Five Times Sam Kissed Dean (Or Dean Kissed Him) - R, Sam/Dean
Title: Five Times Sam Kissed Dean (Or Dean Kissed Him)
Author: thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Ellen, Random Victim
Pairing: Sam/Dean, implied Bobby/Ellen
Word Count: 2,572
Rating: R, to be safe
Warnings: Incest, lots of boykissing
Spoilers: Anything already aired in the U.S. is fair game.
Disclaimer: Anything you recgonize was not created by me. I'm just borrowing. :)
Author's Note(s): For my wonderful LJ Mama, angstpuppy. This is payment for my lovely, angst-ridden header for juliet_fic.
All fics found here or here!
Summary: Five Sam/Dean kisses, from childhood on.
Five Times Sam Kissed Dean (Or Dean Kissed Him)
One
When Dean thinks back on his first kiss, the first kiss that really means anything, he doesn’t think of any girl. Dora Johnson, the busty 18-year-old who came onto him when he was just 12, isn’t the face that pops into his head, nor is Cindi Matthews, the experienced senior who took his virginity during his freshman year. Julia Daniel, the girlfriend he’d had in preschool for two hours, is the farthest thing from his mind.
No, it wasn’t a girl who showed him everything a kiss could mean. It was Sammy.
He remembers it like it was yesterday. Sammy had come home from school, on his 7th birthday, ready to make himself sick on cake and ice cream. But, Dad wasn’t there, waiting with presents. All the boys had was a note, saying that there was a hunt two states over and he’d be back in a couple days. There wasn’t even a “Happy Birthday” tacked at the end.
The shattered look on Sammy’s face had broken Dean’s heart. Being the brother he was, even at 11 years old, he dug the cigar box from underneath his bed, where he kept the money he’d been saving for a new pocket knife. What was a silly knife when your brother, your charge, needed to be cheered up?
Dean took Sammy to McDonald’s and let him order whatever he wanted, even if it wasn’t on the kids menu. On the way home, they stopped for ice cream and then hit up the video store.
After a night of gory, cheesy horror movies and several bowls of popcorn, Sammy had all but forgotten about his father’s letdown. It was driven further from his mind when he opened Dean’s gift.
Sam had never owned a brand-new anything, always getting Dean’s hand-me-downs or things bought at Goodwill. So, when he opened his brand-new sneakers, complete a with Batman theme, his face lit up.
Dean couldn’t have been more thrilled at the delighted squeal that erupted from Sam’s mouth as he bent over and helped Sammy exchange his battered shoes for the new ones, even tying up the laces for him.
Once he was tied and ready to go, Sammy burst off the couch and ran outside to test them out. It was dark out, a lone streetlight providing the only light, but Sam didn’t seem to care - he just ran in circles, giggling back at his pursuing brother.
Soon after, the kid wore himself out and fell asleep in Dean’s lap on the rickety porch swing. Dean picked Sammy up as best he could and carried him to their room. He laid his little brother down on their double bed and started to slide off the new shoes. Sam’s hand stopped him.
Dean looked up to find Sam sitting up in bed, smiling at him - albeit tiredly - with his arms open. “What is it Sammy?” Dean asked, quietly.
Sam grinned a bit wider, opened his arms a bit more and replied in a tiny, sheepish voice, “Can I sleep with them on?”
Dean chuckled and climbed up on the bed, lying down and letting his brother’s arms close around his stomach. “Anything for you, Sammy,” he whispered into downy curls.
Just when Dean was drifting off to sleep, fingers running through Sam’s hair, Sam spoke again. “Dean? You awake?”
Dean just grunted in reply, trying to snuggle further into the blankets as Sam shifted around to a sitting position. He looked up curiously. Sam’s eyes met his for a second before darting away again. Just as Dean was about to ask what was wrong, Sam leaned down and pressed his lips against Dean’s.
When Sam pulled away, a half-second later, he whispered, “Thanks, Dean.”
Dean smiled, trying to clamp down on the sudden quivering in his belly, and pulled Sam back down on the bed. Sam immediately cuddled in again.
“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Dean whispered, a few moments later, even though he was pretty sure Sam was asleep. “I love you, Sammy… More than I think you’ll ever know.”
* * *
Two
Sam knew there would be tears. But he never expected them to be flowing from Dean’s eyes as freely as they were his own.
