I decided to make this story into 3 parts.
ATTENTION: If you do NOT want to read weecest sex (specifically blowjobs) then SKIP the first segment! Ok.(:
"Come on, Sammy," Dean said, kissing the back of his neck. He sneaked his hands under the back of Sam's shirt, caressing around to his front. "I can think of much better things to do."
Distracting Sam from his homework quickly became one of Dean's favorite hobbies.
"Stop. I have to finish this. It's my English final." Sam said, sounding more resigned than pissed.
"You've finished all your finals but English. It's not due until Friday! You have plenty of time to take a break and relax." Dean promised. He pushed the tip of his fingers into Sam's waistband, biting softly at his shoulder.
Sam turned. His face was brought right next to Dean's, and Dean kissed him. Sam dropped the pencil in his hand, wrapping his arms around Dean.
"Okay." Sam agreed to Dean's surprise. Usually he'd have to bug some for an hour before the younger boy gave in. He wasn't complaining, though.
He grinned, grabbed Sam and lifted him. He laughed at the sound Sam gave and dropped him on a bed, crawling on top of him. He yanked his shirt off, pulled Sam's off right after, and slotted their hips together.
His hands found Sam's neck as he bent down to kiss him impatiently. Sam opened his lips easily, gently rolling his tongue against Dean's. His hands pet down Dean's back, and he arched his back to be closer to Dean.
Sam made a soft sound when Dean leaned back, starting to undo his pants. Sam lifted his hips so they'd come off with ease, and then began to help Dean take off his. Sam shuddered when Dean covered his body again, kissing and sucking at his neck.
Dean scooted down, taking one of Sam's nipples in his mouth, pleased at the mewling sound Sam gave. He began to lick his way down Sam's stomach when he paused, looking up to him.
Sam was panting softly, looking down at him with half lidded eyes, hands light against Dean's skin. Dean came up, kissed softly against his lips.
"You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah?"
"You sure? You're... acting different." Dean said, pushing hair from Sam's forehead.
Sam was usually just as hectic as he was - energetic and rough and fast moving. Dean loved how Sam tried to push him around but couldn't, yet he was pliant and soft.
"Just... can we go slow this time?"
"Of course," Dean was taken aback but not opposed. He kissed Sam again, a mere brush of lips. "Do you want to stop?"
"No, want you." Sam breathed. He threaded his fingers into Dean's short hair, leaning up and kissing Dean deeply.
Dean moved with him, going easily when Sam pushed him and switched their positions. He straddled Dean, and they kissed, groped, and grinded for an hour before Dean tugged at Sam's boxers in question.
Sam moved back, slipping out of his last bit of clothing, taking Dean's off as well. He pushed Dean's legs farther apart, caressing his thighs as he leaned down.
Dean moaned Sam's name, hands gripping at his shoulders and head but not pushing.
"Look at me," Sam said.
Dean did. Without breaking eye contact, Sam licked up the length of his cock before taking the head inside, sucking. Dean's hips twitched, and he tried to control it. He was already close from Sam humping against him against him for an hour.
Sam took the majority of Dean's cock into his mouth, bobbing his head as he gripped the remainder with his fist.
Sam moaned against him, the vibration causing Dean to curse. Dean moved his hands to the bed, afraid he'd yank Sam closer as he neared his orgasm.
Dean's hips jerked erratically, and Sam knew he was closed. He backed off, keeping Dean against his tongue as he sucked hard. He felt the warmth of his release against his tongue and swallowed, sucking gently.
Dean pulled him off, groaning. Sam was stroking himself, about to come when Dean grabbed his arms.
"Dean," Sam protested, but Dean was pulling him up until Sam's cock was near his face. He took him in his mouth, Sam only lasting a few thrusts before he cried out with his own release.
Sam rolled over, boneless and sated. Dean chuckled, relaxed as well.
"What was that?" Dean over a yawn.
Sam shrugged. Dean kissed his shoulder, waiting for an answer.
"I'm just sad. I'm going to miss you, is all. School ends next week."
"You can stay with me, like you did over past holidays," Dean said.
"Yeah, but my grandpa won't want me gone that long. I'm fifteen, I can take care of myself. He know it, too. Wants me there. And then you'll be gone next year."
