Time Apart

Sam flung his pillow onto the floor and sighed in exasperation.

He was sure that it was now the fifth or sixth time that he'd kicked the blanket away and thrown the pillows around in a futile attempt to get comfortable.

He'd got so used to the bed-sharing with his brother over the past few months that he'd almost managed to convince himself that sleepless nights and uncomfortable beds were becoming a thing of the past.

Yet tonight, after he and Dean had argued for most of the day and Sam had told Dean to get separate rooms because he couldn't deal with his older brother's glares and yelling for the rest of the evening, Sam was now faced with the reality of a cold, half-empty bed-and a room without Dean-for the rest of the night.

Sure, he was mad at Dean, and Dean was mad at him in return, but the fact that they were engaged in one of their typical weird standoffs didn't make the lack of physical contact and brotherly affection any easier.

It also didn't make Sam any less concerned about his brother's well-being, especially when he knew that Dean had left the motel hours ago to go drink at a local bar, leaving with a murmured, "Don't wait up," and Sam hadn't seen or heard him return to his room yet, even though he'd already looked out the window at least fifteen times and he'd tried to be as quiet as possible in his room so that he could hear Dean's footsteps outside if- no, when he came back to the motel.

Even if Sam had been resting in the most comfortable bed at some kind of luxury hotel, he knew that he still wouldn't have been able to get to sleep until his brother returned safely from his night of drinking.

Sam had been mad at Dean since he'd acted on his brotherly instinct and jumped in front of his older brother just before he'd been attacked by an angry demon, and, instead of showing any kind of gratitude or appreciation when everything was taken care of and their hunt was over, Dean had chosen to get mad at Sam for putting himself in danger and taking what he considered to be an unnecessary risk.

Sam had then got angry in return, yelling something about how he was tired of Dean always treating him like a kid, and how he could make his own decisions, and that Dean would have reacted in exactly the same way if it had been the other way round and the demon had been about to get to Sam.

The yelling had eventually turned into silent glares and sulky expressions (from Sam, anyway), and they'd spent the rest of the evening refusing to talk to one another, until they pulled up into the motel parking lot and Sam told Dean to get separate rooms.

Sam sighed in exasperation as he thought about how this recent argument had put an obstacle in the way of what had otherwise been a happy few weeks.

Things had been so much easier between them since their weekend away at the cabin and their 'slumber party'. Dean had definitely looked more relaxed and happy after their break, and he'd driven the Impala with a smile, humming along to the songs blasting out of the car radio.

Even when the two of them arrived at their next small town and they returned to hunting, things had definitely felt easier and less tense between the two of them, and even though their hunt was tiring and stressful, they had still got a room with a double bed at their latest motel, sleeping close together every night, usually after Dean practically dragged Sam over to the bed while he told Sam that he was staying up way too late to do research.

Everything had been so calm and relaxed between the two of them that Dean even drunkenly fell asleep with his head on Sam's shoulder in the corner of a bar where they went out for drinks after Dean insisted that Sam take a night off from his research.

The barmaid chose that moment to bring over yet another beer for Dean, and she'd smiled sweetly at the two of them and used the aww-how-cute expression that annoyingly seemed to cross the faces of almost every desk clerk when they asked for a double bed.

Sam had kind of felt like he should give her some sort of explanation, seeing as how she then started to make comments on how comfortable Dean looked, as well as asking Sam if he was okay with a guy sleeping on his shoulder.

"It's just something we do sometimes," Sam had mumbled with a shrug, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. As he spoke, Dean had thrown an arm around Sam's waist and mumbled, "Sammy."

"It feels kind of nice," Sam had then confessed to the smirking barmaid, knowing that there was no way that he would ever have admitted to anything like that in public if he hadn't been really drunk.

As he practically carried his brother back to the motel room that night, Sam had simply breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the conclusion that Dean would have been way too drunk to overhear any of Sam's conversation with the barmaid.

Sam sighed to himself as his thoughts were brought back to the present and he was forced to focus on his uncomfortable bed again.

Everything had been going so well, and it was therefore kind of sad that their recent argument had pushed them into spending time apart.

After a quick check of his phone, where a drunken text message from Dean with a lot of unnecessary exclamation marks indicated that his brother was fine and still out drinking, Sam sighed yet again and he tried his best to lie down and close his eyes...

"Sammy!"

What felt like moments later, Sam was startled out of his fitful sleep by the sound of someone calling his name outside the motel room door and the sound of loud knocking.

He jumped out of bed, already preparing himself for a potential fight. His years as a hunter had taught him to go from half-asleep to fully alert in about half a second.

"Sammy, open up!"

However, at the sound of the voice calling his name for the second time, Sam felt his whole body relax as he recognized the familiar voice of his brother.

He felt kind of annoyed that Dean had woken him up with his yelling and ruined his already disturbed sleep, especially when he'd been mad at his brother for most of the day, but on the other hand, he was also kind of relieved, knowing that Dean was back at the motel and that he wouldn't have to go out into the night and look for him, and…yeah, honestly, there was something comforting about hearing Dean's voice after they'd ignored each other for the past few hours.

