Archive of Our Own

Author: destial

Sammy is nineteen today. He's got some decisions to make.

--Excerpt from John Winchester's Journal, May 2, 2002

"Dean."

Dean's brow furrows, but he refuses to wake up.

"Dean."

Dean grumbles and rolls away from the sound.

"Deeeeeeaaaaaaaaaan."

"What Sam!?" Dean finally snaps, but he's still mostly asleep so it comes out as barely a breath of air.

"Come here."

Dean sighs but rolls to the edge of the bed, looking down at Sam. His brother is on the rollaway, tucked between Dean's bed and the wall, and leaning up towards Dean.

Sam smiles, teeth flashing white in the dark, before pulling Dean forward onto his lips.

Dean stiffens automatically but forces himself to relax; he had grown comfortable kissing Sam in the last couple months, despite himself, but sometimes his brother surprised him and he still can't fight his initial reaction when he does that.

He remembers himself, though, and pushes Sam away.

"Sam!" he hisses, "Dad's asleep five feet away."

Sam makes an annoyed noise and tries to pull Dean back. "Just be real quiet then."

Dean slaps Sam's hands way. "You're the one that can't keep quiet."

"Deeeaaan." Sam is positively whining now, but is keeping his voice impressively soft. "I turned nineteen today. Don't I deserve a proper gift?"

"Oh, you brat." Dean thinks for a minute. "Yea, okay, come on."

He rolls back over and slips out of the other side of his bed, keeping a watchful eye on their dad. Sam crawls around him and opens the door so slowly, it's like he's trying to prove something. Dean kind of wants their dad to wake up.

He doesn't.

They'd had a good night, good enough that dad had felt comfortable drinking too much. He had the deep snore of a nice, drunken sleep going on and nothing short of actually slamming the door would probably even phase him.

Dean snags the Impala's keys on the way past Sam and Sam closes the door just as carefully as he opened it. He turns to Dean with a huge grin when he's done and Dean's response is as ingrained as a reflex; he grins back.

Once the car is unlocked, Sam is shoving Dean into the backseat, catching him in a kiss before the door can even close.

"Whoa there, Sammy," Dean says, startled. "Little eager, are you?"

"Been thinking about this all day," Sam groans, and it's said more into Dean's mouth than anything because Sam apparently doesn't want to stop kissing long enough to talk.

Dean lets out a muffled laugh because what else can he do?

He likes to think he's gotten pretty good at kissing Sam. He started thinking about it as just helping Sam out. When this had all started, he'd used too much teeth and not enough tongue; Sam went after a mouth like a starving dog went after a steak. Dean had shown him, though. He had slowed him down, showed him how to open a mouth with just lips, taught him how to make your partners knees go weak with a flick of the tongue.

Sam's not kissing slow and sweet right now. He's being rough and desperate and Dean lets himself feel flattered that Sam wants him so badly he'd lose control like this. He laughs again, still into Sam's mouth, and his brother responds with his own huffed breath. They break apart then, laughing low and soft.

"So," Dean drawls as they quiet down. "You want a b-day bj, Sammy?"

Sam nods, then shakes his head.

"I want to suck you," he says and hides his face in Dean's neck. He still gets shy sometimes about this stuff, which really doesn't help the situation any.

Dean's breath hitches and Sam grins against the curve of his neck.

"It's your birthday, man," he says after a minute. "You shouldn't be doing anything for me."

"I want to," Sam mumbles. "You always take care of me, Dean. Let me take care of you."

Dean could never say no to Sam when he really wanted something – never really tried – and this was no different.

"Yea, okay."

Sam lets out a small happy noise and then he's cupping Dean's cock. He pulls away from Dean's neck and looks down, puzzled.

"You're not hard," he accuses.

"I'm not a teenager anymore," Dean poses as an excuse. "I'm not roaring and ready to go after a couple kisses. Haven't I taught you anything?"

Sam just stares at him. It's the little brother, what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about? stare that Sam likes to give him when Dean says something particularly stupid and Dean can't curb the instinct to cuff Sam on the ear.

"Foreplay!" he says. "Would you give a girl a couple kisses and then stick your hand down her pants?"

"No, but you're no-"

"Then why do you think you can grab a dick and go to town?" Dean asks, talking right over Sam's response. "Do you even know any of my hotspots?"

Sam actually looks cowed at that.

"I didn't think-" he starts.

Dean cuts him off again, his voice becoming gentle as he says, "It's okay Sammy. This'll just have to be a learning experience. You like learning, think of it as a bonus."

And that gets a grin out of him at least.

Dean's not sure where this calm has come from because this is the moment he's been dreading. Until now, he's been able to go without or take care of himself and Sam hasn't really brought it up again. And thinking of Sam mapping out Dean's body makes him feel dirty in all the wrong ways.

