"Can't believe you're going to an interview for an actual job. Like, at an actual accounting firm," Sam says, smirking. "Look hot as hell, though."
Dean rolls his eyes, buttoning his jacket and turning to press a chaste kiss to Sam's lips. "I'll be back. Love you."
Sam raises his eyebrow, surprised by the affection. "Love you, too, babe. Good luck."
Dean's gone for two and a half hours. Sam's getting anxious when he finally hears the door click open. "Dean?"
When Dean steps inside, he kicks the door shut and sets a paper bag down on the counter. "Hey."
"What's in there?" Sam asks, closing his laptop and standing to cross the room to his brother.
"Alcohol," Dean answers vaguely.
"Wine or whiskey?" Sam asks, attempting to specify whether they're 'fuck it' drinking or celebrating.
"Why don't you look?" Dean asks, somehow managing to lift Sam onto the counter beside the bag and nudge his legs open to step between them.
Sam snorts and slides the bag closer to him. "Okay," he says, peering inside. When Sam sees the contents, he grins. There's a bottle of Chardonnay and a large chocolate pie. "No fuckin' way," he says, looking back up at Dean.
Dean's smile mirrors his own, and he nods. "Yeah, baby boy. I got it."
Sam's legs are wrapped around Dean's waist faster than he thinks possible, their mouths crashing together, mumbles of, "Jesus fucking Christ," and, "So goddamn smart," and, "So proud of you," slipping from between Sam's lips.
Dean turns around eventually to retrieve forks for the pie, but Sam pulls him back, locking his legs back around him from behind and slipping the button through the hole on his jacket. "Sammy-"
"Shhh," Sam whispers, leaning down to bite at Dean's ear. "Just let me."
When he unbuttons Dean's shirt about halfway and shoves it to the side so that he can reach in and thumb at one of Dean's nipples, the pie is all but forgotten.