"What are you all pissed about? Still mad because I wouldn't give you road head?" Dean asked dropping his duffel onto one of the twin beds.

"For the last time, I am fine," Sam answered. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Do you want some company?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam shut the door as he walked into the bathroom and locked it, just in case Dean tried to get in with him anyway.

So Sam was a little upset, and maybe he was being immature about it but his feelings were hurt and it was not just because Dean wouldn't give him road head. He could care less about that. He took a quick shower and left the bathroom grabbing semi clean clothes from his duffel and changing.

"We need to do laundry," he said zipping his jeans.

"I think we passed a twenty for hour one on our way back," Dean replied going through his own clothes. "They are pretty ripe." He wrinkled his nose at the smell from of his clothes.

They drove to the laundromat in silence and Sam sorted their clothes while Dean got a few rolls of quarters.

"Dean? What the hell are you doing?" Sam said.

"Might as well wash these too," Dean replied tossing his shirt and jeans into the washer. He sat on the folding table clad only in his boxers and leaned back on his hands. "You gonna tell me what's got your panties in a twist?"

"If I recall, you're the one who likes wearing panties," Sam pointed out.

"I don't hear you complaining," Dean smirked. "But you never answered my question."

"I told you, I'm fine," Sam answered. "And it has nothing to do with you not giving me road head."

"Something's bothering you Sammy. You can tell your big bro…," Dean said grabbing his hips by the belt loops and pulling him to stand between his legs. "You know I hate seeing you upset."

"Really Dean, it's nothing," Sam said shaking his head.

Dean nodded. "If you're sure."

Sam gave him a smile before going to move their clothes to the drier. Dean stretched his arms above his head and Sam watched the way his muscles flexed. He ran his gaze down to the half tent in his boxers before looking away.

Dean saw and smirked. "LIke what you see?"

"Always do," Sam answered crossing his arms over his chest.

"You know, we're the only ones here," Dean replied looking around.

"Dean, no," Sam said. "There are camera's."

"They can't see us and we'll be long gone by the time someone finds out," Dean replied. "Come on. I'll let you bend me over the table."

"Why? So you don't have to look at me?" Sam snapped without realizing.

"What?" Dean asked. He blinked confused. "Why would you think I wouldn't want to look at you?"

"Because you're ashamed to be having sex with your brother," Sam answered. "Every time we have sex you're always facing away from me Dean. Or you want to be blindfolded, or if you decide to ride me, you have your back to me. If having sex with me bothers you that much, then maybe we should just stop."

"Come here," Dean said.

"No. I don't-"

"Get your ass over here bitch," Dean interrupted.

Sam muttered a half hearted jerk under his breath but walked over the Dean and found himself once again standing between his older brother's parted legs. Dean leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and gentle and so unlike some of their other's kisses that Sam found himself leaning into it.

"First of all, does that seem like I'm ashamed to be with you Sam?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head.

"Good. Now listen, because I'm only going to say this one," Dean told him. "I am not ashamed to be with you Sam. I love you. I have loved you for a very long time and yeah, maybe us being brother's is probably screwed up but who cares? When have we ever done the socially norm thing huh? I sure as hell don't care and I'm not afraid to say that I love it when my baby boy shoves his monster dick up my ass."

Sam blushed at the wording and rolled his eyes. "Dean…"

"I'm not finished. If anyone is to blame about our relationship it's dad. All those nights sleeping in the back seat of the impala, in shared motel beds...we are emotionally, and physically dependent on each other and yeah, it's not healthy and maybe we're fucked up, but I don't care. Because I will always love you, and care about you because you...Christ Sam. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you. I will never be ashamed of being with you. Do you understand me?" Dean finished. "I mean come on Sam. I wouldn't suck your dick if I didn't."

"What was I supposed to think Dean?" Sam asked. "You never face me…are you...are you shy?"

Sam watched as a slow blush started building on Dean's face.

"You're shy aren't you? Why?" Sam asked surprised.

"Do you not hear yourself when you talk? I mean damn Sammy. The words that come out of your mouth would make a porn star blush," Dean said. "And stop laughing. It's not funny."

He punched Sam's arm and he only laughed more.

"I'm sorry, really I'm sorry it's just. I thought you were ashamed but it turns out that you were just shy and shy does not fit your personality," Sam chuckled.

"Fuck you," Dean said getting down from the table and shoving Sam out of the way so he could get their clothes from the dryer. He pulled on his jeans and t-shirt before setting the rest on the table to start folding.

"Oh come on Dean. Don't be like that," Sam said walking back over. "I think it's cute."

Dean shot Sam a glare over his shoulder and began folding his clothes. Sam hugged him from behind and rest his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Really Dean. You have no idea how much it means to me knowing that you aren't ashamed to be with me," Sam sighed. "I don't know if I could handle that."

They stood in silence. Dean folding their clothes, Sam with his arms around Dean.

"Do you blush?" Sam asked asked breaking the silence after a bit.

His answer was Dean shoving one his flannel's into his face. "Fold your own damn clothes."