Whoa, the season 9 has started, how awesome is that? If anyone wants to talk about the feels, my chat is always open!
A traditional gigantic thanks for FallenAngel2487 who does the hard work and I keep making it harder and harder. By the way, she's writing too and she definitely deserves your attention.
Sam woke up with a pounding headache. His mouth felt like something had crawled in and died in there during the night. When he opened his eyes, he groaned when the light hit him full force. Had the sun always shone this brightly?
When he tried opening his eyes for a second time, he covered them with his hand and peered through his fingers at the clock.
Crap! His first class was starting in like twenty minutes! He quickly shot up from the bed, but the world started spinning around and he had to sit back down. That didn't help the spinning though and he started to feel nauseous. He made it to the toilet bowl barely in time.
When he finished retching, he stood up shakily and rinsed his mouth. He looked in the mirror. He was pale, his eyes were red and beads of sweat were shining on his forehead. Just why did people drink exactly if it did this to them the morning after. Now he understood why Dean never woke up early, no matter if he had class or not.
Shit, the class!
He stumbled back into the room and searched his wardrobe for something to wear. His head was still spinning and at one point, he had to stop moving completely just to keep from throwing up again, even though he was sure he had nothing else to give. That was when he realized he could smell himself. He was still in his yesterday's clothes. God, he needed a shower. He was never gonna make it in time!
"What's the matter, Sam?" he heard Dean's voice.
He quickly turned around to find his roommate's sleep-crumpled face peeking at him from under his blanket. His head very distinctively didn't thank him for the sudden movement. Dean put a hand to his mouth.
"Don't like your first hangover?" the senior yelled loudly.
"Oh for Christ's sakes," Sam whined and screwed his eyes shut, trying to will the headache Dean's yelling had caused to subside. "Having fun?" he huffed.
"You have no idea," Dean grinned.
"I really hate you for making me go to that party!" Sam frowned. "Now I'm gonna be late for class and-"
"Dude, it's Saturday, chill," Dean rolled his eyes.
Sam blinked. That was right. Why didn't he remember that? He was never one to lose his track of time. Come to think of that, why didn't he remember the other half of last night at all?
"Go back to bed," Dean commanded. "Your body's gonna thank you later, trust me."
Sam sat back down on his bed and shook off his clothes. He wanted to ask Dean why he didn't force him out of his clothes before they went to sleep, but the senior was already back in the land of the dreaming.
Sam lay down and tried to make some sense from the mess in his head. Just when the fog finally started to clear, the sleep pulled him under.
The second round of rousing went much slower and smoother than the first. Sam opened one eye, figured out it was safe to open the other as well and stretched his body. Had the yawn been a bit bigger, his mouth would have been torn off. He felt like some giant truck hit him really hard, but it was still generally better than how he'd felt a few hours earlier.
Dean wasn't in the room, but there was a glass of water, a pill of aspirin and a note on Sam's nightstand.
Went out for lunch, figured you wouldn't want to eat anyway.
Enjoy your first time,
D.
Sam chuckled. Trust Dean to make something as horrible as a hangover sound like a first kiss.
Wait a moment.
Holy Hell!
The memories of Dean's lips on his and Dean's tongue in his mouth overflowed him. Just how the heck did that happen?
Sam recalled talking about first kisses and then he'd told Dean – oh no – that he was gay. But Dean's reaction absolutely didn't make any sense. He wasn't gay by any chance, not if the string of girls was anything to go by.
And was it a good kiss. Sam wished his memories were complete. He recalled the kiss and the feelings it stirred in him, but still every second of it that he couldn't remember was a wasted one. He wanted a round two.
But how was that gonna happen now? And why did Dean do it in the first place?
As if on cue, the door opened and his roommate flashed him a broad smile when he walked in.
"Sleeping beauty is up," he laughed. "Feeling any better?"
"You kissed me!" Sam replied, still unable to wrap his head around that.
