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He wasn’t use to waking up like this; Really, really wasn’t use to it. Normally, it was in his own empty motel bed, sprawled over the cold sheets, or in the front seat of the Impala, curled up in himself, but it’s never been in the confines of someone else’s arms; and Sam’s were huge.
Dean blinked and looked up, his cheek unsticking from his brother’s left peck. It was like seeing Sam in a completely different way. Sure, he’d watched him sleep, or taken care of him when he was sick, woken him up, looked across the room at the snoring giant… But, being this close, staring at those worry lines between his brows, able to see every soft line of Sam’s lips, it was different. Good different, but different; It was warm.
Sam was half out of it, he was conscious enough to feel eyes on him though. Things would be different from now on and he knew that, accepted it - wanted it even. His body was stiff from laying the same way all night, but if that was the small price he had to pay in order to hold Dean like that every night; it was a toll he’d willingly pay.
The younger Winchester opened his eyes slightly and smacked his lips a little, “Anyone ever teach you not to stare?” His smile was big and warm, followed by a yawn.
Dean grinned and raised his brows, “Not really, no,” He said, laying his head back down, burying his nose against Sam’s sternum and breathing in the familiar scent of his brother’s body wash. He knew they had things to do, a case unsolved, and they couldn’t lay here all day; But he wanted to. Last night had been… Unexpected, but welcome. Hell, he was still kind of embarrassed about his own actions, how… Exposed he was, now.
Though, considering they were laying flush on their sides, bodies stripped of clothes, pressed tight to each other, being embarrassed about how loud he’d been hours before seemed like a second concern, a close second, but still not top priority.
The younger Winchester hadn’t forgotten about last night, the imagery was still definitely in the fore-front of his mind. Talking about it though, he didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he shoved it back.
Sam placed his thumb and index finger on the older Winchester’s chin, pulling his face gently up to Sam’s. He ghosted his lips over Dean’s and appeared to be contemplating it before he actually pressed into him, his lips warm and soft; a subtle way of saying ‘last night was amazing,’ without saying anything at all.
Dean couldn’t help the small sound escaping his lips as he kissed back, fingers splaying out over Sam’s backside as his left leg bent and he slid it up over his brother, drawing Sam’s right in between his. It wasn’t often that he felt this safe and content. It was right up there with knowing that the larger man had his back and that, no matter what it came to, Sam was going to do his best, was going to be there for him.
Laying here, with the arms around him, the heart pressed near his throat, it was impossible to feel any more safe than this. Sam had to know that, had to have some idea that that was what Dean needed.
Sam dropped his hand from Dean’s chin so that he could feel the older Winchester’s skin, his fingertips tracing each of his brother’s ribs gently. The sheer warmth, electricity he felt when he touched Dean this way, there was absolutely nothing comparable to it.
He smiled softly against his brother’s lips when he felt his blood starting to pool in his loins, “Sooner we get this job done, sooner we can get back here.” He didn’t want to, but the thought of people dying while he was laying in bed selfishly claiming his brother didn’t set too well on his conscious.
“We chose the best time to figure each other out like this,” Dean admitted, smiling sheepishly as his hand moved up, touching Sam’s neck and jaw, fingers curling in the hair just behind his ear. In all honesty though, he wasn’t sure if he could walk properly at this point, he could already feel the burn below his spine just from laying down all night, today wasn’t going to be easy; still worth it, though.
“Better late than never, right?” Sam nuzzled his lips to Dean’s one more time before he sat up, his whole body aching in protest. They already had the lead they needed, it was a Rugaru who had already went through the second stage of the transition. The sooner they lit the thing on fire and got back here, the better.
Dean chuckled as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood, “Yeah and, at the rate we were going, it’s a miracle it happened at all.” He rolled his shoulders and bent down, picking up the tatters of his shirt, he’d liked that one too.
“I told you not to get me drunk,” Sam chuckled and nodded towards Dean’s shirt, trying to avoid the more serious side of the topic, “I get handsy.”
That particular mental image of Sam having Dean pressed helplessly against the wall, his lips pushed feverishly into his brother’s as he ripped the shirt off of him wasn’t one he’d soon forget. Sam tugged his jeans up over his hips before his arousal became too apparent.
Dean rolled the fabric between his fingers and felt his cock throb at the thought of it. Sam had always been the more controlled, calm one of them. It was surprising to see him become so suddenly aggressive, and to stay that way. Irony; Considering Dean was always so soft and slow in bed, and Sam was everywhere, grabbing him up, holding him down, wrapping his body around Dean. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about it, but goddamn it was hot.