| Who Do You Think Of? |
FIC: Who Do You Think Of? 1/1
PAIRING: Dean/Sam
WARNING: Incest, Angst.
WORDCOUNT: Approximately 2200
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I am not making any money.
SETTING: Lawrence, Kansas. 4 years earlier. Sam is 18 and decided to go to college.
PREMISE: They had an argument just before Sam left. This is what really happened.
When you make love, do you
look in the mirror?
Who do you think of, does
he look like me?
Do you tell lies and say
that it's forever?
Do you think twice, or
just touch 'n' see?
-Def Leppard “Love Bites”
My name is Sam and I am eighteen. I know my mind. In many ways I am older than any
other eighteen year old I have ever met. My father doesn’t like it when I won't listen to him. I
hear him and my brother fighting about his desire to join the army. After all, Dad did it and
look at how good hunter he is. Dean wants the training. I want to go to school. I’m tired of
hunting. I run my hands through my annoyingly long bangs. I hate my bangs.
My older brother Dean makes fun of them all the time, he calls them my girlish locks. He’s
always like, “When are you going to get a real haircut, Sammy?”
Hunting is Dad’s passion, his mission. He wants to find the thing that killed Mom. Mom’s gone
and won’t ever come back. I want to find the thing too, but I don’t want to waste my life. Dean
is more like Dad than I am. He has Dad’s drive, his talent. I’m just in the way.
Dean loves hunting too. It is the driving force behind his existence. I suppose I can
understand, he remembers. He remembers that night. I don’t remember anything about
Mom. All I remember is an endless sea of faces. I just graduated from high school and the
only one who was there to watch me get my diploma was Dean. Dad had been off on a hunt
and had returned several days later. He hasn't’t even commented.
Dean came out on the porch to join me. He had a beer in hand and looked pissed as hell. I
wonder if he knows how sexy he looks when he’s mad. I watch him sit and try not to lick my
lips and wish I was that beer bottle. I’m sure he has no idea’t know where my thoughts
sometimes go. He tends to think in a straight line. He’d never consider that his younger
brother harbored a secret passion. In fact, he’d probably laugh and tell me I’m messed in the
head and go find myself a girlfriend.
Whenever I think about my brother’s lips, I get uncomfortably hard. I slouch to hide it, I wear
long shirts a lot of the time and never tuck anything in. It’s safer that way. “What was that all
about?” I ask Dean.
Dean looks at me, his eyes fierce with an anger that sends shivers down my spine. “Dad
says I can’t join up.”
Secretly, I’m relieved. I don’t want to think about Dean in the army. Sure he knows how to kill
supernatural things but he’s never killed anything human before and I don’t want to see him
harden any more than he already is. I shift my hands firmly in my pockets. “He needs you,
doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know Sammy; we’ve been back and forth on this for years.” Dean ruffles my hair. I
hate it when he does that, makes me feel like I’m 3 years old.
"Dad said I can’t go too. He said school is useless right now, that I need to focus on my
training.” I tell Dean with a sigh. I fidget slightly; I know I have to tell him. “I’m going anyway. I’
m leaving, Dean.”
My brother’s face surprises me. He’s spent the last four years waiting for me to grow up,
guiding me and coaching me. He gave up any chance of education to pursue Dad’s quest
and take care of me. Sometimes I hate it when he takes all the responsibility on his
shoulders. He shouldn't, its not his fault. “When?” He asks me, his voice is soft and a little
vulnerable. It scares me. “Where?”
“I got a scholarship to Stanford.” I tell him. “I don’t need Dad’s help.”
Dean takes another sip of his beer and he gives me a funny look. I don’t know how to read
it. “Good for you, Sammy.” He tells me. I know him, I know when he means the words he says
and when he is just saying them. This is one of the times he’s just saying what I want to
hear. “Drop me a postcard, eh? I hear there are some pretty nice pieces of ass out there.
Hell, you might even lose your virginity.”
He winks at me. I know he’s teasing, but he doesn’t know how right he is. He’s always
reaming me about spending too much time in the library and not dating enough girls. He
thinks I lost it when he set me up with a friend of his. I made her promise not to tell. I’m not
interested in girls. There’s only one person who can turn me on just by walking into a room
and I’m looking at him. Its wrong and I know it, but I just don’t care. So much is wrong about
my life that this is one fantasy I won’t deny myself.
