Dean pushed the Impala as fast as it could go. The wind whipped in through the windows, Metallica blasted out of the radio. Sam had one hand braced to the door handle and the other on the dashboard. Just as the bend in the road came into view, Dean slowed the car. It barely slowed at first, then all at once. Sam was glad he had his hand on the dashboard, because he was sure that the jolt the car gave as it stopped would have landed him a bloody nose with his face against the dash.
"You okay there, Princess?" Dean asked coolly. Sam's heart was racing about as fast as the Impala had been going.
"Yeah," Sam said, "Yeah I'm fine. Where the hell are we anyways?"
Dean let out a small laugh. "We ain't there yet."
"Well, where are we going then?"
"You'll see when we get there."
Sam groaned. Dean shifted the Impala back into gear and they were off again, this time slower, but still fast enough to do damage. After about a half hour Sam broke again.
"So...," he began, "Are we there yet?"
Dean slammed on the brakes. This time Sam almost did hit the dashboard.
"Yep," Dean said with a sideways grin. He pulled the car off into an empty field. He parked the sleek, black car in the middle of it. Dean patted Sam on the arm and motioned for him to get out of the car. They both bailed out. Dean went the the trunk off the car and pulled out a cooler. He met Sam at the front of the car. Dean pulled two beers out of the cooler and opened them, climbing onto the hood to join Sam.
"I'm 19, I'm underage," Sam said. "I can't drink."
"Just take the damn thing," Dean said shoving the beer into Sam's hand. "We don't have to tell your parents." Dean gave a weak smile.
"Whatever," Sam said darkly.
"Dude, I'm sorry," Dean said. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, it's fine. Forget about it. Your parents are just as bad... If not worse."
"Huh, yeah," Dean huffed out, taking a pull from his beer. His beer was halfway gone while Sam had barely touched his. They were both silent for a moment.
"So why did you drag me out here again?" Sam asked, breaking the silence.
Dean pointed to the sky with a smirk. Sam was momentarily confused. Then he looked up. In the sky were thousands of stars. Constellations he had learned in school flickered bright against the dark sky above his head. The full moon hung high in the sky, drowning the space around Sam and Dean in a dull, shadowed moonlight.
"Oh," Sam said. "That's why."
The two sat in silence and stared up at the sky while the night wind blew through their hair. It rustled through the long grasses around Sam's feet. An overwhelming sense of peace enveloped him, burning deep in his gut. It made Sam want to cry, he was so at peace. He hadn't felt like this since before he came out.
"You alright, Princess?"
"What?" Sam choked out. His voice was thick and his tongue was heavy in his mouth. "I'm fine. I just... I haven't felt this at ease for a long, long time."
Dean was quiet for a moment. Then, he set his bottle on the ground and moved closer to Sam so that their thighs and shoulders met. The shorter man moved one arm to snake around the taller man, laying his hand on Sam's hip bone. Sam rested his head on Dean's shoulder and pressed himself into the other man.
Not soon after that Dean moved the duo into the back seat of the car. Dean, being the older one, sat with his back pressed to the door of the car with Sam's back pressed against his chest, head laid on Dean's shoulder.
"I got you, baby," Dean whispered into Sam's ear. "I got you. Don't worry, no ones gonna get you."
Soon enough, Dean felt Sam's back start to heave against his chest, his breath start to hitch. Sam shifted around until he was seated in Dean's lap and had the front of Dean's shirt balled up in his fists. The tears fell heavy from Sam's face and landed hard on Dean's neck and shoulder.
"I know, I know," Dean said soothingly to Sam, running his hand up and down his back.
"They'll never understand!" Sam's yell was muffled by the skin of Dean's neck against his mouth. "They'll never understand what it's like being ridiculed by them. All they ever do is yell at me, and hate me, and call me a fag. They don't understand, Dean! They'll never understand what it's like to be hated by your own parents! They'll never understand!"
"I know, baby, I know what it's like, remember?" Dean's voice was on the edge of breaking, not from thinking about his parents, but seeing the damage Sam's parents have done to him. "My parents are assholes, too. I know what it's like to feel like you do. But hey, guess what?"
"What?"
"You're 19 now. You don't have to listen to your parents any more. You can move out whenever you feel like it."
"Where the hell would I go Dean?" Sam asked annoyed. "Where the fuck would I go, huh? I don't have anyone but you and my parents."
"I'm sure we could find somewhere that we could stay."
Sam was sitting up now, straddling Dean's thighs with his calfs. "Fine," was all Sam breathed out before he pulled Dean into a kiss. Dean leaned his head to the side to give Sam a better angle to work at. The taller man ran his tongue across Dean's bottom lip; Dean opened up. Sam tasted like salt and alcohol against Dean's mouth.
Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and pushed him back until Sam's back laid flat on the leather seat. Dean kissed down his neck, sucking and biting all the way to Sam's collar bone. He lapped at the red mark forming on Sam's neck. Deep breaths made Sam's chest rise and press on Dean's. Sitting back on Sam's legs, Dean pulled off his layers, leaving his chest exposed. Then, he worked at the buttons on Sam's plaid shirt. Dean pulled it off Sam's shoulders and threw it on the floor of the Impala along with his clothes. The light haired man leaned down and attacked the others lips with his own. The kiss was more teeth and tongue than lips.
Sam thrust his hips into Deans at the lack of friction there. Dean pulled back and looked Sam in the eyes. He saw the younger man's face open up with emotion. Fear and pain pulled at Sam's eyes while his jaw was set in confidence. The older man saw fight in hazel eyes and went to work. Dean sat on Sam's legs again, eliciting a groan from Sam. The green eyed man worked at the others pants, pulling his boots, socks, and pants off. Dean pulled off his own boots and pants, discarding them on the floor. Sam pulled Dean back down by his shoulders, crashing their mouths together.
The sweat from Sam's back began to slick his body and the seat of the Impala. Dean noticed and ran his tongue along the curve of Sam's exposed neck. Friction built up between the two, and the need was almost unbearable. Sam let go of Dean's shoulders and reached down to palm himself through his boxers. The added friction caused Sam to whine into Dean's shoulder. Dean reached down and removed Sam's hand, pulling down the latter's boxers. Now released, Sam's hard, hot length pushed into Dean's hip. Dean's eyes fluttered closed as he breathed in the sensation like it was his last breath. His eyes shot open when he felt hands pawing at his own boxer shorts. Green eyes met hazel and the rest happened easily.
Sam pulled off Dean's boxers and threw them with his into the mess of clothes at their side. Dean slotted his erection next to Sam's and began, slowly, to push his hips against Sam's.
"Please," Sam choked out. His voice was wrecked from holding in sobs and moans. "Please."
Dean obliged. He reached over into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a bottle of lube. It made a pop noise as Dean opened it and proceeded to slick his fingers. The lube felt cold against Sam's entrance as Dean circled it with his finger. The slick substance dripped off of Sam and landed on the leather beneath him.
Sam's breath came out in pants. Dean leaned down and ghosted his lips over Sam's sweat slicked collar bone. He felt the taller man's breath in his hair.
"You like that, Sam?" Dean whispered into his neck.
"Y-yes," Sam ground out. "More." Dean chuckled darkly.
"So needy," Dean said, shoving his index finger into Sam. The younger man let out a gasp that was quickly swallowed by Dean's lips. As Dean slipped his tongue into Sam's mouth, he slid another finger into the tight hole. He thrust in and out with his fingers, curling them slightly as he pulled them out to the first knuckle. After a few more thrusts, Dean started to scissor his fingers inside Sam. Sam writhed under the sensation, coiled with every touch of Dean's fingers inside him and hand over his skin.
"Fuck," Sam said under his breath. "More, Dean, more."
Dean pulled his mouth away from Sam's neck. His fingers pulled out and were replaced his cock as he guided it in. Sam let out a gasp as Dean penetrated him, thick and long.
"Mmhh," Dean whined. "So tight, baby boy. Yeah, yeah." Dean pulled out and thrust in, hard, over and over. His balls bounced against Sam's ass with every shove. More lube was applied as the friction built up. Sam felt felt heat growing low in his stomach as Dean's stomach brushed over his strained cock. He could tell he was close.
"Dean," Sam groaned. "'M close."
"I know," Dean mumbled. "Wanna watch you come, watch you make a mess all over yourself." That was all Sam could take. That simple statement out of Dean's mouth sent him over the edge.
"Dean!" Sam cried as he came, hot across his own stomach and chest.
"Sonovabitch," Dean muttered under his breath, releasing his seed in Sam. This was only the second time the two of them had done this, but the feeling of Dean's warm cum inside of him still made Sam shudder. The experience was always so alien, yet so familiar to Sam.
Dean pulled out and reached to his left for a discarded T-shirt. He wiped himself and Sam down. What Dean didn't clean off of himself, Sam lapped up eagerly. The night bore on, slow and sweet. Sam and Dean made it two more rounds before they called it quits for the night.
"I hope your old man doesn't find this shirt," Sam said breathily as he pulled Dean tight to his chest.
"Trust me, he won't," Dean replied.
In the morning Dean pulled the Impala out of the field and tore down the back road. Since the duo had gotten dressed, Dean had held Sam's cum-stained shirt in one fist.
"Why are you holding that?" Sam asked, pointing to the T-shirt.
Dean replied by rolling down the window and throwing the shirt out.
"That's why," he said.
"That was my T-shirt, ya know," Sam laughed.
"Yeah," Dean said around a smirk, "I know."