"That I did," Dean smiled coyly. "I'm not surprised you remember that, I'm a fabulous kisser," he grinned smugly and plopped down on his bed.
Sam blushed heavily; he was not one to argue with that.
"B-but how?" Sam asked incredulously. "I mean...the girls! You like girls!"
"Yes, I do, but I don't discriminate. I like to pick the best from both species," Dean kept on grinning.
"Oh," Sam deflated. "I didn't have a clue," he complained. "Shouldn't being gay come with some sort of gaydar?"
Dean outright laughed at that.
"Please," he scoffed. "Do I look gay to you?"
Sam shook his head. Really, nothing about Dean even remotely suggested that he would be interested in the same sex. He never even talked about guys that way, let alone brought one here. It was always girls.
And Sam was fine with that, really. When he thought Dean was straight, his mind just never even went there. But now, how was he supposed to resist his roommate's charm? And how the hell was he supposed to forget about the kiss? He wanted, no needed Dean to kiss him one more time.
"Not all guys are that obvious," Dean winked. "You're gonna have to figure them out, before you hit on them."
Okay, so it probably wasn't going to be Dean who'd kiss him next, he could live with that. What he couldn't live with, though, was that he now had to actually go and flirt with someone and if that wasn't something impossible, Sam's last name wasn't Campbell.
"I have to work on this paper for a bit," Dean's voice broke his musing. "But we're going to grab some snack later. Wanna join?"
"Sure, hopefully I'll be able to stomach the food by then," Sam grinned sheepishly.
"Right," Dean chuckled. "And what do you know? Maybe you'll find someone that'll catch your eye," he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Sam looked away and busied himself with going through his notes to find an assignment to work on. He really didn't want to think about stuttering to get some guy's attention and then being laughed at by both the guy and the group of friends.
"Hey," Dean spoke softly as if sensing his worry. "Don't worry. I'll teach you anything you need to know."
Sam looked at his roommate surprised. The senior's smile was genuine, but the mischievous spark in his emerald eyes held a promise.
Fortunately, he didn't have to flirt with anyone on that lunch. He still wasn't really able to eat much and Dean's friends made fun of his hangover, but it was a good kind of joking. Then they moved on to the topic of the party. They were mostly talking about people Sam didn't know.
It seemed that someone managed to puke all over Hank's carpet and the host had been so pissed that he'd made the poor guy clean it once he sobered up a bit. Also, this person was apparently no longer welcome at Hank's parties. Sam could've easily pictured himself in this guy's position and once again found himself utterly grateful for Dean's rescue. It had led to different embarrassments, but at least those were more private and the whole senior year wasn't talking about them over food.
"Oh, and Tess and Matt spent the whole evening together again, but they're 'not a couple'," Julie said, making air quotes with her hands.
The not-a-couple, who was conveniently sitting next to each other rolled their eyes.
"Would you guys cut the crap?" Tess sighed exasperatedly. "Not a couple, never going to happen, now shut up." Matt was glaring at them every bit as angrily as Tess.
Sam's eyes kept darting between the two of them. They didn't look like a couple. Sure, as far as he could tell, they were always near each other, when he'd been out with the group, but there was no hand-holding, no kissing, no flirting or teasing, nothing.
"Tess and Matt were meant to be," Dean grinned at Sam. "They just don't know it yet." And then he burst in laughter, when Tess threw some of his fries at him.
Not too long after that, they got kicked out of the diner for throwing a food-fight.
The rest of the day went by pretty fast, Sam spent most of it hunched over his midterm papers and taking naps, because having a hangover was obviously very exhausting.
When he'd woken up on Sunday at his regular hour, he was feeling okay again. He grabbed a bunch of books he'd borrowed from the library and went to return them. Some of them were really overdue and he earned himself a dirty look from the old librarian, but he still walked out of there with an armful of freshly borrowed books and a huge smile. Yeah, he might be a nerd, but he loved books.