He didn’t want to leave Dean, not in the slightest. But he needed to figure his life on his own; he needed to go somewhere that would allow him to untangle himself from Dean. They’d lived in each other’s pockets for his entire life. And somehow, in the middle of the hunting and the brotherly camaraderie, Sam’s feelings had changed from hero worship to something deeper. Truth be told, it terrified him.
Sam knew that if he admitted anything to Dean, if he told him just how in love with him he was, life would never be the same. They would never be the same. Either Dean would lash out and put a distance between them that Sam would never be able to bear or he’d give Sam what he wanted, but only because Sam wanted it.
It was fool to think that Dean could ever possibly feel the same way he did. Dean may not follow the rules, or even care that they existed, but he would never sink down into an emotion so immoral as incest.
But, none of that mattered at the moment. It was Judgment Day. Sam’s bus was leaving in 20 minutes. There wasn’t enough time for him to tell Dean he was sorry, wasn’t enough time to say goodbye even if Sam had really wanted to. So he did the only thing he could do.
He kissed Dean.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Dean was leaning forward to hug him one last time; Sam had Dean wrapped in his arms, wrapped around him, body and soul. Then, just as Dean was pulling back, pulling away, building up the walls he would need to survive Sam’s departure, Sam framed Dean’s face in his hands and pulled their lips together.
Dean gasped at the contact and Sam took the chance to slide his tongue into Dean’s mouth - it was all or nothing, now or never. The taste of Dean filled Sam’s entire being, calming him and setting every inch on fire at the same time. It was nothing like he’d expected and everything he’d hoped for. Kissing Dean was like delving into something forbidden, your favorite dessert that you’d never been allowed to have. It was nothing substantial and meant everything to Sam.
He was surprised to find that Dean was responding to him. Dean’s hands were suddenly on hips, gripping tight, most likely leaving bruises that Sam would miss after they faded. Dean’s tongue was strong and sure, twisting around Sam’s and exploring whatever he could. Sam’s knees grew weak, his mind going into overload from the sensations that Dean was causing. Just when he thought he would collapse, Dean’s grip tightened, one arm sliding around his waist, holding him upright as he’d done so many times before.
The brothers were forced apart when a call was made for Sam’s bus to load.
Sam couldn’t believe it was time to let go; time had completely stopped while he had Dean’s mouth on his. But, Dean was moving away, forcing them apart. Sam almost broke at the sight. Years of wondering, of beating himself up for wanting something so wrong, and now he had a definite answer. Dean wanted him too, and he was on the verge of leaving.
“Go,” he heard Dean whisper, as if he could tell what was going through Sam’s head. As if he knew that Sam wanted to change his mind.
Unconsciously his gaze drifted over to the massive Greyhound.
After a moment, Sam looked back to Dean, who had his eyes focused firmly on the ground. “What?” he responded dumbly.
Dean looked up then, determined. “I said that you should go. You do what you need to do.”
“Dean,” Sam breathed, taking in the sight of his big brother, tears drying on his face, love and pride shining at him from behind the familiar green eyes. He nodded. It was now or never…all or nothing.
He didn’t say goodbye; he couldn’t. He just returned Dean’s smile and walked away, the taste and feel of Dean burned into his soul forever.
* * *
Three
As kisses go, it wasn’t the best.
The angle was all wrong; he wasn’t used to having to stretch up to kiss someone. There was too much teeth, not enough tongue. There was too much passion, yet not enough force. And Sam refused to relinquish control.
There was everything and nothing in the kiss, and it all sent Dean’s body into overdrive, blood pumping too far south and not getting to the places where it was needed most. He was on the verge of fainting, just from having Sammy up against him, and he knew it. It was weak of him, girly for him to even be thinking in terms like he was, but this was him and Sam, and the chick-flick moments could just go fuck themselves.
Four years and five months since that loss-driven first step at the bus stop. Five months spent on the road, next to his brother in tight quarters. Five months with no mention of the gigantic elephant in the room, threatening to crush everyone in a five-mile radius with the weight of unresolved sexual tension.
And, to think, all it took was one bimbo in a mini-skirt to solve everything.
Sam’s hands were everywhere, but Dean barely noticed; all of his attention was focused firmly on Sam’s lips, Sam’s tongue, driving him insane.
It was perfect and it wasn’t, and he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
* * *
Four
Sam wasn’t really all that affectionate, despite what Dean seemed to think. (As a matter of fact, it was Dean who instigated the cuddling.) But he found himself being increasingly more so since he and his brother had finally gotten their act together.
