Set During: Mystery Spot (Season 3)

I always wonder about all the ways Dean must have died that we didn't see in this episode. Here's a slash version. :D

Sam woke to the sound of Asia, again. Sitting up sleepily, he watched as Dean simultaneously danced while pulling his boots on. Resigned to be facing yet another Tuesday, Sam swung his legs out of the bed and grabbed one of Dean's booted feet.

"Dude?" Questioned his older brother.

"We are staying in today." Sam explained, undoing the laces and pulling the shoe off towards himself.

"O-kay. Why?"

"Because we went out yesterday."

"We drove yesterday. All day in fact." He raised his eyebrows as Sam swapped his feet over and attacked his other foot.

"No." Sam said, pulling the boot off rougher than was really necessary. "You may have driven all day 'yesterday', but I watched you die yesterday. Oh and the day before that. And the day before that. In fact," He continued, shoving Dean's leg back at him, "I have watched you die thirty-eight days in a row now."

"Well someone had a nightmare and woke up on the grumpy side of the bed." Dean went to stand up but Sam pushed him back down.

"I was only going to the bathroom!"

"No. You are going to sit here. Just here. All day."

"The bathroom, dude?"

"You might slip in the shower, or choke on your mouthwash, or drop the soap and bang your head on the sink standing back up." Sam placed his hands determinedly on his hips and stared down at his brother. "Trust me on this."

"You're crazy."

"Like 'dingo ate my baby' crazy?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

Dean looked up at Sam's face, "How did you know I was going to- God, you're serious aren't you."

"Please, just stay there today?"

"What if I need to pee?"

"I'll get you a bucket."

Dean sighed and fell back down onto his pillow. After two minutes he reached out to turn back on the radio, but Sam swatted his hand away without even looking. "You'll only electrocute yourself."

There was a whistling from outside.

"Three, two, one." Counted down Sam before there was a knock on the door. "We don't need room service thank you." He called out.

"Okay."

"Dude," Dean exclaimed, sitting sharply up, "She sounds cute."

"She is. She's twenty-four. Her name is Emily, she has two small children and thinks you're a douche bag."

"Hmm." Dean vocalised, annoyed, once again falling back down on the bed.

Sam leant against the wall at the end of Dean's bed and watched him.

"You're freaking me out." His older brother said, without bothering to sit up.

"Deal with it."

"That's it." Dean finally cracked, "I have cabin fever. I am getting the hell out of here."

Sam strode across the room and flung his big brother back on the bed, sitting on him for good measure.

"Dude, you are pinning me!"

"You. Need. To. Stay. Here."

Dean was sitting half up on his elbows, staring daggers at Sam as he was straddled by him. He smirked as Sam pursed his lips in determination, and then swiftly moving one hand to the back of his little brother's head he smashed their lips together.

Sam shoved him back down on the bed in confusion and horror.

"What the hell was that?"

"I'm bored! I'm so bored," He continued, "I am actually considering making out with my own brother for Christ's sake!" He joked, hoping that Sam would finally get the picture and let him out.

Instead Sam cocked his head to one side thoughtfully.

"What?" Dean asked, fear creeping up his spine.

Sam gave his gorgeous half-smile, "It's a Tuesday we haven't tried."

"Oh no!" Dean exclaimed, "No way! If you even think about! Dude!" His indignation was lost in Sam's mouth as he was dragged back up into a sitting position.

Maybe if I don't respond he'll give up Dean thought, but was finding it very difficult as the soft lips moved against his. This should feel more wrong than it does. He pulled himself away.

"Sammy?"

"Shut up."

"I get all tingly when you take control like that!"

Sam smiled before once again gathering Dean's bottom lip between his, full on smirking when his brother opened his mouth in response. Sam slid his hands inside Dean's over shirt and slipped it from his back. Dean pulled him closer to him, exploring those beautiful white teeth with his tongue.

Sam hooked his fingers beneath Dean's t-shirt and tugged, breaking off the kiss momentarily to pull the material up over Dean's head. Simultaneously, Dean lost his hands up the front of Sam's shirt, his fingers passing desperately over Sam's nipples.

Sam threw his head back, trying to grasp at the short strands of Dean's hair, but eventually settling for digging his nails into the back of his brother's shoulders, biting down on his neck as Dean found the waistband of his trousers.

Lost in incestuous ecstasy, Sam threw Dean hard back down on the bed.

There was a crack. A horrible, hollow crack.

"Dean?" Sam asked, panicked.

Blood was trickling down the pillow and onto the floor from where his brother had whacked the back of his head on the headboard. Sam gently shook him with no response.

"Dean!" He yelled.

And woke up. To the sound of Asia, again.