Kiss Me Better, Sammy?
A fluffy little oneshot for you - enjoy x
Dean's eyes opened groggily, his head pounding as he sat up in the empty motel bed.
"Sammy?" he called out; his voice hoarse, blinking hard as his eyes focused and light flooded in. He frowned, spotting his younger brother bolting down a large, greasy fry-up, already showered, dressed and surfing his laptop.
"Well, good morning, sleeping beauty," Sam grinned, watching amusedly as he fumbled with the bed sheets, "And about time too; do you even know what time it is?" Dean pretended not to listen and yawned, tufts of hair sticking out haphazardly from his head.
He rubbed his aching temples, "Oh my head! Did a demon stamp on me in the night or something? You, know, without me noticing?" He groaned and rolled over, burying his head in his pillow.
Sam suppressed a laugh, amazed at how feeble his brother could be sometimes. "Dean, it's just a hangover; I'd thought you'd learnt that by now." Dean rolled back over and opened his mouth in protest, "No, really Sam, I think I have the flu or something, my head's killing me," he sulked, massaging the back of his neck.
"As they say Dean, know your limits," Sam teased, biting back a laugh as he tried to focus on his internet search.
"Sam!" Dean moaned, annoyed that his brother was messing with him, "Stop it, I'm really ill, I have a fever."
"Fine," Sam sighed, putting his fork down and rising from his chair, "let me check then." He sat down next to his older brother and placed a hand on his forehead.
"Nope," he shook his head after a few seconds, "you're fine Dean. You're a little bit warm, but not much. You probably just have a cold. Or it's a hangover," he repeated smugly, smirking as Dean frowned up at him, pursing his lips.
He scowled, "It's not Sammy, I ache all over." He turned onto his other side so his back faced his little brother instead; shunning him for being cruel.
"Oh Dean, don't get mad, I'm sorry dude," he grovelled, lying down next his brother and slipping an arm around his bare waist, nestling close to his smooth muscled back.
Dean continued to ignore him, remaining motionless and unresponsive while Sam ran his fingers over his muscled abs, "stop it," he growled, temptation almost getting the better of him.
"Forgive me then," he grinned, sliding his hands down his stomach and under the sheets and–
"Alright!" Dean insisted, grabbing Sam's hand and rolling over to face him, "I forgive you Sammy, okay?"
"Good," he smiled leaning in and kissing Dean softly. "Seeing as you're sick, maybe we'll take the day off and stay in bed. I couldn't find any leads anyway." He kissed him again, sliding his arms back around Dean's torso affectionately.
Dean licked his lips thoughtfully, "you taste of bacon. Fancy making me some of that?" he asked, giving Sam that special half-smile he kept for when he really wanted something.
"Fine," he said, unable to resist his pretty-boy older brother, rolling his eyes and reluctantly letting go of him.
"Thank you Sammy," Dean half-smiled again, "what would I do–"
"Wait," Sam paused, smiling mischievously, turning back to his brother, "I'm afraid you're going to have to give it a miss. No breakfast for you; sorry."
"What?" Dean yelled, sitting up and looking insulted, "Sam, if you're worried that you're turning into my bitchboy, then–"
"Remember the saying 'feed a cold, starve a fever' Dean?" Sam cocked his head and grinned.
"You know," Dean bit his lip, "I think I'm feeling much better. Maybe it is just a hangover..."