Author's Note: Hi! So this is the first story that I've ever shared with anyone ever, so I'm really nervous. Please tell me what you think, I'd appreciate it so so very much! Thank you for reading!

They were finally getting back to normal, back to the swing of things. They were just going to be brothers again, but Sam had to drop that bomb. "So I think we should talk about the night I left for Stanford."

Dean's eyes almost exploded out of his head. "Yeah," Sam said, to reassure himself and to fill the silence that was sucking all comfort out of the Impala. He pulled off the road and put the car in park.

"Dude, not now."

"Yes now. If we're going to work together then we need to clear the air. Completely."

"No, come on. Just let things go back to the way they were. Don't worry about, don't even think about it, okay?"

"We can't just go back, Dean. We've both said and done things we can't forget about." Sam stared down his brother with such intensity it made Dean blink and look away.

"We're not going to talk about this. Just act like it never happened," Dean grunted.

"No, I want to talk about it." Sam felt the pressure against his chest, and Dean swallowed hard. "You don't have to say anything, just listen to me, okay?" Dean's lack of response told Sam it was okay to go on. "Alright, well," he started to fish for words. "I'm sorry about what I said that night. I have never thought you were disgusting." Dean's cheeks flushed a violent pink as he set his jaw. "What I mean is," Sam continued before his emotionally stunted brother could block him out, "I always thought that I… I had these..," he stumbled as he braced himself to make a confession he never thought would come out. Dean's hard green eyes fixed on him, and Sam bit his cheek to keep himself in check. He didn't want to get too emotional lest his older brother call him a girl and refuse to talk anymore.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice only slightly hoarse.

"Come on man, at least try and make this easy for me." Dean nodded and lowered his eyes to the space between them. "I just always thought I saw the freak," Sam tried again. "I always had these weird feelings about you." He ran his hand reassuringly through his hair before his last confession. "Still do."

At that point, Dean's worried frown made him look like her was about to be sick. Sam wondered if he had crossed a line. "You're not just yanking my chain, are you, Sammy?" he grunted. Their eyes met once more. Sam bit down a little harder on his cheek. Don't cry, he told himself repeatedly as he shook his head no. How could he have been so stupid? He'd hurt Dean in ways he didn't even understand, and here he was four years later hoping against hope his older brother felt the same way.

They must have stayed that way, just looking at each other, for at least ten minutes before Dean's ice cold expression melted into a small smile. "Well, if you're a freak than I am too." Sam chuckled in relief. Dean took his little brother's hand in his and closed his eyes. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could stay in this peace forever. "At least we can be freaks together," he grinned.

Sam failed at hiding his smile, and he decided the best thing for them to do would be to start driving again and figure out whatever they needed to when they weren't trapped together in the car. They could find a motel where they could hash out their feelings. Now wasn't the time. He pulled back out onto the road, and Dean punched on the radio.

They spent the rest of the rides stealing smiles at each other, laughing a bit whenever they caught one another's eye. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, or if they should be doing it. Dean stared out the window into just plain darkness thinking about how incredibly lucky he was that his brother didn't hate him, how he was even luckier that the kid felt the same way. If their dad only knew… Not that he ever would. Dean knew he was alive, and he knew they would find him, but when they did they would never, ever tell John any of it. Sam pulled into a parking lot of yet another crappy ass motel, and Dean realized now they would be having the most awkward conversation of his life. He didn't quite know if he was ready for this to actually happen.

A familiar question came from the girl at the front desk. "A king or two queens?" she asked while bopping to the one earphone she had in. For the first time ever Dean did not know how to answer. Sure, they usually got to queens, but what if that had changed now? What if Sam thought Dean was playing with him and got upset that he didn't get a king? He wasn't usually one to overanalyze, but this was Sam. This was different.

"Two queens," Sam said to the girl, taking the pressure off Dean. Good god, he thought to himself, grow a pair. The young redhead gave them their key, and they hesitantly made their way to room 143. The door swung open to reveal the same old, same old. Some dusty beds with god-awful maroon sheets and the whole room was wrapped in a mustard yellow wallpaper with fleur de lis that were a slightly different shade of red. Just as ugly as ever.

Sam threw his bag on one of the beds, before sinking to the floor and resting his head on the mattress. "Lord," he whispered to himself, but Dean heard him anyway.

"I guess we should talk about this," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, what we are now."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, but neither of them made a move to start the conversation. Dean was still standing at an awkward distance from the door. "Would you at least sit down?" Sam sighed. Dean made a move like he was going to sit on his bed, but Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit next to him. "I won't bite."

