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Dean is high on adrenaline, and he only wants one thing: Sam. But Sam isn’t here, and Dean needs to find him. Now.
His football team surrounds him as they cheer Dean up, and the cheerleaders touch Dean and flirt with him. Dean enjoys being the center of attention. He doesn't really care about these people or their opinion, but he won't deny being praised is intoxicating.
It’s different with Dad and Sam. More intense. Dad rarely praises him. Dad expects him to be good, always, to give his one hundred percent every single time. And Dean does. He follows every rule and every instruction Dad commands. It's Dean's job, and he does it great. And after a good hunt, Dean can see the pride in Dad’s eyes. Dean doesn’t expect more, doesn't expect words; just with that, he’s on cloud nine. So, what if Sam is a bitch about it and accuses Dean of following John blindly? Sam doesn’t get it.
But the thing is: Dean knows Sam does get it. Dean knows because Sam loves to praise Dean, to give him those bright, shiny puppy dog eyes that show so much love every time Dean does something, even if it’s something mundane, like cooking or checking that Sam has everything for school. Sam wants Dean to feel cherished every day of his life. And yeah, with Sam as his brother by his side, Dean does. Dean is proud and content because it’s Sam. And nothing, not even Dad’s pat on the shoulder or the rare, “Good job, son,” compares to what Sam makes him feel.
It’s like Sam thinks he’s the sun and the moon, and Dean doesn’t know what to do with it. He loves it, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he’s enough. Although, to be fair, Dean thinks nobody is good enough for Sam. Sam is the perfect little brother, a bit of a bitch and a dork, and a charming, intelligent boy who worships Dean. Who could get enough of that? It’s not Dean’s fault he’s addicted to Sam’s praises. Sam and his stupid brain think Dean is a perfect man. So, sue him — he will work for that kind of love forever. And the best part? Sam only does it for Dean, not for anyone else, Dad or Bobby.
So, yeah, Dean wants to be with Sam and see the pride in his eyes, knowing his big brother scored the winning point. He walks towards the bleachers, raising his head to try to find the mop of hair he calls Sammy.
“Hey, Dean,” says Duke, one of his teammates, smiling at him. “That kick was incredible, man.” And then Duke slaps him on the butt.
Dean makes a face, but Duke doesn’t register it. This sport is too gay for his liking. He knows Duke has the hots for him, and though it’s fun to flirt with people, Dean knows perfectly well nothing will happen. After all, he's a faithful guy.
“So, are you going to the party at Steve’s?” Duke asks, and Dean can see in his eyes the longing for him to go.
“Of course, I’m going, dude. Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Great, maybe we could, you know, smoke… and stuff,” Duke says nervously.
“Dunno, man. I don’t think Sam will be comfortable with me smoking weed and shit.”
“He will never know.” Duke tries.
“He will because he’s coming with me.”
“Aw, man,” Duke complains. “He can go somewhere else. There will be other kids his age at the party.”
Dean's smile disappears. “Are you really telling me to leave my 14-year-old little brother alone at a party with a bunch of crazy people with weed?” Does this guy even have siblings? Dean would never. And if Sam wants to try weed and party, he must be under Dean’s supervision because Dean always has to supervise Sam's first times.
“Yeah, well, you could try it.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Dean declares and pats Duke lightly on the shoulder, so he can leave and resume his search for Sam.
“Dean, hey! Wait!” He hears a girl’s voice. And he hopes it's not Kyle, a girl who's been trying to get into his pants since day one.
At this rate, he'll never find Sam. “Hey. What's up?” Dean is not paying attention to her.
“Uh, nothing, just wanted to see if you—”
That’s when Dean sees him, sitting alone in the bleachers as if he wasn’t the best. He walks away from Kyle, saying, “Sorry. Later. I gotta go.”
There he is, Dean’s bratty little brother. He notices the moment Sam sees him running towards him. Sam gives him a smile as bright as a thousand suns. God! Dean loves the kid. How has this dorky kid captured his heart so badly?
Finally, Dean reaches his home. “Heya, Sammy. How’s it going, kid?”
“Dean!” Sam gets up to greet him and says excitedly. “That was awesome! You won us the game.” And at that, Dean’s whole body wants to explode. It feels like all the people fade, and it’s just them. And it’s everything Dean wants in life. He would give up everything to keep this kid with him.
“What can I say, Sammy. Your big brother here is just too good,” Dean says, showing off.
