Hello everyone! This is BurntHeart here with a Supernatural story. Just throwing a disclaimer out there… I will be writing lots and lots of smut later on. Hence why I have labeled this M. As much as I would like to, I do not own Supernatural. Just my character named Rose. If any of you guys have any story ideas you would like me to attempt, LET ME KNOW! Please enjoy!

The sun was shining through the window of a musty motel room. Groaning, I roll over and pulled my pillow over my head not wanting to get up, but eventually I managed to lift my heavy head off of the warm and welcoming bed. Stretching, I take note that it's quiet. Almost too quiet. Usually by this time Dean would have started some silly argument with the big moose called Sam. Looking at the alarm clock I realize that it's almost noon. Throwing on some pants, I stroll lazily out of the bed room and spot a note on the counter of the kitchen.

"Rose,

Dean and I are going to be on a night hunt. Should be back sometime in the morning.

-Sam"

I read the note over again smiling at Sam's neat hand writing. Sipping coffee, I take time to wake up. Grabbing the leather covered notebook filled to the brim about supernatural things that I have started learning about through my own hunts. I was flip through a couple pages before my stomach grumbles, reminding me that I still need to eat. Sighing, I plopped the book down. Pulling out ingredients to make pancakes, my mind starts to wander. I couldn't help but think about the way Sam's hair falls perfectly into place after he's swiped his hands through it with a sense of frustration while he researches. His laugh when I've told a pun or joke. The look in his eyes when he's helping someone during a hunt; soft and gentle. His muscles that can effortlessly pick me up when I have fallen. The smell of his soap perfectly mixed with the musk of fire and dirt. He was… intoxicating

Pouring the batter into a hot pan a wave of realization come crashing over myself. I like- no love- Sam Winchester. Even though I have only been with both of them for 3 years, I quickly have become best friend with Dean and even closer to Sam. They know everything there is to know about me and I know everything about them. From the moment I saw them in action as they saved me all you wanted to do was help others the way they did. If they hadn't saved me from my crazy, possessed boyfriend, I would have been dead.

Half way deep in thought, the door burst open and flops in is a very drunk Dean and an equally drunk Sam. Instantly I am brought back to reality. The smell of booze is strong enough to smell from the door.

"Really guys? It's 12 and you guys are already drunk?" I attempt to reason with them. Dean laughs again and tries to speak in spurts of breath.

"W-We had to- cel-ebr-ate." He starts hiccupping.

"This is a great was to start today…" I flip the first pancake as I think sarcastically to myself. Laughter fills the room as Sam trips over Dean. They continued to roll around until Dean hits his head on a chair that is right by the tiny kitchen area. Both boys notice the smell of pancakes and a I try to fight a smile as mumbles rise from the Winchester boys about how hungry they are.

"Morning Rooooose," Sam starts with his words strongly slurred. Wow… he must be so hammered. "Are those for meee?" Despite the fact he's super drunk, he's fairly graceful as he makes his way to me.

"Yes Sam," I just finish and hand him a plate with a few pancakes on it. "Dean, would you like some?"

Dean nods eagerly and its down so fast he almost missed the chair. He reminds me of a 5-year-old kid waiting for pie. I silently chuckle under my breath.

"Sam," Dean slobbers out. "Those girls we met at the bar were a lot of fun." Stealing a glance at Sam, I instantly notice the smile plastered on his perfect lips. My heart drops.

"Yeah man! I even got her number. I just might have to call her soon."

The more that the boys talk about these girls from the bar the more hurt I start to feel. No longer paying attention to what they are saying I started cleaning up the kitchen. Tears threaten to spill. Good thing that the boys are practically black out drunk still.

"Right Rose?" Sam's words startle me and causes me to drop a glass that shatters on the floor. Jumping out of fear from the noise you step on a large piece of glass. Biting my lip, I try not yelp out in pain. Blood drips from the cut in my heel as I hobble away from the mess. I can feel Dean's eyes watching so I try my best to keep calm.

