A/N: K this is not the last chap to bed I'm working hard on that but for now there is this.
Warning: Underage Wincest but it consented. Sam is 15 in this one.
Dean teaches Sam to appreciate a good bass line.

Bass Line

Dean loves the throb of a good deep bass line. Sam didn't understand the attraction of loud fast riffing bass guitars. To him metal was just high speed noise. The sound of Metallic had filled the house off and on all day. It was a cool afternoon in late spring, dad had been gone for over a week. He was disappearing more frequently. Leaving Dean and Sam to fend for themselves for longer periods of time. Dean at 19 was more than old enough to take care of Sam, who at 15 didn't really need to be take care of.

It was a little after 5 the sun had already given way to darkness. The air was tight, heavy, a storm was coming, a big one. Even if Dean didn't show it Sam knew he was worried. It would be hard to track anything in a storm, worst with no one to watch your back. He found Dean sitting in the living room shot gun over one knee eyes focus somewhere outside the dusty window. Sam sat at Dean's feet, long legs curled under him. He is getting tall, almost taller than Dean. He saw the way his dad watched him out of the corner of his eyes when he thought Sam was focus elsewhere. It was the look all parents gave their children "growing up so fast" their dad look was always tainted with drops of sadness. Sam knew it was in moments like that his dad missed their mom the most. Sam didn't really miss her. He never really knew her. He loved her from the memory he built from the stories Dean told him, it was more a love for Dean than the women he only met in dreams.

Dad had never looked at Dean with those longing " he's get so big" looks. It seem to Sam that in dad's mind Dean had crawled half grown from his mother womb as if Dean had always been a man only small and than one day he wasn't so small.

Dean hand reached out on instinct and tangled his fingers in Sam hair. He tugs lightly till Sam tiled his head back resting his head on Dean's knee. Dean smiled down at him.

"You need a hair cut Sammy."

"Sam."

Dean laughs and tugs harder. Sam knows his job is done. Sometimes it wasn't that easy bringing Dean back. Sometime he got lost in his thoughts and ignored everything else in the room. He never told Sam what he thought about but Sam figure it was about Dad, with Dean everything usually went back to dad. Dean shoves him away, resting the gun on the coffee table and stood stretching, hands reaching over his head grasping for everything, his shirt rod up exposing a glimpse of tan smooth flesh. Sam looks away eyes focused on the shot gun. It was one of the new ones. Dean's gun, the one he bought with his own money, money he won hustling in pool halls. Dean steps over Sam moving for the radio. Sam didn't watch him didn't have to. He knew Dean's rhythm the way he seemed to stalk more than walk across any space. The sound of Metallica fills the room bouncing off the wall in an angry wave of shrinking bass. Sam rolls his eyes and rest his forehead against Dean vacant seat.

"Haven't you heard enough of this fucking CD."

Dean open palm came in contact with the back of Sam's head.

"Watch your fucking mouth bitch."

Sam turns to glare at his brother. "I'm going to burn the back of that fucking CD." He stress the word fucking rolling the word. Dean smacks him again. He reaches out and tugs, yanking Dean till he topples to the floor. Dean rolls away sit up and smacks Sam's arm, Sam smacks him back. Dean rolls on top of Sam knocking him backwards, he pushes up, Dean pushes down. Sam's eyes fall close he feels Dean breathing against his neck.

"You all right their Sam."

"I hate this stuff Dean I don't get why you listen to it all the fucking time."

He felt Dean's smile against his neck, shivers from the touch. No mater how many times Dean touched him like this it would never be anything but new.

"Want me to teach you to love it Sammy" Dean voice was low, breath warm he pushes up, Dean's hand was warm where it rest open against his thigh.

"Dean" his name was something pled question ...Sam didn't know what. Dean did. Dean always knew what Sam was asking. His mouth cover Sam hot open wet, Sam sigh into the kiss. It had been hours almost a day since Dean had kissed him like this, weeks since Dean held him down and touched him. Dean pulls out the kiss, mouth latching on to Sam neck, fingers moving quickly under Sam shirt, fingers moving over bruised flesh. Sam shutter under the touch. He tugs on a hand full of Dean's hair trying to drag his mouth back up, he wants to taste him, missed the taste more than the feel of his mouth. Dean smiled down at him batted Sam's hands away. Kisses him like Sam wanted till he couldn't breath and …. Dean pulls out of the kiss, lips bruised, face flushed.

"I'm going make you live this album Sammy."

He kisses him fast and hard before Sam could find his words. The kisses move on clothes where lost.

Sam twist under Dean arching giving. Dean tugs pulls yanks and bite till Sam couldn't figure out what he wanted the touch or ……. when Dean slips into him it was in one long surge. He pulls out pushes back, moving to the beat of the demanding baseline, he drove into Sam pushing deep, the bass line moved throw Sam, he arches up into………….It was over to soon Sam came seeing red and Dean followed. Than Dean was falling over him around him shifting into sleep.

When he woke up it was raining outside, the wind was howling and Dean was warped around him head rest on his shoulder, drooling and naked. Sam bites back a smile and kisses his forehead running a hand throw Dean's hair, it was getting really long, it fell into his eyes and curved along his jaw line. He likes it best this way. Dean would cut it soon. He always did when he got sick of washing it. Sam rolls over and shoves Dean off his shoulder. His brother mumbles something but didn't wake, he always sleep deep after fucking Sam. The windows shock under the force of the wind. The house itself was old, they had only been renting it for 3 months. Sam stood and slips into his jeans. Walking softly he heads to the kitchen.

Dean comes in when Sam is half way done with dinner. He gives Sam a sleepy smile and wraps himself around him, pulling Sam in for a sloppy kiss, Sam goes willing warping his arms around Dean's waist. Dean pulls him into a hug warping his arms around Sam shoulder. It was nice like this. In a few hours Dean would be back to no touchy feely but for now with dad gone, sex still heavy in his mind, Dean was his.

"What you cooking Sammy."

"Franks and beans. You hungry."

"Enough. You made enough for dad?"

"Yeah."

Dean kisses the top of his head and lets him go. Sam goes back to the pot, Dean disappears around the corner.

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John showed up early the next morning. He rode in before dawn shot gun over his shoulder, wet but unhurt. Dean helped him unload the truck. Dad had spotted a pack of werewolves he thought they should investigate the next night. Sam warm up the franks and beans. Dad gave him a warm smile and ran a hand throw his hair like he was five. Dean turned on Metallica. Sam blushed and left the room, Dean's laughter followed behind him. John gave his son a confused look but shrugged it off. Dean smiled and served his dad. They sat up talking well into the next morning. The sun had been up for 5 hour by the time John and Dean retired to bed.

Dean didn't bother turning on the light when he entered the bed room he sheared with Sam. It was a small room. Clothes sat in neat piles on the floor, stacks of Dean's CDs and Sam notebooks on a small desk shoved in the corner under the window, there were two beds, one twin, one full. A stack of Sam's school books sat open on the twin, next to his knives and cleaning cloth. Dean closed the door behind him not bothering to lock it. John never came in the room with out knocking first. Dean striped pulled back the cover, stretching out next to Sammy who was well into sleep. Even in sleep he rolled towards Dean, who caught him easily pulling him in to rest against him. Sam purred as Dean stroked him from the start of his spin to the dip in his back. Sleep found Dean.