“Yeah, I know. So, what are we doing now?” Sam is looking at him with those precious foxy eyes. “Wanna get dinner? It’s on me. You’re the school’s hero today.” Sam smirks.
Dean hesitates. He doesn’t want Sam to spend his savings on him. Sam’s smile fades, and he knows Sam took it in the wrong way.
“Oh, okay. I guess you already have plans. Steve’s party, right?” Sam asks. “This girl, Kate? Kyle? Told me about it. She was trying to befriend me.” Sam makes a face. “I think she just wanted to talk to you through me.” He’s looking everywhere but at Dean.
Dean needs to go to Kyle and tell her to fuck off, to stop doing whatever the hell she thinks she will accomplish. But he knows it won't do any good. For some reason, Sam feels very insecure about his relationship with Dean. And he doesn’t know why. Sam knows Dean sometimes flirts with the waitresses or the cheerleaders, but only to keep their secret safe. He already talked about it with Sam, but his kid brother still thinks Dean would leave him for someone else. So, as a good brother, he will fix it right now.
“Who?” Dean asks, to show him he doesn’t care about her. “Dude, you wanna talk about a random girl, or you wanna...” Dean smirks. “You know, go to another place to give the quarterback a gift for winning?” Dean asks, raising and lowering both eyebrows suggestively.
Sam's face reddens. Dean can’t help but smile. He and Sam have been fooling around, doing a lot of kissing, hand jobs, hickeys — the Winchesters brothers are very possessive — fingering, and the best: blowjobs. Dean can’t get enough of Sammy’s sweet mouth, and Sam can’t get enough of his big brother’s fat dick; they fit perfectly. And every time Dean suggests going somewhere to be alone, Sam doesn't fail to blush, and to Dean, it's the cutest thing.
Getting close to Sam, Dean whispers, “Wanna make out, here? Where anyone can see us, Sammy? Bet you would love it.”
“Dean, stop playing,” Sam says breathlessly.
“Not playing, baby brother. Come here.” Dean takes Sam’s hand and walks towards the farthest part of the field, checking to see if anyone is watching them — not that he cares if anyone sees them, but Sam does.
When they reach the end of the bleachers, Dean looks around and takes Sam under them. It’s a little dark, but it will do; if someone sees them, Sam and Dean won’t recognize them. Maybe it’s not the best place to take your brother, but Dean isn’t the most romantic guy in the world.
“So, I won us the game, Sammy.” Dean’s voice is low and hot. “Where’s my prize?”
Giving a very suggestive smile, Sam says, “Uh, I got something for you. Wanna know what it is, big brother? Touch me to find it.”
Sam presses his body close to Dean’s and reaches for Dean’s head to pull him down for a kiss. The kiss is passionate, full of lust and want. Sammy always tastes sweet, like honey and sugar. His tongue is exploring Dean’s mouth, trying to map every corner of it, and Dean opens a little more for his kid brother to go deeper.
Sam makes a sound, and it’s Dean’s turn to map his brother’s mouth. He does the same with his hands and explores Sam’s body; his soft hair — Dean loves to tease Sam about it. But he loves it, wants to bury his face in it and smell the sweet aroma of coconut and Sam; his bony shoulders, Sammy’s back, his now strong arms — thanks to dad's training; his waist — one of his favorite parts of Sam’s body, wonderfully diminutive compared to his shoulders, the perfect size to be grabbed by Dean's big hands. Every part of Sam was made exclusively for Dean — and then, the most precious and private part of Sam; his perky ass — tight and firm. Dean still can’t believe Sam has let him touch and taste him. It’s wrong that he, Sam’s protector, has access to his little pink hole, and yet, it feels right. Dean’s the only one who’s allowed to see this precious gift.
Unable to wait, Dean pulls down his brother's pants and underwear, just enough to touch Sam’s cheeks and squeeze them with one hand. They are warm and soft. His other hand joins the exploration of Sam’s buttocks while his brother puts his hands under Dean’s shirt to touch his pecs. Dean is very proud of his body. He got it easy with his face; he knows he’s a handsome motherfucker — brotherfucker. But Dean had to work hard to have a good body with solid arms, impressive pecs and abs, nice legs, and an enviable butt. And all of them are for this little kid in front of him that is now touching his body like he wants to reach every part of it, to know every secret it keeps, every scar, every mole, every freckle — and Dean lets him. Dean would even let Sammy eat him if possible, to live inside Sammy and be safe and sound. Dean would let him because Dean is Sam’s; everything that people think belongs to Dean is, in fact, Sam’s — his body, his mind, his soul, his destiny, everything is in Sam’s hands. And Dean is okay with it; he wouldn't want it any other way.
