Fic - Sam/Dean - Sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to...
Title: Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to… 
Author: benitle
Rating: PG-13, I think
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Warnings: Wincest towards the end
Feedback: Yes, please!
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 3,137
Disclaimer: This story is complete fiction. It never happened. I don’t own the characters.
Summary: Shows different events from Sam being about 1 to 22 that all end in Dean saying, “Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…” [How much do I suck at writing summaries?]
Note: This is unbeta’d. If you stumble across mistakes and feel like correcting me, then go ahead, I’d be grateful. Apart from that? Enjoy. ^_^
When Sam is about one year old, Dean is confronted with a little, stinky brother for the first time. Not that Sam wouldn’t have made use of his diapers before, after all, he’s just a baby, but in the past there has always been Dad to take care of it.
Right now? There is no Dad in sight and Dean doesn’t know who else he could call. Recently, Dad left them alone during the day and only came back in the evening or he’d be with them during the day and leave them alone at night. Each time he places a hand on Dean’s shoulder and tells him to look after Sammy, that he is the big brother and that he is responsible for him. Dean only nods - he still doesn’t feel like speaking with anyone, not since he saw his home burn less than six months ago, taking away his Mommy - and Dad pats his head and says, “That’s my boy.” There’s sadness in Dad’s eyes because Dean hasn’t said a word ever since the incident and because all Sammy does is cry, but he has investigations to make when no one else seems to make them.
So now, Dean is once more confronted with a crying Sammy on his own. It’s no big deal though, he’s seen Dad change the diapers and what Dad can do, Dean can too. He grabs his little brother, heaving him out of the little crib to carry him towards the bathroom.
It takes him some time to figure out what exactly he has to do and according to Sam’s loud and desperate cries, the little brother doesn’t like the treatment too much. Dean’s still too small to reach up for the changing table, that’s why he’s laying Sam down on the mat on the bathroom floor.
“It’s ok, Sammy,” he eventually says, while fighting with the little Winchester’s diaper, desperately trying to open it. But Sam only continues his tirade of loud cries as clear tears roll down his cheeks.
Finally Dean manages to get rid of the stinking diaper, allows himself to “ew” a moment as soon as he can smell the reason again why he needed to change them in the first place. Quickly, he discards them in the little bucket standing next to the sink, before he grabs all the coloured bottles that he saw Dad use. He shakes them, as if this helped him figure out which one to use first.
To be honest? Dean has no clue. Maybe this is not as easy as he thought it would be. Dean decides to first use the blue bottle, because blue is his favourite colour. He holds up Sam’s legs - like he saw Dad do it - and turns the bottle until there’s white powder almost everywhere. Sam cries even more at the sudden assault and Dean can’t help but chuckle.
“Sorry, Sammy.”
Next is the red bottle and there is some oily liquid in it. Dean fears for a moment that he totally messed up now as Sam simply continues yelling. It certainly looked different when Dad did it. He scratches the back of his head, thinking for a split second what to do next. He certainly isn’t to blame, after all he just turned five and it’s not very uncommon that five year olds don’t know how to change their baby brother’s diapers.
“Look, Sammy. You really gotta quit crying now. It’s ok,” Dean tries to soothe, but somehow it wouldn’t work. As he looks around the bathroom, searching for something - someone - to deal with the mess he made - Sam’s eyes are already bloodshot from the hard cries - Dean’s eyes find a little plastic bathtub that Dad always uses to bathe Sammy. Maybe that’s what Sam wants? A bath. After all, everyone loves baths.
With the help of the little plastic stool that Dad keeps in the bathroom, it’s original purpose for Dean to reach up to the sink when he needs to brush his teeth or wash his hands, Dean manages to grab the little plastic tub and put it up into the sink to fill some clear water in. Carefully, he takes it down, placing it next to Sam on the bathroom floor. While doing so he almost drops it onto Sam, but thank God, this does not happen.
Next, Dean picks up his little brother again and slowly dips him into the water. To his surprise, Sam stops crying and after a few moments he laughs happily, smacking his little, chubby hand onto the water, making it splash, all over Dean too. Dean sits him down and starts washing his little brother like he saw Dad do it. This is a lot better and finally Sam stopped making all those unpleasant noises.
