There had to be some sort of comedic karma or universal justice or some sort of twisted humor from a trickster who delighted in their torment.
Gabriel was dead, Dean was sure, but at the same time this made it seem a bit like his m.o..
“Thirteen god damn years of being alone in motel rooms, six of those years in an enormous and empty bunker, and now, now when the bunker is filled with people, including our mother and the kid you’ve adopted, now is when we decide to do this.” Dean told the ceiling.
From the corner of his eyes he could see Sam stick his head out of the bathroom, taking his toothbrush out enough to speak. “What are you talking about?”
Dean groaned and sat up enough to look at his brother, taking a moment to take in Sam barefoot, wearing pajamas, and a bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth. “I’m talking about...this.” he said gesturing to between them. “You and me, us.”
Sam's lips twitched slightly as he fought the urge to smile, ducking back into the bathroom for a moment to finish. He heard Sam spit out and then the water running for a moment before being turned off and he came back into the room. “What about us?”
“That we decide to do this,” he gestured between them again. “At the worst time, when we have absolutely no privacy in our damn home.”
“It's just how it happened Dean.” Sam said sitting down on the edge of the bed, turned towards his brother. “So, what now?”
They weren't going to have sex, that much they had agreed on. This, whatever this was, was still tentative enough that sex wasn't going to be the first or the second or the third thing to happen. Tonight, they just wanted to be with one another in privacy and just have their time with each other.
The two stared at one another for a long quiet moment before Sam moved first, he took his own shirt off and threw it far enough to land on the chair across the room. Dean copied him, trying to hide the fact that he was nervous.
They were just going to touch one another, nothing sexual, nothing sensual. Just...touch. They've touched each other plenty of times over the years just almost all those times they had the excuse of the other being hurt and therefore needed help of some kind.
This was just...touching. Getting used to the others touch on them. Seeing a body they've seen countless times but this time, taking each second to memorize things they already knew.
Dean swallowed hard and didn’t let himself think too much about it as he reached out and set his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam jumped but didn’t pull away from him, letting Dean slowly stroke over his shoulder down his arm.
Sam watched him for a moment before he reached out and did the same, bringing both hands up to slowly stroke at Deans skin as Dean did the same.
“Why the hell are you so skinny?” Dean mumbled, running his hands over Sams sides and stomach, for fucks sake he almost felt if he gripped too tightly Sams waist would break.
Sam breathed out a laugh. “I’m not that skinny.” he said, reaching out to stroke his hands over Deans arms as well.
“Yes you are, and I know that you eat.” Dean said making a face when he remembered how some of the other world people would cook in their kitchen and bring it to Sam like offerings to a revered being.
Sam always accepted whatever dish they made with a smile and a thankful nod and only Dean saw that he never ate what they brought him, he always put it to the side and later into the refrigerator so that someone else would eat it but he never did.
Dean wasn't sure why, maybe he didn't trust the other people, Dean sure didn't, or maybe their cooking just sucked but he did have one big victory in that regard.
Sam always ate whatever Dean brought to him, whether it was a snack or a real meal, he never turned it away and always ate it either at once or slowly as he did whatever he was doing, whether that was research or something else.
So yeah, Dean knew what Sam ate, he was always the one bringing it to him for almost all three meals, so he knew that Sam was eating, but looking at him made him rethink that.
Sams fingers lightly stroked at Deans face, smoothing out the lines that had appeared there, smiling softly. “What are you thinking about?”
“About how when we get home I’m going to cook three fat steaks and you're going to eat every single one of them.” Dean told him, smiling and relaxing when Sam laughed at that.
“I can't eat three steaks in a row like that.” Sam said, shifting a bit closer so that he could be closer to his brother.
“Yes you can, I believe in you.” Dean told him, his hands slowly curled around Sams hip bones. “Look at this, you're skin and bones, you need to eat.”
“I already told you, I eat.” Sam said, still laughing softly. “You're being ridiculous.”
Dean smiled at him as well, hands moving towards Sams lower back. His smile faded when he felt a scar of skin there, right on the base of his spine. He stopped but then pressed his fingers a bit closer to it.
“You're shaking.” Sam whispered to him, and it took that to realize that he was in fact shaking slightly.
“This is...where it happened.“ Dean murmured, moving to press his forehead against Sam's shoulder, still shaking.