He was too engrossed in thinking that he hadn't realized someone was walking in the opposite direction, until they collided and his books were scattered all over the ground. His first reflex was to drop on his knees and gather them, before whoever pushed him could ruin them.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he heard a female voice and someone dropped next to him and helped him with the books. "You know what they say about texting while driving? Well, texting while walking should be illegal as well. I'm really sorry."
Sam hauled his books back up and smiled at the girl in front of him. She was one of his classmates.
"Oh, Sam, is that you?" she smiled, when she looked up at him.
"Uh, yeah?" he smiled sheepishly, because he didn't know her name. And that wasn't something usual in Sam's life.
"My name's Jessica," she blushed softly and stuck out her hand.
"I'd very much like to shake your hand," Sam said apologetically. "But my hands are kinda full."
"Oh. Yeah, haha, of course," the girl's cheeks coloured an even deeper shade of pink. "You need a hand with that?" she pointed at the pile of books in his arms.
"Uh, I can manage, thanks. I wouldn't want to keep you from wherever you were walking while texting," he smirked. It amazed him how easy he found it to talk to her, even though she was just a girl.
"It's not a bother, really," she smiled and took half of his books. "It's the least I can do after I ran into you."
They talked all the way to his room and Sam was pleasantly surprised by how much they had in common. She was also a shy and not out-going person, hence why she was probably one of the last people in his class whose name he didn't know; she got here thanks to a scholarship as well, even though just for the accommodation, but still and most importantly, she loved books.
"So, uhm," Jessica scratched her neck and averted her eyes, when they reached Sam's room. "Do you have time now? I kinda have nothing to do for a couple hours, so maybe we could grab a coffee and talk some more?" she forced those words out in one single stream and Sam blinked at her for a moment, unable to process it so quickly.
"Okay, nevermind," she blushed and handed him the books she'd been carrying.
"No, no wait," Sam said quickly, when he realized she must have mistook his silence for an answer. "Just let me put these away. We can go," he smiled.
"Really?" she beamed at him.
"Yeah, there's not many people I could talk to about the classic literature without being looked at like a complete dork."
She chuckled at that and Sam went inside to put his books away, leaving her outside to wait for a few minutes.
"Hey, Sam," Dean greeted him from the bed, where he was reading some book with headphones with his ears, one of them was hanging loose, because Dean took it out, when Sam walked in.
"Hey," Sam greeted back.
"Are you busy this evening?" Dean asked.
"Uh, no, shouldn't be, why?" Sam frowned. He definitely wasn't going to any party anytime soon.
"Wanna go to dinner with me?" Dean smiled coyly. Sam didn't like that look one bit.
"What's the catch?" he asked carefully.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean's face was all fake-innocence, now. "I'd just thought that you'd want to broaden your experience in the field of love," he winked.
"W-what?" Sam said dumbfounded.
"I think we should teach you how to flirt. You're gonna need it if you ever want to date."
Sam felt the blood drain from his face.
"Look, thanks for the offer, but I don't really feel like embarrassing myself in front of some stranger in the middle of a diner or wherever it was you wanted to take me, so..." he trailed off, hoping that Dean would let go of that topic.
Even though he knew he wouldn't.
"Who do you take me for?" Dean seemed genuinely offended now. "You're not gonna be flirting with a stranger. You're gonna be flirting with me," he pointed at his chest and grinned.
Sam almost choked on his own saliva, but fortunately, a knock on the door gave him the welcome diversion. He almost smacked himself on the head when he realized, he'd almost forgotten about the girl in front of his door.
"Sorry," he said, looking down sheepishly. "Let's go now."
"It's a date, then," he heard Dean call after him, right before he closed the door.
The coffee with Jessica was surprisingly fun. They switched between the topics of books and school mostly. Unlike Sam, who figured he'd find out what exactly he wanted to do after college during his years at said university, Jess had her whole life planned out. She wanted to be a lawyer focusing on the cases of abused women and children.