As he reaches for another bottle that he knows Dad always, he lets go of his little brother - only one second - but it’s enough for Sam to slip and slide underwater. Dean’s quick to react and grabs Sam to pull him on the surface again, yet Sammy starts crying again.
Somehow Dean can’t help but laugh as he says, “I’m sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about eight years old, it’s once more Dean’s turn to pick him up from school. Actually, this is Dad’s job, since Dean’s school is on the other side of town, but Dad’s left for a hunting trip earlier this afternoon, leaving Dean only a note to read when he comes home from school.
“Pick up Sammy from his afternoon lessons,” it says and that’s why Dean is currently on the bus towards his little brother’s school, already twenty minutes late.
He always wondered why Dad wouldn’t want the boys to attend the same school, it would be so much easier and save everyone a lot of time. (Dad once stated that it was too dangerous and if something came to get them, it was securer if they didn’t go to the same school.) And he also wondered why he always insisted on Sam being picked up and not let him ride the bus home on his own. Dean knows that Sam thinks the same and whereas Dean simply accepted what his father told them, he heard Sam fight over it with Dad again and again.
“I’m old enough, Dad!” - “I say you aren’t and that’s why someone’s coming to fetch you.” - “But Dad!” - “Do as you are told!”
A Winchester conversation.
So now he’s on the bus and as soon as he gets off, he can see Sam sitting on the stairs in front of the school’s main entrance. His little backpack at his feet, next to the huge amount of books Sam is always carrying, elbows resting on his knees, looking by all means, more that just slightly annoyed.
As he crosses the street, Dean feels sorry for his little brother, knowing that this isn’t the first time this week that Sam’s the last one who’s picked up and who has to wait and unfortunately, the week just started. But what can he do? He made it as fast as he could.
“Hey Sammy!” he shouts before he waves at the younger Winchester. “Ready to go, kiddo?”
Sam doesn’t say anything, but only grabs his backpack and books before he walks towards the bus stop, not even waiting for Dean to follow him. There’s this grumpy expression on his face and even though he knows this isn’t Dean’s fault, he can’t help but be angry.
“I came as quick as I could, Sam, so stop pouting,” Dean says, playfully smacking his little brother’s biceps.
But Sam doesn’t soften, simply keeps walking until he reaches the bus stop where their bus back home should pass by any minute. Eventually, when they arrived, Sam has to look at him and all he can see in Dean’s face is that caring smile that Sam loves so much.
“Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about thirteen years old, John gives them once more their routine afternoon training. Sam never enjoyed it, but he learnt that sometimes - only sometimes - it’s better not to discuss this topic with Dad, because it’ll only make him angry and will end in extra lessons.
Like today.
That’s why Sam has to bite his lips when John calls them, hold himself back not to say anything wrong. He’ll just quickly get over it and try to enjoy the rest of the day as best as he can.
Today it’s another day of self defence training day. That means no weapons, only bare hands, feet and whatever else comes naturally with a body that can be used for fighting. Sam will have to fight against Dean again and he hates it.
When he was younger, he once complained that Dean is four years older and that, of course, he’s also bigger and stronger. Dad only commented that in dangerous situations Sam won’t be able to tell the demon or whatever that he doesn’t want to fight because it’s bigger and more powerful. Dean only snickered, but once he had to train with Dad himself later, he could understand perfectly fine why Sam didn’t like fighting against his older brother.
So now, it’s once more practising different moves from various kinds of martial arts, kung fu, taekwondo, kickboxing, judo and the likes. Currently, Sam finds himself underneath Dean, held in a tight grip, choking him slightly. Dad stands next to them, shouting at Sam that he needs to think about what he already learnt and which moves will get him rid of Dean best now.
Sam tries, but it’s not so easy to think when your brother is lying on top of you in such an awkward position. Dean must feel what this provokes within Sam and hopefully, he’ll just remember that he was in the middle of puberty once too. And the fact that Sam recently grew so much doesn’t help either. He might have gained quite a few inches, but still he doesn’t really know yet how to control this extra height.
The youngest of the three Winchester men is close to freaking out as Dad keeps yelling at him, the usual drill tone in his voice, the one that sometimes scares Sam. Eventually, Dean pretends not to pay 100 percent attention for a split second, which finally gives Sam the chance to kick his older brother off of him. Sam’s relieved and grateful, making a mental note to thank Dean later. But when John says “Was about time, Sammy,” with this disregarding undertone, he can feel a deep pain in his guts.
