Author: Thevulgarvirgin

Prompt: # 48 – Swimming

Type of Story: General

Rating: PG

Author's Website: Thevulgarvirgin's LJ

Author Notes: I would like to give a very grateful thank you to Sarah, who is an awesome better and helped me enormously, you are amaZERing, you're a doll and I adore you, thank you, you, you!!

Diving Into Trouble

Sam shifted through the water, loose limbed and completely at ease in the fluid coolness that surrounded him. True, at twelve, he was a bit husky, despite his father's rigorous training regime. His gangly preteen limbs were only just showing the beginning of the awkwardness that would plague him for some time to come, and left over baby fat made his cheeks rosy and round.
 In the cool blue water, though, Sam was weightless. The form of his strokes surpassed Dean, one of the few ways he could show up his big brother. Sam's graceful movement in the water was proof of the height he would grow into, the power and smooth shifts of his strokes showed his skills in ways that his hand to hand combat could not.
He drifted, calm for a moment, escaping the stifling summer heat. Sam closed his eyes, utterly content, basking in the sun's glow. Then he squinted suddenly at the shadow that loomed over him.

"Little Mermaid, it's time to get your legs," Dean called from his position at the edge of the pool, already dressed for the upcoming hunt.
Sam frowned and let out a disgruntled sigh, making his way to the other side of the pool before getting out, knowing that if he had even attempted to leave the pool anywhere near Dean, he would have been shoved back in and no doubt lectured by their father later for taking too long.
It wasn't often that any of the Winchester men got a chance to go swimming; they'd been lucky to acquire a motel room that had access to a pool. Sam wished he could have spent the time splashing around with Dean. The younger boy shifted from foot to foot for a moment, self consciously staring across the water 'til his gaze rested on his brother. But Dean wasn't looking at him. Instead, the boys eyes were riveted on the skimpy bikini strap of the girl who was laying in the plastic sunchair. She looked over her sunglasses at Dean, smiling at the teen's appreciative whistle. At sixteen, Dean was built, firm muscle and able hands, nothing to sneeze at, himself, or so he kept telling Sam. But then, Dean had always shown an interest in the fairer sex. Since turning sixteen it seemed to be his only interest aside from hunting.
In ways Sam couldn't express and felt even embarrassed to think of at his age, he missed his older brother. It wasn't that they didn't spend time together. Lord knew, they were practically glued at the hip what with traveling cross country all summer, sharing the small space of motel rooms, eating their meals next to each with elbows jostling for space.
It was just Dean used to be his buddy, his companion in building forts, in shared secrets and mischievous games; they'd lived out of each other pockets for so long that Sam wasn't sure to make of this new Dean. His older brother had always been cocky, and aware of his virtues, but now he seemed almost vain, spending so much time adjusting his hair so it was just so. and more interested in girls than superheroes in the comics of their shared youth.
Dean tossed a towel at him and Sam rubbed at his shaggy hair, wondering if he had enough time to shower before they headed out. He carefully made his way around the pools edge ending his walk at his brother's side, Dean slung out an arm tugging his younger brother close to him as they walked back to their room. "Worken' on your tan, kiddo?" he joked lightly, aware of how moody Sam had been of late.

The terrible twos were nothing compared to the terrible teens that Sam seemed to have acquired early. Most of the time Sam was so bright and sunny Dean wondered if he was on drugs or something, but out of nowhere, Sam's bitchiness would surface and rear its ugly head. leaving his baby brother in a broody silence that Dean found even worse than Sam's temper tantrums.
"Do you think we'll stay here long?" Sam asked, completely disregarding Dean's attempt at humor. It was best not to get Dean started because otherwise he'd just keep on with the wisecracks. Sam wanted to get in some more swimming and, knowing his father, they'd probably be leaving after the hunt, just grabbing some sleep and breakfast before they were burning pavement again. Who knew how long it would be before they came across a motel that actually had a pool that was useable?
"Dunno, Dad hasn't mentioned anything, yet." Seeing the frown that clouded Sam's face, Dean made an effort to keep the boy cheerful; he did not want to deal with a sullen Sam for the rest of the night. "He did say we'd stop in by Bobby's or Jim's at some point, so maybe we'll go there, since he hasn't got a hunt lined up yet."
Sam nodded in agreement but didn't comment further, entering the motel behind Dean and glancing at his father's bent head still jotting down last minute notes. "Get a move on Sammy, I need you ready in twenty." John didn't spare his youngest a glance, afraid Sam might see it as an invitation to argue or disagree.
It wasn't that John was afraid of his youngest son, but Sam's temperament of late had been leaning towards rebellious, showing a side that Dean would never have dared express to his father when he was Sam's age. He didn't want to get into with his baby boy. Those discussions tended to end with Sam's sporting a sore backside and John carrying a heavy heart or more likely a terrible migraine and simmering annoyance at his son's lack of obedience.
Sam didn't say anything but, as usual, his silence spoke volumes, and if the glare wasn't clear, his rather rough closing of the bathroom door got the point across. John released a sigh and fixed Dean with a penetrating look "you didn't rile him up did you?" He'd hoped Sam would respond better to Dean's request to get out of the pool than to his Dad ordering him back to the room.

