Each ficlet is five sentences.
Sam/Dean, Word: curiosity
As darkness fell outside the motel, Sam pushed the flimsy mattresses together. Dean only smirked and raised an eyebrow.
"I like it when you get curious, Sammy," Dean slurred, and Sam could hear the whiskey in his voice. Sam grinned back at him and felt the room tilt.
"You should've seen me at college."
Sam/Dean, Word: warm
The nights in Washington were getting colder, and Sam and Dean didn't plan for this.
When the temperature dropped below freezing and ice frosted the windows of the Impala, the brothers retreated to the backseat.
Dean's lips ghosted over Sam's neck as they slept and found warmth in each other.
When they awoke, Dean's head rested on Sam's chest, and Sam's arms were wrapped protectively around his brother. They grinned at each other in the early, yellowy light.
Sam/Dean, Word: wrath
Dean drove the Impala in stony silence. Sam could feel the wrath coming off him, almost a tangible thing that ebbed and flowed with hatred.
Sam knew that it should upset him- or even frighten him- that his brother was so angry, yet he couldn't help but smile. The nights he shared with an angry Dean were the best.
He rested a hand on his older brother's leg, and Dean smirked into the rearview mirror as if he could read thoughts.
Sam/Dean, Word: sated
Sam could barely keep his hands to himself. He needed to feel every inch of his brother, and he needed it now.
He felt Dean's breath hot on his neck as they moved together, all limb and mouth and tongue. Their eyes briefly met and Dean understood his brother's thoughts.
He couldn't stop until Sam's hunger for this had been sated.
Sam/Dean, Word: porcupine
"Dean, it's just a stupid animal," Sam rolled his eyes. He sat nestled into the passenger seat of the Impala while Dean ran to help the wounded animal in the road.
"Hey, possums are cool!" Dean argued as he used his shoe to scoot the animal over to the side.
"It's a porcupine, you moron," Sam laughed and for the first time in ages, he forgot that he'd be leaving for Stanford in a few weeks. Right now, and maybe for the last time in his life, it was just him and Dean and the road.
Sam/Dean, Word: popcorn
It was 2 A.M. and Sam didn't feel like arguing. He'd chosen the last movie and if Dean wanted to watch Saw 4, they would watch Saw 4.
Never mind that it was a ridiculous movie with exaggerated effects. Never mind that they'd already watched it once that night.
Sam sighed and went to pop the popcorn; he contented himself with the fact that he'd be able to drift off to sleep beside Dean, snuggled together in their pajamas.
Sam/Dean, Word: whisper
Dean Winchester was good at everything except whispering. When it was late at night and he needed to cross the motel room to reach the bathroom, Sam would wake up to his hushed curses that really weren't hushed at all.
"Dean?" Sam murmured one night after his brother had tripped over his phone charger.
"Yeah," Dean grunted, rubbing his foot and stifling a string of unpleasant words.
"Come lay beside me," Sam smiled in the darkness, "and I'll teach you how to whisper."
Sam/Dean, Word: washing machine
"What did you do?" Sam shouted when he entered Bobby's laundry room and saw soap suds everywhere.
"Aren't you supposed to put in all the detergent?" Dean asked frantically. He had foam on his nose and Sam couldn't help but laugh.
"Do you know that you're hopeless?" Sam walked over to his brother and kissed him right on the mouth, something he'd never done before. He felt Dean wrap an arm around him and hold him even closer.