"Well, that's a damn shame," Dean teased. He was trying to play it cool, which was stupid, as Sam knew him better than any dumb girl he had ever hit on. But his comment relaxed Sam, and the younger brother genuinely smiled and pulled Dean's hand into his lap. "Okay, let's just start this rodeo."

Sam interlocked his fingers with the hand he held in his lap. "Fine. I'll just put it out there then. I really care about you. As more than a brother. I always have, but you already know that. I know that it's strange, and weird, and freaky, but and it's probably really wrong. All the same. I think that if we legitimately care about each other then we should be open about that." Dean didn't say anything; he didn't even look at Sam the entire time he was speaking. "Well?" Sam asked, trying to keep himself from choking up.

Those beautiful green eyes that had haunted Sam's dreams the entire time he had been in Stanford now looked up at him with such confusion he wanted to pull his brother to him. He wanted to make it all simple and normal, but mostly he wanted it to be the easiest decision Dean ever made. He wanted the eyes to turn to him smiling and to say, "Yes, of course I'll be your boyfriend. I love you." But he knew they never would. Even if they did decide to do this, it would be a secret so well kept they wouldn't ever talk about, not even with each other. Sam didn't even want to think about how much more complicated their lives would be if Dean said exactly what Sam wanted most.

"We are so screwed," was all Dean said, though. His eyes stayed unwaveringly on Sam. They sat there for so long Sam started just counting seconds. He didn't know what else to do.

"Are you ever going to answer me, dude? Any input at all?" He asked at 497. If he had held out those last 3 seconds till 500 he might have choked the man sitting across from him. But Dean still didn't say anything. Instead, he took his hand away from Sam's and wrapped it around his younger brother's neck. For just a few seconds he sat the stroking Sam's hairline, then more slowly than Sam even knew his brother could move, Dean closed in on him. His kiss was so light that Sam could have imagined it, and he had to reassure himself twice that he didn't.

As Dean returned to his normal sitting position he could see his own hands shaking. He was sure the rest of him was too, and he was ashamed of that. Sure, he should have been more ashamed of the fact that he had kissed his baby brother, but no. He didn't want Sam to see that he scared by this. That was what embarrassed him.

"Is that a yes?" Sam asked, hope glinting in his smile. That did it. Dean just couldn't resist that beautiful smile. It made Sam look like such an innocent, and that was all Dean had ever wanted him to be.

"That's a hell yes, Sammy." He steadied his hand before grabbing his brother's. Then he pressed it against his cheek. Sam stroked Dean's scruffy face as Dean kissed his knuckles and closed his eyes. "This is going to be way too complicated," he sighed.

Sam pulled his hand away and readjusted himself so he would be directly in front of Dean. "Then let's uncomplicated it a little. Lay some ground rules."

Dean laughed a little. "Okay then. Rule number one is never, ever, ever tell Dad."

"Agreed," Sam said with a smile. "Rule number two. There's got to be a recognized difference between brother time and, well, not brother time." Dean nodded with a crazed look in his eyes, like he could imagine nothing more horrifying than acting like the older brother while kissing Sam. "That means you can't call me kid during those times, okay?"

"Fine, fine," Dean agreed. "Rule number four…"

"Three, Dean." He glared at Sam. The younger man just smirked.

"Shuddup. Rule number three is we're brothers first. No matter where this freaky thing goes we're always going to be brothers, right?"

"Right. Rule number four. Always get two queens." He nudged Dean's shoulder, referencing his blunder at the front desk. "We don't need anyone getting suspicious if we accidentally let slip we're related. People think we're weird enough as it is."

"I'm sorry okay? I didn't know if I was going to offend you or anything." Dean threw his hands up in a "don't shoot" way.

"I'm not offended. I was just saying.

"Alright then. Rule number five." Dean smirked as he uncrossed his legs and made his way off the floor. He pulled in close to Sam as he winked and said, "I'm on top."

Sam rolled his head as if Dean's aggressiveness had slapped him. "Uggh, Dean." Dean laughed, but that made him realize. Maybe they could do this after all. He'd waited four years to hear Sam tell him that he felt the same way Dean did, that they had the same screwed up thoughts about each other. Even though he finally heard it tonight, it hadn't made him as exponentially happy as he thought it would. He'd felt his stomach drop and his head immediately started aching. He'd thought this would ruin everything he'd worked for the last few weeks to rebuild with Sammy. Maybe it still would, but then again, maybe it wouldn't.

"Now that we have all the things we can't do out of the way," Dean mused, "I've got a question or two about the things we can do."

He was met only by a raised eyebrow from his brother. "Uh, okay. Shoot."

