
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/496086.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Not_Related, Underage_Kissing, Frottage, Mildly
      Dubious_Consent
  Series:
      Part 1 of Not_A_Verse
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-26 Words: 2896
****** Love and Other Processed Sweeteners ******
by BewareTheIdes15
Summary
     Sam's trying to figure out what it meant when Dean kissed him, but he
     doesn't really have anyone but Dean he can ask.
Notes
     This is an older series that it was pointed out to me was not up on
     here yet. They were not actually written in chronological order, but
     I'm posting them in the order they are meant to flow as a story.
     WARNING NOTE: There is no actual sex in this installment, but there
     is underage sexuality at ages the some would consider extreme
     underage (Sam is 10, Dean is 12). I do not feel that it is non-
     consensual, but I understand that this could be triggery for some
     people. If you are sensitive to these issues, I recommend skipping
     ahead a story or two in the verse.
Sometimes Sam's not sure why he does the things he does; like biting his
fingernails and following Dean Winchester around - he doesn't really mean to do
it, he just does.
Following Dean home from school makes sense since they live next door to each
other so they're both going the same way. Plus, when the school year started
and Sam's mom decided to move out, his dad said Sam was old enough to walk to
and from school and had made Dean promise to look out for Sam.
He's pretty sure his dad just meant 'don't let Sam run in front of cars' or
something stupid like that - even though he's ten and not, in fact, a dumb-butt
- but Dean takes it seriously; waiting for Sam in front of the house before
school and the main class building after, keeping right in step with him until
they've reached their destination, not even taking his eyes off of Sam when
they go in the E-Z Stop to grab some snacks on the way home. The rest of the
time though, Dean pretty much ignores Sam; or at least he used to.
After last night he's not sure what Dean does anymore. It's really confusing.
He'd never been kissed before, not by anyone he wasn't related to anyway; heck,
he hadn't even known people could kiss like that. It wasn't the way people do
it on TV or in movies; it was all wet and squishy and mostly like Dean licking
Sam's tongue over and over. It hadn't exactly felt good, but it didn't really
feel bad either - it made him feel kind of warm and squirmy inside and he
wasn't really sure what to do with it.
The thing was, he knew, in that deep down way, that this wasn't something he
could ask his dad or a teacher about without getting Dean in trouble and he
didn't think anybody else he knew was going to be able to answer - most kids
his age didn't get to hang out with cool sixth graders like Dean. So from where
Sam's standing, his only choice is to go and ask Dean about it.
Everybody says Sam's really smart, times like this he's not sure they're right.
Dean's sitting on an old wooden crate that's been behind the Winchester's house
since before it was the Winchester's house. He's not really doing anything but
staring out at the trees, one leg brought up so he can lean his head against it
as he eats the pack of sour gummi worms he bought after school. It still looks
pretty cool, when Dean’s the one doing it.
He looks up when Sam comes around the side out the house and his lips twitch up
into a small smile like he's actually happy to see Sam; most afternoons he just
tells Sam to 'fuck off'. It's weird enough to make Sam stop with a few feet of
space between them, a sudden flash reminding him of how easily Dean got him
pinned down last night.
Dean's smile turns into a smirk - that was one of Sam's vocabulary words last
week and the first thing he thought of when he read it was Dean - but he holds
out the bag of gummi worms to Sam and asks, "You want?"
Hesitantly Sam reaches into the cellophane pouch and pulls out a red and blue
length of candy, sparkly all over with whatever it is that makes them taste
sour. He chews on it thoughtfully as Dean watches him, not really sure what to
do with himself now that he's here.
"You didn't tell, right?" Dean asks easily, like he doesn't care either way and
Sam tries to figure out what he did to make it sound like that so maybe one day
he can be awesome too. Sam shakes his head, staring at a patch of flowery weeds
growing up around the base of Dean's crate. "Cool."
There's probably a good reason why Sam shouldn't feel glowy and warm just
because Dean called him cool, but he can't think of it.
Dean crinkles around in the bag, drawing out another red and blue worm between
his fingers. He holds it out to Sam, but when Sam reaches to try and take the
candy from between Dean's fingers, the older boy pulls it away, shaking his
head with that smirk. Sam tries again with the same result before he figures
out what Dean wants. He holds back for a second, that little voice in his head
telling him what a really bad idea this is, but Dean's looking at him, waiting,
and if he backs out now he's going to look like a big wimp over nothing. So
what choice does he have?
Sam leans in, watching Dean's eyes because he feels kind of stupid but Dean
just looks pleased as Sam opens his mouth and nibbles the candy right out of
Dean's hand. Somehow in the middle of it Dean's finger slips inside Sam's
mouth, petting at his tongue for just a second before it slides free. Sam
doesn't know why but his whole body suddenly feels too hot and tiny.