He already hoped they’d be done for today but it seems as if Dad still hadn’t seen enough. Next, the boys are supposed to use their fists only, some kind of boxing training. Sam swears that he didn’t watch out only for a tiny moment as Dean’s fist connects with his jaw, probably harder then intended. Sam finds himself flying backwards, roughly landing straight on his butt with a soft thud. His hand immediately finds the spot where Dean just hit him as he tries to suppress the tears that are about to roll over his cheeks any minute. Dean certainly hit him well.
Quickly, the older brother runs over, holding his hand out for Sam to pick him up. There’s concern in his eyes that tells Sam not to cry in front of Dad now. Once he pulled Sam up, Dean lays one of his hands on Sam’s jaw.
“Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about sixteen years old, he brings a girl home for the first (and also last) time. She’s not his first girlfriend, but the first that he invited over. To be honest though, he probably wouldn’t have done so if he weren’t sure that Dean and Dad wouldn’t be home for a few days. Sam never felt comfortable bringing home a girl and he can’t really remember if any of the girls he dated in the past ever met his family. Not that it mattered now.
He quickly gives her the tour of their latest home and when she asks where his family is, Sam only shrugs and says with a shy smile that they won’t be there because they’re away on a work trip.
She grins broadly at Sam and when she says that she would like to see Sam’s room again, he grins right back before he grabs her by the hand, leading her upstairs.
Sam’s glad that he’s prepared for whatever’s going to happen now, thanks to Dean. If there is one thing you can always count on, then it is that Dean always has enough stuff in stock that one needs when getting laid. Not that secretly searching through Dean’s drawers in his brother’s room was a nice thing to do, but Sam was simply too embarrassed to ask, knowing just how much Dean would tease him about it.
And indeed, Sam did find everything he thought he’d need. Condoms, lube and that should do for the beginning. He remembers that he was pretty amazed at some of the utilities that Dean kept hidden, with cuffs and a collar certainly still being the rather normal objects.
So now, he finds himself in his room with his girlfriend, lust in their eyes. Slowly, Sam bends over to tenderly press his lips to hers. She immediately responds to the kiss, stroking Sam’s tongue with her own. Neither wants to lose more time as they quickly start undressing each other. By they time they discarded all clothes but their underwear, she’s writhing on top of Sam, rubbing her body against his in that sinful way that makes his groin react like it is supposed to in such situations.
Sam’s in a state of pure, honest bliss, thus, he releases a desperate moan. That is exactly the moment when the door opens with a shrill shriek. The sight he’s offered next is certainly the least thing he wanted to see, as Dean stands in the door - by all means exhausted, covered in blood and sweat, maybe even injured.
“Sammy, I’m ho-“
Dean doesn’t finish the sentence as he sees what he little brother had been up to and how he’s blushing furiously now.
“Dean!” Sam gasps and the girl only screams, trying to cover as much of her skin with her hands and arms as possible. Quickly, Dean backs up, leaving the room, heading for his own, mumbling words Sam doesn’t catch. In the meantime, the girl gets up to collect her clothes and to immediately stomp out of the room. As she leaves, she tells Sam that she doesn’t want to see him again. Ever.
Once he heard the door bang downstairs, Sam stands up too, searching for his jeans. Slowly, he walks over to Dean’s room and knocks against the door. His brother tells him to enter and looks at him with pity in his eyes and a hint of a teasing smirk.
“You’re hurt badly?” Sam asks, pointing at Dean’s arm that his brother currently is examining.
“Nah, don’t think so.” Dean doesn’t look up as he says almost inaudibly, “Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about 22, one little gesture changes the relationship with his brother forever.
“Dean!”
No reaction.
“Dean!”
Sam shouts as he roughly shakes his brother’s shoulders. He’s sitting on top of Dean’s motionless body, his thighs left and right of the older Winchester’s torso, while he’s listening carefully for breath or any other kind of reaction.
God, yes, he’s still breathing.
Softly, he presses his fingers to Dean’s throat just to sigh in relief the next moment.
Yes, there is also still a pulse.
“Dean,” he whimpers, scared for his brother, more than he ever has been before. With the sleeve of his hoodie, he wipes across Dean’s face, soaking up some of the blood that’s slowly dripping out of his wounds. They don’t look too bad, but still this doesn’t make the fact better that Dean isn’t moving in any way.
