Sam knows he's supposed to be doing his homework. He has a book report due on Monday and he just now finished the book. However, what's going on outside his window is much more interesting than The Red Badge of Courage.
Two hours ago, Hallie Boyland--the pretty blonde from 9B that Dean's been after since, oh, about five minutes after they moved in--spread a towel out on the lawn and laid down to sunbathe wearing nothing but a pink polka-dot bikini. Sam's glad Dean's out doing recon for Dad because he's sure the girl just wants to get a tan in peace and not have to fight off the advances of a horny teenager who thinks he's God's gift to women. It's not that Sam really cares about what Hallie's doing, it's just that she has long curly hair, like Mom's, and it's hard for him to take his eyes off it. If he was in Dean's grade, he'd be able to rib Dean about his obvious Oedipal tendencies, but Sam's only in junior high and hasn't encountered that particular concept yet.
Hallie soaks up the late May sunlight, turning over every twenty-five minutes like clockwork until quarter of three when a short, curvy girl with spiky black hair and baggy black jeans walks across the grass and flops down on the towel next to her. Hallie sits up and kisses the spiky-haired girl on the cheek first, and then on the lips. Sam leans forward, trying to see whether they're kissing with tongue, and he knows he shouldn't be staring but he's never seen a girl tongue-kiss another girl before. He's seen kissing in movies and it's always been a man and a woman. He didn't know girls were allowed to kiss other girls.
He keeps watching as the spiky-haired girl pushes Hallie down onto her back and climbs on top of her. It almost looks like they're trying to have sex or something, but two girls can't have sex. Sam doesn't know much about sex, but he knows that it involves guy parts and girl parts, and since girls can't have guy parts, girls can't possibly have sex with each other. That's logical, right?
Sam is still watching the girls when he hears a door slam nearby. A fat woman stalks across the grass. "Hallie Marie Boyland!" she yells. "Get your hands off that girl at once!"
Hallie and the spiky-haired girl spring apart and jump to their feet. Hallie's face is pale despite long exposure to the sun. "Mom--"
"Get inside this instant!" snaps Hallie's mom, pointing to the door of their apartment. "And as for you, Katrina, I'll be calling your parents as soon as I'm done punishing my daughter. Now get out of my sight and don't even think of coming back!"
Hallie trudges across the lawn, wiping tears from her cheeks. Hallie's mother stomps along behind her. They both disappear and Sam hears the door slam again.
Sam tries to go back to his book report, but all he can think about is the image of Hallie and Katrina kissing. He doesn't know why he's so stuck on it, because it doesn't mean anything to him, at least as far as he can tell.
Dean comes in just before dark. His jeans are dirty and torn at one knee and there's a long scrape down one arm that's already scabbed over. "What happened to you?" Sam asks casually, not letting any concern creep into his voice.
"Nothing," Dean answers. "You done with your homework?"
"Yeah," Sam lies. He takes a deep breath. "Hey, what do you call two girls kissing?"
Dean grins. "Awesome," he replies immediately. Then he stops and actually thinks about the question and who it's coming from. He sobers. "Why do you ask?"
Sam shrugs. "Thought there might be a special name."
"What got you thinking about two girls kissing?"
"I saw two girls kissing. Out in the yard. Before."
"And I missed it? Shit!" Dean pulls off his t-shirt and Sam sees a patch of red under his ribs that will be black and blue tomorrow. He wonders what Dean's not telling him. "Did you recognize them?"
"One was Hallie Boyland," says Sam.
"Aww, man!" Dean looks really disappointed now.
"They were tongue-kissing, I think," Sam goes on. "Why would they do that? Are girls even allowed to kiss other girls?"
Dean sighs. "You're not gonna drop this, are you?" He sinks down into the chair across from Sam. He rubs one hand over his eyes. "It's like this. Girls are meant to like boys, and boys are meant to like girls. That's how we're made. But every now and then you get people who aren't made like the rest of us. That doesn't make them bad, it just makes them different."
Sam frowns."But how do you know?"
"Know what?"
"If you like boys or girls? How do you know?"
"Oh, fuck me," Dean mutters, slouching in the hard wooden chair. "Sammy, you just know. You feel it. You look at someone, and your heart starts pounding and you start breathing faster and all you can think about is--" Dean trails off. "Forget it, you're not old enough for this."
"Am too!" Sam sits up straighter.
Dean shakes his head. "No, I am so not having a sex talk with you. No way."
"I didn't even ask about sex," Sam says petulantly. "I just asked about liking somebody."
"And that right there is why you're not old enough to hear any more." Dean stands up. "We're done. I'm gonna hit the shower."
"No, wait!" Sam cries, jumping up. "I have another question."
Dean leans heavily against the table. "What is it now?"
"How do you learn how to French kiss?"
"You don't learn how to French kiss, you just...do it." Dean gestures helplessly with the arm that's not holding him up.
Sam scrunches his forehead. "But how do you know what to do?"
"God, Sammy, there's not an explanation for everything! Some stuff you just learn by doing." Dean pushes past Sam, knocking him with his shoulder.
Sam spins around. "Dean?" he asks in a small voice.
Dean stops, but doesn't turn around. "What?" he asks, exasperated.
"Would you show me?"
"Show you what?" Dean turns to face Sam.
"You know...how to kiss," Sam answers, barely audible.
Dean's eyes widen. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that."
"Please, Dean?" Sam whines.
Dean exhales sharply. He takes a step toward Sam. "Promise me you will never tell anyone about this. If you do, I will kick your ass so bad--"
"I won't tell," Sam interrupts. "I promise. I'll take it to the grave."
Dean regards him coolly. Then he steps forward and grabs Sam's wrist, pulling him close. Dean's hand is warm, and he smells of sweat and earth. He leans down and presses his lips to Sam's. Sam can feel the prickle of stubble on his chin. His lips are softer than Sam was expecting, and taste slightly of salt. Dean puts a hand on the small of Sam's back and draws him closer. Sam rises up on his toes and grabs Dean's arm to balance himself. Dean gently slides his tongue into Sam's mouth and it nearly knocks Sam on his ass because he wasn't expecting that. Dean's tongue seeks out Sam's, brushes it lightly and then retreats, and before Sam can think about it he realizes that his tongue is now in Dean's mouth and Dean was right, this is not something that can be explained with words.
Dean pulls back and there's a soft pop when their lips part. Sam is breathing harder than he'd like and he's aware of his heart pounding in his chest. He wonders if Dean can hear it. Dean's face is flushed and Sam can feel the hand on his back trembling just slightly.
"This never happened," Dean whispers. "And it'll never not happen again, got it?" Sam nods,not trusting himself to speak.
Dean turns and walks to the bathroom. Sam waits until the door closes before he takes another breath.