It was the little moments that mattered, miniscule things that made Sam’s heart swell and carried him away from the harsh realities of the world. Like when Dean would get cornered by some bottle-blonde just out for a quick fuck, and he would stop, turn around to find Sam; he’d smile and turn back to the girl, putting her down as gently as he could. Or when he’d pass him his coffee, loaded with all the necessities that Dean hated, and their fingers would linger ever so slightly.
It all conspired to drive Sam crazy - with need, with love, with just plain want.
So, it really wasn’t his fault that he ended up kissing Dean in public. In a crowded bar. In front of someone they’d already told they were brothers.
Not his fault at all.
They were sitting in some backwater town, discussing the latest case with someone who’d survived an attack by whatever supernatural being it was (‘big’ and ‘scary’ weren’t exactly the most helpful clues). In order to make this kid trust them, they’d told him they were brothers whose father was killed by the same thing. It was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing they hadn’t been through a thousand times.
But then Dean passed Sam a fresh beer from the bar and smiled at him, all sweet and totally unrestrained - and Sam lost it. Rather than grabbing the beer, he grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him down into his vacated chair, simultaneously sliding himself closer. He reached out, wrapped his fingers around the back of Dean’s neck and fused their lips together.
He’s pretty sure he felt one of his lips crack, blood slowly seeping into his mouth, but he ignored it. Dean was responding - although hesistantly, to Dean’s credit, since they were likely to get beaten by a bunch of rednecks for the display - and sliding his tongue against Sam’s, the coppery taste of blood not seeming to matter. It was more overwhelming than Sam could have possibly imagined, taking him back to that moment at the bus stop where time stood still and the earth shook beneath his feet. There was no battle for dominance, no push and pull for control, it just was.
They were forced out of the moment when the would-be victim cleared his throat. Sam pulled away suddenly, surprised at what he’d just done. He turned wide eyes on the kid, who was just sitting there with an amused look on his face. He cleared his throat, glancing at Dean for help - though it was clear he wouldn’t be getting any. Dean was staring off into space, lips still glistening; his fingers were running along a slowly-forming, dreamy smile.
Sam groaned, preparing to apologize and back-track, but the kid raised a hand and stopped him.
“I knew there was no way you could really be brothers.”
* * *
Five
Okay, so stopping the Apocalypse with just a few moments to go? Pretty cool. Kissing your brother in front of people that had come to think of you as their children? Not cool.
It really wasn’t Dean’s fault. Really. They had nearly died! He was so relieved to have more time with Sam that he didn’t think; he just reached out, grabbed his brother and laid one on him.
It wasn’t exactly a chaste kiss either. The elation and adrenaline pumping through his veins - and through Sam’s too, if his response was any indication - didn’t allow him to remember his surroundings.
He pulled Sam’s face to his without any preamble, smiling against his brother’s lips when Sam’s arms snaked around his waist and pulled their bodies closer together. Sam made a sort of whimpering sound and parted Dean’s lips with his tongue, easily sliding it in Dean’s mouth and coaxing Dean to respond. Dean tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair, angling his head to force the kiss deeper, taking possession of it and infusing it with more passion. Sam could only hang on for the ride.
Until Bobby cleared his throat, of course. The Winchesters snapped out of their happy little trance and almost toppled over backwards from the force with which they pulled apart.
“Bobby,” Sam croaked, voice gone raspy from the kiss; Dean tried to hide the effect that the sound had on a certain part of his anatomy. “We can explain…”
Bobby held up a hand to stop Sam from the ramble which was sure to come. “You think I’m blind? Hell, anyone can see what you two feel from miles away. Who am I to judge?”
Dean just stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “What?” he asked eloquently, shaking himself out of the stupor.
Bobby grinned, while Ellen spoke up, “You boys found something in each other. The way you grew up, I’m not surprised. Just keep yourselves happy, okay?”
Dean nodded, noticing Sam do the same out of the corner of his eye.
After Bobby and Ellen climbed into Bobby’s car and drove off, Sam turned to Dean, wide grin plastered across his face. Dean’s heart swelled at the sight; Sam looked like years of his life had been erased, leaving him as bright and innocent as he once was.
Sam moved into his brother’s space and leaned his forehead against Dean’s, his breath ghosting over Dean’s lips. “So, where were we?”
Dean matched Sam’s smile and showed him exactly where they would be for the rest of their lives.