Since they'd arrived Sam had spent every spare minute in the chlorine-scented water, even though usually he didn't have a lot of company. John wasn't particular to swimming, not like Mary had been. She used to just as bad as Sam was now when it came to exiting the water. John often jokingly asked her if she was a mermaid, to which she replied that it wasn't her siren song that attracted John to her. John was quick to point out it was her long legs and Mary was just as quick to smack the back of his head before wrapping those endless legs around him.
Dean might look like his wife, but Sam embodied qualities of Mary that often shocked the hell out of John. He expected Dean to have certain traits of hers. Dean had basked in her love for four years. But Sam had been so young, it was impossible for him to remember those nuances that read like a reflection of Mary. And it wasn't like John spoke of her often enough or in detail, either. Sometimes he wondered how it was possible.
"It's not my fault he's such a girl," Dean said with an easy shrug.

John rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. "Dean…"

Rolling his eyes, Dean moved closer to his father and took a seat next him. "I didn't say anything Dad, he's just being a little bitch as usual."

John choked back a laugh and swiped Dean half heartedly on the back of his head "Mouth."
They looked over the notes for the night's hunt in companionable silence, both glancing up as Sam banged out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "Ready to roll, kiddo?" John asked as he stood, ignoring the slight twinge in his back. He was sure his sons would be the death of him long before the wear and tear of hunting killed him.
Sam's expression was sullen, but he answered with a dutiful "yes sir" as he grabbed up a light jacket. It might be hot enough to swim during the day, but the nights tended to bring a chill to the air. The northern summers weren't like those down south were the sweltering heat continued into the night, unbearable and stifling.

 The next morning, Sam woke up, blinking at the sunlight that cascaded through the motels dingy curtains. The hunt had gone as well as could be expected, if the fact that it rained and they'd managed to get into bed by four AM were excluded. He fumbled a hand over the top of the nightstand next to his bed for his wristwatch, bringing it close to his face to discern the time, half past twelve.
He yawned as he sat up, scratching at his head and glancing around the empty motel room. Stumbling slightly over his oversized puppy feet, he made his way to the bathroom, relieving his bladder first; he then washed his face and brushed his teeth. Sam smiled at Dean as he walked out of the bathroom, seeing Dean had just entered the room laden with bag of food.
"Finally awake Sammy? Got some lunch since you slept through breakfast." Dean sat down at the small table, taking out a Styrofoam carton filled with chicken fingers and French fries for Sam and a burger for himself. Grinning, he ruffled Sam's bed head and was rewarded with a brighter smile from his little brother

"Thanks Dean! Where's dad?"
"Just picking up some supplies, we're heading up tomorrow.
Taking in his brother's slightly damp hair and the water sliding down the leather jacket Dean'd slung over the back of his chair, Sam asked "is it still raining?"
"Yeah, sorry bro." Dean knew Sam had been looking forward to getting in a few more hours in the pool before they left the motel. "But look what I've got!" he dumped out several different candy bars and gummies on the table from the bag and whipped out a movie box from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"The Goonies!" Sam reached across to grab it and graced Dean with another bright smile "awesome!"
"Yeah I thought we'd just relax tonight. I need to pop over to 2B for a little while."

Sam scowled, figuring there was a catch involved, if Dean was buttering him up so much. "What's in 2B?" he asked suspiciously.