Dean 'mmm's and while Sam's trying to figure out what that means, Dean's spit-
sticky fingers slide into the beltloop on Sam's jeans and pull him in so
they're almost too close to look at each other without Sam's eyes going all
fuzzy.
"I wanna see it," Dean says, his voice sounding way too low. He bumps Sam's
nose softly with his own, the smell of artificial fruit flavoring sharp on the
breaths puffing into the space between their lips.
Sam's mouth can't seem to decide if it's wet or dry; flooding with saliva one
second so he has to swallow with a gulp and then drying up like he's got a
fever so that he rubs his sticky tongue against the roof of it over and over.
Everything's confusing and fluttery again and he can't really breathe right
with Dean so close, though he's not sure why that should make a difference.
Luckily Dean completely distracts him by walking his fingers up Sam's chest to
hook in the collar of his blue t-shirt and pull it down. He knows the purple
spot is still there - he checked it every time he went to the bathroom today,
couldn't help pressing at it to feel the soft little ache like a bruise.
Actually, he thinks maybe it is a bruise, but he's not sure how Dean kissing
his chest could leave a bruise; it's another one of those things he can't ask
and nobody's ever bothered to explain. Maybe he'll ask Dean about that too,
just as soon as he remembers how to talk.
Dean seems to like the bruise or whatever it is. He makes that happy little
'mmm' noise in his throat again when he runs a finger over it and Sam's not a
baby - no matter what Brian Turner says - so he doesn't whine even though it
kinda hurts a little.
"You ever had one before?" Dean whispers. He sounds almost eager and that would
be even more confusing except Sam feels kind of eager too, though he's not sure
what for. Sam's had plenty of bruises before, but he's pretty sure this is
different somehow so he shakes his head 'no', their foreheads grinding together
when Dean leans in.
Dean's never really been mean to Sam or anything, but he's never really been
friendly either - they're around each other a lot, but that doesn't mean Dean's
going to be friends with a little kid like Sam. He never figured it was going
to be anything different - he's always thought of Dean as kind of like a big
brother and as far as he can tell Dean's always treated him like a lot of the
guys in Sam's class get treated by their older brothers, but now he's not
exactly sure about all of that because he really doubts that most of the guys
he knows feel all wriggly and hot when their brother's touch him. Then again,
most of their brothers probably don't touch them like this.
"You could…" Dean looks down into the little space between their bodies when he
pauses, "you know, to me. If you want." He taps a quick rhythm on the spot on
Sam's collar bone, the muted jolts of pain making it clear what he means.
"Oh," Sam says, mainly because he can't think of anything else to say. It feels
like something warm is trying to crawl up the walls of his stomach and he knows
the way his face heats up means he's blushing. Dean huffs a little laugh before
Sam can figure out the right way to answer and presses his lips, quick and dry
and soft, against Sam's.
"It'll feel really good, I promise." Dean does that nuzzle thing with his nose
again that makes Sam think of his mom's new cat, Boots. It's kind of weird to
think about Dean as a cat, and it makes him giggle stupidly, some of that
strange twisty feeling inside of him bubbling out.
Dean laughs too, and he sounds almost as nervous as Sam. He wraps his arm
around Sam's waist though and pulls him in so their hips are touching. "C'mon,
just try it," Dean murmurs, tilting his head to the side and arching his neck
up close to Sam's mouth.
Sam’s pulse is hammering in his chest, his ears, and it seems even harder to
breathe all of a sudden. It felt freaky and kind of maybe good when Dean kissed
his skin and he wonders if it feels the same way to be the one doing it. He
kind of wants to find out, but that voice in his head that sounds a lot like
his mom keeps trying to tell him that if he's not supposed to tell anybody
about it, then he probably shouldn't be doing it. But then Dean's fingers slip
into the hair at the back of his neck and pull him forward a little bit and
Sam's lips are pressed against warm, smooth skin.
He's already pretty much doing it anyway, so there's no point in backing out
now, especially not when it'll probably just make Dean mad and go back to not
wanting to hang out with Sam. Maybe this is something Dean does all the time
with his friends and Sam's just too much of a kid to know it's not a big deal.
He purses his lips a little bit and it makes a quiet kissy noise against Dean's
neck. Dean makes a deep hum in his throat and pulls Sam's head in closer so he
does it again, trying to remember how Dean moved last night.
Opening his mouth over the skin makes Dean moan and Sam pretty much stops
breathing altogether mostly because his lungs forgot how to work. Licking is
good too, apparently, and it feels cool; Dean's muscles and gaspy breaths
moving underneath Sam's tongue. He likes the licking part, Sam decides, so he
does a lot more of that, get's kind of lost in it until Dean turns his head to
mutter "Suck," urgently into Sam's ear.