*************
You know the drill, folks - click on that little 'comment' link to let me know what you thought of it!! ^_^
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Author: thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Ellen, Random Victim
Pairing: Sam/Dean, implied Bobby/Ellen
Word Count: 2,572
Rating: R, to be safe
Warnings: Incest, lots of boykissing
Spoilers: Anything already aired in the U.S. is fair game.
Disclaimer: Anything you recgonize was not created by me. I'm just borrowing. :)
Author's Note(s): For my wonderful LJ Mama, angstpuppy. This is payment for my lovely, angst-ridden header for juliet_fic.
All fics found here or here!
Summary: Five Sam/Dean kisses, from childhood on.
Five Times Sam Kissed Dean (Or Dean Kissed Him)
One
When Dean thinks back on his first kiss, the first kiss that really means anything, he doesn’t think of any girl. Dora Johnson, the busty 18-year-old who came onto him when he was just 12, isn’t the face that pops into his head, nor is Cindi Matthews, the experienced senior who took his virginity during his freshman year. Julia Daniel, the girlfriend he’d had in preschool for two hours, is the farthest thing from his mind.
No, it wasn’t a girl who showed him everything a kiss could mean. It was Sammy.
He remembers it like it was yesterday. Sammy had come home from school, on his 7th birthday, ready to make himself sick on cake and ice cream. But, Dad wasn’t there, waiting with presents. All the boys had was a note, saying that there was a hunt two states over and he’d be back in a couple days. There wasn’t even a “Happy Birthday” tacked at the end.
The shattered look on Sammy’s face had broken Dean’s heart. Being the brother he was, even at 11 years old, he dug the cigar box from underneath his bed, where he kept the money he’d been saving for a new pocket knife. What was a silly knife when your brother, your charge, needed to be cheered up?
Dean took Sammy to McDonald’s and let him order whatever he wanted, even if it wasn’t on the kids menu. On the way home, they stopped for ice cream and then hit up the video store.
After a night of gory, cheesy horror movies and several bowls of popcorn, Sammy had all but forgotten about his father’s letdown. It was driven further from his mind when he opened Dean’s gift.
Sam had never owned a brand-new anything, always getting Dean’s hand-me-downs or things bought at Goodwill. So, when he opened his brand-new sneakers, complete a with Batman theme, his face lit up.
Dean couldn’t have been more thrilled at the delighted squeal that erupted from Sam’s mouth as he bent over and helped Sammy exchange his battered shoes for the new ones, even tying up the laces for him.
Once he was tied and ready to go, Sammy burst off the couch and ran outside to test them out. It was dark out, a lone streetlight providing the only light, but Sam didn’t seem to care - he just ran in circles, giggling back at his pursuing brother.
Soon after, the kid wore himself out and fell asleep in Dean’s lap on the rickety porch swing. Dean picked Sammy up as best he could and carried him to their room. He laid his little brother down on their double bed and started to slide off the new shoes. Sam’s hand stopped him.
Dean looked up to find Sam sitting up in bed, smiling at him - albeit tiredly - with his arms open. “What is it Sammy?” Dean asked, quietly.
Sam grinned a bit wider, opened his arms a bit more and replied in a tiny, sheepish voice, “Can I sleep with them on?”
Dean chuckled and climbed up on the bed, lying down and letting his brother’s arms close around his stomach. “Anything for you, Sammy,” he whispered into downy curls.
Just when Dean was drifting off to sleep, fingers running through Sam’s hair, Sam spoke again. “Dean? You awake?”
Dean just grunted in reply, trying to snuggle further into the blankets as Sam shifted around to a sitting position. He looked up curiously. Sam’s eyes met his for a second before darting away again. Just as Dean was about to ask what was wrong, Sam leaned down and pressed his lips against Dean’s.
When Sam pulled away, a half-second later, he whispered, “Thanks, Dean.”
Dean smiled, trying to clamp down on the sudden quivering in his belly, and pulled Sam back down on the bed. Sam immediately cuddled in again.
“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Dean whispered, a few moments later, even though he was pretty sure Sam was asleep. “I love you, Sammy… More than I think you’ll ever know.”
* * *
Two
Sam knew there would be tears. But he never expected them to be flowing from Dean’s eyes as freely as they were his own.
He didn’t want to leave Dean, not in the slightest. But he needed to figure his life on his own; he needed to go somewhere that would allow him to untangle himself from Dean. They’d lived in each other’s pockets for his entire life. And somehow, in the middle of the hunting and the brotherly camaraderie, Sam’s feelings had changed from hero worship to something deeper. Truth be told, it terrified him.