"Not gone." Dean argued. "Just at college. We can still visit and Skype... text. Lots of fun things can happen that way too."
Sam looked at him, laughing at Dean wiggling his eyebrows.
"Not the same," He complained.
"It'll work," Dean said.
"Hey, Dad," Dean said as he walked into Bobby's office, "wanted to see me?"
"Yeah! Hey, Dean. Sit down." Bobby said, shuffling some papers to the side.
Dean groaned, plopping down into a chair he was too accustomed to. "I haven't done anything! It's the last day of school. No one is even here to prank."
Bobby eyed Dean, almost a warning look, "Not here because of that, Dean. It's about Sam."
"Sam?" Dean perked up. "What about Sam?"
"Y'all have gotten close, huh?"
Dean blushed, fingers twitching. "Uh, yeah. Best friends."
Bobby grinned, laughing, "I knew y'all would get along! I'm happy to hear that. How'd you feel if he stayed the summer with us?"
"I... actually was going to try and get that to happen," Dean said cautiously. He was happy, but something didn't sit right. "Do you know something?"
"Do you know something?" Bobby countered.
Dean twitched. True, he couldn't keep his hands off Sam, but he didn't do anything stupid enough to get caught. He wasn't going to keep it a secret from Bobby forever... maybe just until Sam was 16. Or 17.
"His grandpa and I are talking about an arrangement. He's... He's not going to last too much longer, and Sam is going to need a place to stay when he passes." Bobby said.
Now Dean was curious. He understood Bobby's caring heart - wanting Dean to befriend Sam and room with him because of Sam's unfortunate situation. Dean would offer his home in a second for Sam, but why would Bobby?
"I'm not complaining, but... why?" Dean asked.
Bobby gave a long sigh, hand scrubbing at his beard. "You know why I'm the one that too you in, right?"
Dean gave Bobby a crazy look. What did this have to do with anything? "Uh, yeah. You adopted me."
"And I got to do that because I was officially named your godfather." Bobby reminded.
"So?"
"So, you and Sam should have known each other a long time ago, Dean. But I didn't have any say in the matter with him." Bobby looked pain, shaking his head. "I know, I should have said something before, but Dean-"
Dean felt the world came to a stop. He had a sinking, heavy weight in his stomach that prevented him from didn't want to accept what was being said to him. No. Bobby meant something else.
"-this is a good thing! You and Sam became best friends, you act like brothers already, and-"
Dean didn't realize he had stood until Bobby's voice trailed off. He was hyperventilating, shaking his head.
"You never told me," Dean whispered.
"I didn't think his grandfather would ever let you two see each other, Dean. I didn't want-"
"My grandfather!" Dean suddenly yelled, pointing at himself. "My brother! How could you-"
"He hates me, Dean! He hated your father and he hated me for being his best friend. If I were to let you see him, or Sam, he would have tried to take you away from me! It was for the best-"
"You lied to me!" Dean screamed, realizing he was crying. "Sam is my- my brother, and you didn't say a damn thing!"
"I wanted you to get to know one another before I dropped him into your life permanently!"
Dean ignored Bobby and ran for the door. He didn't care what he was shouting at him behind his back, he took down the hall.
Dean waited until the last moment to go to his room and pack. It was easy to do with his dad being a professor. Always the last to leave.
When he entered the room, though, Sam was sitting on his bed with a suitcase at his feet.
He jumped up immediately, "Where have you been, Dean? I've been looking for you."
Dean clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to calm the tidal wave of emotion crashing into him. He walked over to his dresser, confused when it was empty.
"I packed for you," Sam said.
Dean turned and nodded. "Thanks." He should have noticed. The room was bare.
He stalked over, snatched his luggage, but before he could leave, Sam grabbed his arm. He wrenched away from him, staring. Sam looked hurt.
"Did I... do something? Dean, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. My dad is waiting. I have to go."
"He's giving me a ride to the train station; we're going together."
Sam stepped closer, hand reaching for Dean's face, but Dean slapped it away.
"Don't touch me, Sam!"
Sam gaped at him, stepping back and yelling, "Why're you being such an asshole?"
