincest) oneshot
Word Count: 3862
Characters: Dean/Sam, John, OCs
Spoilers: None
Summary: The first summer that John leaves them alone.
Warnings: Underage brother incest (Sam is 15)
Author’s Notes: Originally written April 11, 2007 for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drvsilla’s birthday. (However, because I’m a paranoid worrier, I fretted about it for far too long. So, I am posting it now before I continue to overthink this to death.) Dru, hun, I think I should just stick to the little red airplanes in the shower from now on. This is your birthday fic, the thank you for the paid account fic, and the yay chirpy force fic. It’s not enough, but it’s a start.
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
One
The road is graveled dirt, lined with the blurred green of trees and hushed white topped mountains in the far distance. Dad drives, while Dean slouches in the passenger seat and gazes out his opened window, knuckles brought to his mouth. The air coming in the car is warm, and as it blows through Sam’s hair, he decides that it smells of everything good in the world.
“How long will you be gone?” Dean asks when the car jostles over a dip in the road to make his fist slide away from his lips just long enough to speak.
Dad shifts in his seat. “Shouldn’t be more than two months.”
“You know, I can take care of Sammy. You don’t need somebody to baby-sit us.”
John sighs because this is what Dean has been arguing for days now, and Sam, from his backseat perspective, thinks that maybe their dad will finally relent. But John shakes his head. “No, I think it’s the best this way…I owe Jacob a favor anyway. What else are you planning on doing to stay out of trouble?”
Dean doesn’t answer. Instead, he asks about the hunt, where their dad is going and what he’s after this time, as if he asks enough questions and shows enough interest, John will allow him to come along too.
Sam closes his eyes against the conversation. He’s fifteen and everything in life is sweeter than it was only last year. Dean is all that is on his mind now, and with the fresh air filling Sam’s senses to an intoxicating level, Sam decides that this summer will be about the two of them. Just the two of them. No more.
When Sam unconsciously starts to smile to himself, Dean comments from the front seat, “Boy, Sammy, you sure look happy back there. Got something good on your mind?”
Sam opens his eyes slowly, just enough to see Dean’s face peeking around his seat. “Yeah, I do,” Sam says with a smirk. He wonders if Dean has any idea of what Sam is planning to do with their time away from Dad.
- - - - -
Two
John introduces them to Jacob who wears faded overalls and has big, chapped hands stained with soil. Dad told them that Jacob used to be a hunter until he married a plantation owner’s daughter and had four children. Together with his wife, Jacob runs the plantation of her father where local students come to work for the extra summer help. Sam and Dean, John says, will be joining these kids, picking the fruit and doing any chores that Jacob asks of them.
After John leaves with promises of good behavior from the boys, Jacob shows them to one of the guesthouses on the edge of the property behind the orchard. The apples are still green on the branches, hard and bitter in their immaturity.
“John said you two should stay in the main house with me,” Jacob says as he opens the door on the little cabin to allow Sam and Dean inside. “Said you boys would keep out of trouble that way. But, the way I’m lookin’ at it is that you’re both old enough to stay out here on your own. Don’t need me or the missus leaning over your shoulder.”
Once they’re settled, Jacob tells them that supper will be ready in about an hour and that they can unload their things so they can get comfortable. When he walks outside again, he leaves the door open to allow the dust in the corners of the room to be lifted up and out of the building.
“You really think Dad will be gone two months?” Sam asks as he unloads his clothes and folds them neatly in his dresser. The organization helps his spinning mind relax. Not to focus on the fact that it will be just Dean and him for longer than a week.
“No. Longer,” Dean answers curtly, sinking onto the bed in defeat. “It’s always longer than he says.”
Sam, ignoring his clothes, sits down on the mattress next to Dean, and he watches his older brother lie on his back. “Maybe this won’t be so bad,” Sam tries. “You never know. It could be…okay.”
Dean looks up to Sam’s earnest face. For a long moment, Dean doesn’t say anything, and then he rises to his feet. He ruffles Sam’s hair as he walks by with a swish of his blue jeans. “I’m going to go check out the place. Wanna come? We still got time before dinner.”
From Dean’s trivial touch, Sam’s heart is racing again, and he has to stop his voice from cracking when says, “Sure, I guess.” In the doorway, Dean is framed by the fat evening sun, and his smile is brilliant, brighter than Sam thought possible.
- - - - -
Three
They rise not long after sunrise every morning, and they stumble from their cabin with sleep still in their eyes. Alongside the other students and the year round help, they pick the fruit so many times that their fingers are stained with the juices of their labor. Meals are always big and filling where they eat with all the workers, Jacob, and his family, at a big table in the main house where someone always has a story to tell with a joke to follow.
Muscles that Sam was not even aware of having ache when he slips into bed at night, but it is a comforting pain that he finds himself enjoying. He pops all his blisters during that first week and lets them scab over to darker calluses. His skin burns with sexuality, tingles and zips, and some days, he feels almost drunk with the feeling.
He wonders if he has ever been so alive as he is this summer.
- - - - -
Four
Sam knows exactly what he wants, but a part of him is still too afraid to step forward and go to Dean. Often while he is working, he allows his mind to drift away, and he wonders if maybe he’s only fooling himself. Maybe he doesn’t really want Dean after all. Maybe it’s just his crazed teenage hormones speaking instead.
