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All we do is think about the feelings that we hide.

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It was all about the secret glances; the stolen looks in his direction; the stares when he wasn't looking; the forcefully looking away when he was in just a towel as he came out of the shower.

My hands wrapped around your thick shift

Dean couldn't help it, honestly. It had been around for years now, but he still couldn't deal with it.

Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this

Dean Winchester was in love with his little brother, and he couldn't help it. Sam, of course, didn't know about this.

There was sexual tension sometimes, but Dean suspected that he was the only one to feel this way. Sam was probably just horny in those moments, Dean thought. Not horny because of him.

My neck, the feeling of your soft lips

They were on the road, driving back to the bunker after a vamp-hunt. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Sam was looking out the window. A perfect moment to secretly throw a glimpse in his direction, to watch him like that for a little, to beg everything he could think of that Sam would turn his head around and stare into his eyes, then maybe lean in, and-

Illuminated in the light, bouncing off the exit signs I missed

But when Sam turned his head, he didn't look at Dean. Dean turned his head back to the road. There was nobody on the same lane as them. 

All we do is drive, all we do is think about the feelings that we hide

The music softly continued to play. It was not Dean's usual attire; 'Hotel California' by Eagles was playing. Sam had chosen the music. He figured it was somewhere in the directions of Dean's likings, and it was one of the rare old songs he liked. 

(He didn't like it. He adored this song. He'd listen to it on repeat while falling asleep. It made him think of Dean. It was his comfort song.)

All we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign, sick and full of pride

There were rare moments when they'd make eye contact. They'd try to sneak a glance at each other, but end up meeting each other's eyes instead of the side of the other's face. To Dean, these moments felt like electricity in his veins. To Sam, these moments felt like a punch to his stomach. (Or rather, butterflies inside it. But what was the difference?)

All we do is drive, and California never felt like home to me

Dean tried to resist; he really did, but somehow, his gaze always got drawn back to Sam. He was like a damn magnet.

And California never felt like home, and California never felt like home to me

Sam had always been the outcast. On school, as well. He was jealous of all the girls his older brother got it on with. He'd never told anyone, of course: he got bullied on his own well enough.

Until I had you on the open road, and now we're singing

What he didn't know, was that Dean tried to drown out his feelings for Sam by sleeping with so many girls. He thought that, if he at least was open to liking these arbitrary girls, he might stop liking his little brother.

Your laugh echoes down the hallway, carves into my hollow chest, spreads over the emptiness

Some nights, he'd pretended to be heartbroken. Sam would be there for him, comfort him, hug him, and if Dean was lucky, they'd even fall asleep in the same bed.

It's bliss, it's so simple but we can't stay

They reached the bunker, and just when Sam was about to get out, Dean spoke up. "Sammy?" He said, quietly.

Over analyze again,

"Yeah?" Sam responded, sitting back down and shutting the door again. He turned to Dean, who was assembling all of his courage.

"Would it really kill you if we kissed?"

It stayed silent in the car for a little. Dean forced himself to look into Sam's eyes. There was no going back anyhow. 

All we do is drive, all we do is think about the feelings that we hide

Sam checked to see if Dean was serious. And he was dead serious. He managed a quiet "what?", before Dean raised his voice. "Would it?!" He asked. Sam shook his head immediately, before Dean lost control and reached forward, cupped his little brother's cheek and kissed him in a way he had wanted for years.

All we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign, sick and full of pride, all we do is drive

Sam was stunned. He was fucking mind blown. Dean was actually kissing him. This was actually happening. He wasn't dreaming. 

He felt his brother's soft lips on his (they were exactly as soft as he expected, maybe even softer, how much chapstick did he really use?), and he was frozen. He was frozen, but the soft movements of Dean's lips made him melt. 

And California never felt like home to me, and California never felt like home

He kissed back. Sam tilted his head a little, and kissed his brother back. He couldn't stand not being closer to Dean, so he shuffled closer. Dean pulled back. Before Sam could be bothered by the loss of contact, Dean slid into his lap and reconnected their lips.

And California never felt like home to me, until I had you in the open road, and now I'm singing

Sam couldn't recall not wanting to kiss Dean, and now that he was performing the act, he could cry from happiness. He never wanted this moment to end.

And neither did Dean.