Chapter Text
The night Sam Winchester received the admission letter was also the night he kissed Dean for the first time in his life. He had dreamed about it, fantasized about it, beaten himself up for even thinking about it, but at that night he finally did it. He didn’t do it out of courage though: he had received the admission letter, he was exhilarated, he was laughing and jumping around in the room like a lunatic, and Dean was smiling at him, the classic “I’m your big brother and I’m so damn proud of you, Sammy” look. So, Sam ran to him, hugged him so tight that Dean might be out of breath for a second. Dean was patting him on the back, saying things like “take it easy, Sammy.” Sam’s hands were still around Dean’s torso, but he was looking at Dean’s face—he was almost of the same height as Dean now, Sam thought to himself—he was staring, too close, but Dean did not turn his face away. That was when Sam told himself “Fuck it” and leaned in to kiss Dean on the lips. Their lips crashed, and Sam did not even know Dean’s lips could be this soft. They were not as warm as he had imagined, in contrast to most romantic novels would describe. Dean’s lips were cool, and Sam wanted to warm them up. He felt that Dean’s lips parted, maybe out of surprise, he didn’t care. He wanted that kiss; he had wanted it for so long. That kiss probably lasted for seconds, but when Dean pushed him away, Sam already started to feel dizzy. He wanted to continue that kiss, until he saw the look in Dean’s eyes—Dean would have broken his neck if he tried.
They did not talk about it after that. Dean said he needed to get some food and didn’t get back until 4 am, which meant that he had stayed out for at least 6 hours when it only took less than 2 hours to walk around the whole town. When Dean came back, Sam was already half-way through his shouting competition with dad. Sam had hit the bunk around 13:30 when he realized that neither dad nor Dean was coming back soon. He had left the admission letter open on the tea table as a surprise for dad and he couldn’t fall asleep after that. Part of him already knew that dad would be furious when he found out about this, but he still hoped that maybe, maybe dad could be happy for him for once. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Dean, about the kiss, about how Dean felt about him. He thought of those moments when Dean would look at him as if he was the entire world, the times Dean would throw himself in front of Sam in the face of any type of danger, or Dean’s overreacted rage when Sam merely got a scratch on the nose. Those were probably out of Dean’s ridiculous principles of being the big brother, of being responsible or a good little soldier who followed dad’s orders perfectly. But maybe, maybe Dean felt it too, more than just brothers, more than fulfilling duties to watch out for each other, more than anything, the way Sam felt toward him.
Dad’s fury was not unexpected, and the tiny piece of hope Sam had kept within his chest was thrown away rather quickly. The words they used against each other got harsh fast and soon they went to even darker places. Sam condemned his father for being vengeful and abusive, whereas John simply told him to go away and stay away. It was probably at that moment that Sam finally got to see the look on Dean’s face: estranged and indifferent, as if all those years of protectiveness was nothing more than an act.
That was the last straw. That was when Sam Winchester decided to pack his bag and leave for good.