But then he looks over his shoulder and sees Dean laughing with one of the girls who is spending the summer at the plantation. She giggles with a petite hand over her mouth as Dean glances from her face to her chest. When she reaches up and plays with Dean’s amulet around his neck, Sam swears violently, and he knows for certain that he’s not being fooled by any stupid hormones.
This is what he wants. Dean is what he wants.
So he storms past Dean and immaturely throws berries at his brother’s head. “Hey, Sammy…?” Dean says, reaching up to his face where splattered berries ooze down his skin.
Sam doesn’t respond. Instead of facing his problem, he turns and runs while Dean calls out his name in confusion. Sam’s heart is pounding, and his head in whirling with admissions he’ll never say. I want to do these things to you that I’ve seen only in the movies. But, you’ve got to promise me that if you don’t want it, then nothing’s going to change between us. And if you can’t promise that, then I won’t try.
- - - - -
Five
At night with the room dark, Sam jerks off, knowing that Dean is right next to him and hoping that Dean can hear his breathy little sighs. Sam snaps his hips beneath the sheets with his hand dancing over his cock. He thrusts upward into his hot fist, groaning, and when he’s close to coming, he twists his head and looks over at Dean. Expecting to see his older brother turned away, Sam’s orgasm breaks through him when he realizes that Dean has been watching him the entire time.
As he returns to earth, and he lies still to catch his breath, he waits. Waits simply for Dean to acknowledge him and what is happening between them. When the sensations are beginning to subside at last and his come is cooling on his belly, Dean rolls out of his bed.
Violently, Dean flings his blankets back in a fierce snap, and his feet slap the floor in the dark. “Fuck, Sam,” Dean growls. He leaves the cabin, and the door slams angrily behind him.
- - - - -
Six
While they are working side by side, Dean takes off his shirt and wraps it around his waist. Sam’s eyes widen, and he wonders if this is Dean’s way of getting back at him for that one night.
“What are you doing?” Sam asks after he’s cleared his throat. He tries not to stare at Dean’s tanned chest and his flexed arms, at the slicked nape of his neck where beads of sweat gather and slide together.
“It’s too damned hot,” Dean mutters, reaching up to grab a handful of berries. “Going to die of heat stroke if I don’t do something.” He pauses to sigh and stretch his arms above his head to crack his back. Beneath his skin, the muscles dance and twitch, and Sam hopes his gaping isn’t obvious. “Why? Does it bother you?”
“No,” Sam lies, turning his attention away and trying to pretend that the cluster of fruit is far more appealing than seeing his brother’s naked torso. “No, just wondering if it’s smart with all these girls wanting to jump you.”
Dean snickers. “I’m sure I can handle myself around girls, Sammy,” he says as he moves onto the next bush.
Inwardly, Sam groans to himself. He should have known that Dean would play hard to get. Should have known that Dean wouldn’t play fair. Sam curses. Dirty bastard.
- - - - -
Seven
It’s a push and a pull. One step closer, then two steps back. Never quite reaching, never quite having, never quite being together as Sam is so firmly convinced that they should be. If he wants something this much, it can’t be wrong. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
- - - - -
Eight
Sam sits on his bed, listening to the splashing water fill the bathtub behind the closed bathroom door. It’s been an exhausting day, and his muscles cry with every movement. After a moment of silence inside his own head, he walks to the bathroom, shedding his clothing and dropping it in piles as he reaches the door. He’s too damn tired to care about such things as “repercussions” right now. Naked, he doesn’t bother to knock, and he twists the handle with shaking fingers. He enters with his heart in his throat.
Startled, Dean looks up with a splash. Water sloshes over the edge of the claw foot tub as he reaches for a towel. “Sam?” he says, voice cracking.
Instead of answering, Sam moves closer to the bathtub. Dean stops searching for a towel, and he pulls his legs up to his chest as best he can. His eyes are focused on Sam’s face and nothing more.
Carefully, so he doesn’t slip, Sam climbs into the tub. It’s barely big enough to hold the both of them, and his feet bounce against Dean’s under the water. Their skin is slippery smooth over each other.
“Sam…Sam, what are you doing?” Dean asks.
Sam swallows back his nervousness and his fear. If he doesn’t try, he’ll never know, and he has to know.
“Doing something about this,” Sam replies. He leans forward, out of the water and over Dean. Taking Dean’s face between his hands like he’s seen Dean do to girls before, Sam kisses his older brother. It’s light and dry, barely more than a whisper of passing lips, but when Sam pulls away, his head is spinning nonetheless.
There is a long moment of silence until finally Dean speaks. “God. It’s about time.” He pulls Sam in again like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.
- - - - -
Nine
They kiss beneath the apples trees while the other workers are away on lunch break. Dean worries they’ll be spotted. Sam assures that no one will see them out here. Above their heads, the apples are fat and red, shining under the hot noon sun.
Dean presses Sam against the tree and runs his fingers underneath the hem of Sam’s shirt. “Please, Dean,” Sam whispers, mouthing wet circles along Dean’s rough jawline and pushing his hips forward against his brother. Sam knows what he wants is risky, but he’s willing to take the chance just to find that sweet release.
