Disclaimer: Don't own SPN
On the 4th of July, 1996, Sam kissed him for the first time. As the firework display blasted above them, little Sam gripped his leather jacket, his eyes glowing with love and determination, and pulling Dean. Dean didn't know whether he was falling or Sam had an amazing power of strength somehow. Licking a swipe across Dean's open, shocked mouth before sealing their lips together, Sam's hands moved to cup Dean's cheek in a tender but possessive motion. Dean's own hands attaching themselves to the soft material of Sam's blue hoodie - safety - letting go and allowing Sam. Like he always did. The warm, galvanising heat of Sam's open and inviting mouth nearly sent Dean groaning. His little brother tasted of chocolate shake, the taste of jail bait. All the love he had for Sam since the boy was born and no dad to remind him how much of a sick boy it made him.
On the 30th September, 2002, Sam left him to go to Stanford and kissed him for the last time. After a row with dad, Sam stormed into their bedroom, cradling Dean's jaw, pushing him against the wall and kissing him with brutal force. Dean entwined his hands in Sam's thick locks, holding him close, it all building up inside him that this was the last time he'd see Sam. His little brother slid his hands underneath Dean's top, Dean arching to the touch and splaying his legs to accommodate for the teenager he now had between him. Since Sam was small he'd had a power over Dean, Dean crumbling under the puppy eyes or the lick of lips. Dean missed the admission of sorry, the iloveyou, he just felt the desire and passion they shared. When the bedroom closed, leaving Dean alone, the words sick boy reverberated over in his mind.
He would never have this again. Never see that heat in Sam's eyes, especially not aimed at him. Everyone else, but him.