No longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for: both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident.
The motel they stop at is the only one for miles in any direction, much less the one they're going. It's an oasis of fast food and gas and rest in the never-ending jungle of highways and back roads between Austin and Dallas, and they're certainly paying for it.
Damned hick town in the middle of nowhere, Sam can hear his brother muttering, and fucking twenty cents higher a gallon than the city, what the hell, and most importantly, as they limp into the room they've booked for the night, only one fucking bed, damnit, what is this.
Sam is the one who's sustained the most damage from their latest hunt, and they both know it. Dean acknowledges the fact with a quick glance around the room and a muttered, I'll take the floor.
Sam knows exactly how long that will last when he realizes the floor isn't even carpeted, just hard, cold cement. He knows Dean knows it too, but still his brother pulls out the sleeping bag and starts unrolling it.
"Dean," Sam starts, it's a king, we can share, he means to say, but he knows it'll sound too touchy-feely, too chick-flick moment, too dude, we're not gonna hafta hug, are we? They've done it before, shared a bed when the going got rough. But not since Stanford.
They haven't done a lot of things since Stanford.
"Get some sleep, Sam." Dean is, as always, avoiding the issue, and Sam is too tired to argue right then.
Dean spends the first hour tossing and turning, cursing under his breath at the hard floor. Finally, Sam turns over to peer at Dean through the darkness. "Dude, shut the hell up. I'm trying to sleep."
"Yeah, well that's great, you sleeping in the only bed and all. I swear this is worse than not sleeping at all." His brother huffs an irritated breath and sits up sharply. Sam hears him shuffle around, hears his muffled curses as he bumps into the nightstand, hears something being dragged towards the bed. Through the gloom he makes out the vague outline of the only chair in the room, and he sees Dean settle himself in it with a tired groan.
After that Sam manages to catch a few hours of sleep. He's woken again by Dean's angry mutterings as he shifts in the chair, trying to get comfortable.
"Dude, just get in the bed," Sam mutters blearily, not happy at being awoken. His broken rib aches, he has a headache, even his feet hurt.
"With you already in it? Sorry Sammy, but that bed hardly fits your jolly green giant body, let alone both of us." Dean replies after a moment.
"You'll fit." Sam says, reaching out to grab his brother's hand, tugging. Dean is warm under his fingers, and Sam is reminded of all those bygone days after he'd had his teenage growth spurt when Dean had refused to sleep in the same bed as him because he always ended up on the floor come morning.
"I swear Sam, if I wake up kissing the goddamned concrete I will totally kick your ass." But he's already ceding to the taller man's pull. "Shove over, bitch." Dean says, throwing back the covers. Sam shivers as the cool predawn air bathes his skin, but it's soon replaced by solid heat as his brother climbs in.
The two twist around, trying to find a comfortable spot and yet still leave breathing space for the other. They finally end up sort of mashed together, but at least Dean no longer feels the crick in his neck and Sam isn't hurting any more than he already has been.
After a moment of silence in which each listens to the other breathe, in, out, pained hitch of breath, slow exhale, Dean says, "We are never talking about this, ever."
Sam can only huff a laugh, and that is something he lets himself do, even if it hurts.
"I mean it, man. Completely off-limits, you hear me?"
"Sure, Dean."
And if he laughs a little when they wake up the next morning and Dean is half-on half-off the bed because Sam has, as usual, sprawled every which way possible, well, it's only fair.