Sam knew that if he admitted anything to Dean, if he told him just how in love with him he was, life would never be the same. They would never be the same. Either Dean would lash out and put a distance between them that Sam would never be able to bear or he’d give Sam what he wanted, but only because Sam wanted it.
It was fool to think that Dean could ever possibly feel the same way he did. Dean may not follow the rules, or even care that they existed, but he would never sink down into an emotion so immoral as incest.
But, none of that mattered at the moment. It was Judgment Day. Sam’s bus was leaving in 20 minutes. There wasn’t enough time for him to tell Dean he was sorry, wasn’t enough time to say goodbye even if Sam had really wanted to. So he did the only thing he could do.
He kissed Dean.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Dean was leaning forward to hug him one last time; Sam had Dean wrapped in his arms, wrapped around him, body and soul. Then, just as Dean was pulling back, pulling away, building up the walls he would need to survive Sam’s departure, Sam framed Dean’s face in his hands and pulled their lips together.
Dean gasped at the contact and Sam took the chance to slide his tongue into Dean’s mouth - it was all or nothing, now or never. The taste of Dean filled Sam’s entire being, calming him and setting every inch on fire at the same time. It was nothing like he’d expected and everything he’d hoped for. Kissing Dean was like delving into something forbidden, your favorite dessert that you’d never been allowed to have. It was nothing substantial and meant everything to Sam.
He was surprised to find that Dean was responding to him. Dean’s hands were suddenly on hips, gripping tight, most likely leaving bruises that Sam would miss after they faded. Dean’s tongue was strong and sure, twisting around Sam’s and exploring whatever he could. Sam’s knees grew weak, his mind going into overload from the sensations that Dean was causing. Just when he thought he would collapse, Dean’s grip tightened, one arm sliding around his waist, holding him upright as he’d done so many times before.
The brothers were forced apart when a call was made for Sam’s bus to load.
Sam couldn’t believe it was time to let go; time had completely stopped while he had Dean’s mouth on his. But, Dean was moving away, forcing them apart. Sam almost broke at the sight. Years of wondering, of beating himself up for wanting something so wrong, and now he had a definite answer. Dean wanted him too, and he was on the verge of leaving.
“Go,” he heard Dean whisper, as if he could tell what was going through Sam’s head. As if he knew that Sam wanted to change his mind.
Unconsciously his gaze drifted over to the massive Greyhound.
After a moment, Sam looked back to Dean, who had his eyes focused firmly on the ground. “What?” he responded dumbly.
Dean looked up then, determined. “I said that you should go. You do what you need to do.”
“Dean,” Sam breathed, taking in the sight of his big brother, tears drying on his face, love and pride shining at him from behind the familiar green eyes. He nodded. It was now or never…all or nothing.
He didn’t say goodbye; he couldn’t. He just returned Dean’s smile and walked away, the taste and feel of Dean burned into his soul forever.
* * *
Three
As kisses go, it wasn’t the best.
The angle was all wrong; he wasn’t used to having to stretch up to kiss someone. There was too much teeth, not enough tongue. There was too much passion, yet not enough force. And Sam refused to relinquish control.
There was everything and nothing in the kiss, and it all sent Dean’s body into overdrive, blood pumping too far south and not getting to the places where it was needed most. He was on the verge of fainting, just from having Sammy up against him, and he knew it. It was weak of him, girly for him to even be thinking in terms like he was, but this was him and Sam, and the chick-flick moments could just go fuck themselves.
Four years and five months since that loss-driven first step at the bus stop. Five months spent on the road, next to his brother in tight quarters. Five months with no mention of the gigantic elephant in the room, threatening to crush everyone in a five-mile radius with the weight of unresolved sexual tension.
And, to think, all it took was one bimbo in a mini-skirt to solve everything.
Sam’s hands were everywhere, but Dean barely noticed; all of his attention was focused firmly on Sam’s lips, Sam’s tongue, driving him insane.
It was perfect and it wasn’t, and he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
* * *
Four
Sam wasn’t really all that affectionate, despite what Dean seemed to think. (As a matter of fact, it was Dean who instigated the cuddling.) But he found himself being increasingly more so since he and his brother had finally gotten their act together.
