Catch and Release

Prompt: Dean hates sneezing in front of people (including his brother), because it embarrasses him. Only, he's coming down with a horribly sneezy cold...so he does his best to try and not sneeze, but really, who is he kidding? :D
A/N: Mad mad props to twirlycurls, the fastest beta in the west, whose patience in the face of technical difficulties is nothing short of dazzling.

:::

"Uh... hhH-HUH-BPFCHKJST! Uhhhh." Dean snuffles and ducks away from Sam in the bright, breezy parking lot.

"Whoa. Bless you."

"Hnh," Dean grunts. Sam can see his arm working against his face, the hair on the back of his head rippling in the wind like an untended lawn.

"Ugh. I hope this guy cracks fast. I'm starving."

"Isn't that my line?" Dean starts toward the high rise, twists to make sure Sam's following. There's a flush to his cheeks, but it might just be the wind.

"Man. The things some people put on their balconies." Sam juts his chin toward a mass of bicycle tires dangling from a railing.

Dean snorts. "Never know when you're gonna need a... hHHH..." Sam turns just in time to catch the alarm in his eyes before Dean puts his back to him. "Hah-KTSCHSHZZHZHT! ITZHHCHCH-ih!"

"What's with you?"

"Didn't you know I was allergic to bike tires?" He sniffles hard.

"You need a tissue or something?"

"No." Dean won't meet his eyes when he turns around. His nose is going red. Sam thinks it's kind of cute.

:::

"HH-HH-hhhhh. EH-HHH... hhhhhhhhh."

"You got a cold?"

"IHHHH... uhhhhgkh."

"What's with all the sneezing?"

Dean takes the napkin dispenser off the table and stalks toward the men's room. When the explosions hit, they're loud enough Sam can hear them anyway.

:::

"You don't like sneezing in front of people."

Dean freezes in the passenger seat, a napkin halfway to his pink nostrils. He snuffles and lowers the paper.

"Or blowing your nose."

He's bright red against the bare trees.

"I've seen you spit out food you didn't like. You'll pee anywhere you think you won't get arrested for it. I don't get it, dude. What's the big deal? You have a cold. It's not like you can help it."

Dean swipes at his upper lip with two fingers. "Yahtzee."

:::

He lets Sam cuddle up behind him in bed, skin bunching into goosebumps as the sheets shift. Sam tuts, kisses his neck and spreads a careful palm over his forehead. "You're hot."

"Thought you liked that about bee."

"And you sound like shit."

Dean coughs. "But I could do a super-creepy voice over for a cartood bad guy."

Sam nuzzles his ear. "I guess, if he's half-dead."

"The best wudds always are." Sniffling, he stiffens in Sam's hands. His chest balloons out with a jagged, desperate inhale.

"Sneeze," Sam murmurs, and kisses the tiny bare spot at the crown of his head. "I dare you."

"AH-AGHK-HHH..."

"Mmm, I like that." He nudges his nipples into Dean's back. "C'mon. Hang loose like the bike tires."

"HEH-HHHH..."

"Ohh, your abs are so hard right now. Check it out."

"IH-HHHHH..."

Sam strokes his belly. "Just let it go."

"Hat-TZZHZHCHCHCHH-hoo! HEH-XXGGHZT!"

"Yay!" Sam sneaks over Dean's shoulder and kisses a warm nostril. "Two. You get bonus points."

Dean scrabbles for tissues and blows his nose hard and fast, like he's riding the momentum.

Sam presses his lips to Dean's biceps. "That was hot."

"You are wudd kigky sudd of a bitch."

"And you should not talk anymore until I can listen without wincing." He ruffles Dean's hair. "I'll make you one of those knockout lemon drinks. We can toast your victory."

Dean rolls over and looks at Sam. His tired eyes sparkle.

"Anytime, Rudolph."