She said there was a girl, back in her fifth grade, who was in no way sticking out of the crowd. She wasn't the prom queen, but she had her friends (Jessica included), she was generally a sweet and generous girl, if a bit closed off.
As they grew older, though, she started missing classes, she withdrew herself and slowly lost most of her friends. Jessica focused on her studying; thinking that her friend had gone down a wrong path in her life, but that it was her decision. It wasn't until high school that she found out in the local paper that the girl had killed herself due to being physically and sexually abused by her stepfather for years.
Sam thought she felt a little responsible for not trying to help her friend, while she had the chance, but he was not going to discourage her from her course in life. If anyone seemed capable of making a change, it was Jess.
At some point during talking about classes, Jess mentioned having troubles with the legislative jurisdiction among all the cities and states and Sam naturally offered to tutor her. When she happily accepted, he grew a little worried that maybe that was all this had been about. Even though she would have gone a great lengths just to get him to tutor her.
But instead of excusing herself or losing her interest, as he'd expected her to, she seemed that much more thrilled to talk. The time went by pretty fast and he hadn't realized he'd forgotten his 'date' with Dean, until the senior appeared at their table.
"Sam, what are you doing here," he exclaimed. "We had plans, remember?"
Frankly, Sam expected Jess to start swooning or fanning over Dean or something, or maybe blush and stutter something shyly, but instead she frowned and sat back on her chair a bit.
"Um, Jess you probably know my roommate, Dean. Dean, this is Jess, we've just met today," he introduced his two friends to each other. "And I'm sorry, I forgot about the time. Plus it's not like we actually agreed on a specific time."
"Oh, I see how a fine looking lady like that would keep you occupied," Dean said, focusing on Jess and offering her his hand. "Dean Winchester."
"Jessica Moore," she answered rather coldly and when Dean took her hand to his lips and kissed the top of it, she quickly pulled back as though he'd burnt her and glared at him.
Sam was honestly taken aback by the sudden change in her behaviour. Okay, Dean might have interrupted them, but he was being nice towards her. He had no idea what might have triggered her sudden hostility.
Dean on the other hand continued smiling. It didn't even seem forced, if anything, he looked fairly amused.
"Well if your lovely friend will allow," he said with a wink aimed at Jess who crossed arms over her chest. "We were supposed to have that dinner, remember?" Dean turned his gaze back to Sam.
Jess pressed her lips into a thin line, but said nothing, waiting for Sam to decide.
"I'm really sorry, Jess, but I kind of promised Dean to have dinner with him and talking to you was so much fun that I'd completely forgotten..." Sam looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry?"
Her mouth twitched at that and she shrugged.
"Well what can I do," she said standing up and gathered her things. "But I'll see you later, right?" she asked Sam.
"Sure," he smiled at her and stood up as well, throwing some bills at their table.
"I definitely wouldn't mind seeing you later, if you know what I mean," Dean said slyly, dragging his gaze up and down her body.
"Dream on, you jerk," she spat out and walked away.
"I'm really sorry about Jess," Sam said as they sat down in the Campus diner. "She'd been really nice, I don't know what's gotten into her."
"Oh, don't worry about it, I liked her," Dean answered, but Sam didn't believe him. "Though I didn't think you'd start practising your dating skills beforehand," he smirked.
"What are you talking about?" Sam frowned in confusion.
"Are you really that blind?" Dean raised his eyebrow at him. "That girl has got the hots for you."
Sam snorted, which resulting in sputtering the coffee he'd ordered all over their table.
"Dude, I just met her today. She was just being nice, cause we're in the same class and she needs tutoring," he explained, while wiping the table clean with a napkin.
"She asked you to tutor her?" Dean laughed. "Sam, that's the textbook example of hitting on you! If the whole snarling at me, because I stole you away and because I openly flirted with her in front of you wasn't enough for you."
