Sam is twelve and looks at his brother with nothing short of hero worship. Dean’s tall and handsome; every teenage-girl’s dream. Light on his feet in a way that Sam will never be, his own legs, too long and lanky that won’t allow him to be anything but clumsy. Hands that he’s watched take apart and reassemble a gun in mere seconds, his movements quick and efficient. Cocky grin and give-em-hell attitude that demands everyone’s attention; he’s everything that Sam wishes he could be.
Sam is fourteen and still looks at his brother like he hangs the moon. Dean’s now officially an adult and filled out in ways Sam’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be noticing. Broad shoulders that make all his favorites shirts too tight so that they cling to the muscles of his back. Eyes so clover-green that when their attention is on him he wishes he could stop time and live in that moment forever. Those same hands carding through his hair in the middle of the night after a bad nightmare, climbing into his bed and pulling him close even though their father says they’re too old for it now.
Sam is sixteen and has finally come to terms with the fact that he’s in love with his brother and he doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge or himself half the time. Dean’s seemingly more beautiful everyday, so much so, that sometimes it hurts to look at him. To always have him so close and yet never close enough. That voice like liquid heat that pools inside Sam’s belly every time his brother whispers in his ear or calls him ‘Sammy’.
Sam is eighteen and afraid to reveal the sick truth of his heart, how he aches for things that he should never, ever want. So tangled up inside and he fears Dean will discover his secret, wonders how he’s gotten away with it for this long. It’s enough to keep him awake at night, staring at his brother’s sleeping figure and wondering what it would be like to kiss those soft, pink lips, to taste the inside of his mouth… It’s no surprise he ends up leaving for California, needing to put as much space between them as possible before this hunger ruins the only good thing he has.
Sam is twenty two when his brother breaks into his apartment and wrestles him to the ground. Solid weight of muscle on top of him, breath hot and heavy as it washes across his face in the dark room and it all comes rushing back. Everything he tried so desperately to bury, bubbling forth with a new and ravenous desire. “Dad’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days” and just like that he’s back in the game, in the passenger seat at Dean’s side; still strung out on that hundred watt smile but he’s desperate to make this work.
Sam’s twenty three when he starts having psychic visions and he’s scared even if he’ll never admit it. His brother never leaves his side though, promises that nothing bad will ever happen to him as long as he’s around and he doesn’t know what the hell he did to deserve Dean but it’s what fuels his faith and gives him reason to keep fighting.
Before he knows it he’s twenty six and jumping into the cage with the devil. Saving the world and what he hopes is Dean’s chance at a normal life. A life with someone who can make him truly happy and fill all those spaces in his heart in a way that Sam knows he’s never meant to.
He’s twenty nine and in an abandoned church, got the king of hell tied to a chair, and ready to, once again, sacrifice himself so he can shut the gates of hell but Dean won’t let him, begs him to stop. “There’s nothing, past or present, that I would put in front of you” and Sam has to bite back the tears that threaten to break free and he can’t help but feel unworthy of his brother’s unwavering devotion.
Then he’s thirty one and ready to damn the whole world to rid his brother of the mark of Cain that’s branded onto his skin, slowly poisoning and changing his brother into something he doesn’t recognize but he won’t stop till he has him back. He’s fought way to hard to keep him just to lose him like this.
He turns 32 and the darkness is released onto the world and they’re caught in a war between God and his sister but it’s not the first time that heaven rains down it’s issues on them. Caught once again in the middle of an epic battle that verges on ripping the world apart and it’s just another day in the life of the Winchester’s.
Sam is 33 and it’s just him and his brother in a dusty library of an old bunker that they now call home talking about how they can’t believe that they’ve made it this far. They’ve both died more times than they care to count, fate, it seems, hell-bent on breaking them apart but not for long, because they somehow always find their way back to each other.
They’re sharing a drink, allowing the amber liquid to warm it’s way through their systems when Dean leans close and places a gentle but all- encompassing kiss to his trembling lips, whispers all the things Sam’s so desperately wanted but never thought he would ever hear. And It’s in that moment that he realizes that Dean has been carrying the same twisted up love in his heart, it’s roots planted just as deep.
“There’s a hushed "Love you Sammy,” that leaves his brother’s lips and it’s so quiet he barely hears it. It’s him who leans in this time and kisses his brother with a hunger that has Dean opening his mouth, and eagerly inviting him in.
He pulls away after a minute and rests his forehead against Dean’s and whispers just as softly,…
“Love you too Dee.”