Dean's grin was filled with wicked intent. "Two Ds, Shirley Bates wanted to wish me a fond farewell. You going to be okay for a while all on your lonesome?"
Sam shrugged, lower lip jutting out slightly "When's dad coming back?" He questioned, trying not to whine. He couldn't decide if he'd rather hang out alone and be able to do whatever he liked, or if he'd rather have the company of his father, even if that meant keeping the TV volume down to an acceptable level and only one dessert.
"He didn't say but probably late, he went to pick up some book for Pastor Jim and it was 'bout an hour away."
"Why didn't we all go tomorrow on the way?"
"Wrong direction." Dean sighed at his little brother's drooped shoulders. He understood that Sam was bored and lonely being left alone in the room. But sometimes Dean needed a little time for himself. And besides, Dean rarely left his little brother alone for long and he was pretty understanding when Sam ignored him for hours on end while he lost himself in some book.
"Come on Sammy I won't be gone that long!"

Seeing the pleading look in his older brother's face, Sam rolled his eyes. But the younger boy agreed. "Okay fine but we're watching The Goonies when you come back, I don't care how many times you've seen it."
"It's a deal," Dean said gratefully, tossing out his empty carton of food and moving to wash up, punching Sam lightly when he passed by him "Ya know Sammy, sometimes you're not such a bitch."
"Yeah, well, you're always a Jerk."
Dean just grinned.
In his defense, Sam thought as he shucked his towel and dived into the heated pool, he'd tried to entertain himself after Dean had left, but the room just seemed empty and there had been nothing to watch. It wasn't even raining that hard, he thought, as the rain came down lightly and splattered water everywhere,
He's planned to swim for a while and sneak back, shower and get dressed before Dean noticed anything, not that he would when he had Shirley Bates to distract him two doors down. So, Sam simply enjoyed his moment of freedom. It's was close to dark and the air was chilly what with the rain and sun setting but it's peaceful and fun doing something mischievous all on his own.
Sam does laps back and forth for awhile to warm himself up, blinking heavily as the rain comes down a bit harder. Lying on his back he floats, mouth open to the darkening sky, sweet raindrops lightly pelted his body and occasionally fell into his mouth. He must have been day dreaming, because when he opened his eyes next it's much colder. Night has set in and he felt slightly fuzzy, like when he has a bad head cold. Too much time in the water, he thought, heading to the edge of the pool.

Startled, Sam jerks at the sound of his name, "Dean?" he questioned, recognizing the voice.

"What the hell are you doing? I've been looking all over for you!"

Sam shrugged, and heaved himself over the side of the pool, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. "I just w-went for a swim."

Dean's look is incredulous. "Are you crazy! It's raining and dark out. Do you have a death wish or something?"
He glanced around and spotted a lack of towels Dean simply wrapped an arm around his younger brother and guided him to the motel room. Hustling him inside, Dean turned quickly and locked the door. Then he rushes to grab a towel and wraps it around Sam's shoulders, using another to vigorously rub at Sam's sodden hair. "What were you thinking Sam?" He demands, letting out a frustrated breath.
Sam pulls away from his brother's brisk drying. "How am I supposed to answer with you shaking my head around," he grumbled. But a glance at Dean's very pissed off face has Sam ducking his head, holding on tightly to the towel wrapped round him.

"Well then?" Dean gritted out, flinging the wet towel in his hand at the floor with an angry splat.
 "I was just bored, okay?" Sam looked up through the damp bangs plastered to his forehead.

"Okay?" Dean says slowly, his eyebrows raising in disbelief before he grabbed Sam, and bent him over. He gets the younger boy pressed hard against his side and he lays down a furious swat on Sam's wet backside.

Sam wailed instantly, the hard palm hitting like flint, sparking a fire on his wet, cold bottom. He wriggled ineffectively, yelling as Dean delivers several more of the same sharp swats. "Dean!" he practically screeched, the pain sharp and harsh, water droplets flinging off his bathing suit from Dean's strong blows.

Dean stopped abruptly as the door opens behind him. Sam stumbled away from him, his hands moving to rub at his abused posterior. His eyes are stinging with tears as he looks at his father, who is assessing the situation he just walked into.
"What's going on here boys?" John's even quicker than Dean was to lock the door and turn his attention to his sons. Dean is breathing harshly with suppressed anger and worry, the adrenaline still running through him from the shock of coming home to an empty motel and then searching frantically for Sam. He'd thrown his jacket aside when he entered, thinking Sam was in the bathroom. When he realized he wasn't, Dean had rushed out without a thought, and his t-shirt is now soaked, short hair sticking in all directions and a darker blond with the wetness.
"The genius went for a midnight swim in the fucking rain!"