"You're making this up," Sam frowned, because that was just impossible. Girls didn't fall in love with him. Neither did boys, for that matter.
"Am I? I bet you a fifty that I'm right," he offered his hand for shaking. "And you, my dear friend, have got a major problem, because unless you forgot to tell me something, you're not exactly batting for her team. You're gonna have to figure out a way to reject her without breaking her heart."
Sam didn't shake his hand.
"I'm not betting on that! And why do you care?"
"She's a nice person," Dean replied and pulled his hand back with a smug grin.
"How would you know? She wasn't overly nice to you," Sam said pointedly.
"She isn't using you to get to me," Dean shrugged. "That qualifies as 'nice' in my book."
"Not everyone in this school is into you, you know," Sam muttered, but he had to admit, it was nice to think there was someone who liked him for him.
"Okay, you're getting an F from today's flirting lesson," Dean said mock-offended.
The waitress brought their food and set the plate with a bacon cheeseburger in front of Dean and the bowl of Caesar salad in front of Sam.
Sam was thankful for the distraction, because he could feel his ears burn hot with embarrassment again. He had kind of hoped Dean had forgotten about the original purpose of their 'date'.
"Okay, so let's say you got me drunk enough to agree to go out on a date with you," Dean said, when the waitress walked away again.
"Well thank you very much," Sam mumbled grumpily, but Dean ignored him.
"Here we are, having a dinner. What do you do?"
"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Sam asked instead. "The whole 'how to pick up a guy guide' thing."
"Of course I am," Dean nodded. "Now that I can bring over guys without the fear of your reaction, I want you to go out too. But I can't let you out there unprepared," he smirked.
"Well that is really nice of you, but do we really have to do this?" Sam waved his hand between them.
"What, am I not good enough for you?" Dean pouted.
Sam just rolled his eyes, but surrendered.
"Okay, so we don't know each other, right? We've just met at a party. And you were drunk," he added.
"Well I wasn't that drunk," Dean laughed softly. "I remembered the date. And decided to go. So it's safe to assume that I liked you."
"So, uh. Hi?" Sam raised his eyes and scratched the back of his neck nervously.
It was stupid to be nervous, because this was Dean and not really a date, but still. Sam only functioned on the passed/failed basis and he wasn't used to failing.
Dean laughed so hard that some of the other guests looked their way. Sam was never more grateful that they couldn't tell the senior was laughing at him.
"Wow," Dean said finally, when he remembered to breathe again, wiping the tears out of his eyes. "This is gonna take a lot of work."
Sam lowered his eyes. He didn't quite enjoy being mocked and that coming from one of the only real friends he had, it felt even worse.
"But it's gonna be fun," Dean winked at him. "Just be natural. Talk about anything. It'll work itself out."
"Since when are you such an expert at dating?" Sam huffed.
"I used to date," Dean shrugged. "Still do, sometimes. Some people take effort to get into bed," he grinned.
Sam laughed at that, but it occurred to him that he didn't know anything about Dean's love life. During the weeks living in one room with him, he'd learned a lot more than he ever wanted about the senior's sex life, or at least about the female part of it, but there was never a girl- or a boyfriend, no going out with someone, nothing of that kind. And Sam seriously doubted it was because of lack of trying of the others.
He took Dean's advice and started talking about the food. They quickly moved from the topic of their favourite food to their favourite almost anything and if Dean wasn't lying or still playing someone else, they actually had quite a lot in common. Except for the plans for their future, obviously.
At one point, a cloud that had been blocking the sun must have moved or something, because the rays of the setting sun shone through the blinds of the diner's window and fell on Dean's head. He'd been in the middle of talking about his praxis in a local paper's office last year. His already blonde hair seemed golden all of a sudden and the light reflected in his eyes, making them seem almost magical. Dean should get a copyright on the colour, because there wasn't a shade of green in the world that came even close. The freckles were almost invisible in the light. And as Dean was talking, his full lips were moving, shaping the words and it was all Sam could do not to shut him up with a kiss, because this wasn't a date. Not really.