Pulling his necklace down, Sam wants to claim him even more. Make me yours, Dean thinks. Sam officially lassoed him the Christmas night when he gave him his amulet. Dean wears it proudly every day, showing everyone he is taken.
Dean’s right-hand reaches Sam's cheeks; it’s smooth, hair free as if he were a girl — Dean’s girl. God! Dean’s dick is so hard at the thought.
And then, he finds it: his prize. Jesus, this kid is unbelievable: Sammy is wearing a plug.
Sam stops kissing him to move away a little and looks him in the eyes, his pupils big and dark. “It’s to keep me open for you,” Sam says, licking his lips, and Dean thinks Sam could be a succubus because damn. He doesn’t stand a chance. Sam looks like the epitome of sin, and Dean is willing to go to hell and back for Sam. “Wanted to keep myself open and your fingers warm.”
Sam can be such a prude when other people are close, but the second they are alone and he feels safe, he turns into a kinky bastard. “It’s the least I can do for my big brother. Would you let me? Would you let me keep you warm? Keep your cock warm? Dean.” The lust disappears, and Sam’s eyes are pleading for an answer in front of him. It’s not fair Sam can be like this; in a second, he goes from a sexual demon to a little kid brother who just wants to make him feel good. It’s unfair because Dean is so far gone for both versions.
Still unsure what to say, Dean teases the plug a bit, and Sam groans while lifting his butt to give him better access. “I like the way you’re touching me. You’re always so good.” Sammy is now thrusting his crotch into Dean's leg.
“Samm—”
“You’re so good, Dean. Are you gonna take care of me? You’re the best at it; you always keep my mouth full: with food, with your dick, with your cum.” Sam's voice is thick and full of lust.
Fuck. Where did Sam learn to talk like this?
“You’re gonna fill me up, Dean? Make me complete?” Sam says while sucking a hickey onto Dean’s neck.
And Dean wants. He wants to make Sam his. Mark Sam, like he’s a freaking dog marking his territory. In a way, it’s true; Sam is his territory. Sometimes he doesn’t even let Dad get close to Sam. He knows it’s not normal, but who cares? Dad doesn’t; neither does Sam. Dean would cover Sam with his cum every morning if Sam let him. Make Sam smell like Dean all the time, so no one would get close to him. Cover him with clothes and glasses, so people couldn’t see him. Take him away from everyone because Sammy is Dean’s, and nobody is worthy. Sammy is the only thing in the universe that really belongs to Dean. He’s the only one who can have Sam: his voice, his body, his soul, every single atom. He has known it since his baby brother was born.
Friends tease him about being a mama bear about Sam; fuck them. They don’t know shit. It’s worse than that; he’s the mama bear, the papa bear, the hunter bear, and the owner of the same bear—all in one. And the baby bear, that sweet baby bear, would let him ruin him. It’s so fucked up.
“Yeah, yeah, Sammy. Anything. Everything.” Dean’s blown away; this is a religious experience, and Sam is his God. Dean would give him the moon right now. He'd rip his own heart out if his baby brother asked him to. Dean would make him an altar and pray to him every day.
Dean doubts anyone on this planet would feel what he feels for his brother. The love, the devotion, the want, the lust, the need, even the hate — because Dean hates Sam when Sam does things independently. He wants Sam to rely on him for everything; freaking wants him to be glued to his hip.
“Dean, I want to taste you,” Sam murmurs, and suddenly Dean realizes he has lost his uniform shirt, and his pants are down to his knees.
“Okay, little brother.” Dean takes Sam’s hand to his covered cock. There’s a wet spot in his underwear. God, he is leaking. But soon, Sammy will cover the leak; he will fix it. Sammy can fix everything broken in Dean.
Sam slowly makes his way down Dean’s body, giving Dean little kisses on his chest and licking his nipples. In some of his wildest dreams, Dean gives Sam his milk, too. He’s damaged, he knows it, yet the thought turns him on. He’d give anything to Sam.
He can feel Sam’s breath farther down, closer to his dick. He feels Sammy’s tongue tasting his wood over his underwear. The pleasure makes him close his eyes, but he doesn’t want to; Dean wants to see it all.