I love my brother, I’d die for him. I’d do anything for him and he would do the same for me.
He’s my hero and my best friend. He’s the only one who listens even when he doesn’t know
how to respond. I love him more than anything else in the world and I don’t want to leave
him. “Come with me.” I tell him.
Dean laughs, “And do what?”
“I don’t care, just come with me.” I don’t tell him how it’s going to kill me not watching him
come home every night. I don’t say how much it’s going to hurt when I don’t know if he’s alive
or dead. I don’t tell him how I’m going to cry myself to sleep every night. I don’t want him to
join the army and I don’t want him to let me go. I reach out to touch his arm. “Dean…” He
decides to take that moment to sip on the beer again and my lips part in a strangled moan.
Christ, I can feel myself leaking.
The shock on my brother’s face is enough to jog me back to reality. I see realization dawn in
his expression and it scares the shit out of me. I back off and jump up off the porch bench. I
don’t know why but I start to run. I’m scared as hell. “Shit, Shit…” He knows. He knows. It’s
times like these where I really wish I had taken up smoking to calm my nerves. There’s
woods behind the house we rented and I’m running to them.
“Sam!” I hear Dean call from behind me. “For Christ sake stop!”
He’s caught up with me, I’m not sure how that happened but it did and he’s tackled me to the
ground. “For a genius you really aren’t that smart.” Dean told me.
“Get off me!” I command, bucking my hips and pushing my hands against his muscled chest.
My brother has the most amazing muscles. They are huge and a never ending source of
delight for me. The last thing I want is for Dean to notice… oh god. No no no. My eyes flew
open.
Dean ground into me and I gasped. “Are you sure you want me to do that, Sammy?”
Is he drunk? I can’t tell. I glare at him mutinously. He doesn’t seem to be drunk. In fact, he
seems to be enjoying himself. He’s found out that my cock is harder than his. I grunt and
twist, but he’s got me pinned and once Dean has me exactly where he wants me there’s no
way I’m getting out of that iron grip. He gazes at me for a long time, rubbing our cocks
together. I can tell he’s amusing himself at my expense and I hate it. “Stop, Dean.” I tell him
through clenched teeth. I can’t believe I’m telling him to stop. What am I thinking? I want him!
He does and I love him even more for it. “What’s wrong, Love?” He asks me, his fingers
explore the contours of my neck and come dangerously close to my trembling lips. I can tell
he wants more. He’s holding back.
“I don’t want to lose you.” I blurt out; feeling like the girl he always accused me of being. I
want him to hold me tight and promise that he’ll always be there.
Instead, he pulls himself off me and pulls both of us to our feet. He brushes the grass off my
back and smiles. “You’re just a kid, Sammy; you’re not ready for that anyway.” He tells me
flippantly.
“I’m not a kid!” I want to kick him. He can be such a jerk sometimes. My temper is rising
because I know he’s shutting me out. He’s turned himself off as easily as he turned himself
on. I hate it when he does that. It’s like watching a mechanical doll. Dean was just able to
shut his emotions off in the blink of an eye and I never could.
I want to show him I’m not a kid. I come forward but he glares at me. “No.” He tells me
sharply. “You said no, Sammy.”
“I lied. I do want—“
“Shut up, Sam.” Dean told me. “We’re both upset, we’re both talking shit. You have to know I
love you, alright? This, whatever it is, no, just, no. Go Sam. Go back home.”
“Home.” I snorted. It wasn’t home. It was just one house in a long line of houses. Home was
when my brother holds me in his arms and tells me everything is going to be alright. I’ve just
lost my home. I stare at him, angry, resentful. I want to call him all sorts of rude things but I
know it’s my fault. I’m the one leaving him. I realize then that he’s hurting deep down and it
kills me to admit that it’s my fault.
I know Dean, and nothing I can say is going to change his mind. I turn, square my shoulders
and stalk off. I hear him sigh behind me but he doesn’t follow me. I bury all my feelings deep
that night. I wrap them tightly up and start packing. I am going to California in the morning. I’
m going to have a future and it won’t be with Dad and Dean.