Dean shakes his head. Kisses are innocent, but for what Sam asks is not. Yet, Sam continues to thrust weakly against Dean’s leg with pleas on his tongue until finally Dean gives in. He undoes Sam’s pants right there and wraps his fingers around Sam’s cock. With the birds singing overhead, Sam comes in a series of frantic huffs, but Dean is the one who closes his eyes.
- - - - -
Ten
When it rains through the morning and into the afternoon, Jacob tells them to take the day off. Everything’s too wet to do any real work. With whoops and cheers, the other kids go into town for a movie and ice cream. Sam and Dean lock the door on their cabin and stay behind.
“How long have you wanted this?” Sam asks as he lies naked on top his older brother. Dean, shirtless with his pants unzipped, is running his hand down the warm skin of Sam’s back.
Dean chuckles, only a flash of teeth. “Long enough to make it wrong.” He glances away for a moment, then returns to meet Sam’s eyes. Outside, the rain is pounding steadily against the window, and the sky is thick gray. “Not that this isn’t wrong now…”
“No,” Sam says, stopping him. He speaks between kisses to Dean’s forehead and cheeks, to his collarbone and bare chest. “No, this is us. This is right.” Resting his cheek against the soft skin by Dean’s hip, he sighs softly. “This is exactly the way it’s supposed to be.”
When Dean doesn’t answer him, Sam lifts his head to look up. Dean is staring at him peculiarly, and in a part of him older than the rest, Sam wonders if this is the first time anyone has ever loved Dean like he does.
“You know we can’t tell anybody about this,” Dean says to break the silence, reaching out and caressing Sam’s face with the backs of his fingers.
“I know. It’s just us.”
“Just us,” Dean repeats. When Sam moves up again and kisses him on the lips, opening his mouth fully to taste his brother, Dean wraps his arms around Sam. He pulls Sam in tightly, afraid to let him go.
- - - - -
Eleven
They’ve finished dinner and are exiting Jacob’s house when two of the students pull them aside. The students are a little older than Dean—college age with a few extra inches—and they’ve always treated Sam decently, but right now, a sense of warning flares up inside him.
“So you two are brothers?” one of them asks.
“Yeah,” Sam replies, glancing from Dean’s stoic face to the smirk on the college kids’.
“Hm,” the guy murmurs sarcastically. “Now, I don’t know a lot about this whole ‘country’ thing, but I think there’re just some things that brothers don’t do together.”
“Look, if you’ve got something to say,” Dean snaps, “spit it out.”
The college boys glance over at one another. “We’ve seen you two.” They pause, searching for the brothers’ reactions but finding none. “You two have been making out like a bunch of high school kids.” They stare at Dean. “What? You can’t get any girls your own age, so you have to fuck your baby brother? Dude, that’s just—”
Sam’s jab to the nose cuts him off, causing the other college boy to jump in with a punch to Sam’s jaw. Suddenly, Dean is there in a flash. He’s quick and violent, and by the time Sam looks up, both of the students are holding bloody noses and cursing under their breath.
“Mind your own goddamn business next time,” Dean growls after he kicks one of them to the ground. “And know who you’re messing with before you try to fuck with somebody.”
As the college students hiss something about “sick family fag,” Dean wraps his arm around Sam. “C’mon, Sammy,” he whispers, brushing Sam’s bangs away from his face, “let’s get out of here.” Sam sighs, and he leans into Dean and his comfort.
- - - - -
Twelve
They’ve been together for hours, starting with how they slid over one another in the warm bathwater and now beneath the blankets on the bed, they lie with their cocks pressed against each other. Sam keeps pushing harder down into Dean, wanting more than he can have right now. “Dean,” Sam whines, curling his back and burying his face into the pillows gathered beside them. His skin prickles, and he doesn’t think he can come once more tonight, but then Dean thrusts up into him, and the heat sparks through Sam again.
Then, ripping through his mind, the door is being slammed open, their precious lock for the first time forgotten, and a voice Sam had tried to forget is thundering through the room. Sam doesn’t have enough time to react, and John is by the bed in too few strides. He grabs Sam by the arm and yanks him away from Dean. Sam trips over his own legs, and he tumbles to the floor where he frantically searches for something to cover himself, but his clothes are on the other side of his father.
Dean’s eyes are wild and panicked, and apologies are already spilling from his lips as he gathers the blankets over his naked flesh. But the cloth is no barrier against John Winchester’s anger, for his sheer disgust and shock. Dean receives the brunt of their father’s storm. Ignoring Dean’s jabbering pleas, John accuses him of doing this to his brother, of tricking his brother into this, of participating in this. This. Like it’s something dirty and evil that they need to destroy.
Sam, furious and ashamed, retaliates. His screams stop his father and cause Dean to stare. This isn’t Dean’s fault. This is what Sam wanted. He was the one that forced Dean into it, and Dean tried to stop him the whole time. “You don’t understand!” Sam yells, and before John can respond, Sam whips away and disappears outside.
He wears nothing but his tears, hot and fast, that fall madly down his cheeks as he runs into the darkness, not knowing where else to go.