It takes Sam a minute to figure out how to actually suck on something flat like
Dean’s body, but he finally manages to get his mouth pressed tight over the
muscle between Dean's neck and shoulder while the older boy hisses and whimpers
and keeps Sam's head in place with a tight grip on his hair. Dean whispers
things too, right against Sam's ear; 'yes'es and 'please'es and 'Sammy' a whole
lot. The words tickle, Dean's breath close and soft and it all makes that
crawly thing in Sam's stomach struggle harder.
There's a hint of a taste on his tongue that's a lot like blood and he'd pull
away just to make sure everything's ok except Dean's not letting him move an
inch, his hand locking Sam's head in place, so he keeps right on licking and
sucking at the little spot his mouth has heated up.
He didn't notice that he'd braced his hands on Dean's thighs until Dean started
dragging one of them further up, over the jut of his zipper. The fabric's
really warm there and feels weird and it takes a second for Sam to figure out
that that's Dean's penis he's feeling. He knows guys get hard - again, not a
dumb-butt - but he's never actually felt it before and it's all kinds of
strange to think that the softness between his own legs could ever feel like
that.
Dean seems happy to have Sam's hand there - seems pretty happy with everything
Sam's doing, actually - and presses his free hand down harder on top of Sam's,
rolls it and rocks up with his hips so Sam can feel his hard dick moving
underneath the denim. Dean makes a high, whining noise, his head tossed back
and he breathes 'yeah, yeah, yeah' just before his whole body trembles, his arm
tightening up and mushing Sam's face hard against him. The bulge under Sam's
palm twitches and gets even warmer and a little bit damp like Dean’s been
sweating a lot, but Sam's almost positive that's come. He's never done that
either, but he's heard about it and he kind of wishes he could see better to
tell if it looks like as much fun as everybody says it is.
Dean's panting and shaky when he finally lets Sam go, keeping him close with
his legs hooked around the back of Sam's. Mostly he just looks like he ran a
really long way, sweaty and flushed and unable to catch his breath, none of
which sounds very fun at all to Sam. But then he's also grinning like a dope,
slumped back against the mossy brick wall of the house, so maybe it was fun
after all.
The spot Sam was sucking on looks really bad; way worse than the mark Dean put
on Sam's chest. It's a lot redder and the edges are really sharp and it looks a
lot like that time Austin Gazel stuck the hose of his mom's vacuum cleaner to
his arm and turned it on to see what would happen - Sam thinks there's
something wrong with Austin Gazel. Then again, maybe there's something wrong
with Dean too, because he seems to like the spot just as much as he liked the
one on Sam, fingering over it slowly.
A minute or two passes before Dean stops looking all hazy and finally scoots
over a little bit on the crate, jerking his head in what Sam takes as an
invitation to sit down. The cellophane crinkles when Dean offers him another
gummi worm, letting Sam get his own this time instead of eating it out of
Dean's fingers.
"So, um… That was okay, right?" Dean asks, nudging his knee against Sam's but
not meeting his eyes. Sam chews his candy thoughtfully before he eventually
nods. He's not exactly sure what THAT was, but he feels okay about it, so he
guesses it's nothing too bad. Dean heaves a sigh that sounds a lot like relief
and slumps against the wall.
They're quiet like that for a long while, just sitting together, and even with
Dean's fingers playing with Sam's like he's thinking about holding Sam's hand,
it still feels more normal than anything has since last night.
"Do you miss her?" Dean murmurs, so quietly that Sam might not have heard it if
they weren't pressed up against each other on the crate. Sam doesn't have to
ask who he means.
"She says her and dad need a break," he shrugs, turning his hand a little
against Dean's so their palms cup together. "I think they're getting divorced."
Sam hasn't said that out loud before; thought it a lot, sure, but never really
said it because it would just make Dad upset and Sam doesn't exactly have a lot
of people to talk to otherwise. His chest feels lighter now that it's out.
"Are you gonna go stay with her?" Dean asks, watching his fingers slide in and
out between Sam's, never quite lacing.
"Nah. I like it here. Plus, you know, school and stuff." He doesn't mention how
he'd worry too much about his dad; how he's terrified of the idea of his father
turning into someone like Dean's dad without Sam around to keep him going. He
thinks Dean gets it anyway.
He hears Dean swallow heavily and very carefully doesn't look up at the older
boys face, just in case he's crying or something. He's seen Dean cry, a lot
more times than Dean probably knows, from when Sam sometimes sneaks around and
follows him. It always makes Sam sad too.
"You'd tell me though. If you left. You wouldn't just not be here anymore,
right?" Dean's fingers tickle against Sam's palm and he stretches his hand out
wide to cure the itchy tingle.
"'M not gonna leave. But yeah, I'd tell you." It feels like a promise; even
moreso when Dean finally slips his fingers between Sam's and holds tight.
"Cool," Dean says softly. And when he gives Sam a gentle kiss on the cheek, Sam
decides maybe he likes the fluttery feeling; it's not going away any time soon.
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