Sam moved enough to wrap his arms around his brother completely. “Yeah, it is.” he murmured as well. “Its old now.”
Dean pressed his hand to it completely, pressing his heel down on it. “Do you ever...feel it? Or remember what happened?”
Sam hesitated and then shrugged slightly. “Its kinda hard to remember sometimes.” he said quietly, moving his head to press it against Deans. “Being in the cage...it was a lot of time and sometimes I forget things, or I can't remember things.” he moved his head to brush his lips against Dean's temple. “But I remember what happened after.”
Dean closed his eyes and for a moment that scene played again in his mind, Sam limping towards him and that other one appearing from nowhere and stabbing his brother in the spine, right in front of him while he was powerless to do anything.
Dean swallowed hard, his fingers moving over the scar softly. “One of the worst nights in my life.” he whispered. “You really don't remember it?”
“It wasn't a lot to remember.” Sam said honestly. “I remember...” his voice faded for a moment as he tried to think of what had happened. “I remember Azazel making us fight and I remember walking away. I remember...seeing you, and walking to you but then...it kinda all goes black.” he curled more into Dean. “I remember you more than getting stabbed, I remember just...wanting to get back to you and being so happy when I saw you.”
At that Sam moved his head enough that he could brush his lips against Dean's neck, making him shiver slightly at the feeling. He kissed his neck gently, hands stroking over his back.
“Besides, I’m right here.” Sam murmured. “I’m here, I’m alright, I’m alive.”
Dean couldn't help himself, bringing his hand up and around to press it against Sams check to feel his heart beating for himself, needing that extra bit of reassurance.
Sam's hand came up as well to grip at the hand at his chest, holding onto it. “I’m okay Dean.”
“Yeah I know.” Dean murmured. “Just...want to make sure.”
He could feel Sam smiling and when he looked up he saw that he was in fact smiling, a soft look on his face.
“What?” Dean asked, feeling a slight flutter in his chest despite everything.
“I love you.” Sam said simply, smiling a bit wider when Dean flushed slightly. “No matter what or despite what happens between us, if this works out or not, I love you.”
Dean smiled softly and leaned more into his brother as well. “Love you too Sammy.”
Sam nodded. “You wanna keep going?” he asked.
Dean pulled away enough to tug the both of them down onto the bed onto their sides, still holding onto his brother. “Let's just get a bit more comfortable.”
Sam let him be moved, moving enough so that they weren't lying on their arms and then tossed his hair a bit more to the side to get out of his face.
Sam let his hands slowly stroke over Deans chest as well, dipping down lower to his stomach. His fingers drifted over the lines and scars the decorated Deans skin, the markings of various hunts from the past.
Dean let him do as he wished, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of Sams hands on him, before he realized that Sam seemed to be mapping something. “What are you doing?”
For a moment Sam didn't answer, eyes withdrawn slightly. “Just...remembering something.” he said quietly, hands still moving. “This is...” he took a deep breath. “When the hellhounds tore into you.”
Dean breathe out slowly and nodded as well, looking down at his own chest and remembering that. “Yeah.” he said softly.
“That was my worst night.” Sam said quietly. “Pinned to the wall, watching a hellhound, and you...you were screaming.”
Dean closed his eyes, hands coming up to grip at Sams. “Those were healed, not like yours.”
“Doesn't mean that I don't see them sometimes.” Sam said, turning his hands enough to grip at Deans.
For a few moments they held onto one another's hands, not saying a word until Sam spoke.
“This...thing between us.” he said softly and slowly. “What...how far are we going to go with it?”
Sam shrugged. “As far as we want to I guess.” he said. “Dean us becoming...” he stopped for a moment as he tried to figure out the right words to call whatever was between them. “A relationship doesn't really mean that a lot needs to change.”
“It means that we’re exclusive, that we’ve decided not to focus on anyone else for anything.” Dean said.
Sam gave him an unimpressed look. “We’ve already been doing that for years Dean.”
“Yeah but...for everything this time.” Dean said. “Even before we always had sex with other people, or at least I did.”
“I had sex too Dean.” Sam said rolling his eyes. “Not as much as you but I had sex.”
“Of course you did Sammy.” Dean said reassuringly, patting his brothers head for a moment and grinned when he swatted at him.
“Jerk.” Sam said. “But even if we never get to that its fine, I don't really need sex that much, do you?”