- - - - -
Thirteen
John finds Sam hunkering beneath one of the apple trees, and he silently tosses Sam a set of clothes. “Get dressed,” John says and turns his back as Sam rises to his feet. His throat burns from yelling, there are scratches on his skin, and his heart is wildly pounding. Everything hurts.
“C’mon,” John says, taking Sam, fully dressed, by the shoulder and leading him away from the cabins.
“Where’s Dean?” Sam asks as he tries to twist away, but his father only clenches his hand tighter.
“We’re going to get out of here for a bit. Just you and me.”
“Where’s Dean?” Sam spits.
At this, John turns Sam around, takes both of his shoulders in his hands and stares down at his youngest son. “You’re not going to see Dean for a long time. I don’t want to hear any more about this. I don’t know what the fuck got in your head, but I’m putting an end to it now.”
In the car, Sam chooses to sit in the back, and he stares out the window with his arms crossed. “Where are we going?” he mutters after they have been on the road for a few hours.
John clears his throat, glances back at Sam through the rearview mirror, and says, “Away.”
- - - - -
Fourteen
When Sam sees his brother again, he has lost track of the time they have spent apart. Dean walks with shoulders slouched in, and he refuses to meet Sam’s eyes when they talk. He looks different, aged and worn, and Sam wants to throw his arms around him, bury his face in Dean’s shirt and whisper everything he has been holding back.
Dad is always watching them, and he never leaves his sons alone for more than a few minutes at a time. Never enough time for anything except questions.
Sam asks, “That night? What happened after I left?”
Dean shrugs absently. “Nothing much…” He looks away, to the bathroom door where Dad’s shower is running loudly. “I…” He sighs heavily. “We shouldn’t have done it, Sammy.”
“But, Dean—” Sam reaches for Dean’s hand, and he loops his fingers through the spaces in Dean’s own. For a moment, Dean looks up, and Sam thinks that yes, Dean hasn’t forgotten them after all.
But after a moment, Dean pulls his hand away, shaking his head, and says, “It was a mistake, okay? We’re not going to do it again.”
Sam recoils like he’s been slapped.
Months upon months later, when Sam leaves for college without explanation, Dean never shows any surprise in the announcement. He never asks why, and Sam figures that Dean has known this was coming the moment their father tore them away from each other.
- - - - -
Fifteen
It’s been ages since that summer and years since Dad’s death. Through the miles together, through the hushed roads and darkened rooms, they find each other again. It’s like that summer all over again when one step forward is just two steps back. When Sam is always questioning and Dean is always hesitant, but then Sam kisses him and Dean kisses back, and just like that, they never left anything behind.
They go to Jacob’s on an impulse and eat dinner with his family. Jacob, if he knew what happened on his farm between the boys, displays no knowledge, and he welcomes them as warmly as he did when they were younger. He asks if they want to stay in their old guesthouse for the night. They accept without hesitation.
Too old now to fit in the bathtub together, Sam takes Dean by the hand and leads him to the apple orchard. The blossoms on the trees are thin and white, closed together beneath the moon, and Sam presses his forehead against Dean’s, bends his head to touch nose to nose. Their breath rolls into the cool spring air in misty little clouds. “I think,” Sam whispers, “this is the closest I’ve ever felt to home.”
Dean pulls away and looks up, eyebrows moving together in confusion. “Why’s that?” he asks. “It was only a few months.”
“Because I found…” Sam shakes his head, smiling privately at the words that are rising in his head and wanting to be spoken.
“Because you found what?” Dean asks curiously.
“You. I found you, and whenever I think about us, I think of here, and that’s home. You’re home.”
Dean only smiles, eyes downcast, bashful almost. Then Sam, as he did that first summer, takes Dean’s face in his hands, and he kisses his brother sweet and slow under the night sky.
End
Rating: Adult
Category: Pre-series slash (Wincest) oneshot
Word Count: 3862
Characters: Dean/Sam, John, OCs
Spoilers: None
Summary: The first summer that John leaves them alone.
Warnings: Underage brother incest (Sam is 15)
Author’s Notes: Originally written April 11, 2007 for
drvsilla’s birthday. (However, because I’m a paranoid worrier, I fretted about it for far too long. So, I am posting it now before I continue to overthink this to death.) Dru, hun, I think I should just stick to the little red airplanes in the shower from now on. This is your birthday fic, the thank you for the paid account fic, and the yay chirpy force fic. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
One
The road is graveled dirt, lined with the blurred green of trees and hushed white topped mountains in the far distance. Dad drives, while Dean slouches in the passenger seat and gazes out his opened window, knuckles brought to his mouth. The air coming in the car is warm, and as it blows through Sam’s hair, he decides that it smells of everything good in the world.
“How long will you be gone?” Dean asks when the car jostles over a dip in the road to make his fist slide away from his lips just long enough to speak.
Dad shifts in his seat. “Shouldn’t be more than two months.”
“You know, I can take care of Sammy. You don’t need somebody to baby-sit us.”
John sighs because this is what Dean has been arguing for days now, and Sam, from his backseat perspective, thinks that maybe their dad will finally relent. But John shakes his head. “No, I think it’s the best this way…I owe Jacob a favor anyway. What else are you planning on doing to stay out of trouble?”