"Rose? Are you okay?" Sam questions. He starts to stand up to get a better view of what happened.

"I'm okay." I spit out. Sam winces at coldness of my voice. It even startles me for a second. I crouch down and start to pull at the piece of glass. Pain washes over my body and I screech out in agony. Tears finally spill down my cheeks. Sam gasps as he sees all of the blood now pooling around my injured foot. Even though Deans fairly drunk, he's by my side in a matter of seconds holding my hand. I hold on to him tightly as if that will help with the throbbing pain I feel.

"Sam! Get the first aid kit," he barks. Sam hasn't moved at all. His eyes are wide as he watches my face as it starts to twist in pain. "Sam, now!" Sam starts to move, but his eyes linger on me. Dean turns back to me and looks into my eyes before continuing to pulling the glass out of your flesh. Screaming Sam rushes back, almost tripping. Handing Dean the first aid kit, Dean rips it open looking for thread and needles. Sam mirrors Dean and goes to grab my hand. In the back of my mind I hear his voice.

"I just might have to call her soon."

He goes to touch me and instantly I blurt out, "Do not touch me."

Sam's movement hitches but he follows my demand. I were so focused on the fact that the man I allowed myself to love will never want me that I don't even notice that Dean was almost done stitching my up. Dean offers a comforting smile as he pokes my foot. After my wound is dressed I try to stand when Dean stops me.

"Oh no you don't. Young missy, you are not to stand on that foot for the rest of this week- at least." Thankfully it was Wednesday, so I only had 4 more days. Putting one of his arms under my legs and the other just below my shoulder blades, he lifts me with ease. I still worry that him being so drunk will cloud his judgement. My only guess is that his adrenalin high is still in effect. He leans in and the smell of whiskey brushes over my cheeks. His lips find my salty tears as he pecks me on the cheek. Walking to the room in the back of the motel, he lays me down gently before kissing my forehead and then rubbing his noes against mine. His voice is low and soft when he whispers,

"Let's talk later, okay?"

I nod in agreement. In the heat of the moment, his hand snakes it's way to the back of my neck and he kisses my lips. It was so gentle that it's almost like it didn't happen. At first, I was extremely shocked, but soon I found myself kissing him back. My arms wrap around his neck and my hands comb through his hair, deepening the kiss. I can taste the salt and lime mixing with the whiskey from the shots he probably had. I remove only one hand from his hair and yank his jacket so he falls completely on the bed, towering over me.

His hands roam down my back and in a smooth transition work their way up my stomach, bunching up my shirt along the way. I start moaning as his hands start kneading my breast. Finding some little bit of confidence, I nip at his bottom lip begging for more. Dean obliges and his tongue darts out. The taste of the alcohol becomes so much stronger. Getting drunk off of him I start to strip him of his jacket and my hands graze over his chiseled abs. He squeezes me harder while we exchange moans of pleasure.

Even though I love his brother, I still find Dean equally attractive. His laugh is addicting and I will admit that he is an amazing kisser. My hands are almost to his belt when we both hear Sam throwing up in the kitchen.

"Has Sam still not moved?" you wonder.

Dean groans and the two of you part completely breathless. His green eyes peer into mine before he pecks me gently again. He rolls off the bed and I am instantly cold without his body next to mine.

"I'm coming Sammy, I'm coming." Dean hollers as Sam throws up again. With how composed Dean can be when he's drunk I would have completely forgotten about it. My hand shoots up to my lips and I think back to what just happened.

Dean was towering over me… his lips on mine… the taste of whiskey… his hands roaming on my body.

I suddenly feel a blush creep up my neck. My heart raced at the thought of what could have could happened if we were left with no disturbances. Yes, I liked Dean, but I didn't love him the way I like Sam.

I hear a set of footsteps and something being dragged behind it. A door closes, causing their words to sound muted. Deciding not to try and eve's drop on a conversation probably about bars and girls, I close my heavy eyes and will my heart to slow enough for me to sleep. I don't even remember falling asleep.