"You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

Sam playfully smacked Dean's chest. "Whatever. And even if you were being serious, it wouldn't mean much. You were only four."

"Yeah, well... it meant a lot to me." Dean brushed Sam's hair out of his face, leaning down to kiss his slightly warm forehead.

Sam glanced up at his brother, snuggling closer against him. They'd been lying in bed all day because Sam was sick, and when Sam was sick, Dean may as well have been, too. At least, that was about as much as he was worth to anyone but Sam. "Why're you being all chick-flicky? I didn't even ask you about this shit and you just started rattling off everything you felt when Mom and Dad brought me home."

"I just... I dunno, I know it makes you feel better, okay?"

"Wow. You have a real heart in there?" Sam pressed his hand against Dean's left pec and pretended to feel for a heartbeat.

Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "Shut the hell up."

"Make me," Sam commanded, almost mischievously.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, maybe when I'm not afraid you'll cough up a lung into my mouth."

Despite his effort to sound angry, Sam couldn't help but laugh, too. "Fair enough."

Dean took on a serious tone again, and he asked, "Are you feeling any better at all?"

Sam nodded, his eyes fluttering closed. "Yeah. Tired, though."

Dean tightened his arms around Sam and rubbed one hand soothingly over his back. "Go to sleep, baby boy. I'll still be here when you wake up."

But Sam shook his head. "Done sleeping. I need to do something productive."

"Yeah. That's gonna go over well. Why don't you try standing up again, and we'll see how long it takes for you to get dizzy enough to fall?"

"Maybe I don't need to get up to do something productive," Sam hinted suggestively.

Dean shifted so that Sam's head was resting on his chest. "You can barely breathe as it is. So, as tempting as the offer may be, I don't think you need a cock blocking your airway right now."

"Well... okay, you're probably not wrong, but if I can't do anything, I'd at least like to feel less gross. Which would require showering. Which would require assistance. You know. Since I can't stand and all."

"You're horny when you're sick, you know that?"

Sam turned onto his stomach, one leg on the mattress, the other covering one of Dean's, and the press of his dick into the side of his brother's thigh was enough to get him semi-hard. "'M'horny all the time. When I'm with you, anyway," he admitted in a low, rough voice, tilting his head to press a kiss to the side of Dean's neck.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. "Sam..."

"Dean?"

That was it. His own name no more than a hot breath in his ear, and Sam had all of his blood pulsing south. "God dammit... get up."

Sam backed away a little to meet Dean's eyes, which, to his surprise, were lust-blown all of a sudden. "...Why?"

"Because. We're getting in the shower."

Sam blinked. That hadn't taken nearly as much persuasion as he'd expected. "Really?"

"Well, you are sick. And I'm supposed to make you feel better, right? I've already put in my quota of good, emotional big brother for the day, so I've gotta balance out the spectrum. Now, hurry up. Before I change my mind."

Sam felt his dick go from half-mast to full hard-on in record time at the promise behind Dean's words.

"Conditions, though," Dean warned, before Sam could get too excited. "I know you're a cock slut, Sammy. Believe me, I know. But for the time being, I'll be the one sucking you off."

Alright. Not exactly what he'd been hoping for, maybe, but much better than nothing. He gave Dean a compliant salute.

"Oh, and Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"If you sneeze on me while I'm blowing you, I swear to god..."