“Dean, you smell like a stud,” Sam says. “Hard and strong for me, right? Only for me?”
How can Sam say that? Dean just finished playing a football game; he hasn't taken a shower, yet his sweet little Sammy says these things as if Dean's scent is the best thing in life.
Smiling and nodding, Dean feels his cock get freed by Sam’s hands. It’s a little chilly, but his brother’s hot mouth quickly covers him, protecting the member from the cold. And just like that, his world is perfect; hell, the universe is perfect. He just needs to be united with his brother in one way or another.
His little brother is a professional at sucking Dean’s dick. Sam knows when to use his tongue, when to deepthroat him when to play with his balls, when to stop and look at his eyes while he sticks his tongue out and puts Dean's cock on it as if Dean’s dick was a trophy and Sam's tongue was its ledge.
Dean thrusts as he takes Sam by the head to keep him in place. Sam has his mouth full of his big brother, and Dean just hears the beautiful melody of his brother trying to breathe, moaning, and asking for more. And who is Dean to deny this perfect being something? He gives more; he’s sure that when Dad told him always to give one hundred percent, this is not what he meant. But Sammy deserves it, deserves to be mouth-fucked good. Dean feels pride at knowing he provides. Sammy just has to ask, and Dean will give.
“Gonna cum soon, baby boy.” Dean closes his eyes. “This is what you wanted? Your brother feeding you his cum?” And Sam answers by taking him deeper and deeper. Dean wishes he could freeze time and keep them here, together. Keep this sentiment for eternity. With a final thrust, he empties himself to fill his brother.
Sam takes it all inside, protecting Dean's essence in his mouth, throat, and stomach. Two months ago, when they started this, Sam came home telling Dean he read in a science magazine that cum is full of vitamins, that a shot of it would keep him strong and sharp. And honestly, the two aren't even sure it's true. But if there's a chance, Dean will take it, giving Sam whatever he needs from his body, so Sam can grow big and strong. Curiously, Sam has grown more these past few months. So that's that. Dean likes to joke his cum is magical, and it might be since girls and boys line up to be with Dean, but the magic is reversed for Sam. There will never be a child in this world carrying Dean's DNA, only Sam.
The moaning sounds Sam makes cause Dean open his eyes and look down at his brother, who is still licking his cock, trying to take his cum in as much as possible while cleaning Dean’s dick. Sammy always takes such good care of him.
Taking Sam’s face, Dean brings him up for a kiss. Sam now tastes like him, like he’s always supposed to taste. “Sammy,” he growls, and moves his hands to his brother’s cheeks again, opening them, so he can feel the plug Sam’s still wearing. “Come on, kiddo. Let me see it.”
Sammy obeys Dean and turns his back on him without a word. It surprises Dean because usually, Sam loves to talk; maybe Dean broke his vocal cords or something. Dean would have no problems with now speaking for Sam. But it's not okay because Sammy might be in pain, and Dean hates it when Sam is in pain. So, quickly, Dean presses his body to Sam. Chest to back, cock to ass, just how Dean likes it. “Are you okay, little brother?” He needs to ask. He can’t help it. He needs to know Sam is okay and that he didn’t hurt his baby brother.
“Uh, yeah, yeah,” Sam responds, sounding like he is in a trance. “It’s just… touch me… touch my belly, Dean.” Sam takes Dean's right hand and places it on his stomach. “You got me so full, Dean. I don’t think I will eat for a week”.
Dean breathes a sigh of relief that could have been heard two states away. Sammy is not hurt; he's happy, and that’s what happens when you fuck your brother right. See, Dean knows his stuff, too.
“Yeah? Maybe next time, I’ll feed it to you with a spoon or cereal. Would you like that, kiddo?” He whispers in his brother's ear as he slowly slides his dick between Sam’s cheeks, teasing. “Keep you happy and then help you with your homework. Maybe later we could, you know, see a movie or something? Just me and you.”
“Mmm,” Sammy says, starting to move his ass, and Dean’s cock is getting interested again. “I’d love that. But I want your mouth down there, Dean. I need it”.
Biting Sam’s neck, Dean smiles and says, “Your wish is my command.”
