Sam, leaning back against the cold metal headboard, flicks through the channels with the remote. There's nothing remotely watchable on. Dean's sitting at the small table in the dark musty motel room, twirling an empty beer bottle on the table's cluttered surface. They're both bored out of their minds.
Dean watches the brown glass bottle spin in a quick circle on its side, and his face lights up in a grin.
"Hey Sammy, want to play a game?"
Oh no.
"What game, Dean?" Sam asks warily. He doesn't like that grin - it's a sure sign of trouble. Always has been.
"Truth or Dare."
"Truth or Dare? What are we, twelve?" Sam tries to sound uninterested, but Dean sees right through him. He sees his jaw tighten and his heavy, puppy-dog eyes flick up, almost too quick to see.
The brothers had only recently begun giving in to the intense, twisted urges that they both shared. It only started a month or two ago, but it had been building for years. One night, when they were both very drunk, and, yes, again, very bored, Dean climbed on top of Sam and furiously jerked him off after noticing his hard-on when Dean had come out from taking a shower, wearing only a towel. Each time they gave into it, it was always rough, hard, and messy. Neither one of them allowing themselves to think about it too much. They would just get each other off, as fast and ruthlessly as possible, and then clean up and pretend it hadn't happened. They'd never even kissed. There'd been some biting, but Sam's pretty sure that doesn't count.
The whole situation is something they'd been willfully ignoring for weeks, like a demon sitting in the corner that they both liked to ignore until it jumped up and bit them on the ass.
But this wasn't a hunt, or something they needed to fix. This was whole new territory. And now Dean wanted to play games.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"What, are you scared little brother?"
"Fine, I'll play your stupid game," he mutters sulkily, turning off the TV. "What are the rules?"
Dean smirks, savoring his win. "Only one rule. If you refuse to answer or take a dare, the questioner gets a freebie. And you have to do the freebie, no matter what it is."
"Who goes first?"
"I go first. My idea." Dean leans back in his seat, hands on his thighs, and asks, "Truth or Dare, Sammy?"
"Dare."
"Okay, um..." Dean's eyes seep the room. "Alright. See that ugly-ass painting over the TV? I dare you to hit that little fishing boat in the background with your pocket knife from where you're sitting."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"That's weak Dean."
Sam takes the knife from his back pocket, opens it, throws it, hitting the mark dead-on from about 25 feet away.
"My turn. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
Sam's eyes sweep the room, until they settle on what he was looking for. He walks over to the unopened, warm beer, pops it open on his belt, and takes a big swig. He rolls it around in his mouth, not swallowing, and then spits it back into the bottle. Then he just spits some extra saliva into the beer - you know, for that extra kick. He swirls it around and hands it to Dean.
"I dare you to drink that. The whole thing."
"Seriously?" Dean makes a face, like he bit a lemon, and then squeezes his eyes shut as he throws it back, chugging the liquid as fast as he can until it's gone.
He slams it back onto the table, glaring at Sam.
"Pretty gross dude. Okay, truth or dare."
"Truth."
"Hmm...okay." Dean thinks for a minute, and then smiles as he asks, "How old were you when you lost your virginity? I could never get you to tell me that."
Sam looks down at his hands, saying nothing.
"What? Is it that embarrassing? Were you, like in college? Are you still a virgin? What?"
"Twelve."
"I'm sorry, I must have heard you wrong. It sounded like you just said you were twelve when you first got laid."
"I was Dean. I was twelve."
"Jesus fucking Christ Sam! What happened?!"
"That wasn't your question, Dean. I answered your question, and now it's my turn. Truth or Dare?"
Dean looks furious, like he'd like to put his fist through the wall. Sam can tell he's blaming himself for allowing that to happen to Sam when he was so young.
"Truth or Dare, Dean?"
"Truth."
"Have you ever had sex with a man?"
Dean's gazes flickers quickly away from Sam. For just a moment. "Yes. I have."
Sam watches him, as Dean watches for a reaction. He doesn't get one.
"Truth or Dare?" he asks, when he realizes Sam's not going to comment.
"Dare."
"I dare you to tell me about what happened when you lost your virginity. All the details."
"That's not fair."
"Not against the rules, is it?"
"I'm not answering that. I refuse."
"God, what is the big deal, here Sam? What are you not telling me?" Dean sighs, looking at him closely. "Fine. I get a freebie...was it consensual? Sam? Sam?! Answer the motherfucking question!" Dean roars at him.
Sam calmly holds Dean's eyes, and says, simply, "No."
Dean's face twists in pain, and he gasps, like he's been stabbed in the gut. He falls backwards out of his chair, and then he really does go and punch the wall. Hard enough to split the skin on his knuckles. He presses his forehead into the faded wallpaper and yells, roughly, in frustration. Then he's coming at Sam. Crawls up the bed on top of him, and burying his face in Sam's neck, holds on tight. Sam lazily strokes the back of Dean's head, feeling the soft, short hair. Dean twists his hands in Sam's shirt, whining deep in his chest, like his heart is breaking.
"Dean, it's not your fault. It happened a long time ago, and there's nothing you could have done to prevent it or make it better. I knew how much in would upset you, and I knew you'd probably go kill the guy for it, so I didn't tell you. I wanted to never have to tell you. I'm fine. We moved again right after it happened and I never saw him again."
Sam holds him until his breathing steadies, and the sobs have disappeared.
After they've been lying there like that for a while, Sam asks, "Truth or Dare, Dean?"
"I don't want to play anymore."
"Hey, you don't get to quit now. Truth or Dare?"
"Fine. Dare."
"I dare you to let me pick the music in the car for the next month."
Dean props himself up on his elbows, looking down at Sam like he's insane. "No way! No freaking way Sam."
Sam smiles, "Okay, then I get a freebie. I dare you to let me kiss you."
He rolls them both over, so that Sam's on top, and Dean's trapped underneath his larger frame.
Sam chuckles, deep and low in his chest, "You look scared Dean. It's just a kiss."
He leans down and very softly touches his lips to Dean's. He closes his lips around first the top lip and then Dean's full bottom lip. He runs the tip of his tongue along the crease that falls in the middle of Dean's bottom lip. The older man opens his mouth to speak, his eyes wide as he looks up at Sam, perhaps to ask what the hell he's doing, but Sam silences him by sealing their mouths together, effectively swallowing his words. Sam's tongue dips down into Dean, tasting him for the first time. The kiss is gentle but deep, unrelenting, and filled with emotion. This isn't screwing around and getting off, which is all they'd ever done before. No, this was Sam showing Dean how much he loved him. And, at first, it scares Dean stiff. He's like stone, muscles knotted from his jaw all the way to his toes, which are curled tight. But when Sam starts to trail kisses along Dean's jaw, settling on the spot on his neck below his ear, he feels the tension melt away. Dean moans, arching up into him, twisting his hands in Sam's long hair. Sam pulls away, and Dean actually whimpers in protest.
"Your turn," breathes Sam, smiling a little at the pure want painted on his brother's face.
"Truth or Dare?" Dean asks, voice rough and low.
"Dare," smiles Sam, inches away, pressing down into Dean.
"I dare you to keep going."
"Thought you'd never ask."
END