"Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte's getting cold over here, Francis."

"Bite me."

Dean grinned at the short, succinct response.

But God, how Dean wanted to.

Among other unspeakable, immoral things to his baby brother.

Had wanted to for years.

***

"Now, why don't you go up there and give her a private strip-o-gram?"

"Bite me."

"No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks though, just enough to–"

Dean chuckled and closed his phone as he heard the click of Sam hanging up. He wanted Sam so much, but he kept pushing him, pushing him towards other people, so maybe in time Dean would be able to repress these feelings for Sam.

But every time Sam said those two words, thoughts that Dean shouldn't be thinking would always come into his mind.

***

Sweaty and sated, Sam collapsed on top of Dean, their breathing returning to normal. Sam was starting to drift off, and Dean wasn't going to let Sam fall asleep on top of him.

"You intending on getting off me any time soon?"

"Bite me." Sam said sleepily.

"If you insist, little brother."