John shoots his eldest a glare at the profanity but readily turns his gaze to Sam, taking in the shivering and quavering lips. "Are you alright?" he asks, reaching out to briskly rub Sam's cold arms. Sam just nods, unable to face either of the older men, embarrassed at the stupidity he's displayed and more than a little worried about consequences of that little rebellion.
"What happened Samuel?" his father asks, giving him the opportunity to own up to his mistake or deny Dean's explanation. Sam took a few heaving breaths, suddenly aware of how cold he is and still desperately close to tears. "I just wanted to swim for a little while, but then I lost track of the time" he gets out finally.

John's hand tightened on his arms momentarily before he stepped away. "In the rain?" He demands, hands going up to rub across his stubbled face.
Sam nods his head again in the affirmative, to afraid to even look into his father's eyes.

John bends slightly, one finger raising the smooth chin of his youngest, Sam's face is still full with baby fat and the slightly pudgy cheeks are pink, the puppy dog eyes filled with tears. "I want you to go take a hot shower, put on your PJs and report right back here, understand?"

Sam's face is heartbreaking and he moves to nod again, but John fixed him with a look and he mumbles out a "yes sir" instead, before moving to collect his pajamas and a dry towel before he rushed into the bathroom, closing the door much more carefully than he had the night before.
"I can't believe him sometimes!" Dean muttered out and John arched a brow at his eldest and asked in a wry voice "oh really?"

Dean blinked "What?" The look on his face was all innocence.

"And where were you while your brother was swimming?" John asked tiredly.

"I wasn't swimming." Dean protests at the tone.
"Dean?" John said expectantly.

"I was two doors down, with that girl from…"
"Instead of watching your brother?"
"Come on dad, he's twelve! I used to watch him when I was way younger than that. And, Dad, this girl had legs up to here" he said, gesturing at his neck and then continuing "and her rack was the size of…"
John held up his hand in a stop gesture. "I get it, amazing anything could fit over those legs." He sighed tiredly; he couldn't blame Dean, it wasn't as if he expected him to completely forget about having a life of his own, what little that could be had with their lifestyle. He'd prefer Dean to stay with Sam, but was sure Dean hadn't left him for too long and he'd only been two doors away.
Dean had been proving himself as a responsible person, especially for a teenager and John didn't want to come down on him too hard. "c'mere" he murmured and had to fight down the urge to smile when his sixteen-year-old shuffled over to him apprehensively, arms tightening at his side, to keep from covering his backside probably.
He bent Dean over slightly at his hip and landed twelve even swats on his bottom and they weren't love pats either. Dean managed to endure with only a slight shifting on his feet. Wrapping a gentle hand on Dean's bicep, John drew his son up to standing position. "Twelve, for all the years you've been looking out for your brother. I don't expect you to watch him ever single second of the day, but you need to check in when you aren't watching him, anything could've happen to him."
Fixing Dean with a firm look, he continued. "I don't expect to have this conversation again, young man, or it'll be a lot more than twelve measly swats."
Dean gave a jerky nod and said "yes sir," resisting the urge to rub away the sting and argue about how hard those swats had been.
John smiled and rested a hand on Dean's neck. "Good man, I want you to pick up some supper while your brother and I have a chat."
"A chat, dad?" Dean snorted. "Is that really what you're gonna call it? Make it sound like a good ol' time," he said with a grin
John rolled his eyes, tugging his son against him in a one armed hug around the shoulders and landing a none-too-gentle swat to Dean's ass with his free hand, which caused his oldest to let out an embarrassed squeak. "Watch it, kid, unless you want a chat of your own."
Dean beat a hasty exit at that, but not before flashing his father a wicked grin, "if your chat runs too long I could always see what Shirley is up to," he said suggestively.
John gave his son a wry look "dinner and back here Dean, clear?"  

The younger hunter's lip jutted out slightly making him look younger than his sixteen years. "Yes sir" he managed with only a small disappointed pout in his voice as he left the room.
John waited for his youngest to finish showering. But he had to resist the urge to hug him when Sam finally emerged from the bathroom. Hair damp, in pajamas, his sleep pants pooling slightly at his ankles because they'd previously belonged to Dean, the twelve-year-old looked young and had the sweet smell of freshly showered little boy. But John knew they had to get through their talk first before any hugging could commence.
Seating himself on one of the beds he motioned for his youngest to come towards him. Drawing the boy to stand between his knees, John gently circled the boy's wrists with his hands. "What were you thinking, Samuel Michael? Swimming in the rain? Not to mention the fact that it's dark out and cold! You know better than to go off without telling anyone where you would be. Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?" came the stern scolding.
Sam's gaze was firmly locked towards the ground, a blush rising at his father's words. He knew it was stupid and that it wouldn't end well, if he got caught. "I'm sorry, I just got bored and Dean…"