So he doesn't think about that. He helps Sam pull his shirt off and then he closes his eyes and leans back and imagines it's not really Sam, running hands up and down his sides, exploring his chest with curious tongue and teeth. It's just some girl from a bar he's picked up, some young chick that thinks his car is hot but he's hotter and she's so impatient she's cool with a quickie in the backseat.

But Dean's downfall has always been and will always be his regard for his brother. As soon as he thinks that he feels guilty. He feels just as guilty because he'd replaced Sam in his head – even Sam doing something no little brother should do – with some no name bar skank as because this is a new experience for Sam and he deserves his partner to be there with him all the way through. Dean's first blow job meant nothing, same for the first time he went down on a girl and the first time he had sex. And while Dean really doesn't mind that – nothing besides his family has ever meant anything to Dean anyway – Sammy deserves better.

Of course, when Sam's tongue flicks that spot next to his belly button and Dean arches and moans, cock for the first time ever hardening to Sam's touch, Dean kind of wants to shoot himself.

It's the Catch-22 that's become his life but it's okay. Not like Dean's never hated himself for stuff before, a little more can't hurt too much. Especially when Sam's grinning so big against his stomach, so big he's reduced to just pressing his face against Dean because he can't get his mouth to shape right for a kiss.

Sam's hand is back on Dean's cock, curious but firm touches that actually affect Dean this time. He has this wondrous look on his face like he can't quite believe what he's doing.

"I've never felt you before," Sam says quietly. "You've never let me touch you like this."

Dean can't seem to look away from Sam's face anymore. His own expression has softened in response to Sam's; Sammy is so beautiful right now, with that open, earnest expression. Even though it's the wrong kind, Dean can feel Sam's love rolling off him in waves. Dean thinks he'd let Sam do anything he wanted, willingly, if he always felt like this.

It's this that prompts him to cup Sam's face in his hand, thumb stroking back and forth on his prominent cheekbone.

"Can I, Dean?" Sam whispers against his hip.

"Yea, Sam," Dean answers back, just as quietly. "Whatever you want."

Sam breaths in one deep, long breath, then lets it out slowly. His eyes are almost fully dilated.

Dean helps Sam pull off his boxers, lifts his hips so they can slide right down. His cock is half hard, lying against his thigh and Dean's never seen Sam look quite so hungry before.

Sam doesn't go right for it, though. Just bites his lip and glances up at Dean through his bangs and God damn it, Dean will never feel like anything but a pervert again because there's no one that couldn't see that and not get turned on.

"I don't know what to do," Sam admits.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean says. "I'll teach you."

Because it's easier if that's what this is: a big brother showing a little brother the ropes. It may be cock sucking, but if that's what Sam wants to learn, then Dean'll teach him.

And this next moment, this next moment is one Dean will never be able to get over, never be able to forgive himself for. Because when it comes down to it, when Dean's honest with himself, he's the one that lead Sam's mouth onto his cock, pressing gentle fingers into Sam's nape. He's the one that pushed Sam lower and rolled his hips up, the one that whimpered when Sam moaned around him.

It was Sam's nineteenth birthday and Dean will never forgive himself because he put his dick in his baby brother's mouth and liked it.

Sam gets more enthusiastic once he tastes Dean, bobbing his head like a pro, swiping his tongue across the head, mimicking what Dean's done to him. And Dean, because he's talkative when he's actually enjoying sex, encourages him.

"Just like that, Sammy. Make it wet, 's always better wet. Ung, righ-right there, Sammy."

Sam alternates between twisting his head and tongue and humming around Dean, so Dean's on the edge pretty quick. Then Sam stops.

Dean had thrown his head back and shut his eyes early on, but he looks down to see what the problem is. Sam is staring up at him, his lips wrapped around the head of Dean's cock and Dean can't look away, can't keep in the groan at the sight.

Sam has that glint in his eye, the one he always gets right before he one-ups Dean somehow. He holds Dean's stare for a long moment before sinking all the way down Dean's cock.

Dean can only star at him, wide eyed, equal parts shocked, impressed, and holyfuckinggod aroused. The kid's never sucked a cock before, much less deep throated and to get it on the first go…

When Sam starts humming and undulating his tongue as much as he can across the underside, it's over for Dean. He lets out a broken moan, clenching a fist in Sam's hair, as he comes. And Sam, God damn, is taking it. He's sucking just as earnestly as before, milking Dean for all he's worth.

When Dean finally comes down from it, he tries to keep his eyes closed but then Sam surprises him by kissing him. When he pulls away, Sam looks absolutely sated, like he'd the one that had just had his cock sucked.

"You taste good," Sam says, eyes intense.

"Jesus Sammy. Don't say that."

"Why? Gonna make you hot again?"

It's an honest question but Dean ignores it.

"Well, come on," he says, "let me take care of you so we can go back inside."

"Nope, don't need it."

Dean's confused for a second before it hits him. When it does, he just gapes at Sam.

"Sam, did you just get off on blowing me?" he finally manages.

Sam just grins and says, "Dean, you moan real pretty, like I knew you would."