Dean shrugged at that. Maybe when he had been younger he would have whined and complained at the prospect of not having as much sex as he wanted, but maybe it was his maturity starting to come through or he was just tired of the old song and dance, but the prospect of no longer needing to charm and flirt his way into someones bed was a bit of a relief.
Don't get him wrong, he liked sex, he liked it a lot, but lately it had gotten less about sex and more about a physical connection with a person. More and more he just wanted to have the warmth of someone in his bed, his real bed and not a motel room bed or someone else's bed, that was more comforting to him than anything else and more satisfying than any orgasm.
And oddly enough, or maybe not odd in the slightest, he felt that same comfort and same reassurance at that moment in this bed with Sam in his arms. Yeah it was a motel room bed but that slowly faded away from his concerns with all his focus on his brother.
“What about mom?” Dean asked, rubbing his thumb against Sams skin.
It was Sams turn to shrug. “Dean I’m not looking for anyone's approval here other than yours and mine. We've been through...a lot. We've literally been through hell and back. The amount that I have that cares about what others think...its really nonexistent right now.” he pressed his forehead to Deans. “Do you care?”
Dean thought for a moment, trying to figure out how he would react if their mom knew what was slowly growing between him and Sam at this moment, where they were planning to take this, and realize that he didn't care. He loved her dearly, he cared about her so damn much, but in the end...if she disagreed or spoke out against him and Sam...he didn't care.
“No.” he finally said, feeling Sam relax against him. “I think I care more about how that other Bobby is making heart eyes at her so much.”
“Ugh.” Sam said with a grimace, Dean could imagine the look on his face at that. “Yeah I know, its gross.”
“Feels all wrong.” Dean added, shaking his head. “Its weird enough to have another Bobby look alike here and everything but also looking at our mom like that? It's not right.”
“On one hand they’re adults and everything, and we’re being a bit hypocritical about a possible relationship between them.” Sam said. “But on the other hand...its mom.”
“Yeah I know.” Dean said, shifting enough so that he could reach out and stroke over Sam's face. “Lets just...ignore that for as long as we can and cross that bridge when we get to it, if we get to it. We don't know that they’re getting together.”
Sam nodded again, his fingers trailing over Dean's lips gently. “If we don't have a physical relationship but we decide to be in a relationship, do you want to have it be open?”
“Open like...you or me can have sex with other people as much as we want but at night come back home to one bed together.” Sam told him and before he had even finished talking Dean was already shaking his head.
“No, hell no.” Dean said. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it completely. None of that openness and only being closed, I don't care if we don't have sex, I can live with just my right hand. I’ll even mix it up sometimes and use my left, but I don't want to have anyone else in this in anyway.”
Sam smiled a bit relieved at that. “Me too.” he said. “Glad we can settle that much at least.”
Dean breathed out and reached out to place his hand on Sams chest once more, relishing in the feel of his heartbeat, loving how strong and steady it was, it was more comforting than anything else in his life, and that included the rumbling of the impala's engine.
Sam laid a bit more on the bed, just staring at him for a few moments. “Wanna go to sleep?” he asked.
Dean nodded, using his legs to kick up the blanket a bit more so that Sam could snag it and bring it up to cover them. He reached out to turn the light off as well, bringing them into the dark.
“We got through the first night.” Sam said, settling back on the bed. “And the world's not ending yet.”
“Yeah well let's see what happens in the morning.” Dean said. “Are we moving into one room?”
“Do you want to?” Sam asked. “Who’s room are we going to be in?”
Dean hesitated before he spoke. “Mind moving into mine?”
Sam nodded easily, rubbing at Deans back. “Alright.” he agreed. “Makes it a bit easier, you’re a bit more settled into your room than I am.”
“People are going to ask questions though, about why we’re sharing a room.” Dean said. “What do we say?”
“We can tell them whatever we want to.” Sam said. “We can tell the truth or we can say anything else, we don't owe anyone anything.”
“Right now, regardless of how this progresses, I’m happy Dean, I’m really happy.” Sam said quietly. “And I don't want to lose it. We’ve lost a lot, we’ve lost enough, we deserve to be happy and we deserve to be happy together.”
Dean felt a warmth in his chest at that and he pressed as close as he could to his brother. “Yeah.” he whispered. “I’m happy too Sammy.”