#weecest drabble

They were in the backseat of the Impala, because where else would they be with their dad doing interview for his job and they hadn’t checked into their motel yet. They were sleeping in after driving through the night to get to this new city, curled up around each other in the back seat. 

Dean was getting tall enough he had to bend his knees to fit in the back, but Sam was still small enough to fit without too much geometry involved. Dean had his back against the back of the seat, while Sammy laid in front of him with Dean’s arm draped across his middle holding him securely on the bench seat. 

This wasn’t the first time they’d been left sleeping in the car. It was, however, the first time being left alone in the car after The Conversation that Sam tried to have with Dean a few days prior. Dean had shot it down so fast, hardly giving it any thought. Of course, that had led to having to share a car with a very grumpy, 15 year old Sam.

“It’s just a kiss, Dean, it’s no big deal!” he’d whined in his pubescent voice. 

“It is a big deal, Sammy, and I’m not going there with you, end of story, so drop it!”

That conversation had happened two days ago and Sammy had barely talked to him since. Even John had noticed that something was up between them. His baby brother had asked him to teach him how to kiss, which was sweet in its own way, but Dean would be too fucked up to take Sam’s first kiss. That should be with someone special, even if you don’t know what you’re doing. It was a right of passage. 

Sam grumbled and rolled over, tucking his forehead against Dean’s shoulder to block out the sun streaming in through the cracked windows along with the early spring breeze. He nuzzled his nose against Dean’s skin and Dean brought his hand up to cup the back of his brother’s head. He secretly missed when Sammy had been so little that he’d have to carry him, and even when he was a baby, Dean would have to cradle his head to keep his neck right. Soon enough, his little brother may likely be bigger than him. He was not ready for that to happen yet. 

Wrapping a leg and an arm around Dean, Sam pulled himself closer, snuggling in tightly to Dean. He was sleeping, so Dean let him get away with it. When he’s awake he’s had to start putting up boundaries, there’s just certain things they couldn’t do anymore now that they’re older. Certain things people that weren’t them, wouldn’t understand. 

Sam let out a little noise, and Dean started running his fingers through his hair. He really needed to get the kid a haircut, and soon. 

Dean jolted into the back of the seat when Sam’s lips pursed against his collar bone. His shirt was thread bare and the neck was so loose it hung down to his shoulder when he laid on his side. So the feel of Sam’s lips on his skin was a shock. He didn’t think anything of it, because Sammy was asleep; until it happened again, this time with purpose behind it. Sam was kissing his collar bone. 

“Sammy,” Dean said in quiet admonishment. 

“Let me,” Sammy begged in his cracking, whinny voice. “Please, De. I just want to see what it’s like.” 

His plea broke Dean’s heart, and if he hadn’t been sleeping and holding him in his arms for the past few hours, he probably would have had the balls to tell him “no.” As it was, Dean could never truly deprive Sam of anything he needed. And right now, it seemed, that this was what he needed. 

Pulling his face back so that he could look down at his baby brother, Dean lifted Sam’s chin so he could look him in the eyes. “You get one kiss, then I’ll answer any questions you have, but you only get one shot.” 

Sammy’s eyes lit up like he’d just found Santa putting real presents under their actual Christmas tree. “Deal,” Sam quickly agreed. He licked his lips then rushed toward Dean’s face. 

Dean put a hand on his chest and held him at bay. “Easy, Tiger. There’s a few things first.” 

Sam went to sit up, but Dean shook his head with his hand on his shoulder, telling him not to. 

“There are cues to look for if someone wants to kiss you. You can test these cues. One way is to lick your lips. If they watch you do it, and they keep looking at your mouth, they’re thinking about kissing you. If someone licks their lips while looking at your lips, they’re probably testing to see if you’re looking at their lips to know whether or not you want to kiss.”

“You lick your lips all the time though,” Sam pointed out. 

“Yeah, well, I have dry lips. That’s not the point.” Dean licked his lips, out of habit from talking so much about it. He watched as Sam followed his tongue with his eyes, then licked his own lips in response. 

This was a dangerous game they were playing.

“So when you know you’re gonna kiss someone, you can lick your lips again if you want, because you want your lips to be a little wet so they don’t just rub together and get stuck.”

“Can I kiss you now?” he asked in the way only an innocent fifteen-year-old could manage. 

Dean rolled his eyes, but cradled Sam’s face with one hand. He held his eye contact until he licked his lips, then he let his eyes flutter to Sam responding by licking his own. Slowly, so slowly, because he couldn’t believe he was actually going through with this, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Sam’s. 

His gut tightened, but not in a bad way, and the light flickered behind his closed eyes. Sam pressed just as hard as Dean did, and when Dean moved his lips, Sam mimicked him. Everything Dean did, Sam did. He was a quick study, and when Dean flicked his tongue out to goad Sam into doing the same, Sam’s tongue was right there, exploring and figuring out what to do with this new found skill he could develop.