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The back lot of the property their Dad was renting was an overgrown field and Sam used it to his advantage. He was still fourteen and yet he was only a year away from graduation. It was overwhelming at times and he knew he'd have to be making some serious decisions at some point in the very near future, so any chance he had to escape he took. He'd bought weed from one of his classmates, the go to guy for drugs, and he'd done his damndest to make sure that Dean would never find out. The back lot played into that plan well. The tall grass shielded him from view of the house, and the only way anyone would be able to see him would be if they were standing directly over him.
Lighting up the joint with the zippo he'd stolen out of Dad's coat pocket the last time he left he watched as the tip glowed red before bringing it to his lips and taking a drag. Holding the smoke in his mouth, he inhaled slowly, giving his lungs time to adjust to the burn he knew was coming. After a moment he exhaled and watched as the smoke curled away from him in lazy clouds. Closing his eyes, he leaned back on one elbow and took another hit. When he released it from his lungs he could feel a low buzz moving through his limbs. It made him feel heavy and slightly tired. The guy hadn't been lying when he said it was good shit, cause it really was.
He lay back with his head against his bag, and while there was the corner of a text book digging into the back of this neck he couldn't bring himself to care. He was relaxed for what felt like the first time in months and he wasn't going to do anything to fuck that up. Staring up at the sky, he rolled what remained of the joint between his fingers and hummed softly to himself.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that Sam missed the sound of approaching footsteps, and he didn't realize that there was someone calling his name until they were almost right on top of him.
"Sammy, what the hell are you doing out here?" Dean sounded pissed, and he probably hadn't even seen the damn joint in his hand yet.
"Taking a break." He slurred in response.
Dean let out a low growl. "Taking a break from what?"
Snorting, Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that if he did the world would probably not stop spinning for the foreseeable future. "Life."
"Dude, you're fourteen and you're taking a break with pot? Dad would so kill you if he found out."
"Dude, I'm fourteen and I'm graduating in a year. Give me back the lighter."
Dropping down into the grass beside him, Dean leaned into his shoulder. "That's what this is about?" He asked.
"No, it's not about that at all. It's about the other kid who's been in high school since he was twelve and has basically been crowned King of the Freaks by everyone in the damn school. And no, it's not just this school, it's every single one we have ever gone to since that stupid testing. Fuck."
Dean reached out and grabbed the joint from between Sam's surprisingly lax fingers. "Jesus, bitter much?"
"What do you think?" Head rolling limply to the side Sam watched as his brother lit joint back up before taking a hit off it himself. "Also, hypocrite much?"
"Hey, I said Dad would kill you, I didn't say that I was gonna tell him. Think I'm that dumb?" He looked down at Sam and shook his head. "And you're not allowed to answer that."
Sam sighed and closed his eyes. He could hear his brother breathing next to him and occasionally the sound of crackling filled the silence. He soaked up the sun as it shone down on him and the warmth was soothing, made him feel lighter.
There was rustling beside him and something was pressed to his lips. He attempted to open his eyes, but the brightness caused him to clench them shut again.
"Relax, idiot. Just inhale" Dean's voice was soft in his ear. He automatically followed his brother's instructions and once he'd pulled in a lungful of smoke, Dean was pulling the joint away from his mouth. He held his breath for as long as possible before letting his chest fall, smoke drifting away into the sky.
Flopping an arm out to the side he drummed his fingers against the side of Dean's thigh. "Thanks."
"No problem, brat."
Opening his eyes, Sam attempted to glare at his brother, but he knew it came out wrong when his brother's response was to laugh. "Shut up." He whined. Dean only shrugged.
They remained as they were for some time, neither willing to do anymore than was absolutely necessary. It was Dean who made the first move though.
Watching as his brother put the joint out against the sole of his boot, he recognized the same lethargy he felt in Dean's slow movements and he wasn't surprised when he flashed him a sleepy smile.
"Come on." Tugging on Sam's arm, Dean yawned widely as he flopped onto his back and Sam followed him. He curled up against his brother's side with his head resting against his chest and threw an arm across his stomach. He and Dean had sort of pulled apart after he was shoved ahead in school, but he didn't want that. There was a lot that he didn't want, but then again, there was a lot that he did want and that was the problem. Somewhere along the line brotherly love abandoned all semblance of brotherly and had transformed into love. Just love, plain and simple. It wasn't enough for him to be a freak with a huge brain, he had to go and fall for his brother too. The whole damn thing made him want to throw things around and scream and cry. Watching Dean chase after anything in a skirt hurt, and the only thing he could do was pull away.