"Saaaaaam," Dean said loud and long, snapping his fingers in front of Sam's eyes. "Did you fall asleep on me? Am I that boring?"
"What?" Sam said numbly, shaking his head. Did he really just tune Dean out just so he could drool over his face in the evening sun?
"Nothing," Dean smiled, but looked down, chewing on his bottom lip.
Sam hadn't known Dean for too long, but he'd known him long enough to start noticing signals of his non-verbal communication. Plus he'd been really paying attention to the older boy.
That was why he knew that Dean might be smiling and shrugging and saying 'Nothing', but in combination with looking down it means 'Something'. And when the bottom lip is also involved, it means 'Something important'.
He quickly rewound the latest development of their conversation in his head. Dean'd been talking about his plans for the future and his praxis. His eyes lit up the way they did when he'd been truly enthusiastic about something. And Sam gave him the impression that it wasn't interesting enough. That was rude, at the very least.
"No, no, you weren't boring me, really," he said quickly, covering Dean's hand with his without a second thought. "I just zoned out, wondering if maybe the universe is trying to make up for High school by giving me someone as amazing as you for a roommate. Seriously, no one in your position would do what you're doing for me. And I don't know if I've ever said thanks. So thank you. I appreciate it, all of it.
The light must have been still playing with his vision, because he could've sworn he'd seen Dean blush. And that just wasn't possible.
"That right there," Dean nodded to their hands, "earned you a solid C."
"Thank you, professor," Sam laughed, but made no move to draw his hand back. "Does that mean the lesson is over?"
"Yes, for today," Dean grinned and carefully untangled his hand from Sam's. The other boy tried not to be disappointed by it.
"Can I get you anything else, boys?" the waitress asked as she cleared their plates.
"No, thanks, we're leaving actually," Dean smiled at her and she went to retrieve the bill. "By the way, you're paying," he told Sam matter-of-factly.
"I thought this wasn't a date," Sam raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"It wasn't, but nobody tutors for free," Dean grinned.
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, but paid the bill anyway. The waitress's gaze flicked between them for a few moments and then she hurried to her co-worker behind the counter. Sam could've sworn that when they walked by to get to the door, he could hear the girls cooing.
"So, is this the part where I walk you home?" Sam asked lightly. His hand was itching to grab Dean's, so he stuffed his hands to the pocket of his jeans. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't a date.
Dean laughed, but said nothing and just started walking in their direction.
When they reached the door to their room, Sam held it open for Dean, who rolled his eyes, but walked inside anyway.
"I thought I said the lesson was over," he turned to Sam. "But since you obviously wanna do this properly," he took a step closer. "I didn't get my goodbye kiss," he blinked up innocently.
"W-what?" Sam could hear his heart started pumping faster. Did Dean really just say he wanted another kiss?
"Come on, Sam. Kiss me," Dean grinned.
Sam took a tentative step closer. Dean was within his arm-reach now. He took another half step. Dean's grin turned into an encouraging smile, but other than inkling his head; he'd made no move to initiate the kiss.
Sam took a deep breath that did nothing to calm him down. He could feel his hands sweating and he closed his eyes, but then he realized he didn't know where to aim, so he opened them. Dean was looking at him with an amused expression.
"Sam, it's just a kiss. You didn't do too badly, when it was your first and you were drunk. I'm sure it'll be fine. And even if it wasn't, it won't matter."
"Yeah," Sam breathed out, to convince himself. "Yeah, okay."
And with that, he leaned in.
It was kind of awkward. He bumped Dean's cheek with his nose, he didn't know how to give Dean a sign to open up his mouth and the older boy made no effort to do it himself. And he had no idea whatsoever as to what to do with his hands, so he let them hang loose and that was really awkward. After a minute of lips sliding against each other he pulled away slightly, just enough to look into Dean's eyes.
