Alone for the holidays again, Sam and Dean were smushed together under the scratchy comforter of their motel room. The heater was for shit, and certainly no match for the temperatures of winter in Montana.
They weren't just sharing the bed and the covers for warmth, though. Keeping their bodies as close together as possible had been habit for the past few months, since that first day in Arkansas this past summer when a sparring session went a little sideways and both boys ended up with cum-stained jeans and a new fascination.
Sam hadn't really had actual girlfriends before, just a few he dated and fooled around a little with before having to pack up and leave them behind. Dean hadn't ever had girlfriends, either, not really; plenty of sex but no relationships. So neither of them were all that familiar with romantic traditions between people who were intimate with each other.
But lying there half-sprawled over his brother watching the scene in Times Square on their crappy television, Sam was acutely aware of this particular tradition, the one where you grabbed someone and kissed them at the moment when the old year was gone and the new one had started. They hadn't been fooling around tonight, just snuggled under the blankets with every available body part touching but not moving.
And it wasn't like they hadn't kissed a hundred times before, but for some reason Sam thought kissing at midnight on New Years was special. Something that meant...something. As the minutes ticked down, though, he was suddenly self-conscious about initiating that midnight kiss. He didn't want Dean calling him a girl, or making fun of him for wanting to participate in this tradition that regular people with regular lives and regular relationships had. They weren't those people, they didn't have those lives and Sam wasn't really even sure what he and Dean were doing even counted as a relationship.
He was still lost in this thoughts and insecurity when he heard the roar from the television, signaling the clock ticking over to the new year. The hope in his eyes must have been easy to see, because Dean just cupped Sam's cheek in his hand and kissed him softly, gently, almost a chaste kiss.
I hadn't read this before I wrote one of the prompts below, but amusingly I almost set my NYE kiss between the boys in Montana too. :) This was lovely, so tender.
Alone for the holidays again, Sam and Dean were smushed together under the scratchy comforter of their motel room. The heater was for shit, and certainly no match for the temperatures of winter in Montana.
They weren't just sharing the bed and the covers for warmth, though. Keeping their bodies as close together as possible had been habit for the past few months, since that first day in Arkansas this past summer when a sparring session went a little sideways and both boys ended up with cum-stained jeans and a new fascination.
Sam hadn't really had actual girlfriends before, just a few he dated and fooled around a little with before having to pack up and leave them behind. Dean hadn't ever had girlfriends, either, not really; plenty of sex but no relationships. So neither of them were all that familiar with romantic traditions between people who were intimate with each other.
But lying there half-sprawled over his brother watching the scene in Times Square on their crappy television, Sam was acutely aware of this particular tradition, the one where you grabbed someone and kissed them at the moment when the old year was gone and the new one had started. They hadn't been fooling around tonight, just snuggled under the blankets with every available body part touching but not moving.
And it wasn't like they hadn't kissed a hundred times before, but for some reason Sam thought kissing at midnight on New Years was special. Something that meant...something. As the minutes ticked down, though, he was suddenly self-conscious about initiating that midnight kiss. He didn't want Dean calling him a girl, or making fun of him for wanting to participate in this tradition that regular people with regular lives and regular relationships had. They weren't those people, they didn't have those lives and Sam wasn't really even sure what he and Dean were doing even counted as a relationship.
He was still lost in this thoughts and insecurity when he heard the roar from the television, signaling the clock ticking over to the new year. The hope in his eyes must have been easy to see, because Dean just cupped Sam's cheek in his hand and kissed him softly, gently, almost a chaste kiss.
"Happy New Year, Sammy."
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