"Well, are we a couple?" Sam smiled at that. Didn't they just decide that ten minutes ago? That had been the entire conversation if he had understood correctly. "Like, I guess, yeah we're a couple, but I mean are we..," he cleared his throat. "Are we boyfriends?"

Sam just watched his older brother's face. He got where Dean was coming from with that question. He wasn't asking if they were going to label themselves, or whatever, he was asking whether or not they'd do all the things boyfriends did. Would they go on movies and buy each other flowers? Would they tell the other how beautiful he was and hold hands? Would they be an actual couple or would that just be too weird? They had never said that they would actually be in a relationship. They just decided to be open about their feelings.

"Yeah," he finally decided. "I want us to be boyfriends. Creepy related boyfriends, but I would like that." He felt better about voicing that when Dean half smiled.

"Me too." It seemed that night would be the queen of awkward silences, because again they just stood looking at each other.

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just taking that in." Dean shook his head like he'd been far lost in his thoughts. Sam didn't even want to know what they were. "And what's our policy on physical stuff, like kissing and… what not."

Leave it to Dean to make everything about sex. He wasn't trying to make a pass or anything in that question though. He honestly was trying to figure out their comfort level, at least for the moment. Of course they'd start out slow, most couples do, but he needed to know where Sam's line was.

"Come on man, not now. Let's try to be a little sensitive in this moment…"

"I am trying to be sensitive. Normal couples do that kind of stuff, but I don't want to try anything that would make you uncomfortable. So answer the damn question."

"Well I don't really know, do I? It might have slipped your notice, but I've never been in a romantic relationship with my brother before. I don't really know what the protocol is." Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He didn't care about what anyone else would do in their situation, he just wanted to please Sam.

"Do you want me to kiss you or not?" he finally asked when Sam looked at him hopelessly. Sam nodded his head.

"Of course I do."

He liked that answer. It made him smile. "Well, then let's just go with that. We'll get to the other stuff later, okay?"

"Okay." Sam took a step closer to him. He guessed they were going to try that kissing thing out now. Sam got this look in his eye, kind of similar to the one he got when they were hunting. He was in control, and he was dangerous. He was cornering Dean the same way he would corner monsters, and Dean had to admit, it was kind of sexy.

"Hello there," Dean said once Sam had him pressed against the wall. His open button up was being clenched by his brother, so he slipped his fingers into the man's belt loops.

"Hi," Sam whispered as he leaned his head down to kiss him. It was nothing like the kiss Dean had given him earlier. As soft and fleeting as Dean had been, Sam was the exact opposite. His lips pushed Dean's head back against the wall, and they stayed that way, perfectly wrapped in each other, for several minutes.

When Sam pulled away Dean stole a few more kisses off his lips before there was measurable space between them again. "You couldn't even imagine how many times I've wanted to do that," Sam whispered.

"Oh, I bet I could. Take that and double it for me. You've always been beautiful Sammy, and I've always been crazy about you." The taller man smiled and pressed his lips against Dean's forehead. He didn't kiss him, he just let his mouth feel the warmth of his skin. "We should probably get some sleep tonight," Dean suggested.

"Yeah." But neither of them made an attempt to move. If they moved, this perfect moment would fall to pieces, and maybe when they woke up in the morning they would realize exactly what they were doing and decide it was a big mistake. Neither of them could handle that. Sam pecked Dean's forehead before pulling away and collapsing on his bed. Dean sulked over to the uninhabited mattress and sat on the edge of it, collecting his thoughts.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jeans and socks before cozying himself under the covers. He was hyperaware that Sam had not yet moved from the spread eagle position he'd fallen into. "Sam?" he coughed.

"Yeah?"

"You gonna go to bed or what?" The big man looked over at Dean and smiled. Sam took off his own shoes and went into the bathroom with some sweat pants. "Really?" Dean called after him. "You feel uncomfortable changing in front of me now?"

Laughter came from behind the closed door. "I've always been uncomfortable with it. I just never had a reason until now." He reappeared with his jeans and his t-shirt folded in his arms, and Dean tried his best not to stare at his tanned, muscular chest.

"Cover yourself," he muttered, turning over and pulling his blanket up to his chin. "And turn the lights off before you lie down." Sam did as he was told and shut the lights off, but seeing Dean wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets was the sweetest thing Sam had seen all day. He couldn't help himself. He climbed into bed with him and snuggled into his brother's back. It freaked Dean out a little. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It's called spooning."

"I know what it's called."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Why are you doing it?"

Sam sighed. "I don't know, maybe because I want to feel close to you or something. Maybe I'm just really cold."

Dean grunted, "Then you should put a shirt on," but made no more objections. Instead, he readjusted himself back, closer into Sam's arms.