Dean doesn’t answer. Instead, he asks about the hunt, where their dad is going and what he’s after this time, as if he asks enough questions and shows enough interest, John will allow him to come along too.
Sam closes his eyes against the conversation. He’s fifteen and everything in life is sweeter than it was only last year. Dean is all that is on his mind now, and with the fresh air filling Sam’s senses to an intoxicating level, Sam decides that this summer will be about the two of them. Just the two of them. No more.
When Sam unconsciously starts to smile to himself, Dean comments from the front seat, “Boy, Sammy, you sure look happy back there. Got something good on your mind?”
Sam opens his eyes slowly, just enough to see Dean’s face peeking around his seat. “Yeah, I do,” Sam says with a smirk. He wonders if Dean has any idea of what Sam is planning to do with their time away from Dad.
Two
John introduces them to Jacob who wears faded overalls and has big, chapped hands stained with soil. Dad told them that Jacob used to be a hunter until he married a plantation owner’s daughter and had four children. Together with his wife, Jacob runs the plantation of her father where local students come to work for the extra summer help. Sam and Dean, John says, will be joining these kids, picking the fruit and doing any chores that Jacob asks of them.
After John leaves with promises of good behavior from the boys, Jacob shows them to one of the guesthouses on the edge of the property behind the orchard. The apples are still green on the branches, hard and bitter in their immaturity.
“John said you two should stay in the main house with me,” Jacob says as he opens the door on the little cabin to allow Sam and Dean inside. “Said you boys would keep out of trouble that way. But, the way I’m lookin’ at it is that you’re both old enough to stay out here on your own. Don’t need me or the missus leaning over your shoulder.”
Once they’re settled, Jacob tells them that supper will be ready in about an hour and that they can unload their things so they can get comfortable. When he walks outside again, he leaves the door open to allow the dust in the corners of the room to be lifted up and out of the building.
“You really think Dad will be gone two months?” Sam asks as he unloads his clothes and folds them neatly in his dresser. The organization helps his spinning mind relax. Not to focus on the fact that it will be just Dean and him for longer than a week.
“No. Longer,” Dean answers curtly, sinking onto the bed in defeat. “It’s always longer than he says.”
Sam, ignoring his clothes, sits down on the mattress next to Dean, and he watches his older brother lie on his back. “Maybe this won’t be so bad,” Sam tries. “You never know. It could be…okay.”
Dean looks up to Sam’s earnest face. For a long moment, Dean doesn’t say anything, and then he rises to his feet. He ruffles Sam’s hair as he walks by with a swish of his blue jeans. “I’m going to go check out the place. Wanna come? We still got time before dinner.”
From Dean’s trivial touch, Sam’s heart is racing again, and he has to stop his voice from cracking when says, “Sure, I guess.” In the doorway, Dean is framed by the fat evening sun, and his smile is brilliant, brighter than Sam thought possible.
Three
They rise not long after sunrise every morning, and they stumble from their cabin with sleep still in their eyes. Alongside the other students and the year round help, they pick the fruit so many times that their fingers are stained with the juices of their labor. Meals are always big and filling where they eat with all the workers, Jacob, and his family, at a big table in the main house where someone always has a story to tell with a joke to follow.
Muscles that Sam was not even aware of having ache when he slips into bed at night, but it is a comforting pain that he finds himself enjoying. He pops all his blisters during that first week and lets them scab over to darker calluses. His skin burns with sexuality, tingles and zips, and some days, he feels almost drunk with the feeling.
He wonders if he has ever been so alive as he is this summer.
Four
Sam knows exactly what he wants, but a part of him is still too afraid to step forward and go to Dean. Often while he is working, he allows his mind to drift away, and he wonders if maybe he’s only fooling himself. Maybe he doesn’t really want Dean after all. Maybe it’s just his crazed teenage hormones speaking instead.
But then he looks over his shoulder and sees Dean laughing with one of the girls who is spending the summer at the plantation. She giggles with a petite hand over her mouth as Dean glances from her face to her chest. When she reaches up and plays with Dean’s amulet around his neck, Sam swears violently, and he knows for certain that he’s not being fooled by any stupid hormones.
This is what he wants. Dean is what he wants.
So he storms past Dean and immaturely throws berries at his brother’s head. “Hey, Sammy…?” Dean says, reaching up to his face where splattered berries ooze down his skin.
Sam doesn’t respond. Instead of facing his problem, he turns and runs while Dean calls out his name in confusion. Sam’s heart is pounding, and his head in whirling with admissions he’ll never say. I want to do these things to you that I’ve seen only in the movies. But, you’ve got to promise me that if you don’t want it, then nothing’s going to change between us. And if you can’t promise that, then I won’t try.
Five
At night with the room dark, Sam jerks off, knowing that Dean is right next to him and hoping that Dean can hear his breathy little sighs. Sam snaps his hips beneath the sheets with his hand dancing over his cock. He thrusts upward into his hot fist, groaning, and when he’s close to coming, he twists his head and looks over at Dean. Expecting to see his older brother turned away, Sam’s orgasm breaks through him when he realizes that Dean has been watching him the entire time.