A couple of hours later, I dump my bag on the floor after its packed and turn to see Dean in
my bedroom doorway. He’s watching me. “Here.” He offers me a box that’s wrapped up
painstakingly. “Happy Graduation, Sammy. Don’t lose it.” He tells me.
I stare at him, not sure what to do and realize it doesn’t matter. I open the box and give a
shout of glee. A palm treo! It’s new and expensive and it’s gorgeous. Somehow he’d
managed to buy me time on it too. My eyes shine as I look at him, he knows I love gadgets.
He knows I’ve wanted one of these since they first came out. I hug it to my chest. How’d he
manage to pull this one off, I don’t want to know. I set it down because there’s so much I
want to say.
I reach for Dean and he doesn’t pull away. He lets me step into his personal space. I press
against him, acutely aware of Dad downstairs. I comb my fingers through his hair and he lets
out a shuddering breath. I lean down and press my lips to his. By this time I was already
taller than he is. I love that. At first there’s no response, but I’m persistent. I work his lips
open and am rewarded with a small noise of pleasure. A few moments later and we’re
kissing. He’s devouring my tongue and lips like a starving man. Its all heat and need. I’m
desperate.
All too soon he lets go of me and I whine. “Dean.”
“I’m going to miss you, Sam.” He tells me softly and turns to walk away.
He's made his choice.
I hate him again. I glare at his back as he walks down the hallway to the staircase. I want to
yell at him, but Dad will hear. Dean turns to look at me as he’s about to go join Dad
downstairs. My breath is heavy and I wipe angrily at my eyes. How can he do that? He sniffs
and shrugs and then he’s heading down. I’m devastated. I slam the door and barely resist
the urge to throw things.
The next morning I’m walking down the stairs myself, bag in hand. Its early around six am. I
know they won’t be up. I sneak a glance at the living room. Dad is snoring, passed out. Dean
is awake. His eyes are fixed on the hallway. He was waiting for me. He meets my eyes.
We argue without speaking, it’s a talent we have. I’m leaving and he knows it. There’s one
thing he could do to make me stay and he won’t do it. I’m leaving home. I’m leaving him. I
turn and walk to the door, hoping against hope that he will spring up off that chair and come
to get me.
It doesn’t happen and I spend the next four years away from home, away from Dean.
FIN.
PAIRING: Dean/Sam
WARNING: Incest, Angst.
WORDCOUNT: Approximately 2200
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I am not making any money.
SETTING: Lawrence, Kansas. 4 years earlier. Sam is 18 and decided to go to college.
PREMISE: They had an argument just before Sam left. This is what really happened.
When you make love, do you
look in the mirror?
Who do you think of, does
he look like me?
Do you tell lies and say
that it's forever?
Do you think twice, or
just touch 'n' see?
-Def Leppard “Love Bites”
My name is Sam and I am eighteen. I know my mind. In many ways I am older than any
other eighteen year old I have ever met. My father doesn’t like it when I won't listen to him. I
hear him and my brother fighting about his desire to join the army. After all, Dad did it and
look at how good hunter he is. Dean wants the training. I want to go to school. I’m tired of
hunting. I run my hands through my annoyingly long bangs. I hate my bangs.
My older brother Dean makes fun of them all the time, he calls them my girlish locks. He’s
always like, “When are you going to get a real haircut, Sammy?”
Hunting is Dad’s passion, his mission. He wants to find the thing that killed Mom. Mom’s gone
and won’t ever come back. I want to find the thing too, but I don’t want to waste my life. Dean
is more like Dad than I am. He has Dad’s drive, his talent. I’m just in the way.
Dean loves hunting too. It is the driving force behind his existence. I suppose I can
understand, he remembers. He remembers that night. I don’t remember anything about
Mom. All I remember is an endless sea of faces. I just graduated from high school and the
only one who was there to watch me get my diploma was Dean. Dad had been off on a hunt
and had returned several days later. He hasn't’t even commented.
Dean came out on the porch to join me. He had a beer in hand and looked pissed as hell. I
wonder if he knows how sexy he looks when he’s mad. I watch him sit and try not to lick my
lips and wish I was that beer bottle. I’m sure he has no idea’t know where my thoughts
sometimes go. He tends to think in a straight line. He’d never consider that his younger
brother harbored a secret passion. In fact, he’d probably laugh and tell me I’m messed in the
head and go find myself a girlfriend.