Dean started opening his mouth to speak and from the amused glint in his eyes and the way the left corner of his mouth twitched Sam knew, he'd make this into a joke. And that was not what Sam wanted. He wanted to hear Dean say he did a good job. That he learned fast. He wanted Dean to like the kiss.
Dean's eyes only had a chance to widen in surprise, before Sam pressed his lips against Dean's once more. This time it was more forceful and Sam managed to make Dean back up two steps, which was enough to press him against the wall.
Sam scanned his memory frantically to figure out the right way to do this, but the details were washed away with the alcohol, so he reacted on instinct.
He put his hands on Dean's hips, moulding their bodies together and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Dean wrapped his arms around his neck and ran his fingers through his hair. The soft massaging of his skull felt good. Dean's lips were soft and pliant under his and he responded to Sam's tries to deepen the kiss in kind, but still let the taller one of them be in control.
Tentatively, Sam decided to push his luck and buried his tongue in the wet heat of Dean's mouth. The older boy tasted after the coke he'd had with the dinner and something uniquely his. Sam wondered briefly what did he taste like and if Dean liked the way he tasted, but then Dean shifted his hips and brushed against Sam's crotch and all coherent thoughts flew right out of Sam's mind.
His lungs were sending S.O.S signals to his brain, because they were in a serious need of oxygen, but Sam ignored it as long as he could, because once he pulled away to take a breath, it would be it. And he didn't want this to be over just yet.
When he finally broke off the kiss and took in the sight of Dean, he was pleasantly surprised to find the senior panting as hard as he did. The thought that he'd just kiss his roommate breathless occurred to him, but he didn't voice it.
Dean was looking just gorgeous with his kiss swollen lips and slightly rumpled clothes. And Sam was the one to do it. He felt proud of himself.
"I take it back," Dean sighed, when he regained his composure. "Today was definitely a B plus," he grinned.
"B plus, huh?" Sam huffed out a laugh. "You liked it, admit it."
"Oh, I loved it. Especially the finish," he winked. "But you did say 'Hi' back in the diner," he laughed and Sam had to laugh along when he remembered the moment. Who would have thought the day would end here, with Dean backed up against a wall and in Sam's arms? "I couldn't give you a higher note even if you'd give me the best blowjob of my life right now," Dean added.
Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat that suddenly threatened to choke him. He knew that Dean meant what he said as nothing more but a joke, but Sam still grew a little uneasy. Was that what Dean had planned for their next lesson? Did he expect Sam to go down on him? Sam started feeling nauseous at that thought, but what scared him the most that he was almost sure he knew the answer to the question 'Should it come down to it, would Sam be able to tell Dean no?'. And it wasn't yes.
Dean seemed to notice something was off and he narrowed his slightly darkened eyes at Sam.
"Would you want that, Sam?" he growled with a voice dropped down an octave. "Would you want to end the date on your knees, convincing the guy you're worth the effort?"
He moved his hands from Sam's hair to the younger guy's shoulders and used them to switch their position, so that it was Sam with his back to the wall now.
"Do you even know how to do it?"
"I,uh, I know the theory," Sam choked out.
All the alarms were going off in Sam's head. No, he didn't want to do this, not yet. It was all too fast too soon. But what if he said that to Dean? Would that mean the end of their friendship? He was sure he must have looked just as terrified as he felt. He felt his lower lip start to tremble and he could completely relate now to the poor deer caught in headlights.
He felt Dean's hand on his cheek and tried to focus on the older boy's face. Dean was looking at him with a soft, almost fond look in his eyes.
"Shhh," he hushed Sam while stroking his cheek with his thumb. "It's okay, Sam. Take a breath. Let me take care of you."
Sam did as asked and closed his eyes when Dean leaned in to kiss him. He expected another full on the mouth kiss, but he got just a peck on the lips instead and then Dean's mouth was at his ear.
