"Won't we get in trouble for this?" Sam whispers, pulling on Dean's hand to get his attention. Dean drags Sam along behind him as they sneak around to the back of the ETU Arena. They weave through an open gate and creep along to a door that's been propped open with a ballpoint pen.

"I would never get us in trouble," Dean replies in a hushed tone. "Don't worry, Sammy, I've got connections."

Sam rolls his eyes, stretching his neck to look around for other people. Dean reaches out from inside the arena and grabs the front of his jacket, pulling him inside. Sam hollers in surprise and Dean silences him with a hand over his mouth.

"Okay, we might get in a little trouble, so keep it down," he whispers before replacing his hand with his lips. "I had to pay off the ice manager. Come on."

He leads Sam through a boiler room and past a Zamboni towards the rink. Sam digs his heels in and Dean turns to him.

"No hustling, I promise, but I really don't know how to skate," Sam says, holding up his hands as he realizes what Dean has planned. Dean laughs, dragging Sam towards a small wooden bench by the door to the ice. He pushes down on Sam's shoulders to make him sit and then lifts the duffel he was carrying off of his shoulder and sets its on the floor. "And how are we going to skate in the dark?"

"Here, just put these on. Make sure you tie them tight around your ankles," he adds, handing Sam a pair of black hockey skates. Sam pulls the tongue back, trying to read the small label inside by the dim light of the emergency exit signs.

"How did you know what size I am?" he asks, looking up to see that Dean has disappeared. "Dean?"

"I'll be right back!" he hears Dean's disembodied voice echo through the arena. A moment later, lights pop on over the ice surface. Sam watches as Dean jogs around the rink towards him.

"Scoot." Dean sits down next to Sam and pulls his own skates from the bag. They both bend, removing their shoes and pulling on the skates. Dean finishes tying his skates and looks over to see that Sam is tying his way too loose.

"Here, you'll break an ankle if you don't tie them tight enough," he says, kneeling in front of Sam and pulling the laces tight. He wraps the long ends around Sam's ankles for support. Standing, he holds his hands out. Sam places his hands in Dean's and Dean pulls him up.

"How do they feel?" Dean aks, still holding Sam's hands as he wobbles on the blades.

"Alright I think. Dean, I'm not sure about this," Sam adds nervously, and looking into his eyes, Dean can tell he's worried about stepping onto the ice.

"Okay, you're gonna be fine. Walk around for a minute out here to get the feel and balance. Just stay on this rubber matting, okay? I'll be right back." Sam nods and Dean slowly backs away, letting go of his hands. Once he sees that Sam has his balance, he turns and pulls open the door to the ice surface. He skates across the surface to the time keeper's box, pulling his phone from his pocket. Suddenly, Aerosmith is playing quietly over the sound system.

"Are you ready?" Dean asks as he comes to a stop at the door.

"I think so. Just don't let me fall too much," Sam adds, coming towards Dean, his hands out for balance.

"Of course not," Dean tells him, reaching out to take one of Sam's hands, holding him steady as he steps down onto the ice. "Okay, now just walk out here. Hold onto the wall with your other hand."

Sam walks along next to the wall, hanging onto the wall with his right hand, squeezing the feeling from Dean's fingers with his left. Slowly he picks up his pace, and a smile spreads across his face. "This isn't so bad," he tells Dean, peeking quickly at him from the corner of his eye before looking back down at his feet.

"Don't look down, you'll fall," Dean says, reaching over and lifting Sam's chin. "You're doing great. Think you want to try skating now?"

"Yeah, I think so. I can still hold the wall, right?"

"No, not when you're actually skating, it will throw off your balance. I'll skate right in front of you, I won't let you fall," Dean adds, then pushes himself around to face Sam. "Okay, let go of the wall. Arms out, there, like that. Now balance your weight on your left foot, and push off with your right. Imagine you're scraping the ice away from you on a diagonal."

Dean glides backwards a foot to give Sam some room, but keeps his arms out in case Sam starts to fall forward. Sam hesitates, then follows Dean's instructions, and manages to remain upright as he glides forward. His face breaks into a huge grin. He switches feet, and again glides forward without falling.

"Eyes on me, now." Sam looks up to meet Dean's eyes, and glides forward on his left foot. "Relax, Sammy, bend your knees a little. You have to be graceful, like a bird."

"I'm a bird," Sam says to himself, pushing off with his left foot and gliding towards Dean, who skates backwards just a little farther.

"If you're a bird, I'm a bird," Dean quotes with a laugh.

"Did you just quote the no-" Sam starts, losing his concentration and hurtling forwards, his arms flapping wildly trying to maintain his upright position. Dean skates towards him trying to help, but its too late. Sam lands on top of him like a brick house. Sam pushes up slightly and looks down at Dean.

"Sorry!" he exclaims. The worried look in his eyes makes Dean burst into laughter, and soon Sam is laughing as well.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, when Dean finally slows.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm great. Are you?"

"Better than great, since I had a cushion to land on!"

