A/N: It's been a while since I updated, so I felt like I owed it to everyone. I'm all drugged up on Tryptophan so I was tired when I wrote this. It's kind of short, and I wasn't really feeling this chapter, but I will make it up in the next one! Happy Turkey Day everyone!

Spellcheck still isn't working, I apologize for the bad spelling.


Dean walked off the set on a Friday, letting the sun soak into his skin. The hard work he put in that week had paid off, for he had the rest of the weekend off. He stretched his arms out, feeling the muscles in his back become taught.

Sam emerged from his dressing room, his hair wet from the water he splashed on his face to cool himself down. "I call shower when we get back."

"Like hell you do," Dean punched Sam in the arm. "I'm the oldest, so I get first dibs."

Sam started to pout, but quickly added, "You going to pull me out if I get there first?" Dean was about to reply, but Sam had broke into a run to be first in the shower. Dean swore to himself before picking up his pace.

Sam burst through the trailer door, his shirt was already ripped off and his jeans half open. Dean was in short pursuit, but when he entered the trailer all he could see was Sam's naked ass stepping into the shower.

"Damnit Sam!" Dean shouted before collapsing onto the bed. The day had been long and Dean just wanted to relax after a nice shower. He climbed off the bed and stood up, figuring if he got to comfortable, he wouldn't want to shower.

leaned against the wall for a couple minutes before becoming restless and walking into the bathroom. "Hurry up, Sam." He shouted and started poking at the shower curtain.

"Not done yet." Sam laughed. "If you want to shower so bad, why don't you come in?"

Dean's brow furrowed at the thought. "You are one sick person, Sam."

"Can't blame a man for trying." Sam answered.

Dean had started to become more comfortable with Sam after the night he had gotten drunk. Deep down inside, Dean felt the same way, in some twisted way. He wasn't sure what he thought anymore, but the thought of Sam rumaging through his stuff didn't bother him as much anymore. In a way, it kind of excited him.

'I am one sick fucker, too.' "Come on, Sam." he pleaded.

"I'll come only if you help me." Sam giggled from behind the curtain.

'Maybe he's taking this a little to far. I can only put up with so much.'

Sam started huming as he stood in the shower. He planned on wasting as much time as possible to make Dean angry. Hell, it might even get him to join him. Sam pulled back one side of the shower curtain and stuck his head out. "You know, all the hot water is gonna run out soon."

"I would rather roll in mud." Dean answered harshly.

"Suit yourself." Sam finished before closing the curtain and grabbing the soap. Dean cursed under his breath. 'I'm going to get you back for this.'

He grabbed the shower curtain and flung it open. Sam jumped at the action and slipped on the shower floor, crashing to the ground, bumping his head on the wall. Dean laughed and grabbed Sam's arm, forcibly pulling him to his feet before pulling him out of the shower and stepping into it himself.

"Now stay out!" Dean shouted, closing the curtain. Sam layed on the bathroom floor, cold from the air cooling his wet skin. He rubbed his head, feeling a bump gently rise. Dean pulled one side of the curtain open to dump his wet boxers on the ground before resuming his shower.

"Not exactly what I had in mind." Sam spoke softly, climbing off the ground. Sam sat on the bathroom counter, waiting until Dean was busily huming his music before ripping the curtain open again and stepping in once more.

"Get the fuck out!" Dean shouted, almost slipping on the floor.

"Chill out," Sam spoke, "Turn around and ignore me if I'm so repulsive." Dean slumped against the wall, turning his back away from Sam. 'Not repulsive, just awkward.'

The shower was quiet, neither feeling very talkative as they washed themselves. Dean was gently rinsing the soap from his arms when Sam broke the silence. "I'll wash your back if you wash mine." Sam spoke, holding up a washcloth with soap on it. Dean shot him a glare before resuming his shower.

"Give me the soap, Sam." Dean asked, holding his arm out, but keeping his gaze in the opposite direction.

"Only if you say please." Sam answered, feeling pleased with how uncomfortable he was making his brother.

"Please." Dean's voice was more of a command than being polite.

"Mean it this time." Sam answered, gently rubbing the washcloth across Dean's shoulders.

Dean shuddered at the feeling, relaxing into the touch. 'What the hell am I doing?' he thought, suddenly straighting himself. He was starting to get annoyed, and turned around quickly, "Would you give me the fucking soap?"

"Sure." Sam answered, handing the soap over, feeling hurt by his older brothers attitude. "I was only messing around. You know that, right?"

Dean made a grunting noise as he turned away. Quickly lathering his chest with soap so he could leave 'I need to get out of here as fast as I can.'

Sam stepped closer, his chest firmly pressed against Dean's back, before gently whispering in his ear. "I saw how hard you were when you turned around. Do I make you hot, Dean?"

Dean grew red and pulled the curtain open, stepping out of it hastily. Dean bent over to grab the towel and was rewarded by a low throaty whistle from Sam. Wrapping a towel around his waist, the suds still present on his chest. "What is wrong with you?"

"Not my fault you got all hot and horny on me." Sam shouted

"You really are one sick mother fucker." Dean replied.

"Brother fucker." Sam corrected. Dean fumed and ran out of the bathroom, slamming the door, leaving Sam to finish his shower in quiet laughter.