Sleekness

Prompt: Dean's sick and he takes some OTC cold medicine. It makes his heart beat uncomfortably fast leaving him short of breath, nauseated, and hot. Feeling crappier than he was before. Sam lies next to him and rubs his back to try to calm him down. It helps - not a lot because the cold meds are causing the problem, not anxiety - but it does help some.

s&d

Sam gives the shirt two quick squirts of steam and passes the iron over it. He glances at the half-shut bathroom door, where the water sounds and the razor sounds have both stopped. "Almost ready?" He flips the button-up over and smoothes the hot metal across its back, gets a whiff of warm cotton.

"Sab?" Dean's in the doorway. "I, uh..." He blinks bright eyes. He's flushed and damp, hair spiked up from the shower. A thin trickle of blood glistens on his jaw.

"You OK?"

One arm cradles his belly. "I feel uh, weird."

Sam dumps the iron and goes to him. Dean leans in hard, shaky and fever-warm. "Whoa, OK. You're OK. I gotcha."

With help, Dean lowers himself stiffly to the bed and then splays out on his back, panting. "WIT-TZZHHHSHSH!" He snuffles and swipes at his nose.

"Wow." Sam perches on the mattress and strokes his red cheek, pushes back sweaty hair. "God. You look terrible."

Dean sighs and leans into the touch. "Hghh."

Sam thumbs blood from his jaw. He reaches for a tissue and presses it to the wound. "Got a little nick here." Dean's chest is rising and falling too quickly. "What happened, man?"

"Duddo. Jus' feel like shit all of a suddedd."

"Maybe it was the cold pills." Sam plays his fingers over Dean's forehead, lets him take the Kleenex and blow his nose. "You've never had that kind before."

"Sab."

"Maybe we should hit up a clinic."

"C'bere."

Sam freezes. "Aw." He lunges for the iron, yanks its cord and checks the fabric.

"Is it fucked?"

Sam scratches the burn with his fingernail. "Yeah."

"Which wudd was it?"

He considers Dean, pink-faced on the mattress. "You look really sick."

"'Sdot that bad. Jus' c'bere. Wasd't the blue wud, was it?"

"It was the one with the white swirls, on white."

"I hate that shirt," Dean chuckles, waiting for Sam to settle and then mashing up into his chest.

Sam huffs. "So what, this is all a master plan to destroy it?"

"Works every tibe." Dean sniffles into Sam's ribs and sighs.

Sam draws a long stroke down Dean's back, then another.

"Wait." Dean clumsily peels off his T-shirt. New perspiration comes out on his face as he settles. "Ahh."

"Sweaty McSweat. You're gonna need another shower." Sam soothes his warm, bare skin steadily. The muscles start to give. "Maybe we should take your temperature."

"It was the pills. Dude, I'b fide. Just... keep rockigg that."

Sam gives Dean's hip a squeeze through his shorts and kisses the top of his head. He traces the soft spot behind his ear, nuzzles his eyebrow. Then it's big, slow circles with an open palm, smoothing out all the kinks and creases.

Dean murmurs something inquisitive, sneezes into Sam's armpit and starts to snore.

Snuggles

(Misplaced comment fic)

s&d

Dean drags the comforter to the couch and listens to Sam breathing in the dark. He sniffles guiltily, then eases his weight down to his brother's long body and tugs the thick blanket over them both.

"Susuh?" Sam slurs, his head lifting.

"S'OK," Dean murmurs. Sam sighs deeply and lays back.

Dean shivers at the new warmth, buries a soft sneeze in Sam's chest and wriggles his head up under Sam's chin. Sam's arms drift around him in sleep.