John's firm voice interrupted him "Being bored is no excuse, I know Dean wasn't here, but I assumed you could be trusted to behave even without Dean or I watching you." He raised a gentle hand to the boy's chin, tilting the head so the tear-shiny green eyes reached his own. "I understand that sometimes you want to hang out with your brother and he's distracted, but it is never okay to put yourself or your health in danger. I will not tolerate it, little boy."
Grabbing a hold of the waistband on Sam's pajamas, he began to tug them down, drawing a whimper from his youngest along with uncomfortable fidgeting.

"Daddy, no!" John simply tugged Sam over knees, pulling him in tightly against his stomach before grabbing his briefs and baring the small backside.
Sam had all ready began to cry softly and John had to harden his heart against the sound, it killed him to see his children in any kind of pain but the thought of losing them was one he couldn't live with. Steeling himself, John brought his work-hardened hand down against Sam's bottom, causing an angry pink to bloom up instantly. This was not a lesson he planned on repeating.
Dean's spanking had left Sam's bottom stinging, but the slaps his father was meting out left an entirely new kind of burn. John's hand came down again and again, working its way from the top of his bottom to the tops of his thighs, in a barrage of fiery pain. Sam squirmed ineffectively, John's arm keeping him securely in place. He felt awful, his tummy still hurting from the apprehension of the punishment, his head stuffy with tears, but those minor discomforts were nothing compared to the fire radiating from his backside.
"Daddy please! I'm s-sorry!" was the wail, accompanied by more squirming.

John sighed, keeping the swats firm and measured, carefully eyeing the reddening bottom before him "and why is that Samuel?"

Sam kicked his legs in an attempt to alleviate or escape the relentless downpour on his bottom, it was burning heat. "Becauseeeee," Sam whined, unable to voice much more at the moment.
John took pity and slowed the swats somewhat, though he doubted Sam noticed. His backside was cherry red and he wouldn't be sitting comfortably anytime soon.

"I went swim-mming and didn't tell you! owww! I'm sorry!" The contrite reply was muffled somewhat by the blanket Sam was trying to take refuge in, but John caught the gist of it and resumed a faster pace, flicking his wrist and catching the tender undersides of Sam's butt.

"You even think of doing something so foolish again and this will feel like a walk in the park." He returned his ministrations to the fleshiest part of Sam's ass, the muscle rippling back and forth slightly from the strength of the last swats he delivered. "Do you understand me little boy?"
"Yes! I w-won't…never- please!" Sam's voice had long since gone rough with tears, but now the promise was delivered with a stuffy noise and true remorse. John felt his son's limbs go lax across his lap in submission and exhaustion. He meted out four more slaps to Sam's thighs before lifting and turning the boy so he was sitting on his lap instead of over it.

Sam barely registered the change in position, responding almost instinctually to the pain in his posterior, he turned into John, trying to bury himself in his father's embrace. John arms were tight around him, the rough rumble timber of his voice soothing even if Sam didn't catch all the words. "I'm sorry," Sam sniffied, once he was capable of speaking again.
"All taken care of kiddo, I trust you won't be taking any more midnight dives?"

Sam huffed against his father's chest, feeling a little petulant. "No sir, though it might cool me off at the moment."

John chuckled at the drowsy mumble, shifting so he could see Sam's pouting face. "I thought Dean was the smartass."

Sam shrugged, trying to hold back a grin. "Runs in the family."
"I just bet it does Sammy," John said, amused by his youngest and glad the worst was over and done with. He ran a hand through Sam's hair in a comforting touch for both Sam and him, frowning slightly when the door still didn't open. He was almost positive he'd heard the impala's engine.
"Why don't you lay down? No sleeping just yet though, we'll have supper soon." With one last lingering squeeze, Sam untangled himself from John, curling up on the bed to take a short nap despite what his father said. Swimming always did make him sleepy.

John shook his head fondly. The boy was as stubborn as his old man. He'd just been given a world class spanking and was already disobeying orders. John would have to remind Pastor Jim to send out a couple of prayers for him. If this was any indication, the teen years with Sam were going to be a handful.
Sam woke soon enough, once he heard the commotion of John dragging Dean into the room after finding in 2B with Shirley Bates. John wouldn't ask Pastor Jim for any prayers when it came to Dean; the boy was hopeless.

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