Chapter 4
Dean's side ached as he sat Sam down on the end of his bed. He knew Sammy was tall but never knew how heavy he was. His mind wondered as he thought about what lean muscle Sam was hiding under those clothes of his; a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach gently purred at the thought. But seeing the poor sight of Sam sat hunched over on his bed, pulled Dean out of his happy day dream. He found Sam's bag and pulled out some long thick pyjama bottoms and thick sweater.
'Dude, you're soaked through, as soon as you get into these, you'll be much warmer', Dean said, holding out the clothes to Sam.
Sam lifted his head, slowly, as if it were made of lead. He looked at Dean with little understanding, and then let his head drop again. He lifted his arms high in the air and held them there.
Dean shifted weight from leg to leg for a moment, looking puzzled at Sam's long arms that were almost at the same height as him standing. It wasn't as if Dean had never seen Sam undressed before. It just felt weird that his brother was practically asking Dean to undress him. In fact, it didn't feel weird at all; it made Dean feel good; really good. That was what was weird. Dean wondered if Sam knew what he was doing to Dean, particularly his heart rate.
'Sammy, I'm not gonna dress you. You're too long, it's gonna be so difficult', Dean said, his throat turning dry.
'Deean.'
The sound was just a quiet moan, beneath long brown hair, but it made Dean move and step towards Sam. Dean sighed, and reached down rolling Sam's t-shirt as he pulled it up, and over his broad shoulders. He pulled it over Sam's head and then completely off his arms, throwing it on the floor. He grabbed the sweater and began to roll it, so that it would be easier to slip it onto Sam.
For a drunk, Sam moved incredibly fast, his hands snaked around Dean's waist and he pulled him in tight, resting his head on Dean's lower stomach. Dean wriggled slightly, shocked by the sudden movement and closeness of his brother. He looked down at Sam's brown hair, as Sam gently rubbed his head against Dean's stomach.
'Hmm...So warm...' Sam mumbled. His hands beginning to wonder around Dean's back, fingers tracing around the band of his belt. Dean froze though his body began to heat up. He rested his hands on Sam's shoulders as he could feel the uncomfortable tightening in the front of his jeans.
'Sammy... Sam', Dean choked out.
Sam's fingers found the hem of Dean's t-shirt and slipped under, towards Dean's back.
'Whoa! Sam!', Dean jumped back, Sam almost falling towards the floor, but caught himself just before slipping off the bed. 'Dude, your hands are freezing!'
There was a sly, smug smile creeping onto Sam's face. Dean could swear he was quietly laughing under his breath.
'Dude, come on, let's just get your pants on, then we can get you to bed', Dean said, chuckling slightly. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened. Whether this was just drunken Sam acting; well, drunk. Or Sam was acting on something much deeper. After Dad's death, Dean couldn't deny that the two of them had gotten a lot closer, but Dean always made himself think that it was just 'brotherly'. But Dean began to think of the way Sam would catch the way Dean looked at him, because Sam would be looking at Dean the same. And the physical closeness of them had changed too; the brushes, and touches, they had become so much more common.
Dean shook his head; maybe he was just making this stuff up. Maybe his head was imagining things, just to make himself feel better that he was feeling things that he shouldn't for his brother.
After a difficult and slightly awkward time getting Sam's wet jeans off, and getting him to put on the pyjama pants, Dean finally got his brother to get into the bed.
'Dean?', Sam grumbled, from under the duvet that he had pulled over his head.
'Yeah Sammy?', Dean said, lingering at the bedside.
'Where's your jacket?' Sam's voice had gone significantly quieter.
Dean frowned, not sure why Sam needed his jacket. He grabbed it from where he had hung it over a chair, and pulled back the duvet to give it to Sam.
'Here ya go dude', Dean said, watching intently to see what Sam wanted with it.
Sam laid it under his head, laying on the soft lining, and held one of the sleeves in his hand. He took a long sniff in the fabric.
'Hmm. . . . Smells of Dean', Sam mumbled out, his eyes shut as he spoke.
Dean smiled, and felt a fluttering in his stomach. He leant down to Sam, and gently kissed his brother's head. He tucked the duvet around Sam, making sure there was no space for cold air to seep in. Sam's breathing became heavy, and he quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.
A/N: Sorry this is so short! I have only just been able to get back to my computer , I hope you enjoy what there is of it anyway.
