All it takes sometimes is one moment, a split second of distraction, a millisecond of distraction, and everything can change. Lightning lit the sky and Sam looked at Dean, chest heaving, flannel half torn off, dirty t-shirt plastered to impossible, beautiful musculature, highlighting every angle. Just for a moment, he looked, and he wanted.
"SAMMY!" Dean shouted. But it was already too late. A black form rushed at Sam's unprotected side, too close, too quick for Dean to get a shot off. Air left Sam's lungs in a rush and all he felt were the barest impressions of teeth, claws, and fetid-smelling fur before the lashing of the wind and rain became the rushing torrent of the river.
He choked and gasped, water filling his throat and lungs. He could no longer tell which way was up as he slammed into rocks and debris in the swollen river. But Sam was always a fighter. There was no chance he would be able to swim but he snatched at each rock with torn and bleeding fingertips. And time was running out. Black spots were already encroaching on his vision. The next blow could be to his head and he knew if he lost consciousness before he managed to stop, that would be it.
Through water blurred eyes, he saw the next rock coming toward him and a dark spot on its side that gave him hope. As the rough surface scraped the remaining skin off his right side, he shoved his arm inside the hole he had spotted and made a fist, hoping it would be deep enough and small enough to hold as the current gripped his body and tried its best to tear him away from his salvation. He screamed as his body snapped tight and the bones in his forearm snapped under the pressure. The pain followed him down into darkness.
~oOo~
Pain brought him back. Sharp. Grinding. A snap. And "shh, Sammy, I've got you."
"D'n?" Sam whispered, then groaned as Dean efficiently splinted his broken arm.
A sigh of relief. "Damn, you scared the shit out of me. Please don't do that again."
"Wh'r we?" Sam groaned as he tried to sit up.
"We're in the car. Can't go anywhere until this storm blows over."
Sam finally managed to pull open his gritty eyelids to see a familiar roof and leather seats that smelled like home. And, up close and personal, the sculpted chest and abs that had so distracted him, this time with nothing to block the view.
"Sorry, dude, can't really run the heater because I don't know how long we'll be here. And body heat is the best way to warm you up."
Sam sighed and snuggled back into his brother's side. If he could ignore the throbbing of his forearm and the too tight scabbing of the scratches and every single bruise that littered his battered body, this would be exactly the moment he had dreamed about since he was sixteen and realized the warmth that filled him every time his brother was close was more than just regular brotherly affection. And so he relaxed, skin on bare skin, allowing the warmth of Dean to soak into his aching body.
"It's ok, Sammy, I've got this," Dean's spoke softly.
"L've you," Sam sighed and stretched his neck up to plant a bold kiss on his brother's jaw. At that moment, Dean smiled fondly and turned to glance down at him and for one short moment, their lips met. And it only takes one moment, just that split second when defenses are down and relief overrides common sense, and everything can change.