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The Present...

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“You know, there is a bakery at the other side of town, and the sign said 'best pie for a thousand miles'...” Dean said, turning his face to the side, meeting Sam's eyes. “So...” Here Sam paused, choosing his next words, while softening his facial expression. “Now you want pie?” He eventually asked, knowing that his brother had already made his mind and would make the drive despite the fact that they were both very tired as well as stressed. “I killed Hitler.” Was the immediate response Dean gave Sam, and the younger man let his lips form a smile. Of course that would be Dean's answer. “I think that earns me some pie.” The green eyed man continued and Sam turned his face away from him, his lips forming yet, another smile.


Dean smiled back, smiled maybe for the first time ever since their mother had left. Starting his beloved Impala, he took a hold of the wheel and spoke again. “Did I mention I killed Hitler?” He said, his voice filled with happiness. Sam sighed silently, closing his eyes while he let his head rest on his right shoulder. Damn, he was tired to say the least, but there was no way Dean wouldn't make it to the other side of town.



And honestly, deep down, Sam was happy about his brother. In the eyes of an outsider, Dean's attitude would seem childish, this however, wasn't the case when it came to Sam. Because Sam knew Dean like he knew the back of his hand. He knew that beneath all that enthusiasm, bitterness, hurt and the overwhelming fear of abandonment were all lurking. The young man knew, that they were always there, an inheritance John had given his son. But now, with Mary's departure, they had grown, making Dean shut down and conceal himself inside the thick walls of his own mind, so as not to feel all that pain.


But even if that wasn't a good enough reason for the way Dean had been acting, Sam didn't mind. Yes, even if Dean had indeed been acting selfishly and childishly, Sam didn't mind, because his brother had never been a kid. He had sacrificed every last drop of innocence in the name of revenge. He had given up his chance for a different life, so that Sam could have one. He had never stood up to John, like every teenager does when they are angry, he had never refused to follow his orders, his every command. He had never been a child, all he had ever been, was a soldier.



So Sam couldn't get angry at his brother for repeating the fact that he had killed Hitler. He couldn't even get mad at him for not being so open minded when it came to their mother and her departure from the Men of Letters bunker. He had tried, but it wasn't possible, it had been a lost battle from the beginning. Sam sighed and darted his head to the side, glancing out of the window. 'Did I mention I killed Hitler?' Dean's voice echoed inside his head. The young man smiled to himself and started putting up a plan, a devious, and oh, so sinfully hot, plan. Dean had indeed killed Hitler, thus he deserved a present. And a present, he would get...



Letting his hand dive in his pocket, Sam took a hold of his phone and brought it before his eyes. “What are you doing?” Dean questioned, casting a glance over his shoulder to his brother, who seemed devoted to whatever task he was doing. “Um, nothing important, just checking something out.” Replied the younger man, who was checking the list of available motels in the area. Sam did a little digging, swore silently once or twice, but eventually, he managed to book a room in a good enough motel. It was more expensive than usual, in fact, it was much more expensive, but Sam didn't mind, not this time at least. Satisfied with himself, the young man put his phone back in his pocket and let his eyes flutter close.



The rest of the way to the small bakery passed in a blur for Sam, whose mind was lost in a fantasy. His thoughts were tangled in between silken sheets, silken, yes, for he had just rent an expensive room, for just this once. His eyes, unfocused and dark, were staring at the road, but were seeing Dean's lean body lying naked on the bed instead. Covered with sweat, shaking from all the need, hot and restless underneath Sam's long hands... “Sam, hey, have you fallen asleep?” The young man heard Dean say, and only then he became aware of his surroundings. They had reached the other side of town, and the car was parked right in front of the small bakery. “No, no I was just thinking, that's all.” Sam replied getting out of the car. Dean followed him, and so they entered the shop side by side.



The pie was indeed worth the drive, according to the great Dean Winchester, who ended up eating one pie almost by himself, smiling and muttering 'I killed Hitler', while chewing. And Sam could only watch, with eyes filled with lust and love, as Dean ate and ate pie like he had never eaten before. At some point though, Sam got up and left the small table heading towards the bathroom, his phone in his pocket. Ten minutes later he was back, eyes sparkling under the dim light of the bakery. “So, you think you had enough pie for one day?” Sam questioned, letting his hands rest on the table.