As he returns to earth, and he lies still to catch his breath, he waits. Waits simply for Dean to acknowledge him and what is happening between them. When the sensations are beginning to subside at last and his come is cooling on his belly, Dean rolls out of his bed.
Violently, Dean flings his blankets back in a fierce snap, and his feet slap the floor in the dark. “Fuck, Sam,” Dean growls. He leaves the cabin, and the door slams angrily behind him.
Six
While they are working side by side, Dean takes off his shirt and wraps it around his waist. Sam’s eyes widen, and he wonders if this is Dean’s way of getting back at him for that one night.
“What are you doing?” Sam asks after he’s cleared his throat. He tries not to stare at Dean’s tanned chest and his flexed arms, at the slicked nape of his neck where beads of sweat gather and slide together.
“It’s too damned hot,” Dean mutters, reaching up to grab a handful of berries. “Going to die of heat stroke if I don’t do something.” He pauses to sigh and stretch his arms above his head to crack his back. Beneath his skin, the muscles dance and twitch, and Sam hopes his gaping isn’t obvious. “Why? Does it bother you?”
“No,” Sam lies, turning his attention away and trying to pretend that the cluster of fruit is far more appealing than seeing his brother’s naked torso. “No, just wondering if it’s smart with all these girls wanting to jump you.”
Dean snickers. “I’m sure I can handle myself around girls, Sammy,” he says as he moves onto the next bush.
Inwardly, Sam groans to himself. He should have known that Dean would play hard to get. Should have known that Dean wouldn’t play fair. Sam curses. Dirty bastard.
Seven
It’s a push and a pull. One step closer, then two steps back. Never quite reaching, never quite having, never quite being together as Sam is so firmly convinced that they should be. If he wants something this much, it can’t be wrong. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
Eight
Sam sits on his bed, listening to the splashing water fill the bathtub behind the closed bathroom door. It’s been an exhausting day, and his muscles cry with every movement. After a moment of silence inside his own head, he walks to the bathroom, shedding his clothing and dropping it in piles as he reaches the door. He’s too damn tired to care about such things as “repercussions” right now. Naked, he doesn’t bother to knock, and he twists the handle with shaking fingers. He enters with his heart in his throat.
Startled, Dean looks up with a splash. Water sloshes over the edge of the claw foot tub as he reaches for a towel. “Sam?” he says, voice cracking.
Instead of answering, Sam moves closer to the bathtub. Dean stops searching for a towel, and he pulls his legs up to his chest as best he can. His eyes are focused on Sam’s face and nothing more.
Carefully, so he doesn’t slip, Sam climbs into the tub. It’s barely big enough to hold the both of them, and his feet bounce against Dean’s under the water. Their skin is slippery smooth over each other.
“Sam…Sam, what are you doing?” Dean asks.
Sam swallows back his nervousness and his fear. If he doesn’t try, he’ll never know, and he has to know.
“Doing something about this,” Sam replies. He leans forward, out of the water and over Dean. Taking Dean’s face between his hands like he’s seen Dean do to girls before, Sam kisses his older brother. It’s light and dry, barely more than a whisper of passing lips, but when Sam pulls away, his head is spinning nonetheless.
There is a long moment of silence until finally Dean speaks. “God. It’s about time.” He pulls Sam in again like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.
Nine
They kiss beneath the apples trees while the other workers are away on lunch break. Dean worries they’ll be spotted. Sam assures that no one will see them out here. Above their heads, the apples are fat and red, shining under the hot noon sun.
Dean presses Sam against the tree and runs his fingers underneath the hem of Sam’s shirt. “Please, Dean,” Sam whispers, mouthing wet circles along Dean’s rough jawline and pushing his hips forward against his brother. Sam knows what he wants is risky, but he’s willing to take the chance just to find that sweet release.
Dean shakes his head. Kisses are innocent, but for what Sam asks is not. Yet, Sam continues to thrust weakly against Dean’s leg with pleas on his tongue until finally Dean gives in. He undoes Sam’s pants right there and wraps his fingers around Sam’s cock. With the birds singing overhead, Sam comes in a series of frantic huffs, but Dean is the one who closes his eyes.
Ten
When it rains through the morning and into the afternoon, Jacob tells them to take the day off. Everything’s too wet to do any real work. With whoops and cheers, the other kids go into town for a movie and ice cream. Sam and Dean lock the door on their cabin and stay behind.
“How long have you wanted this?” Sam asks as he lies naked on top his older brother. Dean, shirtless with his pants unzipped, is running his hand down the warm skin of Sam’s back.
Dean chuckles, only a flash of teeth. “Long enough to make it wrong.” He glances away for a moment, then returns to meet Sam’s eyes. Outside, the rain is pounding steadily against the window, and the sky is thick gray. “Not that this isn’t wrong now…”
“No,” Sam says, stopping him. He speaks between kisses to Dean’s forehead and cheeks, to his collarbone and bare chest. “No, this is us. This is right.” Resting his cheek against the soft skin by Dean’s hip, he sighs softly. “This is exactly the way it’s supposed to be.”