"You don't have to do anything," he heard his friend whisper. "Don't ever do anything you don't want. If anyone tries to force you, they're not worth it. Remember that," and with that he pulled away a little.
Sam didn't dare to open his eyes just yet.
"Dude, seriously, chill," he heard Dean chuckle. "I can hear your heart beating over here."
Sam's face had only a short time to colour in embarrassment and then Dean's mouth was at his once again.
The kiss had the desired effect on Sam. He felt his heartbeat even out and he even put his hands on Dean's face. This time it was Dean who licked into Sam's mouth and sucked on his lips.
The senior pulled away and rested his forehead against Sam's.
"You know, there are two ways to go about a blowjob," Dean continued in a hushed whisper, as though the major breakdown Sam just almost had didn't happen. "You can either be the one on your knees," he said, sliding his hands down Sam's chest and stomach and stopping at the fly of his jeans. "Or you can be the one with the pants down," he said and then suddenly he was out of the line of Sam's vision.
Sam looked down when he felt the zipper of his pants being pulled down. The senior was working his jeans down to his ankles. Sam's breath started coming out in harsh pants, but this time it was for far different reasons than a panic attack.
Dean ran his hands up his thighs and then hooked the fingers in the waistband of Sam's boxers. The freshman was never more grateful that he'd put on a regular black instead of the funny ones with animals on it that he'd gotten from his mom on Christmas.
Dean pulled the boxers down and Sam's dick sprung free, already hard. Sam had no idea when that happened.
"Whoa," Dean said. "Little Sam's not so little," he chuckled.
The warm puff of breath against the sensitive skin of his cock sent shivers down Sam's spine.
"Pay close attention, class," Dean murmured against the skin of his thighs as he nuzzled it. "This is probably the only lesson you'll actually use in life."
Sam wanted to laugh at that, but Dean chose that exact moment to close his lips around the head of his cock, so instead Sam let out a guttural sound. His head connected hard with the wall and his eyes rolled back into his head as Dean started sucking.
"Oh my god," Sam breathed out and moaned again.
"Shshsh," Dean whispered around the mouthful of Sam's cock and the taller boy's knees didn't give out only thanks to some miracle.
He felt Dean's tongue press flat on the underside of his dick as he moved up and down. It was the best feeling in the world. The searing heat was setting his whole body aflame and he could feel the orgasm being sucked out of his body, literally. He knew he wouldn't last long.
He looked down at his friend, on his knees, pretty pink lips stretched around his cock and cheeks hollowed. The big green eyes blinked up at him and that was all Sam could withstand. He threw his head back and cried out as he felt the spasm shake his whole body. Even though he could feel his balls draw up and shoot their entire load out, the wet heat of Dean's mouth never left his cock. Jesus Christ he's swallowing! went through his mind and then his vision whitened with the strength of the second orgasm's wave.
This time his knees did give out. He could feel himself sliding down the wall and when his head stopped spinning, he opened his eyes again.
He was looking right into Dean Winchester's cheery face.
"You doing okay, there?"
All Sam could do was nod.
"Dude, that good?" Dean laughed. "You really are a boost for one's self confidence, you know that?"
"I, uh," Sam hoarsed out, cleared his throat and tried again. "Thank you. That was...wow."
"Don't make me blush," Dean laughed and stood up. He held out his hand and helped Sam up as well. "You should probably take a shower. You look like you've been run over by a truck," Dean chuckled.
"Um, uh yeah, I'll do that," Sam stuttered and disappeared in the bathroom. "Smooth," he glared at his own reflection.
He really looked funny. Dishevelled hair, standing in all directions, pupils blown wide like he'd just had a joint and rumpled clothes, the button of his jeans still undone. He poured some cold water on his face, but it did nothing to clear the fog in his brain.
Later in the shower, he realized that the weird high-on feeling wasn't sleepiness or leftover adrenalin from the panic or nervousness, but that it was the blissed out moment after his first orgasm induced by someone else.
Sam couldn't wait for the next lesson.