"Hey!" Dean starts to protest, pretending offense, but Sam stops him with a press of his warm lips. Dean sighs, lifting his head from the ice to return the pressure. Sam's hand comes to cradle the back of Dean's head as his tongue presses between Dean's teeth. Dean holds Sam's face between his hands, tilting his head to give himself better access to Sam's mouth. The cold of the ice on his back mixed with the heat of Sam on top of him, and that taste of honey on Sam's lips has his head spinning.

Sam groans, pushing himself up so that his knee can bend to either side of Dean's hips. Dean bends his knees slightly, scooting Sam up towards him more. Dean reaches up and unzips Sam's jacket, sliding his hands underneath to clutch at his blue and gray striped shirt. He pulls Sam against his chest. Sam lifts himself, kissing along Dean's jaw to his ear as he starts unbuttoning Dean's plaid flannel. Dean moans as Sam nibbles on his earlobe, raising a breathy chuckle from Sam. Pulling up the back of Sam's shirt, he runs his cold hands along Dean's waist and up his spine, his fingers tingling.

Sam rubs his nose along Dean's stubble before kissing him hard, once more plunging his tongue into Dean's mouth. Suddenly, Dean's hands are in Sam's hair, his fingers running through the soft locks over and over. Sam moans against his lips, and Dean can feel Sam's pleasure against his stomach, as he's sure Sam can feel his against his backside. The pressure in Dean's pants from having Sam straddling him feels amazing, and he lifts his hips to increase it. Sam grins as he pulls open Dean's shirt, revealing the thin black t-shirt underneath, and he wriggles from side to side, causing Dean to moan loudly.

"Shhh," Sam tells him, holding a finger over Dean's lips and beaming down at him. "We don't want to get in trouble, remember?"

"Oh you're already in trouble!" Dean tells him, tongue darting out to lick Sam's finger.

"Mmm…" Sam moans, bending his head to kiss Dean again before pulling back.

"Do you want to try again?" Dean asks, brushing the hair out of Sam's eyes with his fingers.

"I think I've had enough skating for one day, don't you? Let's get out of here." They untangle themselves, pulling their shirts back into place and adjusting their erections inside their jeans. Dean stands, brushing the ice from his ass.

"You might have to help me up. Or better yet, just drag me out of here," Sam tells him, lying flat on his back on the ice, arms and legs sliding back and forth like a snow angel.

Dean laughs, hands on his knees. He bends over, grabs a hold of Sam's hand, and helps him to stand shakily.

"Just bend your knees and hold on to my hands," Dean says, then skates backwards, dragging Sam from the ice. "I gotcha."

Two mugs of hot coffee and a couple warm showers later, Dean lays in Sam's bed, watching Sam brush his teeth through the open bathroom door. Sam glances over at him and grins. Sam finishes, then saunters over to the bed, pulling off his t-shirt and tossing in the general direction of his laundry hamper. He slides under the covers next to Dean but leans against the headboard, pulling the comforter up to his hips.

"Dean, can I talk to you about something?"

"Absolutely, Sammy, what's up?" Dean replies, rolling over onto his back and putting his hands behind his head. Sam nervously picks at the seam of the blanket.

"Umm," he starts, then shakes his head a little before starting again. "Well, remember when we were hanging out with Cas and Meg, and, uh, we talked about how I'd never had a boyfriend or anything?"

"Yeah, I remember," Dean says, turning his head slightly to glance up at Sam.

"So, I guess what I'm trying to bring up without being weird about it, is that, umm," he stops again. "Fuck. I'm a virgin, okay?"

Dean scoots up, leaning against the headboard next to Sam. He reaches over and takes Sam's hand from the comforter, lacing their fingers together. "Of course it's okay."

"It's just that I know you've had a boyfriend and I assume you guys had sex but I haven't done any of that."

"I understand, and I hope you don't feel like I'm pressuring you or anything. I really don't mean to be like that."

"No, it's not that. I want to have sex with you. I just don't know exactly what I'm doing. Let's just say there isn't much sex in the Sex Ed program at my school."

Dean reaches over and tries to pull Sam's face around so he can see him. "Hey, Sammy, look at me." Sam finally looks over and meets Dean's eyes. "We can go as slow as you want to. I would never do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I want you to know that. I promise that it's okay, and that whatever you want to do, I'm here for you."

"Okay."

"No, I mean it. I'm here for you," he emphasizes, pressing his hand to Sam's chest. "Not for sex, or anything else. I care about you a lot, Sam."

Sam smiles, his dimples deepening and his nose crinkling.

"Thanks Dean, that means a lot to me."

Dean pulls Sam towards him with his fingers under Sam's chin and kisses him softly. Sam blushes as he pulls away, and runs his hand through his hair nervously.

"Well, that was pretty awkward, right? Sorry, I just felt like I needed to tell you that. I'm ready for bed," he adds, chuckling and pushing his hand through his hair a second time.

"I'm glad you told me," Dean replies nonchalantly, sliding down into the bed again. Sam slides down next to him and Dean scoots his arm behind Sam's neck. Sam turns towards him and drags his fingertip around Dean's chest, tracing the tattooed tentacles as they circle his nipple.

"Thanks, Dean," he whispers, then turns away and reaches over to switch of the lamp. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight, Sammy."