Pushing himself up so that he was leaning over Dean's chest, he kept his eyes lowered. Yeah he was pretty damn stoned, but even being stoned wasn't enough to kill his nerves. He had to do it, he had to.
"Sammy?" Voice soft, Dean slid a hand up his arm and rest it on his shoulder.
Taking a breath he flexed his fingers in the material of his brother's shirt and focused on the sensation. Closing the distance between them, Sam closed his eyes as he pressed his mouth to Dean's in a soft kiss. When he pulled back he felt his brother's lips part and a nearly soundless sigh escaped. The hand on his shoulder didn't shift and Dean didn't move so when he opened his eyes, he found that he was being watched. But there was nothing like what he had expected to see reflected in his brother's eyes. He had expected disgust and anger, maybe pity thrown in to mix things up, but there was no trace of any of that there. Instead there was tired affection shining through, and acceptance too.
"Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, unable to censor himself.
Dean laughed softly. "Because there's nothing to freak out about."
Confused, Sam frowned and attempted to find something else to say, but before he could even begin to gather his thoughts the hand on his shoulder was moving up to cup the back of his head and he was being pulled forward. Lips meeting with Dean's once more, he froze, mind struggling to grasp exactly what was happening. And then he felt his brother's lips parting beneath his own, the tip of his tongue tracing along the seam of his mouth.
Letting out a soft gasp, he clutched at his brother's shirt tightly. Dean's tongue flicked into his mouth, a delicate press against the roof of his mouth before he was pulling back, teeth nipping at his lower lip before releasing the pressure on Sam's head.
"Oh," he breathed.
Smiling, Dean tangled his fingers in the back of Sam's hair. "Yeah, oh."
"Wow." Eyes wide, Sam shifted closer in the grass, unable to think.
Dean laughed and wrapped his arms around Sam, causing him to collapse against his chest. Then they were flipping over in the grass so that Sam found himself looking up at his brother, startled at the change of positions.
"You okay with this?" Dean asked lowly.
Sam swallowed hard and nodded, his hands coming to rest on Dean's biceps. "I'm great." He finally breathed in a shaky voice.
"Good." Lips twisting up a half smile, Dean ducked his head down and captured Sam's mouth in another kiss. It was slow and sweet, everything he had ever dreamt of and then more. He'd seen his brother with those girls, and he'd never treated any of them the way that he was treating him now. The entire situation was surreal as all hell, but he wasn't about to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth.
Then he felt his brother shift back and away from him, but he wasn't about to let that happen. moving his arms up so that they were wrapped around his shoulders, he kept Dean close, chasing after his lips as he tried to lift his head.
"Stay." He begged. "Please don't go."
Dean leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Sam's. "I'm not going anywhere, Sammy. Just getting more comfortable."
Sam felt his cheeks flush. The initial buzz of his high wearing off. The world was slowly becoming sharper, and that meant that everything that was going on was actually starting to really sink in.
"You okay?" Dean asked.
Nodding, Sam tilt his chin up so he could kiss Dean once more. "I'm fine." He assured him. "More than."
Dean smiled and Sam watched as he pushed himself up above him. "Glad to hear it." He dropped to the side so that he was no longer flat above him, and then his hands were moving him so that they were both on their sides, facing each other. Their eyes met and Sam couldn't keep the grin from his face. He moved closer, tangling their legs together before Dean was sliding an arm under his shoulders and pressing him closer with one warm hand.
The wind rustled the grass around them and there were cicadas singing in the distance but to Sam the world seemed smaller somehow, less crowded. Simpler. Slipping a hand under the hem of Dean's shirt, he stroked his fingers across the small of his back and felt the sweat beading up there. Dean reciprocated the motion, slipping his arm around him and dragging his blunted nails against the back of his neck. Sam shivered and his eyes fluttered shut. Dean was the one person in the world who made him feel like something other than a giant freak, and somehow as fucked up as he knew this whole thing was it was grounding. Reassuring.
Dean wrapped his arms around him tightly and buried his face in his neck. "I love you, you know that? I know I don't say it, but I do."
"I know you do." Sam's voice was muffled. "I know, I promise." And he did know. Dean was always there, he'd always been there and he always would be there, and while he never actually said the words it was in every last thing he did.