“Dude, this is just awesome! Especially the jam, It's strawberry and it's just addicting...” The green eyed man replied, licking his lips to clean every last bit of the thick, dark red jam. Sam felt his breath hitch as he beheld this innocent movement, for it was anything but such. “So, we should get going, I have to make the drive back to the bunker and you look... Well, for one, you look tired.” The green eyed man said, smiling as he noticed Sam's reaction to his previous movement. “I am tired, and that's why we will not be returning to the bunker today.” Sam declared and Dean was left staring at his brother with his mouth open. “Besides, you killed Hitler, so you deserve a good rest.” Sam continued, lowering his voice. “Sam, I appreciate your concern, but the last thing I want now, is a crappy motel room-” “It won't be crappy, I promise okay?” Sam almost pleaded, putting his puppy dog eyes to use.



Dean raised his head, opening his mouth to speak. “And how do you know that-” But no more words escaped his lips, as he was met with those deep, sweet and yet treacherous hazel eyes... “I do, I do know it, just trust me on this, please...” And as Sam spoke, he could hear the gears of his brother's mind turning, or to be precise, could hear them stop turning. He could see Dean's defenses falling... “Sam, I'm not in the mood for-” “Trust me, like you once did, Dean, please.” Sam pleaded, making sure Dean had his eyes on him the whole time.



As hazel orbs met emerald ones, Dean beheld all the need, all the longing, all the love which was hiding in them and felt his breath hitching. Sam held Dean's gaze for a long moment, letting those devious puppy dog eyes nature had so kindly gifted him with, work their magic. The older hunter then bit his lip and Sam smiled, well aware of the fact he had won the argument. Dean would say yes in three, two, one... “Okay, alright but if you're playing me because you're too tired to be in the car I'll-” “You'll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam answered at once, getting up from his seat.




“Go wait in the car, sit in the passenger's seat, I'll do the driving.” Sam said, hell, demanded almost, and the green eyed man found himself unable to deny his brother's request. Sam paid the cashier and bought a little something from the bakery,which he hid in the inner pocket of his coat before waving farewell to the still, smiling woman. Getting in the car, Sam turned the engine on and drove for about fifteen minutes, without bothering to answer to Dean's questions.



When the car was pulled off the road and the boys entered the motel's lobby, Dean blinked a couple of times. “Great, you have to be kidding me...” He muttered to himself as he beheld the state the motel was in. It seemed to have more comforts than its most counterparts, not to mention the fact that it was much bigger and cleaner than almost any motel Dean had stayed in. When his green eyes fell on Sam, who was a few feet away from him, talking to the receptionist, and saw the amount of money his brother gave to the woman, his blood started to boil.


Marching towards Sam, Dean grabbed him by the hand and spoke, voice high pitched. “I'm sorry lady, but we won't be staying here-” “Don't mind him, give me the key to the room please.” Sam interrupted, nodding his thanks to the woman, who did as she was told, ignoring Dean and his rather edgy, attitude towards her. “Sam-” But Dean was once again cut off this time, by the smiling receptionist. “Your room is on the first floor, and it's the best room we have, which has the comforts you requested for, sir. Plenty of hot water, a good bathroom, many towels, and as for the rest, well, the sheets, the pillows and the bed are...” Here the woman's voice trailed off, her gaze flicking between the two men.


“I trust that you did your best to fulfill my requests as much as possible, don't worry.” Sam replied, piercing the woman with his eyes, making her take a few steps backwards, as she handed him the key. “Room 9 is at your disposal sir, I hope that you'll enjoy your stay.” She muttered, and Sam grabbed Dean's hand, practically dragging him all the way to the room. “Sam, what the hell is all this-” “Shut up and just trust me on this-” “Sam! Why the hell did you book such a motel? You know that we can't afford to stay here, not even for one night!” Dean said, rising his voice, but his protests all died in his throat, as soon as his brother opened the door of the room.


The room was big, the floor was wooden, or so it seemed, and there was a bathroom, an actual bathroom, big, and as Dean had heard, the shower could provide plenty of hot water. But what made his breath hitch, was the king-sized bed, which was occupying most of the remaining space of the room. Dean could count five pillows which were lying on the bed, wrapped in white pillowcases. The sheets were white as well,but when the green eyed hunter stepped inside the room and hesitantly, stretched his hand to touch them, he found himself gasping.



“I wanted silken, but that wasn't an option, so I got us-” “Sateen sheets?” Dean asked, wanting his voice to sound annoyed, but it ended up sounding surprised and filled with joy and anticipation for what Dean knew was yet to come. “Yes, they're soft on the edges, and rather heavier than most types of sheets, and the feeling you get when you lay on them, that lustrous smoothness, it's just great, it's almost as though you're touched by a thin layer of satin, hence the name sateen. Or that's what I've read, I don't know if-” “Sam, you're babbling, and you're babbling a lot.” Dean said, fixing his eyes on him.


