Popped into my head while watching Game of Thrones, can't really explain. I have a strict line on Weecest; nothing too young, and nothing graphic under 16/18, depends on situation. No "shota." I refuse to make Dean out to be a pedophile taking advantage of his little brother, because that's not how I would like to have it portrayed and interpreted.

That being said. Warnings: Hinting at potential Weecest.

Sam loved these little moments. When he was alone with Dean, without John berating them or controlling their every move, when they weren't hurt or bloody from some creature, when they weren't fighting over god knows what. It was just them, it was serene, it was... nice.

It wasn't like Dean was complaining either. He liked it, too. He got lonely during the day, not that he would ever admit it. Twenty years old now, having dropped out of school three years ago, if he wasn't off on a hunt with John he was with Sam. Protecting his little brother, who was sixteen and still in school. John tried to get Dean off on more hunts now that he was technically an adult, but Sam wasn't. Dean felt obligated to stay around and look after him. Sam could hunt, too, just not as much as Dean. Dean could go solo. He just chose not to.

They were still hopping from motel to motel, and currently, John was in Nebraska hunting after something. The boys were in Wyoming. Dean was supposed to go with John on this one, but he bullshitted something about "too far away from Sam, what if something happens" and got to stay. By the skin of his teeth, but he got to stay.

Which lead to where they were now. Last room available in the motel had been a king bed- and they were too tired by the time they found this one to go comparison shop- on which they were currently laying, watching something on the small, slightly fuzzy TV.

Dean on one side of the bed and Sam next to him, Dean paying more attention to the show than Sam was. Sam was paying more attention to Dean, really. Something about his brother... Gave him awful thoughts. The way he looked up to Dean was more than just the way a little brother did. There was something else lying dormant. The way Dean was strong, the way he was so protective, the way he was so damn handsome.

Did he just think that?

The younger brother's eyes roamed over Dean's body, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. This was wrong, wasn't it? Right? He shouldn't be thinking like this, he shouldn't be having these... ideas. Right?

Sam turned his attention back to the TV, though he didn't really care what was on it at all, to be honest. How could he? He kept switching back between Dean and the TV, his eyes staying on Dean much longer than they did on the TV.

Sam repositioned himself back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, commanding his eyes to stay on the TV. But they wouldn't.

Come on, Sam. Put up or shut up. he thought, a philosophy he'd picked up from his brother.

Eyes locked on the TV, he slipped his arms down to his sides, one slowly finding its way over next to Dean. Didn't say a word, didn't hesitate, didn't think, before he took Dean's hand.

Seconds seemed to pass like hours for the boy then. Oh god, what had he done? Should have kept it to himself. It was wrong to think anyway.

And that was when he felt Dean squeeze his hand. Almost in a reassuring way.

"I love you, Sammy."