Author's Comment: This was written as a contest price. I loved writing this. It's Fluffy!Weecest. As usual, I do not own Supernatural nor it's characters in any way.
"Sammy! How long you gonna be in there? Some of us have to masturbate too," a joke coming from grinning lips as a chiseled jaw worked. Sighing through his nose when silence was the only thing that answered him, Dean pounded on the door. "Sammy. Let me in, I gotta pee."
"There are some bushes outside Dean."
"Dammit!" Dean cursed walking away from the door as he sulked, looking at the bed where he and Sam both slept last night. His hair had fallen on his chest as the older brother slept. He woke frequently as his chest itched from the chestnut hair resting there, but he didn't mind it so much. It was Sammy's hair. He loved Sam's hair. He loved running his fingers through it and admiring its condition of always looking like sex hair. That's what he loved about it.
Grinning to himself, Dean stalked to the bathroom again and opened the door to the bathroom, to be shocked at what he looked upon. Sitting on a stool in front of the mirror was Sammy. Half of his luxurious mane was cut cleanly off. Dean would have admired the handy work, had it not been Sammy's hair that was cut.
Locks were littered to the floor as an innocent look spread across Sam's face as their eyes met.
"What the hell Sammy?" Dean exclaimed, taking the shirt of other man, slamming him into the wall menacingly. "What the hell are you doing?" he emphasized one more time when silence was the only thing that greeted him.
Looking sheepish and broken, Sam frowned deeply, his eyes a storm of emotions. When he wouldn't confess as to what was wrong, Dean let him go. Turning on his heel and passing out of the bathroom, he stalked the living room/bedroom, his head in a furrow.
"Dean."
"Yes, Sam?" Through clenched teeth came the reply.
Then silence. Sighing to himself, Dean flopped himself down on the bed and gestured for the smaller Sam to come over to him. "What happened to your hair? Why are you cutting it?" he whispered, his own eyes saddened as he looked into the uneven mess of chopped off locks.
"It was itching your chest last night." The truth. Uttered.
Blinking past confusion, Dean couldn't help but laugh. Gripping the sheets and tilting his head back he let out his long, hard laugh. Stomach contorting in pain from no breath, he shook his head at the clueless boy in between his legs.
"That's why you cut your hair?"
A little unnerved from the laughter, Sammy's brow furrowed as he pouted up at Dean. "Y-yes."
"Baby-face, I love your hair. Especially across my chest. It's beautiful." Dean grinned down at Sam, leaning down to touch their foreheads, before pulling him closer for a soft kiss. His lips were chaste as he kissed his younger brother.
"I'll let you slide this time, but if you ever cut your hair again… I swear…"
Sam laughed and grinned up at Dean. "Got it."
Jolting awake from the dream, Sam let out a gasp. Closing his eyes, he held Dean tighter, feeling the security there in holding the older man to him. The memories were odd as he sat there and let it play again. Before he knew it, he was laughing and waking up Dean.
"What the hell Sam?" he grumbled groggily, looking over at Sam, through blurry, sleepy eyes.
"I was just remembering when you found me cutting my hair." The lengthy man chuckled as he shook his head, leaning over to look Dean in the eyes with a grin.
It took a couple of seconds before the memory sunk in and Dean grinned. "My words still hang true. You cut that hair of yours and I'll kick your ass."
Grasping him by the mane, Dean hauled Sammy on top of him, kissing him deeply, much less innocently than before.
"I'd like to see you try..."