That morning, Sam kissed Dean at the breakfast table. It was more of a peck, really; quick and casual and without any tongue involved. Dean wondered if he'd have perhaps preferred there to be tongue, because he wasn't entirely sure what to make of kissing that wasn't a prelude to the sex they'd recently started having.

Frequently, fervently, and without much discussion thereof.

But, yeah, Sam had kissed him in the undeniable light of day, going back to his breakfast immediately afterward with a smile and not a single word about feelings. Dean found that he was sort of maybe secretly pleased about it. Even if he didn't know what it meant.


It turned out not to be a one-time thing. They were standing in line to buy groceries on a Friday night, and the place was packed with shoppers to the point of being excruciatingly annoying. The woman in front of them at check-out had a shopping cart full to the brim with crap and was taking eons to get all her items scanned.

"Do we seriously have to go through this agony just for some jerky and a six-pack," Dean muttered to Sam under his breath, eyeing the lady as she bodily lifted two watermelons out of her cart. There was a boob joke out there waiting to be told, but his heart wasn't in it.

"We've already been in line for twenty minutes," Sam answered, "And we're next up. Wouldn't have wanted to do all that waiting without getting something out of it. Even if that something is gross, heavily-processed meat tubes saturated in salt."

"Always a delight, Sammy." The woman in front of them cut off their conversation when she noisily dropped several cans of soup by accident, one of them barely missing Dean's foot. He elbowed Sam lightly in the ribs for good measure before bending down to help her pick the straying cans back up, placing them one by one onto the conveyor belt for her as she thanked him and went back to unloading the rest of her stuff. When he turned back to Sam, he was looking at him with this odd expression, kind of goofy and misty-eyed.

"What?"

Sam ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Nothing, nothing."

"If you say so."

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets, confused by Sam and his stupid face and his stupid tightlippedness. Though he should be more used to all of the above by now, really.

"Hey, Sam," he said, on a whim, "I got one: why do watermelons have such fancy weddings? C'mon, guess."

Before Sam could open his mouth, Dean finished, "Because they cantaloupe." Sam stared back at him in silence for a second, presumably wrapping his head around the brilliance of the punchline.

"That's by far the worst joke I've ever heard. And considering I've lived with you for the past decade, that means a lot."

Dean scoffed. "Oh, really? You're just jealous because I'm the word-play wizard."

Sam's sudden grin was so bright it made Dean's stomach flip over. Fucking dimples and shit. Almost as if he could sense what Dean was feeling, Sam leaned down and kissed him softly on the mouth, right in front of everybody. There were some definite
wolf-whistles from the people behind them.

When Sam pulled away, Dean raised his eyebrows at him to express his bafflement. "I think I got that joke off a popsicle stick, just so you know."

Sam laughed and grabbed for his hand, fitting their fingers together. They held hands until it was finally their turn with the cashier, and also, afterward, when they were traipsing across the crowded parking lot.

It was really weird and the definition of girly, but Dean liked it anyway.
x