Whenever I think about my brother’s lips, I get uncomfortably hard. I slouch to hide it, I wear
long shirts a lot of the time and never tuck anything in. It’s safer that way. “What was that all
about?” I ask Dean.
Dean looks at me, his eyes fierce with an anger that sends shivers down my spine. “Dad
says I can’t join up.”
Secretly, I’m relieved. I don’t want to think about Dean in the army. Sure he knows how to kill
supernatural things but he’s never killed anything human before and I don’t want to see him
harden any more than he already is. I shift my hands firmly in my pockets. “He needs you,
doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know Sammy; we’ve been back and forth on this for years.” Dean ruffles my hair. I
hate it when he does that, makes me feel like I’m 3 years old.
"Dad said I can’t go too. He said school is useless right now, that I need to focus on my
training.” I tell Dean with a sigh. I fidget slightly; I know I have to tell him. “I’m going anyway. I’
m leaving, Dean.”
My brother’s face surprises me. He’s spent the last four years waiting for me to grow up,
guiding me and coaching me. He gave up any chance of education to pursue Dad’s quest
and take care of me. Sometimes I hate it when he takes all the responsibility on his
shoulders. He shouldn't, its not his fault. “When?” He asks me, his voice is soft and a little
vulnerable. It scares me. “Where?”
“I got a scholarship to Stanford.” I tell him. “I don’t need Dad’s help.”
Dean takes another sip of his beer and he gives me a funny look. I don’t know how to read
it. “Good for you, Sammy.” He tells me. I know him, I know when he means the words he says
and when he is just saying them. This is one of the times he’s just saying what I want to
hear. “Drop me a postcard, eh? I hear there are some pretty nice pieces of ass out there.
Hell, you might even lose your virginity.”
He winks at me. I know he’s teasing, but he doesn’t know how right he is. He’s always
reaming me about spending too much time in the library and not dating enough girls. He
thinks I lost it when he set me up with a friend of his. I made her promise not to tell. I’m not
interested in girls. There’s only one person who can turn me on just by walking into a room
and I’m looking at him. Its wrong and I know it, but I just don’t care. So much is wrong about
my life that this is one fantasy I won’t deny myself.
I love my brother, I’d die for him. I’d do anything for him and he would do the same for me.
He’s my hero and my best friend. He’s the only one who listens even when he doesn’t know
how to respond. I love him more than anything else in the world and I don’t want to leave
him. “Come with me.” I tell him.
Dean laughs, “And do what?”
“I don’t care, just come with me.” I don’t tell him how it’s going to kill me not watching him
come home every night. I don’t say how much it’s going to hurt when I don’t know if he’s alive
or dead. I don’t tell him how I’m going to cry myself to sleep every night. I don’t want him to
join the army and I don’t want him to let me go. I reach out to touch his arm. “Dean…” He
decides to take that moment to sip on the beer again and my lips part in a strangled moan.
Christ, I can feel myself leaking.
The shock on my brother’s face is enough to jog me back to reality. I see realization dawn in
his expression and it scares the shit out of me. I back off and jump up off the porch bench. I
don’t know why but I start to run. I’m scared as hell. “Shit, Shit…” He knows. He knows. It’s
times like these where I really wish I had taken up smoking to calm my nerves. There’s
woods behind the house we rented and I’m running to them.
“Sam!” I hear Dean call from behind me. “For Christ sake stop!”
He’s caught up with me, I’m not sure how that happened but it did and he’s tackled me to the
ground. “For a genius you really aren’t that smart.” Dean told me.
“Get off me!” I command, bucking my hips and pushing my hands against his muscled chest.
My brother has the most amazing muscles. They are huge and a never ending source of
delight for me. The last thing I want is for Dean to notice… oh god. No no no. My eyes flew
open.
Dean ground into me and I gasped. “Are you sure you want me to do that, Sammy?”
Is he drunk? I can’t tell. I glare at him mutinously. He doesn’t seem to be drunk. In fact, he
seems to be enjoying himself. He’s found out that my cock is harder than his. I grunt and
twist, but he’s got me pinned and once Dean has me exactly where he wants me there’s no
way I’m getting out of that iron grip. He gazes at me for a long time, rubbing our cocks
together. I can tell he’s amusing himself at my expense and I hate it. “Stop, Dean.” I tell him
through clenched teeth. I can’t believe I’m telling him to stop. What am I thinking? I want him!