When Dean doesn’t answer him, Sam lifts his head to look up. Dean is staring at him peculiarly, and in a part of him older than the rest, Sam wonders if this is the first time anyone has ever loved Dean like he does.
“You know we can’t tell anybody about this,” Dean says to break the silence, reaching out and caressing Sam’s face with the backs of his fingers.
“I know. It’s just us.”
“Just us,” Dean repeats. When Sam moves up again and kisses him on the lips, opening his mouth fully to taste his brother, Dean wraps his arms around Sam. He pulls Sam in tightly, afraid to let him go.
Eleven
They’ve finished dinner and are exiting Jacob’s house when two of the students pull them aside. The students are a little older than Dean—college age with a few extra inches—and they’ve always treated Sam decently, but right now, a sense of warning flares up inside him.
“So you two are brothers?” one of them asks.
“Yeah,” Sam replies, glancing from Dean’s stoic face to the smirk on the college kids’.
“Hm,” the guy murmurs sarcastically. “Now, I don’t know a lot about this whole ‘country’ thing, but I think there’re just some things that brothers don’t do together.”
“Look, if you’ve got something to say,” Dean snaps, “spit it out.”
The college boys glance over at one another. “We’ve seen you two.” They pause, searching for the brothers’ reactions but finding none. “You two have been making out like a bunch of high school kids.” They stare at Dean. “What? You can’t get any girls your own age, so you have to fuck your baby brother? Dude, that’s just—”
Sam’s jab to the nose cuts him off, causing the other college boy to jump in with a punch to Sam’s jaw. Suddenly, Dean is there in a flash. He’s quick and violent, and by the time Sam looks up, both of the students are holding bloody noses and cursing under their breath.
“Mind your own goddamn business next time,” Dean growls after he kicks one of them to the ground. “And know who you’re messing with before you try to fuck with somebody.”
As the college students hiss something about “sick family fag,” Dean wraps his arm around Sam. “C’mon, Sammy,” he whispers, brushing Sam’s bangs away from his face, “let’s get out of here.” Sam sighs, and he leans into Dean and his comfort.
Twelve
They’ve been together for hours, starting with how they slid over one another in the warm bathwater and now beneath the blankets on the bed, they lie with their cocks pressed against each other. Sam keeps pushing harder down into Dean, wanting more than he can have right now. “Dean,” Sam whines, curling his back and burying his face into the pillows gathered beside them. His skin prickles, and he doesn’t think he can come once more tonight, but then Dean thrusts up into him, and the heat sparks through Sam again.
Then, ripping through his mind, the door is being slammed open, their precious lock for the first time forgotten, and a voice Sam had tried to forget is thundering through the room. Sam doesn’t have enough time to react, and John is by the bed in too few strides. He grabs Sam by the arm and yanks him away from Dean. Sam trips over his own legs, and he tumbles to the floor where he frantically searches for something to cover himself, but his clothes are on the other side of his father.
Dean’s eyes are wild and panicked, and apologies are already spilling from his lips as he gathers the blankets over his naked flesh. But the cloth is no barrier against John Winchester’s anger, for his sheer disgust and shock. Dean receives the brunt of their father’s storm. Ignoring Dean’s jabbering pleas, John accuses him of doing this to his brother, of tricking his brother into this, of participating in this. This. Like it’s something dirty and evil that they need to destroy.
Sam, furious and ashamed, retaliates. His screams stop his father and cause Dean to stare. This isn’t Dean’s fault. This is what Sam wanted. He was the one that forced Dean into it, and Dean tried to stop him the whole time. “You don’t understand!” Sam yells, and before John can respond, Sam whips away and disappears outside.
He wears nothing but his tears, hot and fast, that fall madly down his cheeks as he runs into the darkness, not knowing where else to go.
Thirteen
John finds Sam hunkering beneath one of the apple trees, and he silently tosses Sam a set of clothes. “Get dressed,” John says and turns his back as Sam rises to his feet. His throat burns from yelling, there are scratches on his skin, and his heart is wildly pounding. Everything hurts.
“C’mon,” John says, taking Sam, fully dressed, by the shoulder and leading him away from the cabins.
“Where’s Dean?” Sam asks as he tries to twist away, but his father only clenches his hand tighter.
“We’re going to get out of here for a bit. Just you and me.”
“Where’s Dean?” Sam spits.
At this, John turns Sam around, takes both of his shoulders in his hands and stares down at his youngest son. “You’re not going to see Dean for a long time. I don’t want to hear any more about this. I don’t know what the fuck got in your head, but I’m putting an end to it now.”
In the car, Sam chooses to sit in the back, and he stares out the window with his arms crossed. “Where are we going?” he mutters after they have been on the road for a few hours.
John clears his throat, glances back at Sam through the rearview mirror, and says, “Away.”
Fourteen
When Sam sees his brother again, he has lost track of the time they have spent apart. Dean walks with shoulders slouched in, and he refuses to meet Sam’s eyes when they talk. He looks different, aged and worn, and Sam wants to throw his arms around him, bury his face in Dean’s shirt and whisper everything he has been holding back.
Dad is always watching them, and he never leaves his sons alone for more than a few minutes at a time. Never enough time for anything except questions.
Sam asks, “That night? What happened after I left?”