“Yeah, sorry, I'm just-” “You gave all the money you had managed to gather for this room?” Dean asked as he let his gaze wander around the bedroom. “Come on Dean, the money are not such a big deal.” Sam replied, but the older man wouldn't have that. “You did, didn't you? And what about that old book you wanted to buy, the one with the ancient spells for-” But Dean could not utter another word, as Sam shielded his lips with his own, moaning deep in his throat as he tasted strawberry on them. “Screw the book, screw the money, screw it all Dean, you just killed Hitler, for the love of God.” Sam muttered in the kiss, his long hands pulling Dean's jacket off of his shoulders.


“So this is what this is about? You said nobody would believe me if I was to tell them.” Dean replied, tension slowly leaving his body. “Yeah, but like you said, I saw it, so stop your nagging and go take a shower, cause you stink dude.” Sam muttered, stepping away from his brother. “Huh, right, and let me guess, you have a plan inside that head of yours am I right?” “Maybe... Maybe not, now get in the freaking shower Dean.” Sam answered back, eyeing his brother yet again. Dean let his hands fall to his sides as he sighed in defeat, shutting the door of the room with the back of his boot. Getting off of his clothes, save his underwear in a few minutes, Dean made his way to the bathroom, before halting by the door to momentarily look at his brother, who at that moment, was getting off his shoes.



“You're gonna get in, or what?” Sam questioned, but Dean remained silent for a long moment. His green eyes flicked between his brother and the floor, as his mind was trying to understand the real reason behind Sam's decision, well, apart from the obvious one that is. “You can always ask you know.” Sam said,speaking after a minute of silence. Dean darted his head to his right, surprised for a split second, looking at his younger sibling as though Sam wasn't supposed to be in the room.


“Ask what?” Dean said, voice tight, eyes narrowing. “Whatever it is that you're wondering about. In fact, I'd prefer that, because I can hear the gears of your mind turning, and dude are they rusty...” Sam replied, chuckling as he got up from the bed. “Seems to me, that you're getting old.” The young man continued, hand ghosting over Dean's chest. “Shut up, you bitch!” Dean replied at once, trying to sound annoyed, but ending up sounding anything but.


With a soft pat on the lips, Sam pushed his brother in the bathroom, and stepped in it himself, as soon as Dean had exited it, a few minutes later. Sam took his time in the bathroom, letting the hot water wash over him, wash every corner, every curve, while making sure to cover his mouth with his palm, to muffle any moans which could, and would, if given the slightest chance, escape his lips. Moans yes, for with his free hand, Sam made sure to open himself up for Dean as much as possible. It was an act Dean would never overlook, an act Sam was grateful that Dean was so keen on performing, but this time, Sam didn't want to waste time on it.



The young man let his eyes flutter close and imagined Dean lying on the bed for yet another time. Taking in a calming breath, he withdrew his fingers from his entrance, and the very next second squeezed the base of his cock so as to hold himself together. Wrapping his lower half with a towel, Sam exited the bathroom, making sure to make enough noise to draw Dean's green eyes on him. “Took you long enough, Samantha...” The green eyed man muttered, but the words died in his throat as soon as he took a better look at Sam.


Sam's long hair were damped with water, which was dripping down, small shiny diamond-like drops were running down his fine neck, moving further along his well shaped chest. Some of them were halting, as they were reaching those hardening nipples which Dean loved to play with. The rest of the small drops of water moved even further down, reaching his stomach and his navel, making Sam choke a small laughter, as his muscles cramped ever so slightly at the feeling of water running on them.


Another part of his body cramped as well, but not due to the sensation of water on it, but due to the fact that Dean's emerald green eyes were moving along the length of Sam's body, moving down, following the dripping water. But those green gems suddenly stopped moving, as they reached Sam's hips, for their attention was drawn to Sam's very much alive cock. Swallowing hard, Dean managed to speak. “Now I see why you brought us here Sammy.” He said, lips turning to a sinful smile. “Do you need my help baby boy?” The green eyed man teased, tension and stiffness leaving him even more with every passing second.



