Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8766997.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Pre-Canon
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-08-29 Words: 2077
****** Hard to run and hide ******
by Daisy [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]
Summary
     After a particularly dangerous hunt, John worries that the boys are
     in over their heads as hunters. He sends them to the woods for a week
     to hone their hunter skills and instead they experience each other
     for the first time.
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.
     Author's notes: Dean is 20. Sam is 16.
From the corner of his eye, Dean Winchester saw the dawn creeping into the wide
open sky stretched before them. Within minutes, the horizon looked like it was
on fire, orange and yellow flames lapping at the dark of the night. Silence had
oppressively ruled the car for miles now. Dean slouched further into the
passengers seat, almost willing himself to melt into the soft black leather. He
could now feel his fathers intense glare boring into him. He gave a sideways
glance over and huffed a response.
 
"Christ, dad. What now?"
 
"Let's just go over this again Dean. I'm dropping you boys off at Neal's. I'll
be gone on a job for at least a week, probably more and what's your objective?
Don't go gettin' all smart-assy with me again," John warned.
 
"Dad, we've been over this. I got it. Sam and I need to sharpen our skills,
hand to hand, target practice, working out. I know the drill. Look, I know what
happened in Washington was bad but don't blame Sam. I shouldn't have left him
alone," Dean answered.
 
"Which is why it's important for you not to lose focus this week, Dean. Sam'll
get himself killed next time if he doesn't get his head outta his ass."
 
Another long silence descended in the car. Deans younger brothers low breathing
suddenly sounded preternaturally loud inside Deans head. The kid had more
growth spurts than seemed possible, creating this lanky yet solid 16 year old
crammed into the back seat. Dean knew he should be annoyed by the fact that
Sam's knees were pressed against his sear, jamming into Dean's back. Instead,
he relished it. He found comfort in the closeness they shared. His fathers
obsessive and cold outlook on life alienated him from his sons, that much was
crystal clear. Dean and Sam had spent most of their childhood with no parental
figure present and that was just fine with them.
 
John pulled the old car off the main road and onto a familiar gravel driveway.
Dad's marine buddy owned a remote lake house up this winding road to no where
and Neal rarely spent time here. John had called him from Washington a few days
back to arrange to use the place.
 
The car slowed to a stop in front of the small but quaint house, it's yellow
siding not betraying it's true age. Dean reached back and tapped Sam's knee
gently.
 
"Sammy. Wake up lil bro. We're here."
 
Sam stirred and then balled up his fists, grinding them mindlessly into his
tired eye sockets.
 
"What time is it?" He asked sleepily.
 
"Six. You've been knocked out awhile."
 
John was at the trunk now, gathering the boys bags and tossing them onto the
dewy gravel.
 
"Dean? Let yourselves in?"
 
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed for the drivers door.
 
"Typical," Dean thought.
 
"Sam, don't waste the week. Deans gonna stay on your ass til you get in shape.
Don't let me down."
 
He opened the door and without a backwards glance, he was gone.
 
Dean grabbed both their bags and headed for the house.
 
"Come on, Tiny. Let's grab some grub, how's that sound?"
 
Sam grunted an incoherent reply and shuffled in behind Dean. As much as Dean
sometimes hated following his fathers order regarding Sam, he knew he had to
get Sam ready for the next big hunt. He couldn't always be right next to Sam
when things went all squirrely so Sam had to develop better skills to defend
and more importantly, to defeat. When Sam was done wolfing down the breakfast
he had in front of him, Dean stood.
 
"Alright kid, get a move on. Days a-wastin."
 
"But Dean," Sam whined, "I'm fuckin' tired."
 
"Tough. After that shit you pulled in Washington, I'm working you this whole
week. You have no IDEA what tired feels like yet."
 
Without protest but looking defiant, Sam headed for the basement of the little
cozy house. The basement housed a state of the art gym that would be the boys
home for the most part over the next 7+ days. As Dean rounded the stairs, Sam
was grudgingly removing his shirt. His broad shoulders slumped and Dean knew
that this week had the potential to be a "brood fest" if he didn't nip this
right now.
 
"Sammy. Come on man. Cheer up. We have the whole week to just hang out, no
ghost or ghouls," he chuckled, placing a hand on Sam's right shoulder. "How's
about we have a few beers tonight and shoot alittle pool? I think...."
 
He stopped mid sentence as Sam turned toward him. Three long, deep angry
crimson scratches ran the length of Sams chest.
 
"Jesus, Sammy! Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? I could have had Dad
stitch ya up before he left." Dean traced one of the deeper wounds with a light
touch of his fingertips. Sam winced in response.
 
"That witch was in need of a serious nail clipping, wouldn't you say?" Sam said
with his familiar lopsided grin surfacing. "Don't worry, coulda been worse,
Dean."
 
Dean reached up to rumple Sams mess of brown curls. "Come on, let's just spar a
little to warm up."
 
"Fine by me.....Jeeerk," Sam answered, intentionally drawling out the last word
with sarcasm.
 
Dean watched as Sam squared his shoulders and half crouched, face now leveled
with Dean's. His lip curled up in what could only be taken as a challenging
smirk. Dean stood solidly, waiting for Sam to make a move. Sams fist burst
toward Deans square jaw with a flash of precision but Dean blocked the blow
with a flip of his arm. He grabbed Sams wrist fiercely and in one sidestep, had
pulled Sam's arm behind him holding it tautly up the middle of his back. Dean
crouched, driving his knees into the middle of Sams tall lanky legs. Sams knees
buckled uselessly under him. Somehow as he fell, he managed to flip over onto
his back. Catching Dean off guard was a plus and suddenly Dean was fall into
him, straddling Sam's body.
 
"How ya like THAT, bitch?" Sam quipped.
 