He gets to his knees. Dean bends and opens Sam’s legs, so he can have more room to see the gold at the end of the rainbow. Fortunately, it's not dark enough for him to see the glowing base of the plug. It’s too deep inside his brother, and he feels jealous of the plug. Dean is still waiting to bury himself in Sammy's tight passage. He has a quick, internal discussion in which he concludes that, no, a plug inserted deep inside his brother's hole does not make Sam stop being a virgin. Only Dean has the right to that first time; in fact, he has the right to all of Sam's first times.
Fuck this plug.
Dean pulls it out with a bit of hate, to be honest. And his mouth waters at the sight in front of him. Sammy’s little pink hole is all open. Trying to close itself on something is no longer there. Without wasting time, Dean takes Sam's buttocks, spreads them, and sinks his face inside.
It will never cease to amaze Dean how delicious his brother tastes down there, how strong Sam smells. And while it might be a little dirty at times, Dean will never get tired of licking every part of his ass. It’s better than pie. So Dean licks and licks, and he hears Sam's moans and his words of encouragement to go ahead, to eat him out. “Just like that, Dean, yeah.” “Uh, right there.” “Do that again with your tongue.” “Your hands are so strong, Dean. They are so good at opening me for you.” “Wish you could stay there forever.” “Such a nice and long tongue.” “Dean, please, finger me. I want to feel your fingers deep in me.”
Dean roars at the last thing Sam says and bites his left cheek hard to mark Sam, reminding them they belong to each other. “Mark the other one, too,” Sam demands, and Dean complies.
He plays around Sam’s hole with his fingers, and Sammy moans; he knows Sammy loves that. Dean hears his little brother's happy sounds; it’s music for Dean, a fucking siren’s song. Dean always gives in.
Sam’s hole is now so open it can easily take two fingers. In and out. It's hypnotizing. Scissoring them a little, now he can touch Sam’s delicious sweet spot. All hidden from a predator's eyes. But not from Dean, never from Dean.
“Dean, it feels so good,” Sam mutters, lost in the pleasure his fingers give. “Mmm, I can imagine how good your cock would feel inside me.” Sam is now thrusting his ass back into Dean for more. “I know it will fit perfectly; my hole was made for you, to be around you, Dee. For you to claim it. And I’m just waiting, so you can paint it with your cum.”
Sam's 15th birthday needs to be here now, so Dean can finally get his dick deep inside Sam. Sam would look beautiful, carrying Dean’s seed inside; he’d glow like a pregnant woman. Dean knows it.
Sam spreads his legs even more. God, with practice or yoga, Sammy will be very bendy. Sam was truly made by John and Mary to be Dean’s. The perfect baby brother he asked for when he was a kid — not that he was thinking about all this then. Sammy giving his body to Dean is the cherry on the cake.
“I bet you will be perfect. You, thrusting into me, the way your dick would fit inside me, the sounds you would make, everything would be perfect; everything my big brother does is perfect. Because he is perfect.” See? He knows how to praise Dean. Dean will never disappoint his baby brother, so he enters a third finger in Sam and moves them, touching his prostate again and again. “Yeah, Dean. Yes!”
“Have I told you that you are a good brother? The good job you've done at raising me. No one would do the job better than you, Dean. The best big brother ever. Always looking after me, filling all my needs. Making sure I am happy and content in and out of bed. You know what part of my body to touch to make me vibrate; what to say or do to make me feel alive. That’s all on you.” Dean's soul is in another world; what Sam says to him, what Sam does, everything about Sam makes Dean's body burst. This is what he wants; to be Sam’s everything. He might cry if he didn't have three fingers inside Sam's hole and was about to come again.
And it feels like the second coming of Jesus; Sam and Dean are so in sync that they cum at the same time. Sam with Dean's fingers deep inside him, untouched; Dean, stroking his dick, thinking only of his brother.
No thoughts, just Sammy.
His brother’s hole is clenching around his fingers; he pulls them out just to suck them into his mouth, to taste Sam. He can’t get enough of this kid.
Sam's knees give up, and he’s about to fall. Dean might be high on sex right now, but not enough to let Sam get hurt. He puts his hands on Sam's waist, pulling him towards him, and Sam falls over Dean. This place is not the cleanest; there’s no way Sam will get dirty, not on his watch.
Dean puts his hands around his brother and asks, “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
Sam shakes his head no. “Sorry, uh… I kinda blacked out, man. I think you broke my ass,” Sammy says, smiling, and then he snuggles up a bit on Dean's body with a happy sigh. “I wish we could stay like this. I'm too sleepy to go home.”
