Title: Moonlight And Moss In The Trees - Chapter Three
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester (mentioned)
W/C: 1,258
Pairing/Rating: Dean/Sam (non-explicit underage, Sam is 14)
Summary: Dean figured he was going to cave at some point, he just thought it might be…not now.
For
spn_30snapshots, prompt #16, kiss
I have loved you as a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
June 30, 1997
There was no question that Dean Winchester was an exceptionally skilled liar. He’d learned most of what he knew from his father, but had his own tricks as well. It wasn’t that he got some kind of kick out of it, or made things up for the purpose of having other people think he was better than he actually was. He’d seen guys in bars telling girls lies about having important jobs or not being married or whatever they needed to say to get into the girls’ pants. Dean generally did it out of necessity - you couldn’t exactly go around telling people your family hunted monsters because a demon had murdered your mother, or that your dad had started leaving you alone to care for your kid brother for extended periods of time before you were even in high school.
He had a hard time lying to Sam, probably because Sam called him on his bullshit every time. He rarely lied to his father, mostly due to his fear of the consequences. But Dean was always, always, one-hundred percent honest with himself. Having no other choice but to spend so much of his life pretending to the outside world, being truthful in his own mind was important to him.
Because of this personal honesty policy, Dean didn’t bother to deny to himself that he was physically attracted to Sam. He knew it was pretty fucked up, and it certainly wasn’t a feeling he planned to share with anyone, but he never tried to write it off as a fluke or make it into something it wasn’t. He loved Sammy, in the regular way that an older brother loves his younger brother, but he also wanted Sammy, not in the way that was normal for brothers. Objectively, after this latest growth spurt around his fourteenth birthday, Sam was getting taller, growing into his frame, and generally had just gotten really good-looking. Dean hadn’t even been with another guy, but he’d thought about it. Didn’t think it was a big deal, honestly. Hot was hot, in his book.
Finding your little brother hot did not belong in that book.
Your little brother making it obvious that the feeling was mutual also did not belong in that book.
Once Sam was out of school that year, their dad had moved them a little south of Montgomery, Alabama, into a small cabin in a rural area. Dean and Sam were pretty much on their own for the past month or so. This was in some ways a very good thing and in some ways a very dangerous thing. Pros: not having to constantly break up arguments between Sam and John. Trying to find a way to keep the peace without choosing a side was damn near impossible. Getting to see that different side of Sam that came out into the open when their dad wasn’t around. Using his own ideas for training, which he thought would be more effective for Sam than John’s were. Cons: Missing out on valuable hunting experience because this one had been deemed too dangerous for Dean and neither Dean nor John wanted Sam left alone for as long as the current hunt with Caleb was going to take. Having to hold back when he caught Sammy looking at him like that when they jumped into the water off of one of the lower bridges near their house.
He liked hunting, truly. Not only because gaining approval from his father was important to him (though of course that was part of it), but also because it made him feel like he was making a real difference. He’d finally started to understand how important the saving people thing that John had always gone on about really was. At eighteen, Dean had been on plenty of hunts with his dad, and he knew he was damn good - and not just for his age; taking age out of the equation, he was still really fucking good at killing monsters. Just not this one, according to John. And there was no getting around it once the decision was made.
Dean had a job busing tables at a truck stop diner near the highway. But it was Monday and he was off because he’d worked a double the day before. The temperature was going to be close to a hundred degrees, and since their quaint and cozy (read: outdated and tiny) cabin had nothing but one half-dead window unit air conditioner, they once again sought out water for refuge from the heat.
They’d forgotten towels, but that didn’t matter much when the sun had them almost completely dry within minutes of leaving the water. That day Sam and Dean hadn’t left until after lunchtime, and they were having so much fun that the sun was setting before they finally headed toward the cooler they’d brought with them (beer for Dean, blue Gatorade for Sam). Even with the moon starting to creep its way up into the sky, the heat was stifling.
That didn’t stop Sam from leaning in close where they were sitting shoulder to shoulder by the cooler. And there it was again - not straight on this time, just from the side, but still - that look. For a kid with literally no sexual experience, Sammy was brazen as fuck, appraising Dean from his dripping hair down past his clinging boxers.
Sitting with their backs to the trees wasn’t even really uncomfortable because of all the green life growing on them. When Sam twisted at the waist to get a better look at Dean, there was really not even any reason for a big conversation. All he said was, “Come on Dean, please”, moving in a little closer, “please?”
Dean didn’t question for a moment what Sammy was asking for, but he did question his own willpower. He’d always known it would happen eventually. Sam was still so young, but it wasn’t like Dean hadn’t done his fair share of kissing at fourteen.
The small physical distance between them closed in an instant, and their first kiss was chaste; tame and sweet, there against the mossy trees of Woodley Road. They didn’t stop, not for a while, and there was even a little bit of tongue involved when Sam pushed it and Dean opened his mouth.
After a while, though, full dark was closing in and they knew they had to start walking home. Once they were ready to move, Dean gave Sam the only words he would speak regarding the subject for the time being. “Please, Sammy - please just…don’t ask me for more, okay? I’m not saying not ever, I’m just saying not now. I’m telling you that I…that you…”, God, this was so much harder to put into words than the simple request Dean had in his head, “just, don’t ask me for more than this.”
It was glaringly obvious to both of them that Dean was giving away a whole lot of information in those few words. He was telling Sam, without actually saying it, that he knew he couldn’t say no but wasn’t ready or comfortable with going any further than the slow kisses they’d just exchanged. Sam nodded in reply, but both boys knew Sam’s respect for Dean’s comfort level in this situation was the only thing stopping them from doing anything else.
Dean just had to hope that would be enough. For now.