Summary: Dean's high on pain meds and he confesses things to his brother he's kept long hidden.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, first kiss, you could argue consent issues with this because Dean's drugged. WINCEST, obviously.
Dean gets seriously fucked up on a hunt and Sam gives him strong pain meds before stitching him up. Pale and shaky he mumbles nonsense. Maybe he thinks he's gonna die, maybe there's just no filter from the drugs, but for whatever reason the confessions keep pouring out and he can't stop them.
"I used to come see you when you were in Stanford, Sammy. For a college boy you were sure oblivious to your big brother standing less than twenty feet away from you."
"I, I still have nightmares. Pulling you out of the fire, both times. I'm sorry Jess died, but I'm not sorry it gave me you."
"Sometimes when m'driving in my Baby and you're takin' a nap I can't stop lookin' at you, Sam. What do you think that means?"
"Lied when I said I wasn't afraid of anything. My biggest fear is losing you."
My brother is delirious, Sam tells himself. They're just words. When he's finished with closing his brother's wounds he tries to tuck him in. He wants to make a run for it, to leave the motel for a bit, get some air. He needs space, to be away from Dean.
But that's when Dean makes his move. He grabs Sam, twists his fingers into his shirt and pulls him close. "Kiss me," he hisses.
Sam's eyes are wide. He can smell gun oil and Dean. He licks his lips before speaking. "Fuck, Dean. I, I think you opened your stitches. Can we just…can we talk about this tomorrow when you aren't fucking high, Dean?"
Dean shakes his head. "If I don't do it now…"
It's wrong. Dean doesn't know what he's asking. He's fucking high out of his mind. Sam shouldn't say yes.
He closes the short distance between them, brushes his lips softly against Dean's. Sighs. Pulls back and raises a brow. "Satisfied?"
"Not even close," Dean growls and wow, okay, a little thrill goes through Sam at that tone. Dean smashes their lips together again. He bites down, coaxes his way inside. It's intense, too much, not enough, just right. Sam doesn't even know.
But then it's over. Sam can't focus on the shock of holy fuck, I just kissed my brother and liked it because he needs to make sure Dean doesn't bleed out. He checks the wound, sees if there's any extra damage and thankfully there isn't.
Dean snores peacefully as Sam lays down in his own bed.
He tentatively touches a finger to his lips and curses.