Dean’s arms embrace his little brother as if to protect him from the world. “I wish that too,” he says. Then, Dean gives Sam a sappy kiss on his cheek and lets him rest.
Some days, when Dean is in bed with Sam sleeping next to him, he thinks about Sam in the future. At the rate, Sam is growing and the Winchesters' genes, he’s sure his brother will be a gorgeous brotherfucker (Dean low-key loves that word). Immense and majestic body and a cute baby face — yeah, Sam will be a heartbreaker, and only Dean will be allowed to touch him. It’s fair, Dean thinks. He always has taken care of Sam — not only because Dad tells him, but because he wants to. He loves to see his brother smiling, safe, protected, and happy; therefore, Dean has the privilege to touch Sam's body, love him, and adore him.
Dean was the one who raised him, who took care of feeding Sam, so he could grow up to become a man. So, of course, he has a claim on Sam’s body. It belongs to Sam, but it also belongs to Dean.
Ten minutes later, Dean’s butt is numb. He shakes his brother awake, so they can go home. The field is now almost empty. They can sneak around unseen.
“We are already home?” Sleepy Sam asks, and Dean wants to squeeze him hard because Sam is adorable when he's in this state. It's like he’s five years old again.
“No, we’re still under the bleachers, dude. It’s time to wake up. I can’t feel my butt, so hurry up.”
“Awww, man, I was comfy.” Sam groans and gives him those eyes.
Dean sighs. “Okay, okay, just put your clothes on, and I’ll carry you. Deal?”
Dean's heart races faster than a NASCAR at the thousand-watt smile Sam gives him. “You’re the best.” His kid has him wrapped up around his little finger, and they both know it.
After carrying his baby brother bridal style, they get to Baby. Dean opens the door for Sam, and the little shit rolls his eyes. Romance is dead
On the way home, they stop for dinner. And it’s the infamous Winchester luck that Kayle, or whatever-her-name-is, is right there. But she won’t ruin their mood. In the car, Dean started to make silly jokes about everything, and Sam has been laughing free and carelessly since then.
When she comes to their table, noticeably swaying her hips and pushing out her breasts, she’s bold enough to sit next to Dean and ask, "Are we going to the party?"
This chick cannot take a no for an answer. “Sorry, honey. Just going straight home with my little brother.”
“Oh, Cam, right?” She says, addressing Sam condescendingly but still looking at Dean. “Would you mind if I steal your brother for a night? I promise I will take care of him.”
It’s a good thing the only beings Dean despises are monsters; otherwise, this stupid girl would be in serious trouble. However, he hates her right now. He hates when people dismiss Sam like he doesn’t matter. It happens a lot. Sam is the most incredible kid on earth, and people do that shit. Still, a small, tiny part of him is happy because it means people won't pay attention to Sam; he'll still have Sam all to himself. Yes, it’s immature, stupid, and very possessive of him. He feels guilty; Sam deserves better than that, but he can’t stop. It's very telling that Dean loathes people who ignore Sam and, simultaneously, loves it. No one said Dean Winchester was uncomplicated.
“It’s Sam,” both upset siblings answer simultaneously and then look at each other and smile.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Baby brother is the priority. And to tell you the truth, you're not my type. I'm not into snakes.” Dean winks at Sam.
Kelsy, or whatever, flushes with anger and stands up, saying, “Fuck you both. Everyone in this town knows you’re freaks.”
She leaves, and Sam and Dean start laughing because she has a point; you have to be a freak to fuck your brother.
Soon the food arrives, and they both eat and return to laughing and having fun. After finishing dinner, Sam goes to the restroom. When he returns, he looks sad, barely holding back his tears, and says, “I’m so dumb. I forgot the plug in the field.”
Dean reaches out to hug him. “Don't worry, I'll buy you another one later. Okay?”
Sam will never know Dean deliberately left it there. No, he was not jealous of the plug; that’s ridiculous; it's just that it was on the floor and got dirty; he was only taking care of his brother like always.
His words work because Sam smiles again and looks at Dean with so much love. Sam pays the bill as promised, and Dean smiles so hard he feels his jaw will break. His baby brother is the best.
They take the Impala and start their way to the motel while Sam speaks a thousand words per second, telling Dean what he learned today at school.
Dean loves moments like these when they are alone and happy when Sam focuses only on him. Just Sam and Dean.
No thoughts, just Sammy.
★