Dean ignored him, stomping out of the room. Sam followed, fighting the tears in his eyes. When he reached the car, Dean was already inside with his suitcase in the trunk.
"What's wrong with Dean?" He asked Bobby when the man came to help with his luggage.
"He's just mad at me, son. Don't worry about it. You haven't done anything." Bobby clasped Sam's shoulder, giving him a smile.
Sam slid into the backseat, watching Dean type fanatically at his phone, a scowl etched on his face.
"You have your phone?" He asked before he could stop himself.
"Yeah?"
"I thought you lost it," Sam said, unable to hide the hurt in his voice. He had called and texted him the entire day and half he was missing. With no response.
"No."
"Sam will be here soon," Bobby said from Dean's doorway. Sam spent two weeks with his grandfather and now was coming to stay at their house for at least a month. "Don't... Dean, I know your mad at me. But don't take it out on Sam, okay?"
"Whatever," Dean mumbled.
Bobby sighed. "You wanna come with me to get him?"
"No."
Bobby waited a minute - to see if Dean would stop being stubborn and change his mind - and left, getting in his car and driving to the train station.
"I think you at least owe me an explanation," Sam said.
Dean ignored him, continuing to wash the dishes. He expected Sam's cold shoulder to last a lot longer than a day, but he was pissed. Dean ignored every form of communication from him. Sam grabbed the plate from his hand causing Dean to grit his teeth.
"Where's Bobby?"
"He went out."
"Convenient." Dean muttered, wiping his hands. He leaned against the counter, looking at Sam for the first time since the end of school. "What do you want?"
"For you to stop being an asshole!" Sam tossed the plate back into the sink. "If you're going to break up with me, you should at least say the fucking words!"
"Fine! I'm breaking up with you! Happy?"
Sam looked taken back, like he hadn't actually expected Dean to do it. He shook his head, turning it away. "No. Why?"
"Why not," Dean said. He couldn't think of anything but how this was his little brother in front of him.
"Are you kidding? 'Why not'? Is - Is there someone else?"
"No," Dean said, regretting it. He should have lied.
"I don't understand."
"Don't have to. Just get over it."
"Just get - Dean! Even if," Sam broke off, a tear making itself present as his voice broke, "Even if we aren't - why are you mad? We could... at least be friends. I'll be staying here a lot."
"Where are your parents?" Dean asked suddenly, a bit cruelly.
"What?" Sam stared, slow to answer. "I don't know. My grandfather just said they died. He wouldn't. Tell me anything."
"And what? No aunts or uncles or siblings?"
"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked, a choked sound coming from him.
Dean walked away, ignored the sounds of Sam crying while it broke his heart.
Bobby had hoped that a week would have been long enough for Dean to start talking to Sam again. It didn't happen, and Sam was prone to escape the room as soon as Dean entered.
"Hey, Sam. Got a minute?" He asked, sitting beside him on the couch.
Sam placed his book beside him and nodded.
"I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was hoping Dean would come around." Bobby explained.
"Okay?"
"Actually, I was banking on him being excited and telling you. That's not going to happen, it seems." Bobby paused, trying to find the right words. "He's not mad at you, Sam. I... I should have told him, and your grandpa should have told you."
"Told me what?"
Dean got back late from his trip to a bar with a couple of local friends. He eyed the light coming out from under his door suspiciously, sighed when he saw Sam inside.
Sam stood from the bed, face red and eyes puffy.
"Sam, I don't want to do this right now."
"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.
"What?" Dean stopped, alcohol clogged mind slow to catch up.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam screamed. "I was apart of this, too, you know! I deserved to know!"
Dean looked away, frowning. "Doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?" Sam strode over, in Dean's face. "Doesn't matter? I'm your brother!"
"Yeah," Dean hissed, in Sam's face too now, "My little brother. My little brother that I fucked."
Sam took a step back. He was crying again.
"What? Not gonna say 'oh, this doesn't change anything'! Not gonna use that big mathlete brain of yours to think of a solution? No?" Dean waited, but Sam didn't respond. "Then get out! Get out, Sam! I don't want to see you!"
"This isn't my fault."
The rest of the summer went by with minimal words spoke between the two. Sam left to go back to hisgrandfather's, and Dean didn't see him again before he went to college.