"You really need to stop getting hit by monsters," Dean said. "I'm tired of patching you up." He rubbed his hand along Sam's back. Sam sighed against his stomach. The warm breath brushed against Dean's bare skin.
Sam lifted his head off of Dean's chest. "It's not my fault that they take down the one who looks like the biggest threat first."
"Stop moving. And stop making fun of my height," Dean pouted. "I'm not short; you're just freakishly tall."
"Keep telling yourself that." Sam grinned. He then stretched so that his whole body covered Dean's. One of the stitches on his shoulder blade snapped. "Shit."
Blood started soaking into the no longer white bandage. Dean cursed quietly, but didn't move. "Can you move without tearing more?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, one sec."
Sam gently lifted himself off Dean. A minute ticked by before he was completely off and in an upright position on the bed. Dean sat up behind his brother.
"You only tore one. Sit here while I get the kit." He started walking away, but turned back with a small smirk after a brief moment. "Don't move. I don't want to have to sew up any more wounds due to your own stupidity."
"Hey!" Sam grabbed a pillow with his uninjured side and threw it at Dean. Dean easily dodged it and continued to the bathroom. He grabbed the med kit and returned to Sam.
"Wait another second I need to get the whiskey." He reached over and grabbed the bottle from the small table by the door of their motel room.
Sam sat still as Dean came to rest behind him. Whiskey poured over the cut for the second time that night in order to re-disinfect it. The needle and thread was then dipped into the bottle for a moment. Dean carefully stitched the spot where the wound opened and then he pressed a kiss next to it. He put bandages back on it and directed Sam to lay on him again.
"Thank you, Dean."
"Do I get a reward, Sammy?"
Without waiting Dean carefully pulled Sam's head towards his own and kissed him. They laid there attached at the mouth for a while before both fell asleep.
