"Why does everyone think we're gay for each other?" Dean blurted suddenly. Sam was so startled by the question that he stopped walking. Dean turned to face him from a pace ahead. "It's just… those kids, saying stuff about an 'office romance' or whatever…" Sam rolled his eyes and moved forward again.
"It's cause you're so butch. They think you're trying to compensate for your gayness."
"Psh! Are you sure it's not because of your sensitivity and those dewy doe-eyes you throw at every tear that falls?"
"That was an incredibly gay thing to say, Dean."
"Hey Francis, there's a coffee shop. Wanna stop in and grab a mocha-gay-chino?"
"Would you rather I buy you a giant cup of black Joe?"
"I know you only buy me coffee so you can flirt with the Hipster barista boys."
"Don't worry, Dean. I'll leave the light on so you can limp your way home after you visit the Chief tonight."
"Low blow, dude. You know I'm traumatized." Sam smirked. "I can't believe you remember that, anyway."
"Are you kidding? I remember all of your most embarrassing moments. They're all stashed away, waiting to be used as brotherly blackmail."
"Oh, you mean like how I'm going to bring up Missy Stewarts so you'll blush and shame yourself into letting me choose the beer?"
"Oh my God, Dean!" Sam punched his brother lightly in the shoulder. Dean gave a hearty laugh, but quieted as they neared the bookstore. Sam was going to find something he wanted for their library, and Dean was gathering supplies. "I'll meet you back at the motel when I'm done." Sam turned to head up the steps.
"Hey, Sam?" Sam paused and turned slightly to look at him. Dean was suddenly full of an urge that he didn't even bother suppressing this time. "I love you." Sam's face fell into shock and went bright red. There were people around. Some had heard him and stopped to stare. Sam clutched at the railing and kind of shrank in on himself in embarrassment.
"Are you high or something?!" Sam hissed from the third step.
"I mean it. More than anything." Dean's chest ached. He hadn't said anything like this in years, and it had only ever been when one of them was dying or high on some sort of venom, but he felt like it needed to be said. Sammy was going to leave him soon, and he needed his brother to know. Sam was always in the front of Dean's mind. Through all the events with Benny, Cas, Bobby, Lisa, Jo, Ellen, Cassie, and Dad… it was always Sam, always right there, keeping him from being able to commit or care as much as he really should have.
Gotta take care of Sammy.
Gotta watch Sammy leave.
Gotta get Sammy.
Gotta save Sammy.
Gotta let Sammy die.
Gotta get Sammy on track.
Gotta let Sammy go…
"Dean…" The elder Winchester saw pain in Sam's eyes. It was the same kind Dean knew was shimmering in his own, and he knew that neither of them could do anything about it. Sam covered it with a weak smirk. "Stop being gay and remember the gun oil. Don't get the cheap stuff, it stinks." Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. The look in Sam's eyes was enough. There was love there. The kind he'd been starved for over the past year. The kind he could only get from his precious and annoying little brother. Lately, they'd hardly looked at each other if they weren't discussing a case, and it was driving Dean nuts. Sam felt guilty and at the same time justified for quitting. He felt guilty for not trying and at the same time like he couldn't have done anything to save Dean anyway. Dean knew.
He knew, but he was pissed that Sam had let him fight for his life in Purgatory without even looking for him. He was pissed that Sam had quit hunting and let people die. He was pissed that Sam had found that Amelia girl and started a 'normal' life with her.
Dean was glad Sam had been able to move on, just like they'd promised. He was glad that Sam hadn't gotten himself killed looking for Dean or ended up in Purgatory for his troubles. He was so glad that Sam had been able to let himself love again after Jessica, Sarah, and Madison. He'd had a house and a dog and the same woman in his bed every night. He'd gone to neighborhood cookouts and had a decent job and friends.
Dean turned around to keep walking. "Love you too, jerk." He barely heard it, but it made him smile. They wanted different things, but Dean swore that wouldn't keep them apart. Dean would continue to live the life that he loved.
Saving people, hunting things… the family business.
Sam could go back to Amelia and that dog. Dean would crash on their couch for a weekend here and there.
And he'd bring up Missy Stewarts just to watch Sam flail and stammer in front of his girlfriend like he was sixteen again.
