“Sammy,” Dean started, “I wanna cuddle.” Dean froze, that was NOT what he’d intended to say. Not even fucking close.
“What?” Sam couldn’t believe his ears; Dean never asked for that sort of thing; never.
“I mean…I wanna…Sammy, I want you to hold me.” Again? It happened again?! What the actual fuck?!
“What?” Okay, the first time it was cute; now he was officially worried. “Dean,” he asked, hesitantly, “Did that witch whammy you?” Sam had asked the same question last night as the brothers returned to the motel. Thinking back, Sam should’ve realized something was amiss. No matter how many bruises his brother gained through the course of a hunt, he never-NEVER- once verbally asked Sam for a rub down; until last night.
He looked up and his heart melted in his chest. Dean stood beside the bed, looking like a lost little boy. He wore only his boxers, one of Sam’s dryer shrunken t-shirts, and socks (another thing he never did) and just stared at the mattress.
“Dean, you okay?”
Deans head popped up and he made quick eye contact before dropping his gaze again. Sam could see the forceful attempt to nod before he reluctantly shook his head. "I…I don’t wanna sleep alone,“ he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Sam smiled gently and closed his laptop. Removing his shirt as he crossed to Dean, he pulled the covers back and gestured for Dean to get in.
“It’s alright; sleep now and first thing in the morning we’ll figure this out, okay?”
Dean nodded, “Okay, Sammy. I trust you.”
Sam’s heart swelled at those word; he never realized how much he wanted, no needed to hear them. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he climbed in the bed and took his, ableit unusual, place as the big spoon. Dean pushed back a little, crowding into Sams embrace before a soft sigh escaped him. "Rest Dean, you’re alright.“
”‘Kay. Love you, S'mmy,“ he slurred as he fell into sleep. Sam kissed the back of Deans neck, perhaps taking slight advantage.
“Love you too.”