It was the little moments that mattered, miniscule things that made Sam’s heart swell and carried him away from the harsh realities of the world. Like when Dean would get cornered by some bottle-blonde just out for a quick fuck, and he would stop, turn around to find Sam; he’d smile and turn back to the girl, putting her down as gently as he could. Or when he’d pass him his coffee, loaded with all the necessities that Dean hated, and their fingers would linger ever so slightly.
It all conspired to drive Sam crazy - with need, with love, with just plain want.
So, it really wasn’t his fault that he ended up kissing Dean in public. In a crowded bar. In front of someone they’d already told they were brothers.
Not his fault at all.
They were sitting in some backwater town, discussing the latest case with someone who’d survived an attack by whatever supernatural being it was (‘big’ and ‘scary’ weren’t exactly the most helpful clues). In order to make this kid trust them, they’d told him they were brothers whose father was killed by the same thing. It was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing they hadn’t been through a thousand times.
But then Dean passed Sam a fresh beer from the bar and smiled at him, all sweet and totally unrestrained - and Sam lost it. Rather than grabbing the beer, he grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him down into his vacated chair, simultaneously sliding himself closer. He reached out, wrapped his fingers around the back of Dean’s neck and fused their lips together.
He’s pretty sure he felt one of his lips crack, blood slowly seeping into his mouth, but he ignored it. Dean was responding - although hesistantly, to Dean’s credit, since they were likely to get beaten by a bunch of rednecks for the display - and sliding his tongue against Sam’s, the coppery taste of blood not seeming to matter. It was more overwhelming than Sam could have possibly imagined, taking him back to that moment at the bus stop where time stood still and the earth shook beneath his feet. There was no battle for dominance, no push and pull for control, it just was.
They were forced out of the moment when the would-be victim cleared his throat. Sam pulled away suddenly, surprised at what he’d just done. He turned wide eyes on the kid, who was just sitting there with an amused look on his face. He cleared his throat, glancing at Dean for help - though it was clear he wouldn’t be getting any. Dean was staring off into space, lips still glistening; his fingers were running along a slowly-forming, dreamy smile.
Sam groaned, preparing to apologize and back-track, but the kid raised a hand and stopped him.
“I knew there was no way you could really be brothers.”
* * *
Five
Okay, so stopping the Apocalypse with just a few moments to go? Pretty cool. Kissing your brother in front of people that had come to think of you as their children? Not cool.
It really wasn’t Dean’s fault. Really. They had nearly died! He was so relieved to have more time with Sam that he didn’t think; he just reached out, grabbed his brother and laid one on him.
It wasn’t exactly a chaste kiss either. The elation and adrenaline pumping through his veins - and through Sam’s too, if his response was any indication - didn’t allow him to remember his surroundings.
He pulled Sam’s face to his without any preamble, smiling against his brother’s lips when Sam’s arms snaked around his waist and pulled their bodies closer together. Sam made a sort of whimpering sound and parted Dean’s lips with his tongue, easily sliding it in Dean’s mouth and coaxing Dean to respond. Dean tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair, angling his head to force the kiss deeper, taking possession of it and infusing it with more passion. Sam could only hang on for the ride.
Until Bobby cleared his throat, of course. The Winchesters snapped out of their happy little trance and almost toppled over backwards from the force with which they pulled apart.
“Bobby,” Sam croaked, voice gone raspy from the kiss; Dean tried to hide the effect that the sound had on a certain part of his anatomy. “We can explain…”
Bobby held up a hand to stop Sam from the ramble which was sure to come. “You think I’m blind? Hell, anyone can see what you two feel from miles away. Who am I to judge?”
Dean just stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “What?” he asked eloquently, shaking himself out of the stupor.
Bobby grinned, while Ellen spoke up, “You boys found something in each other. The way you grew up, I’m not surprised. Just keep yourselves happy, okay?”
Dean nodded, noticing Sam do the same out of the corner of his eye.
After Bobby and Ellen climbed into Bobby’s car and drove off, Sam turned to Dean, wide grin plastered across his face. Dean’s heart swelled at the sight; Sam looked like years of his life had been erased, leaving him as bright and innocent as he once was.
Sam moved into his brother’s space and leaned his forehead against Dean’s, his breath ghosting over Dean’s lips. “So, where were we?”
Dean matched Sam’s smile and showed him exactly where they would be for the rest of their lives.
*************
You know the drill, folks - click on that little 'comment' link to let me know what you thought of it!! ^_^
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