Dean shrugs absently. “Nothing much…” He looks away, to the bathroom door where Dad’s shower is running loudly. “I…” He sighs heavily. “We shouldn’t have done it, Sammy.”
“But, Dean—” Sam reaches for Dean’s hand, and he loops his fingers through the spaces in Dean’s own. For a moment, Dean looks up, and Sam thinks that yes, Dean hasn’t forgotten them after all.
But after a moment, Dean pulls his hand away, shaking his head, and says, “It was a mistake, okay? We’re not going to do it again.”
Sam recoils like he’s been slapped.
Months upon months later, when Sam leaves for college without explanation, Dean never shows any surprise in the announcement. He never asks why, and Sam figures that Dean has known this was coming the moment their father tore them away from each other.
Fifteen
It’s been ages since that summer and years since Dad’s death. Through the miles together, through the hushed roads and darkened rooms, they find each other again. It’s like that summer all over again when one step forward is just two steps back. When Sam is always questioning and Dean is always hesitant, but then Sam kisses him and Dean kisses back, and just like that, they never left anything behind.
They go to Jacob’s on an impulse and eat dinner with his family. Jacob, if he knew what happened on his farm between the boys, displays no knowledge, and he welcomes them as warmly as he did when they were younger. He asks if they want to stay in their old guesthouse for the night. They accept without hesitation.
Too old now to fit in the bathtub together, Sam takes Dean by the hand and leads him to the apple orchard. The blossoms on the trees are thin and white, closed together beneath the moon, and Sam presses his forehead against Dean’s, bends his head to touch nose to nose. Their breath rolls into the cool spring air in misty little clouds. “I think,” Sam whispers, “this is the closest I’ve ever felt to home.”
Dean pulls away and looks up, eyebrows moving together in confusion. “Why’s that?” he asks. “It was only a few months.”
“Because I found…” Sam shakes his head, smiling privately at the words that are rising in his head and wanting to be spoken.
“Because you found what?” Dean asks curiously.
“You. I found you, and whenever I think about us, I think of here, and that’s home. You’re home.”
Dean only smiles, eyes downcast, bashful almost. Then Sam, as he did that first summer, takes Dean’s face in his hands, and he kisses his brother sweet and slow under the night sky.
End
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-10 06:51 pm (UTC)Ooooooooh baby. OH.
♥
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Date: 2007-05-11 06:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-10 07:20 pm (UTC)Dean is staring at him peculiarly, and in a part of him older than the rest, Sam wonders if this is the first time anyone has ever loved Dean like he does.
Love that line. So freaking gorgeous.
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Date: 2007-05-11 06:24 pm (UTC)I love that line too. I think it's one of my favorites, and I'm so glad it worked for you.
Thank you very much! :)
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Date: 2007-05-10 07:49 pm (UTC)Expecting to see his older brother turned away, Sam’s orgasm breaks through him when he realizes that Dean has been watching him the entire time.
So wrong and so hot. I feel for Dean there...
Their skin is slippery smooth over each other.
Love that sensual detail.
“God. It’s about time.” He pulls Sam in again like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.
Wonderful turning point-- there were hints of that mutuality even in section one, and finally it collides in this part here.
With the birds singing overhead, Sam comes in a series of frantic huffs, but Dean is the one who closes his eyes.
There's such an honest feeling of innocence in this section, even with the sex, because it's all about the love.
in a part of him older than the rest, Sam wonders if this is the first time anyone has ever loved Dean like he does.
Just perfect, because No-- and no-one else ever will. *sniffle*
The shock of John coming in on them-- and his anger-- was very real. And his decision to split the boys up (totally what any parent would do) is so devastating, along with the description of how it broke something between the boys for awhile.
But the end... the reconciliation... has that sweet innocence and completion all over again.
This one needs a title and to be posted out to the world, I absolutely assure you. ♥
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Date: 2007-05-11 06:22 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for quoting your favorite lines. I'm a sucker for that in feedback, I'll admit. I'm so glad that you liked the ending. That was really my favorite part out of it all, so I'm really happy that it worked with the feeling of completion. :)
As for posting for everybody...? *bites lip* I'm still not sure about that. I'll have to think about it, I suppose. :)
Thank you very much for your kind feedback!
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Date: 2007-05-11 06:43 pm (UTC)Are you joking? Fix a few typos and get a title (heck, I'll suggest some for you in email), and I'm ready to REC this story. Not. Kidding. ♥
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Date: 2007-05-13 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-11 03:14 am (UTC)Still, you made it okay at the end. I love Daddy Winchester, but I think his reaction was probably what any father would have.
Uh, now please write what happened that night after Sam ran out. You know you know...
Tracy
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Date: 2007-05-11 06:19 pm (UTC)Erm. Let's pretend that the brain has stopped functioning and I don't know which ones...which would that be? :/ (Just because I'm curious. :) )
John's reaction is hard to gauge. I've seen some people take it really far and some people not at all because he "already suspected." Plus, he's just a tricky character for me to write, period. So, I'm glad you found his reaction real. :)
As for the night Sam left? Well...we'll see. ;)
Thank you for your feedback, sweetie. :)
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Date: 2007-05-19 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 02:50 pm (UTC)