The words had long since blurred in front of Sam's eyes by the time he raised them from the book. Days of pouring over old texts and marking down newfound resources in case he would need them in the future took their toll on his body. His eyes stung, his back ached and Dean would swear that Sam aged every time he walked past him on his way to the kitchen. Loudly.

Sore ears would have to be added to the list, then. Great.

Sam sighed as he closed the book. Years had passed since his short university experience, but hunching over the Men of Letters' large collection of knowledge reminded him keenly of the countless hours he'd spend at the library, researching. In between he had grown used to the luxury of technology, what with information constantly available at his fingertips with his laptop and phone. It had been exciting to leaf through the ancient manuscripts, sure, but it was hard not to miss the glow of his screen.

"Sammy, you hungry?" called a voice from the other room. Sam ran his palms over his face and settled them against his temples, rubbing circles against his skin soothingly. "Yeah, I guess," he yelled back. Maybe some food would ease the throbbing.

Dean appeared in the doorway, balancing two plates in his hands and a couple of beers under his arm. He grinned at Sam as he placed everything on the table, taking the liberty to push aside the book in front of his brother and put in its place a small plate with a rather large sandwich on top.

"Hope you're in the mood for cold cuts, since that's all we've got."

Sam raised a brow as he accepted the offered beer Dean handed him, taking a long sip before putting it down next to his plate. "Thanks. Where did you get it?"

By the look Dean shot him from the opposite side of the table, one would have thought that he'd insulted him. "Dude, I made that."

"Really? I didn't know you could cook."

"Oh, hah hah. Just shut up and eat your sandwich or you won't grow properly, little brother."

Sam shook his head with a small smile. They both knew that he wasn't the one in need of growing, but he was hungry and not really in the mood to pick a fight. The sandwich looked fine (if not a bit comically oversized, being served on a saucer) and when he took a bite, it actually tasted...

"Good. This is pretty good," Sam admitted quickly before taking another bite. It was good enough to let Dean's intense stare slide. Not that his brother knew he was staring- Dean liked to think that his stealth looks were, well, stealthy. Sam didn't mind the happy upward curve of Dean's lips, though.

In fact, seeing how something so simple as appreciating a sandwich his brother made for him induced such satisfaction in Dean, made Sam just as content.

He reached out across the table with his free hand and placed it over Dean's. His brother considered him for a long moment before taking a bite of his own sandwich and then opening the nearest book, pointedly fixing his gaze on the page.

He didn't pull his hand away.

This drabble is my first time ever writing for these two, so I'd appreciate any kind of criticism and helpful tips regarding their characterization :')

Now, as to the drabble itself- this is my interpretation of the scene in which Dean makes Sam a sandwich in their "batcave". For some reason, that scene really stuck with me ;w;