Sam wrenched his wrist out of Deans grasp and flipped Dean onto his back,
pinning him to the ground. Dean's defiant growl caused Sam to choke back a
laugh. Sam ducked down to Dean's face, giving him a quick peck on the cheek,
teasingly.
 
"Mwah, big brother. I win. Wanna go again? Best 2 outta 3?"
 
Dean felt a warm flush on his cheeks. Since Sams latest growth spurt, Dean had
a hard time getting a jump on him. Dean hated losing. It just wasn't RIGHT.
Dean bucked his hips furiously against Sam.
 
"Ok Mr. Funny Man, get offa me."
 
"Nu-uh," Sam replied. "'Sides if I let you up, what good will THAT do me?"
 
Dean was fighting anger now because he knew that not only had he lost the
stupid sparring match but he was dangerously close to betraying his true
thoughts. He managed to free his right arm and quickly slung it behind Sam's
head, fingers immediately tangled in the hair at the nape of Sam's neck. Dean
pulled Sams head toward him and fiercely hissed, "Sam, get the hell offa me or
I swear...."
 
He voice trailed off. Dean was noticing the pressure of Sam's body shift
against him, the smell of Sams skin filled his nose. With unbridled guilt, Dean
recalled the last time he had jerked off. His head had kept crowding with
thoughts of Sam, things that the two of them could and should do together. Now
with Sams face pressed to the side of Deans, he felt unsure of how to proceed,
like a scared little virgin.
 
"You swear what Dean? You'll kick my ass? Ha!" Sam said, breaking Deans train
of thought.
 
Without thinking, Dean turned his head towards Sam and planted his lips firmly
against Sam's. For a moment, there was no movement under his mouth and then
with a fervor, Sam was passionately returning the kiss. Deans fingers still
tangled in Sams hair, he lightly tugged. A low throaty moan escaped Sams lips.
Dean shoved his tongue deeper into Sams mouth hoping that would speak all the
things Dean wanted to say. He lightly pulled his tongue back just enough to
trace Sams bottom lip, finding the thickest part and ever so slightly nipping
it. Nipping turned to full blown bites of pleasure as he felt Sams hips start
to grind against his cock which was straining against the worn material of his
favorite jeans. Sam pulled back and broke the rough kiss. His hazel eyes gazed
over Deans body and locked onto Deans. There was something in those eyes that
Dean seemed to get lost in, he didn't know much but what he did know he
couldn't resist the lost puppy dog look that Sam now wore.
 
"Sam, this was probably my worst idea yet....let's just forget it. No harm, no
foul," He rationalized.
 
Sams head dropped with that and he quickly got to his feet, avoiding Deans
sharp gaze. He walked over to the punching bag and gave it a few powerful and
fury filled whacks. Dean exhaled sharply and stood as well. He planted himself
behind Sam and tried to think of a way to fix all this.
 
"Sammy...." he started, "Look, uh....go ahead, let me have it....I deserve it."
 
Sam snorted. "Worst idea yet, Dean? Really? Forget it? RIGHT. SURE."
 
Dean stared in confusion. He had been sure that Sam was pissed at him and
thought him a freak for what just occurred. "What? What do you mean? Jesus what
can I do to fix this?"
 
"You can tell me that it wasn't a mistake, that I'M not a freak for wanting
that more than you obviously do."
 
Dean bit his bottom lip cautiously, "You want it too? I just thought...."
 
Sam's eyes bored into Deans with an intense lust that charged the room. Sam
slammed Dean up against the wall, fingers hooked in beltloops. His fingertips
bruised Deans soft flesh above his hip bones. They resumed the kiss with an
ignited fury. Sam's fingers deftly unbuttoned Deans jeans, zipper being drawn
down quickly. Sam dropped to his knees, knowingly running his big hands down
Deans thighs. He worked them to Deans toned ass, one hand cupping each one. He
dropped his mouth to Deans cock that glistened with precome. Tongue exploring
the sensitive underside of his dick, lightly wrapping his lips around the full
head. He spent a good while just sizing Dean up with only his mouth, then he
used his grip on Deans ass to shove the rock hard cock down his throat. Dean
knew he was close to coming but not knowing if this would ever happen again, he
forced himself to concentrate and will himself to hold back.
 
"Oh FUCK, Sammy. Sammy....Sammy....Sammy," he chanted like a mantra.
 
Sam's moaned around Dean's dick, sending waves of shivers down Dean's spine.
That moan, Dean realized meant without even touching Sam's cock, Sam was going
to come for or with him. The opportunity was too great to pass up.
 
"Sammy, come with me? God...please."
 
Sam shuttered and Dean knew he would get his wish. Their bodies tensed together
and Dean felt himself coming into Sam's waiting and willing mouth. A white hot
light blinded Dean as he came, wave after wave. When the light ceased and Sam
had slowly eased his mouth from Deans cock reluctantly, he stood. Dean stared
in contentment at Sams perfect form. Without a word, they headed upstairs, both
knowing they would need a long and peaceful nap to recover. They reached the
bedroom in silence, neither wanting to be the one to say something to break the
mood. Finally Dean spoke, deciding to test his brother in a joking manor.
 
"Hey Gigantor. Where'd you learn to suck cock like that?"
 
He chuckled lightly.....waiting for Sam's answer.
 
Sam shrugged his broad shoulders. "What do you think I think about when I jerk
off, Dean?" Dean noticed a mischievous glint in those deep hazel eyes.
 
They laid on the bed together and Dean flipped automatically to his side. Sam
was behind him and effortlessly spooned himself against Deans body. Sams chin
rested in the crook of Deans neck. A sigh of contentment was shared and before
another word could be spoken, they were both fast asleep.
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