Sam knows it has been a bad idea to split up, this poltergeist has been a nasty one and they better had stayed together, but Dean insisted that they could work more effectively if they split up. Of course, Sam hadn’t felt comfortable with this at all, yet in the end he gave in, since all he wanted to was finish the job quickly and get back to the motel to get some sleep, since he hadn’t in days. Big mistake.
“Dean,” he repeats before he slowly bends down, bringing his ear to his brother’s full lips once more. Then, he hears a little gulp, a sound being emitted, that by all means took a lot of efforts to make. Sam turns his head slightly to look at the other man and check whether there are any movements yet.
“Hey,” Sam smiles as he sees Dean open his eyes only slightly until they seem like narrow slits. His grin soon reaches Cheshire proportions when Dean’s eyes open a tad further.
Sam feels all the tension and fear suddenly washed away and all that remains is pure, honest relief.
“Are you ok, Dean? Are you in pain? I mean, are you alright…God, Dean.”
Sam keeps rambling and only when he sees that apparently Dean wants to say something, his voice too weak though to make it speak up, he finally shuts his mouth. Quickly, Sam bends down again until his lips almost touch Dean’s.
Just in the moment when he’s about to turn his head, so that his ear is right above Dean’s mouth, his brother cranes his neck a little. Their lips meet and it takes Sam some time to realise that Dean is pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a bashful peck, shy and careful.
Sam is totally paralysed and doesn’t know how to react. He certainly didn’t expect this.
After a time that seems endless, Dean breaks the kiss, separating their lips, but definitely leaving his sweet taste on Sam. Slowly, he lays his head back on the ground. He closes his eyes for another second and Sam is nearly freaking out again, not knowing what’s happening right in front of him.
But then, Dean opens his eyes again and Sam can see a rosy blush on his brother’s face. It makes Dean look boyish and vulnerable. So totally un-Dean.
Eventually, Dean finds his words again and enough strength to whisper.
“Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
But this time, Sam won’t let him finish the sentence as be bends down again to claim Dean’s lips in a fierce kiss. Once they both have to gasp for air, the younger brother only grins, “Fuck, but I do.”
Author: benitle
Rating: PG-13, I think
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Warnings: Wincest towards the end
Feedback: Yes, please!
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 3,137
Disclaimer: This story is complete fiction. It never happened. I don’t own the characters.
Summary: Shows different events from Sam being about 1 to 22 that all end in Dean saying, “Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…” [How much do I suck at writing summaries?]
Note: This is unbeta’d. If you stumble across mistakes and feel like correcting me, then go ahead, I’d be grateful. Apart from that? Enjoy. ^_^
When Sam is about one year old, Dean is confronted with a little, stinky brother for the first time. Not that Sam wouldn’t have made use of his diapers before, after all, he’s just a baby, but in the past there has always been Dad to take care of it.
Right now? There is no Dad in sight and Dean doesn’t know who else he could call. Recently, Dad left them alone during the day and only came back in the evening or he’d be with them during the day and leave them alone at night. Each time he places a hand on Dean’s shoulder and tells him to look after Sammy, that he is the big brother and that he is responsible for him. Dean only nods - he still doesn’t feel like speaking with anyone, not since he saw his home burn less than six months ago, taking away his Mommy - and Dad pats his head and says, “That’s my boy.” There’s sadness in Dad’s eyes because Dean hasn’t said a word ever since the incident and because all Sammy does is cry, but he has investigations to make when no one else seems to make them.
So now, Dean is once more confronted with a crying Sammy on his own. It’s no big deal though, he’s seen Dad change the diapers and what Dad can do, Dean can too. He grabs his little brother, heaving him out of the little crib to carry him towards the bathroom.
It takes him some time to figure out what exactly he has to do and according to Sam’s loud and desperate cries, the little brother doesn’t like the treatment too much. Dean’s still too small to reach up for the changing table, that’s why he’s laying Sam down on the mat on the bathroom floor.
“It’s ok, Sammy,” he eventually says, while fighting with the little Winchester’s diaper, desperately trying to open it. But Sam only continues his tirade of loud cries as clear tears roll down his cheeks.
