His name was Aaron. He was a tiny thing; you'd swear he would fit in the palm of your hand. And he was hairy- incredibly hairy. Dad had taken Sammy into the gas station to use the bathroom. Dean calculated in his head. He'd have, at most, five minutes alone with Aaron. He stared out the window until they were inside the store. Then Dean went at it. He embraced Aaron with loving arms and kissed his face. "You're so cute. Don't ever leave me," he cooed.
Just then, the door was thrown open. "Dad forgot his-" Sammy stopped mid-sentence. "Deeeean, what are you doing?"
"Nothing!" Dean shoved the poor thing away from him. "If you're looking for Dad's wallet, it's in the trunk."
"Okay. Oh, and dad says that after this, we're going to drop the puppy off at that place on his collar. Then we're getting ice cream!" Sammy skipped off happily.
1985 was a productive year for Dean. He turned sixteen. He could (legally) drive. He developed a taste for beer and cigarettes, the latter of which his father was none too happy about. Smoking was expensive. Smoking stunk up the car. Smoking provided a scent trail for demons to follow. Nevertheless, Dean managed to sneak a couple every week. Sam knew, but kept his mouth shut. The good feeling of doing the right thing paled next to the threat of a good whomping.
One Thursday, in a particularly pathetic town in Tennessee, Dean just really, really needed a damn cigarette. He hadn't slept for two days. They were on the trail of something evil that had a penchant for giving nasty cuts that probably required stitches but would have to make due with butterfly bandages and antiseptic. Dad made a rare pit stop at a crappy Greek diner. Sammy had begun to cry out in hunger pains, and there is nothing more annoying than the complaints of a whiny preteen. Dean dropped Sam and Dad off in front of the diner and went to find a parking place. The place was packed. Apparently the locals had a taste for brunch. Dean finally found a spot towards the back and parked the car. He spotted a bored-looking, pimply teenager by the side of the building, smoking.
"Hey, can I bum a smoke?" Dean approached the boy.
"There's only one left." The boy blew smoke in Dean's face. "Why would I waste it on you?"
"Because I really need a fucking cigarette. Because I'll give you five dollars for it."
"Five dollars?" The boy's face lit up.
"Yeah." Dean fished through his pocket. He came up with thirty-two cents and a rubber band. "Well, maybe not."
"Too bad." The boy scoffed. "How 'bout you kiss me for it?"
"What?" Dean was shocked.
"You're pretty." The boy shrugged. "Just a peck on the cheek, and I'll give you my last one. I'll even light it for ya."
Damn, he really needed that cigarette. And God knows when his next chance to have one would be. Dean didn't have a choice. He closed his eyes and leaned towards the boy.
"Dean, are you coming? We got a seat and-" Sam stopped, bug-eyed.
Dean glared at the boy. "Yeah, and if you ever insult my mom like that again, I'll mess you up good! C'mon Sam, let's get away from this guy. He's bad news."
Dean walked into the diner without his smoke, cheeks burning.
Dad had been gone for a week and had taken the car with him. Dean and Sam were stuck in a shitty motel in Ashland, Kentucky, the kind with no pool and the option to rent by the hour. Dean was seventeen. Years on the road had given him a weathered look and he had no trouble being admitted to any of the local bars to hustle pool. However, there are only so many times you can hit up a bar before people become suspicious. Money was running low, and it wouldn't be long before they'd be eating Ramen and sleeping in a park.
It was ten o' clock on a Saturday night. Sam was watching reruns of unfunny sitcoms on television and yawning. Dean came barging into the room.
"Sam, run down to the drugstore and pick me up some aspirin. My head is about to explode." Dean picked Sam up and shoved him towards the door.
"But the drug store is a mile away! It'll take me an hour!"
"Come on. I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."
"We don't have enough money for ice cream."
"We will. Trust me. Seriously, dude, I need that aspirin. Get the cheap stuff. Here's three dollars." Sam was shoved out the door.
Thirty minutes later, Sam arrived back at the motel, completely exhausted, with a bottle of aspirin and seventy-five cents. He let himself into the room and was surprised to see his brother shirtless, and making out with a fat, sweaty man. Before he could stop himself, he screamed.
"Shut up, you little shit! Do you want to wake up the whole place? Jim was just leaving. Go in the bathroom and brush your teeth or something."
Sam followed his brother's orders, not saying a word. Three minutes passed, agonizingly slow. Finally, Dean knocked on the bathroom door.
"Sam, I'm so sorry. Tomorrow, we're moving to a nicer hotel. It's got a pool! And I'll get you ice cream. We can even go out for burgers if you want."
Sam opened the door a crack.
"Where'd you get the money?"
Dean paused and stared at his brother.
"Go to bed. It's late."
Sam went to college because he loved books. He loved to learn. Dean visited Sam at college because he loved to party. College parties were the best; everyone was there to get drunk and laid. None of this relationship bullshit, it was pure sex. Dean would visit Sam once a year, in September when the freshmen were still naïve and threw the most ridiculous, out of control parties.
September of Sam's junior year was the craziest party Dean had ever been to. He arrived an hour after it started, and already there were people puking in the front lawn and running around partially naked. He took more shots than he could remember and tried E. He made a damn fool of himself, but he didn't care. It's not like he'd ever see these people again.
He ended up back in Sam's dorm with some guy named Matt. They had ripped all their clothes off and were making out on the couch. His heart was beating faster than he had ever thought possible and every beat throbbed in his ears. He had never done anything like this before. This was bad, it was wrong, it was what he needed.
Dean pushed all thoughts of guilt to the back of his mind, only focusing on his need for more. Matt was young, at least five years younger than Dean. His body was pale and skinny and perfect. Dean was leading a trail of kisses down Matt's abdomen.
Sam woke to the sound of moaning. He rolled over and saw his brother, naked, biting the neck of the quiet guy in his Ethics class. He put the pillow over his ears and tried to get back to sleep.
"Don't leave me," Sam whispered. "Don't ever leave me. I need you." He stared at the photo, taken three months ago. In it, they were at gates of Graceland, making goofy Elvis sneers. He kissed it silently and put it under his pillow.
"Are you talking to that damn photo again?" Dean came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "Why do you care so much about a photo when you've got the real thing?" He gave Sam a peck on the lips. "Now go to bed. It's late. We're going to try and find those vampires in the morning."