“How about you lay down on the bed and let me take the reigns this time?” Sam replied, letting his voice drop an octave if not more. Dean raised an eyebrow, while licking his lips. “Take the reigns huh?” Dean muttered, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it on the chair next to the bed. “Like it when you get all dominant, Sammy...” Dean said, hands moving down to undo the buckle of his belt. “Will you let me Dean?” Sam asked again, as he took a few steps forwards, placing himself right in front of his brother, his long hands taking hold of Dean's shorter, but equally strong ones, preventing them from finishing their task.


Dean stood still for a split second, as love and adoration filled his heart. Even after all these years, even after all the things they had tried, cock rings, plugs, ties and ropes and blindfolds, even after all those times they had made love, even after everything, Sam would still stop to ask permission from Dean, just like the very first time Sam had ever topped. Because those times were rather rare, for Sam knew that his brother needed to be in control. And if he wanted to be honest with himself, the younger man had no problem whatsoever with that.



But there were times like this, when Sam had some kind of surprise for his brother, that he would ask to be in control, at least for the first part. “Dean?” The young man asked again, getting Dean out of his own head and back to the present. The older hunter moved his hand within Sam's grasp, taking a hold of it, so that they were touching palm to palm. Raising his head ever so slightly, Dean was met with those hazel eyes he adored...



“The reigns are all yours baby boy, and so am I.” Dean muttered, leaning forwards, covering the distance which was separating them, claiming Sam's puffy lips with his own. Sam moaned, low and deep in his throat, tangling his fingers with Dean's,not caring for the chick-flick moment he was experiencing. Feeling Dean's tongue licking his lips asking for access in his mouth, Sam ever so slightly pushed him backwards, breaking the kiss.



“Lay with your back on the bed and I'll be right back okay?” Sam muttered, gasping for breath. Dean chuckled and did as he was asked to, he lay on the bed, feeling himself sinking in an ocean of sateen sheets and pillows. He let himself caress the sheets, letting his fingertips ghost over them. His eyes fluttered close as the slight coolness of the sateen met his skin. Soon however, Dean had to turn his attention to his cock, which was trapped in his jeans and so the hunter moved his hands to undo his belt. But before he could do anything else, he felt Sam's weight settling on the bed next to him.


“No cheating jerk...” The younger man rumbled, lips barely touching Dean's right ear, his hot breath sending shivers down the other man's spine. As Sam's lips nipped at his ear, Dean felt something rather thick and sticky on him and momentarily tensed. “Sam, what-” “Close your eyes and lay back.” The younger man said, as he settled himself over Dean, removing the towel which was still hanging around his waist as he spread his long legs over the older man's lower half. To Sam's pleasant surprise, his brother did as he was told for yet another time, letting a low moan escape his lips, as he let himself sink even more in those sheets.


Smiling to himself, Sam brought the jar he had bought from the small bakery next to him, placing it on the mattress. Diving his index finger in it, the younger man spread the thick red liquid on his lips and bend forwards, brushing them on the inside of Dean's neck. “S-Sam...” “Keep your eyes closed Dean, I'm right here alright?” Sam muttered, his cock hardening even more as he saw Dean pushing his head further into the pillows, allowing his brother better access to that spot between his neck and shoulder.


Sam nipped and kiss all along the length of Dean's neck, and the older man groaned in frustration and anticipation. The younger man used his forearms to balance himself and pressed the tips of his fingers of his right hand in the jar, coloring them red. “I'm gonna touch your lips with my fingers okay?” Sam said, and felt Dean's lips nipping at his fingertips as soon as he made the move. “God Sam, is that...” Dean mumbled, eyes flying open at the taste of strawberry marmalade on his lips. His green orbs were dilated, and their color darkened as Dean slightly bowed his head to look at his neck.



“Sam, that's the-” “The jam with which your pie was filled. You were right you know, it is indeed addicting.” Sam whispered, leaning forward, capturing Dean's lips with his own, letting his brother deepen the kiss this time, letting him lick every bit of jam from his own lips. “Dart your head upwards for me.” Sam asked and the very next second, his sinfully skilled mouth and tongue were on Dean's neck, leaking the jam from his skin, extracting moan after moan from the depths of Dean's throat. “Oh shit, Sam... Baby boy...” Dean muttered, grabbing fistfuls of the cool sateen sheets.



Sam took more of the red jam in between his fingers, painting it on Dean's muscular chest and abdomen as though they were a canvas, coloring the flushed skin red, before licking every bit of the so called 'paint', with his tongue, making the older man shudder underneath him. Sam's swift hands traveled downwards, undoing Dean's buckle and belt, pushing down the pair of jeans and underwear the older man had wore not half an hour earlier, when he had exited the bathroom. “Son of a bitch.... Sam, Sammy, use your hands too...” Dean rasped in between ragged breaths, as he opened his eyes to see his brother pounding above him.