Finally Dean manages to get rid of the stinking diaper, allows himself to “ew” a moment as soon as he can smell the reason again why he needed to change them in the first place. Quickly, he discards them in the little bucket standing next to the sink, before he grabs all the coloured bottles that he saw Dad use. He shakes them, as if this helped him figure out which one to use first.
To be honest? Dean has no clue. Maybe this is not as easy as he thought it would be. Dean decides to first use the blue bottle, because blue is his favourite colour. He holds up Sam’s legs - like he saw Dad do it - and turns the bottle until there’s white powder almost everywhere. Sam cries even more at the sudden assault and Dean can’t help but chuckle.
“Sorry, Sammy.”
Next is the red bottle and there is some oily liquid in it. Dean fears for a moment that he totally messed up now as Sam simply continues yelling. It certainly looked different when Dad did it. He scratches the back of his head, thinking for a split second what to do next. He certainly isn’t to blame, after all he just turned five and it’s not very uncommon that five year olds don’t know how to change their baby brother’s diapers.
“Look, Sammy. You really gotta quit crying now. It’s ok,” Dean tries to soothe, but somehow it wouldn’t work. As he looks around the bathroom, searching for something - someone - to deal with the mess he made - Sam’s eyes are already bloodshot from the hard cries - Dean’s eyes find a little plastic bathtub that Dad always uses to bathe Sammy. Maybe that’s what Sam wants? A bath. After all, everyone loves baths.
With the help of the little plastic stool that Dad keeps in the bathroom, it’s original purpose for Dean to reach up to the sink when he needs to brush his teeth or wash his hands, Dean manages to grab the little plastic tub and put it up into the sink to fill some clear water in. Carefully, he takes it down, placing it next to Sam on the bathroom floor. While doing so he almost drops it onto Sam, but thank God, this does not happen.
Next, Dean picks up his little brother again and slowly dips him into the water. To his surprise, Sam stops crying and after a few moments he laughs happily, smacking his little, chubby hand onto the water, making it splash, all over Dean too. Dean sits him down and starts washing his little brother like he saw Dad do it. This is a lot better and finally Sam stopped making all those unpleasant noises.
As he reaches for another bottle that he knows Dad always, he lets go of his little brother - only one second - but it’s enough for Sam to slip and slide underwater. Dean’s quick to react and grabs Sam to pull him on the surface again, yet Sammy starts crying again.
Somehow Dean can’t help but laugh as he says, “I’m sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about eight years old, it’s once more Dean’s turn to pick him up from school. Actually, this is Dad’s job, since Dean’s school is on the other side of town, but Dad’s left for a hunting trip earlier this afternoon, leaving Dean only a note to read when he comes home from school.
“Pick up Sammy from his afternoon lessons,” it says and that’s why Dean is currently on the bus towards his little brother’s school, already twenty minutes late.
He always wondered why Dad wouldn’t want the boys to attend the same school, it would be so much easier and save everyone a lot of time. (Dad once stated that it was too dangerous and if something came to get them, it was securer if they didn’t go to the same school.) And he also wondered why he always insisted on Sam being picked up and not let him ride the bus home on his own. Dean knows that Sam thinks the same and whereas Dean simply accepted what his father told them, he heard Sam fight over it with Dad again and again.
“I’m old enough, Dad!” - “I say you aren’t and that’s why someone’s coming to fetch you.” - “But Dad!” - “Do as you are told!”
A Winchester conversation.
So now he’s on the bus and as soon as he gets off, he can see Sam sitting on the stairs in front of the school’s main entrance. His little backpack at his feet, next to the huge amount of books Sam is always carrying, elbows resting on his knees, looking by all means, more that just slightly annoyed.
As he crosses the street, Dean feels sorry for his little brother, knowing that this isn’t the first time this week that Sam’s the last one who’s picked up and who has to wait and unfortunately, the week just started. But what can he do? He made it as fast as he could.
“Hey Sammy!” he shouts before he waves at the younger Winchester. “Ready to go, kiddo?”
Sam doesn’t say anything, but only grabs his backpack and books before he walks towards the bus stop, not even waiting for Dean to follow him. There’s this grumpy expression on his face and even though he knows this isn’t Dean’s fault, he can’t help but be angry.
“I came as quick as I could, Sam, so stop pouting,” Dean says, playfully smacking his little brother’s biceps.
