Dean and Sam share sort-of-a-moment in the bunker. Super short, sorta sweet. One of my mildest stories.
Sam finally realized what had been bugging him: he would catch Dean unconciously raise his right arm above shoulder level, then put it right back down. It was like some habit that Dean had built into everyday actions like raising a gun or a burger. Just a slight upward tilt of the forearm, then nothing.
"Why do you keep doing that?" Sam demanded finally, after spending 45 minutes in the bunker watching Dean drink a beer and research. Wendigo shmendigo, Dean was acting odd.
"Doing what?" Dean asked, taking another sip of beer.
"That."
"Drinking? Reading? What?"
"Going like-" Sam imitated his brother, raising his right forearm. "You keep doing that. Really subtly, but I think you've been doing it for a month or so."
Dean held his wrist up, just above the shoulder, inspecting it. He shrugged. Sam suddenly noticed something on his wrist. "What's that?"
"What's what?" Dean asked, and the thing- bracelet, maybe? slipped beneath his sleeve. Sam scooted his chair next to Dean's, and grabbed his arm, yanking back his sleeve. "Hey!" Dean shouted, attempting to recover his arm, but Sam fished out the weird bracelet.
"Aww," Sam cooed, "you've got a fwiendship bracelet. Who's your fwieeeend?"
"Cas," Dean muttered. Sam was so startled that he almost forgot to laugh, but pretty soon he was laughing loudly at Dean, who had began to redden.
"Shut up!" Dean snapped. "He just sort of… handed it to me, so I put it on…"
"And kept putting it back on every day? Doesn't it annoy you?"
"I put this on, don't I?" Dean growled, yanking a familiar old necklace out of his shirt. He stomped away. Sam sat in silence, doing nothing, for another half hour, but this time it was a sort of stunned musing.
Ta-da!
A message from your author: Who else has that one piece of jewellry they cannot live without? For me, it's my watch.