Sam of course, was more than willing to obey to his brother's request. Spreading his legs open even more, Sam dived his fingers in the jar yet again and then let them linger on Dean's lips. The older man growled deep in his throat, as he licked Sam's long fingers. The younger man let his hands travel all over Dean's front, he got his hard nipples in between his long fingers of his right hand, while he caressed his abdomen with his other hand. And as the green eyed man moaned again, Sam saw his fantasy becoming reality. Dean tossed his head back as he took in a sharp breath while his body cramped with anticipation beneath Sam's hands.


The younger man felt pre-come oozing out of his own member and heard Dean gasping as it dripped down to his stomach. Sam used a little more jam, letting it fall on Dean's chest, and he then, almost massaged the skin, working the red liquid with his hands. His hazel eyes widened, as all the room seemed to fade away and all his eyes could lock on to, was Dean, who was yearning for release and stimulation for his pulsing cock. Dean, whose skin was somehow shining, glowing even, as a thin layer of sweat was covering it. And when Sam leaned over, licking Dean's chest, he just lost his mind.


Sweet strawberry, he tasted, sweet and yet somehow saltier than usual. God, Sam could go nuts with lust. Both men moaned as they felt pre come now oozing steadily out of their members, and Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, pushing him away from his now clean chest. Feeling Dean's breath on the top of his head, Sam moved downwards on the bed, taking Dean's cock in his hands, making his brother squirm. “Sam, what, wait, what are you doing?” Dean rasped, eyes hazed by lust and need, voice tight.


Sam did not answer however, he instead lined himself above Dean's now swollen, licking cock. “What does this look like?” He managed to utter, while taking in a deep calming breath. Before Sam could move yet another inch though, Dean grabbed him by the shoulders and reversed their positions on the bed, pinning the younger hunter on it, while he was hovering above him. “Dean what the hell-” “When have we ever done this without me opening you up?” The other man rasped, and Sam's eyes softened as they beheld the never-ending affection Dean felt towards him.


“This is for you-” “So what Sam, are you just going to ride me dry, and unprepared?” But the green eyed man couldn't speak any longer, as Sam shielded his mouth with his one hand, while with his free one, he guided Dean's right hand to his entrance, letting the older man circle his loosened rim. Dean's eyes flew open in realization and his cock twitched, almost painfully, in between his legs. “When?” He uttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “In the shower.” Was all Sam managed to say, as he felt Dean manhandling him on the bed. “God Sam, Sammy...” Dean whispered.


Dean then arose to his knees, dragging his brother along with him, turning Sam around so that they were facing one another. Sam understood what the older man had in mind, so he once again settled himself over him, opening his legs even more, practically sitting on Dean's lap, lining himself over his brother's licking cock. Dean pushed them both towards the headboard, stopping when Sam's back touched it. Sam opened his eyes, and looked at Dean, who placed his hands on each side of Sam's lean waist, so as to keep him balanced.


This was the best they had come up with to replace having sex while standing, for Dean's muscles could no longer hold San's full weight. Yeah, they were getting kind of old, one would say. But little did the brother care about it.The younger hunter blinked, inhaling deeply and then pushed himself downwards, feeling the head of Dean's thick member pushing at his entrance.



Pre-come did some good on easing the way, but Sam didn't mind the burn his muscles were feeling, as he kept going down, taking in Dean's pumping cock in one movement, not bothering to stop half the way, like Dean did every time. Gasping soundly, Sam let his eyes fall close, while he wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, bringing them so very close they had no choice but to breathe each others' breaths.


“Shit, shit...” Sam rasped through clenched teeth, as he felt every inch of Dean's cock inside of him. “Sam easy, easy baby boy-” “Dean, I'm not gonna break.” The younger man replied, lashing his hands backwards, grabbing the headboard so as to start moving. At the slightest sign of movement, Dean felt his body shuddering, as though it wasn't his own. “God Sam, son of a bitch... Baby boy you're awesome...” the green eyed man rasped as he felt Sam moving along his length. Moving slowly at first, Sam let his inner muscles relax a little, but as he thrust down for the third time, Dean thrust upwards, the head of his cock, meeting Sam's prostate.