But Sam doesn’t soften, simply keeps walking until he reaches the bus stop where their bus back home should pass by any minute. Eventually, when they arrived, Sam has to look at him and all he can see in Dean’s face is that caring smile that Sam loves so much.
“Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about thirteen years old, John gives them once more their routine afternoon training. Sam never enjoyed it, but he learnt that sometimes - only sometimes - it’s better not to discuss this topic with Dad, because it’ll only make him angry and will end in extra lessons.
Like today.
That’s why Sam has to bite his lips when John calls them, hold himself back not to say anything wrong. He’ll just quickly get over it and try to enjoy the rest of the day as best as he can.
Today it’s another day of self defence training day. That means no weapons, only bare hands, feet and whatever else comes naturally with a body that can be used for fighting. Sam will have to fight against Dean again and he hates it.
When he was younger, he once complained that Dean is four years older and that, of course, he’s also bigger and stronger. Dad only commented that in dangerous situations Sam won’t be able to tell the demon or whatever that he doesn’t want to fight because it’s bigger and more powerful. Dean only snickered, but once he had to train with Dad himself later, he could understand perfectly fine why Sam didn’t like fighting against his older brother.
So now, it’s once more practising different moves from various kinds of martial arts, kung fu, taekwondo, kickboxing, judo and the likes. Currently, Sam finds himself underneath Dean, held in a tight grip, choking him slightly. Dad stands next to them, shouting at Sam that he needs to think about what he already learnt and which moves will get him rid of Dean best now.
Sam tries, but it’s not so easy to think when your brother is lying on top of you in such an awkward position. Dean must feel what this provokes within Sam and hopefully, he’ll just remember that he was in the middle of puberty once too. And the fact that Sam recently grew so much doesn’t help either. He might have gained quite a few inches, but still he doesn’t really know yet how to control this extra height.
The youngest of the three Winchester men is close to freaking out as Dad keeps yelling at him, the usual drill tone in his voice, the one that sometimes scares Sam. Eventually, Dean pretends not to pay 100 percent attention for a split second, which finally gives Sam the chance to kick his older brother off of him. Sam’s relieved and grateful, making a mental note to thank Dean later. But when John says “Was about time, Sammy,” with this disregarding undertone, he can feel a deep pain in his guts.
He already hoped they’d be done for today but it seems as if Dad still hadn’t seen enough. Next, the boys are supposed to use their fists only, some kind of boxing training. Sam swears that he didn’t watch out only for a tiny moment as Dean’s fist connects with his jaw, probably harder then intended. Sam finds himself flying backwards, roughly landing straight on his butt with a soft thud. His hand immediately finds the spot where Dean just hit him as he tries to suppress the tears that are about to roll over his cheeks any minute. Dean certainly hit him well.
Quickly, the older brother runs over, holding his hand out for Sam to pick him up. There’s concern in his eyes that tells Sam not to cry in front of Dad now. Once he pulled Sam up, Dean lays one of his hands on Sam’s jaw.
“Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about sixteen years old, he brings a girl home for the first (and also last) time. She’s not his first girlfriend, but the first that he invited over. To be honest though, he probably wouldn’t have done so if he weren’t sure that Dean and Dad wouldn’t be home for a few days. Sam never felt comfortable bringing home a girl and he can’t really remember if any of the girls he dated in the past ever met his family. Not that it mattered now.
He quickly gives her the tour of their latest home and when she asks where his family is, Sam only shrugs and says with a shy smile that they won’t be there because they’re away on a work trip.
She grins broadly at Sam and when she says that she would like to see Sam’s room again, he grins right back before he grabs her by the hand, leading her upstairs.
Sam’s glad that he’s prepared for whatever’s going to happen now, thanks to Dean. If there is one thing you can always count on, then it is that Dean always has enough stuff in stock that one needs when getting laid. Not that secretly searching through Dean’s drawers in his brother’s room was a nice thing to do, but Sam was simply too embarrassed to ask, knowing just how much Dean would tease him about it.
And indeed, Sam did find everything he thought he’d need. Condoms, lube and that should do for the beginning. He remembers that he was pretty amazed at some of the utilities that Dean kept hidden, with cuffs and a collar certainly still being the rather normal objects.
So now, he finds himself in his room with his girlfriend, lust in their eyes. Slowly, Sam bends over to tenderly press his lips to hers. She immediately responds to the kiss, stroking Sam’s tongue with her own. Neither wants to lose more time as they quickly start undressing each other. By they time they discarded all clothes but their underwear, she’s writhing on top of Sam, rubbing her body against his in that sinful way that makes his groin react like it is supposed to in such situations.