He does and I love him even more for it. “What’s wrong, Love?” He asks me, his fingers
explore the contours of my neck and come dangerously close to my trembling lips. I can tell
he wants more. He’s holding back.
“I don’t want to lose you.” I blurt out; feeling like the girl he always accused me of being. I
want him to hold me tight and promise that he’ll always be there.
Instead, he pulls himself off me and pulls both of us to our feet. He brushes the grass off my
back and smiles. “You’re just a kid, Sammy; you’re not ready for that anyway.” He tells me
flippantly.
“I’m not a kid!” I want to kick him. He can be such a jerk sometimes. My temper is rising
because I know he’s shutting me out. He’s turned himself off as easily as he turned himself
on. I hate it when he does that. It’s like watching a mechanical doll. Dean was just able to
shut his emotions off in the blink of an eye and I never could.
I want to show him I’m not a kid. I come forward but he glares at me. “No.” He tells me
sharply. “You said no, Sammy.”
“I lied. I do want—“
“Shut up, Sam.” Dean told me. “We’re both upset, we’re both talking shit. You have to know I
love you, alright? This, whatever it is, no, just, no. Go Sam. Go back home.”
“Home.” I snorted. It wasn’t home. It was just one house in a long line of houses. Home was
when my brother holds me in his arms and tells me everything is going to be alright. I’ve just
lost my home. I stare at him, angry, resentful. I want to call him all sorts of rude things but I
know it’s my fault. I’m the one leaving him. I realize then that he’s hurting deep down and it
kills me to admit that it’s my fault.
I know Dean, and nothing I can say is going to change his mind. I turn, square my shoulders
and stalk off. I hear him sigh behind me but he doesn’t follow me. I bury all my feelings deep
that night. I wrap them tightly up and start packing. I am going to California in the morning. I’
m going to have a future and it won’t be with Dad and Dean.
A couple of hours later, I dump my bag on the floor after its packed and turn to see Dean in
my bedroom doorway. He’s watching me. “Here.” He offers me a box that’s wrapped up
painstakingly. “Happy Graduation, Sammy. Don’t lose it.” He tells me.
I stare at him, not sure what to do and realize it doesn’t matter. I open the box and give a
shout of glee. A palm treo! It’s new and expensive and it’s gorgeous. Somehow he’d
managed to buy me time on it too. My eyes shine as I look at him, he knows I love gadgets.
He knows I’ve wanted one of these since they first came out. I hug it to my chest. How’d he
manage to pull this one off, I don’t want to know. I set it down because there’s so much I
want to say.
I reach for Dean and he doesn’t pull away. He lets me step into his personal space. I press
against him, acutely aware of Dad downstairs. I comb my fingers through his hair and he lets
out a shuddering breath. I lean down and press my lips to his. By this time I was already
taller than he is. I love that. At first there’s no response, but I’m persistent. I work his lips
open and am rewarded with a small noise of pleasure. A few moments later and we’re
kissing. He’s devouring my tongue and lips like a starving man. Its all heat and need. I’m
desperate.
All too soon he lets go of me and I whine. “Dean.”
“I’m going to miss you, Sam.” He tells me softly and turns to walk away.
He's made his choice.
I hate him again. I glare at his back as he walks down the hallway to the staircase. I want to
yell at him, but Dad will hear. Dean turns to look at me as he’s about to go join Dad
downstairs. My breath is heavy and I wipe angrily at my eyes. How can he do that? He sniffs
and shrugs and then he’s heading down. I’m devastated. I slam the door and barely resist
the urge to throw things.
The next morning I’m walking down the stairs myself, bag in hand. Its early around six am. I
know they won’t be up. I sneak a glance at the living room. Dad is snoring, passed out. Dean
is awake. His eyes are fixed on the hallway. He was waiting for me. He meets my eyes.
We argue without speaking, it’s a talent we have. I’m leaving and he knows it. There’s one
thing he could do to make me stay and he won’t do it. I’m leaving home. I’m leaving him. I
turn and walk to the door, hoping against hope that he will spring up off that chair and come
to get me.
It doesn’t happen and I spend the next four years away from home, away from Dean.
FIN.
