Set During: (Season 1)
Sam is Dean's and Dean is Sam's. Sadly neither of them are mine. Please don't sue; I have not got the money :)
A street lamp flickered before giving up completely as they approached the run down motel nearing midnight. Sam held open the door and Dean tumbled through, falling on the bell on the desk for attention.
"Twin room please." Dean asked, still leaning on the counter. Behind him Sam rubbed his tired eyes and attempted to stifle a yawn.
"I'm sorry; we only have a double left." Apologised the bespectacled man behind the counter.
Dean raised him palms in the air, "We're good." He explained turning to leave.
Simultaneously Sam said "We'll take it."
"Dude?" Dean exclaimed.
"I need a good night's sleep. In a bed." Sam handed over a fake credit card. "You can sleep on the floor for all I care."
In the room, Dean was lying very still, flinching every time Sam moved on the other side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling and edged himself as far away from his brother as possible without actually falling out.
Sam murmured in his sleep, beginning to toss violently, before sitting bolt upright; wide awake. He ran his hand over his forehead, pushing the damp sweat into his hair.
"Nightmare?" Dean asked, concerned despite himself.
"Yeah." Sam shook it off. "How about you?" He asked, looking down at Dean. "Can't sleep?"
"No."
"You tried counting sheep?"
"Dude! It's the country! At the mere mention of them they would probably come jumping through the window." Dean shuddered at the thought of a farmyard invasion. "What?" He asked in response to Sam's questioning look.
"I know a way to tire you out."
"Sammy!" Dean jumped as his brother's fingers found his thigh beneath the bed clothes.
"Tell me you don't want it and I'll stop." Sam teased, moving atop Dean and sliding his hand further into forbidden territory.
Any chance Dean would have had to protest was quelled as Sam found his mouth in the dark and tauntingly ran his tongue along his bottom lip.
He slowly moved in and out of his brother's mouth in time to his hand stroking expertly below, until Dean kissed back, then nibbled, then full on bit until he drew blood; breathing heavily into Sam's neck as he came in his brother's hand.
After several minutes, Dean found his voice again.
"Dude, that was so wrong. We are never ever doing that again."
Sam shook his head and sighed as he curled up against Dean's chest, running his fingers absentmindedly over its crevices.
"That's what you say every time." He muttered.