Sam’s in a state of pure, honest bliss, thus, he releases a desperate moan. That is exactly the moment when the door opens with a shrill shriek. The sight he’s offered next is certainly the least thing he wanted to see, as Dean stands in the door - by all means exhausted, covered in blood and sweat, maybe even injured.
“Sammy, I’m ho-“
Dean doesn’t finish the sentence as he sees what he little brother had been up to and how he’s blushing furiously now.
“Dean!” Sam gasps and the girl only screams, trying to cover as much of her skin with her hands and arms as possible. Quickly, Dean backs up, leaving the room, heading for his own, mumbling words Sam doesn’t catch. In the meantime, the girl gets up to collect her clothes and to immediately stomp out of the room. As she leaves, she tells Sam that she doesn’t want to see him again. Ever.
Once he heard the door bang downstairs, Sam stands up too, searching for his jeans. Slowly, he walks over to Dean’s room and knocks against the door. His brother tells him to enter and looks at him with pity in his eyes and a hint of a teasing smirk.
“You’re hurt badly?” Sam asks, pointing at Dean’s arm that his brother currently is examining.
“Nah, don’t think so.” Dean doesn’t look up as he says almost inaudibly, “Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
***
When Sam is about 22, one little gesture changes the relationship with his brother forever.
“Dean!”
No reaction.
“Dean!”
Sam shouts as he roughly shakes his brother’s shoulders. He’s sitting on top of Dean’s motionless body, his thighs left and right of the older Winchester’s torso, while he’s listening carefully for breath or any other kind of reaction.
God, yes, he’s still breathing.
Softly, he presses his fingers to Dean’s throat just to sigh in relief the next moment.
Yes, there is also still a pulse.
“Dean,” he whimpers, scared for his brother, more than he ever has been before. With the sleeve of his hoodie, he wipes across Dean’s face, soaking up some of the blood that’s slowly dripping out of his wounds. They don’t look too bad, but still this doesn’t make the fact better that Dean isn’t moving in any way.
Sam knows it has been a bad idea to split up, this poltergeist has been a nasty one and they better had stayed together, but Dean insisted that they could work more effectively if they split up. Of course, Sam hadn’t felt comfortable with this at all, yet in the end he gave in, since all he wanted to was finish the job quickly and get back to the motel to get some sleep, since he hadn’t in days. Big mistake.
“Dean,” he repeats before he slowly bends down, bringing his ear to his brother’s full lips once more. Then, he hears a little gulp, a sound being emitted, that by all means took a lot of efforts to make. Sam turns his head slightly to look at the other man and check whether there are any movements yet.
“Hey,” Sam smiles as he sees Dean open his eyes only slightly until they seem like narrow slits. His grin soon reaches Cheshire proportions when Dean’s eyes open a tad further.
Sam feels all the tension and fear suddenly washed away and all that remains is pure, honest relief.
“Are you ok, Dean? Are you in pain? I mean, are you alright…God, Dean.”
Sam keeps rambling and only when he sees that apparently Dean wants to say something, his voice too weak though to make it speak up, he finally shuts his mouth. Quickly, Sam bends down again until his lips almost touch Dean’s.
Just in the moment when he’s about to turn his head, so that his ear is right above Dean’s mouth, his brother cranes his neck a little. Their lips meet and it takes Sam some time to realise that Dean is pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a bashful peck, shy and careful.
Sam is totally paralysed and doesn’t know how to react. He certainly didn’t expect this.
After a time that seems endless, Dean breaks the kiss, separating their lips, but definitely leaving his sweet taste on Sam. Slowly, he lays his head back on the ground. He closes his eyes for another second and Sam is nearly freaking out again, not knowing what’s happening right in front of him.
But then, Dean opens his eyes again and Sam can see a rosy blush on his brother’s face. It makes Dean look boyish and vulnerable. So totally un-Dean.
Eventually, Dean finds his words again and enough strength to whisper.
“Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to…”
But this time, Sam won’t let him finish the sentence as be bends down again to claim Dean’s lips in a fierce kiss. Once they both have to gasp for air, the younger brother only grins, “Fuck, but I do.”