“Shit, Dean, there...” Sam said, voice loud and deep, and Dean used his hands to slightly move Sam's body to the left. “Sam, baby boy, shit so fucking awesome...” Dean replied, grabbing the jam with the jar, diving the fingers of his right hand in it. Tossing it aside as soon as his fingers had plenty of jam on them, Dean pressed his palm on Sam's chest, drawing lines with his finger. “Damn, Dean... Dean I need-” But Sam couldn't speak anymore, for Dean replaced his hands on Sam's waist, while burying his head on his chest, licking it clean.


“Sammy, so hot...” The older man muttered as Sam gave another thrust, using much more force than before, jolting in Dean's arms, as his prostate was once again slammed on the head of Dean's cock. Dean let his hand travel upwards again, loving the fact that Sam had both of his own hands occupied, thus couldn't stop his movements. Spreading his fingers wide open, Dean let them linger on Sam's long neck, feeling the beating of his heart. “Dean, I'm not going to last long, I'm sorry...” The younger man muttered, and only then did Dean felt that his balls were way too heavy and that his cock was painfully full, screaming for release.



“Sorry? God, only you could be sorry... Sorry, of all things you could say, you're sorry...” Dean replied, letting his eyes flutter close and his hand move down, taking a hold of Sam's pumping cock. “Shit Dean, God...” Sam rasped, but the older man didn't quite hear the words, as all his senses seemed to be drown on his cock and on that sweet, sinfully sweet heat which was surrounding it. It felt so familiar, so warm and nice, felt like home. And home it was, for Dean belonged with Sam. Or as he saw it, Dean belonged to Sam. “Dean, I'm... I'm gonna-” “Come Sam, let go, come.” Dean urged, as he claimed Sam's lips.


“No, I want to feel you-” “You will ,baby boy, come for me, don't hold back.” Dean replied, and then growled as he felt Sam's inner muscles closing in around his own cock like a vice, locking them together. “Son of a... Sam!” Dean yelled as his own orgasm hit him at almost the same time as Sam's, blurring his vision. The older man felt Sam darting his head back and managed to move his hand in time, placing it behind Sam's head, so that it wouldn't end up crushing on the headboard. His other hand was working Sam through his climax, giving strong strokes, making him moan Dean's name like a record.



Dean felt his own balls emptying inside of Sam for what could be one fucking minute, and he couldn't stop his body from slamming on Sam's, crushing the younger man's back on the headboard as it did so. Sam let his hands fall from the headboard then, hesitantly bringing them around Dean's shoulders, without touching them. The older man was trying to even his breathing and had clenched the fingers of his right hand on Sam's hair, making his head lean in the spot between Dean's neck and shoulder.


“Sammy...” Dean muttered, voice now calmer than before. “Yeah?” Answered the other man, his hands hovering over Dean's back. “I think I should kill Hitler more often...” Dean said, and the very next second Sam's warm laughter echoed within the room. Dean got off and out of Sam then, leaning with his back on the mattress next to him, covering them both with a spare sheet which lay on the chair next to the bed. “We probably need a shower, because I've made quite a mess...” The young man said, eyed to his side at Dean, whose eyes were on the ceiling.


“Dean? What is it-” “I would say I'm sorry, but I guess it wouldn't matter.” The green eyed man muttered, turning his head away from Sam, who stayed still, moving only his hand so that it was only inches from Dean's. “Sorry? For what-” But Dean didn't let him speak. “Yeah, it wouldn't matter. So... I'll just say thanks. Thank you for all this... Thanks for... being patient... Thanks for... For being here. Thank you for being you.” Dean whispered, his fingertips brushing Sam's. A shiver run down Sam's spine then, and the man doubted it was caused by his orgasm.



Hazel eyes blurred, but Sam's lips turned to a smile, yet no words escaped them. Dean had spoken but a few words, yet not all of the words he really wanted to speak. 'Thank you for your patience...' Sam sighed, knowing this was about their mother. The fingers of his hand found Dean's and locked themselves around them, in a vice-like hold. The two men didn't look at one another, for they knew they didn't have to. “You're welcome Dean...” Sam replied after a while, during which no words were spoken.


“You're welcome...” Sam replied, tightening his hold on Dean's fingers. And there they stayed, lying on and under, sateen sheets, lying side by side, looking at opposite directions, for they couldn't look at one another just yet. Breathing evenly, smiling at themselves. Lying there, holding hands under the sheets. Oh, what a chick-flick moment... Oh, what a pity that it didn't matter...


And so, there they lay.
With those words echoing over and over again in their minds.
'Thank you for being you.' Or better rephrased, 'I love you.'
'You're welcome...' Or better rephrased, 'I love you too.'
And so, there they lay.