Sam opened the door tentatively, still staying fully alert in case Dean was injured or distressed and he needed Sam's help.

Yet the second he caught a glimpse of his brother, who was swaying slightly on the spot with the goofy grin that Sam only ever saw when Dean was drunk, Sam knew for sure that there was nothing wrong with Dean, and that the only 'distress' he'd have to deal with would be a hangover in the morning.

"Sammy!" Dean repeated, grinning even wider as though they hadn't been throwing glares at each other all day. He opened his arms wide as he continued to sway on the spot.

"What do you want, Dean?" Sam demanded, hoping that his folded arms and his best attempt at the bitch-face were effectively conveying his anger.

"Ah, don't be like that, Sammy," Dean whined. He pushed past Sam and staggered right into the room.

"Dean!" Sam protested, even though he hadn't exactly made any effort to stop Dean from getting in. "You have your own roo-"

"Shh!" Dean cut him off, holding out a hand and closing his eyes, as though Sam's yelling were way too much for him to deal with right now. "G-get into bed, Sam," Dean continued, coming around slightly after he looked like he'd zoned out for the past few seconds.

Sam stared at him in wide-eyed shock, almost not believing that Dean had the nerve to barge into his room and boss him around after they'd already been arguing about how Dean always treated him like a kid.

"Come on, Sam, it's late, and we haven't got all night," Dean added, using what Sam guessed was an attempt at the authoritative-older-brother-voice. He gestured in the direction of Sam's queen-sized bed.

Sam wanted to yell, or sulk, or protest, or tell Dean to get out, he really did, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was still kind of shocked and bewildered by Dean's presence in his room, and also the fact that Dean was so drunk that he could barely stand up and his older brother was acting like an idiot, because suddenly, his feet were moving in the direction of the bed without Sam even making a conscious decision to do what Dean said, and then he was slowly getting under the covers.

He tried his best to ignore the accusing voice at the back of his mind that was trying to tell him that he was only going along with this because he thought that maybe there was a chance that Dean was going to get into the bed too and then he could have the close contact with his older brother again without any yelling or awkwardness, and also a few hours of peaceful sleep before the morning.

Sam didn't make it totally easy for Dean, though; he deliberately moved over to Dean's preferred side of the bed closest to the door, because he knew that it would probably piss Dean off if he did decide to join Sam in the bed, and he rolled over onto his left side, so that he had his back to Dean.

"Good boy, Sammy," Dean mumbled, still slurring his words and sounding like he hadn't even noticed that Sam had taken 'his' side of the bed.

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam yelled back at him.

Dean, however, didn't respond. Sam heard him moving around the bedroom, but he stubbornly refused to let himself look over his shoulder to see what Dean was doing, and then Sam heard the sound of the bathroom door closing.

Dean stayed in the bathroom for a little while, and Sam stayed still in the bed, apparently still in shock about Dean's drunken arrival at his motel room door, before Sam heard the bathroom door opening again, followed by footsteps as Dean walked across the room, knocking over a table and a lamp on his way and probably making enough noise to wake up the guests in the room next door, even though Sam was sure that Dean genuinely believed, in his drunken state, that he was tiptoeing across the room.

Just as Sam had suspected, Dean stopped right by the bed, even though Sam definitely wasn't looking over his shoulder at him and he totally hadn't noticed that Dean had changed into Sam's old sweatpants and T-shirt, which he must have grabbed from Sam's bag just before he headed to the bathroom...and they were a little too big for him, which Sam might have found kind of cute if he wasn't still mad at Dean. Then, he felt the mattress dipping a little as Dean climbed into the bed.

Sam reasoned that he was letting Dean do this because his older brother was really tired and really drunk, and it would just be easier and safer to let him stay in his bed where he could keep an eye on him, instead of making half-hearted attempts to haul an uncooperative Dean back to his own motel room.

Next minute, Dean was pressed right up close to him, so that they were laying back-to-chest with Sam as the little spoon, and Dean pulled Sam in a lot closer than he probably ever would when he was sober and he was keeping his guard up and maintaining his manly pride.

He wrapped an arm firmly around Sam's waist, and one of his legs around Sam's. He even nuzzled into the back of Sam's neck, and Sam could practically feel Dean's sighs of contentment against his own skin.

Sam couldn't help letting out a happy sigh in return, and even though he tried for a couple of seconds to keep his distance, he eventually found himself pressing almost unconsciously back into Dean's embrace, seeking more physical contact with his brother, like his body was afraid that it might not get this sense of comfort again for a while and it needed as much as it could get right now just in case.

Dean started running his hand soothingly up and down Sam's torso in return, and he placed a few kisses to Sam's neck.

Sam had a feeling that Dean would be mad about this in the morning, especially when it was obvious how drunk and unguarded he was right now and he was being so blatant in indulging in his dreaded 'touchy-feely crap', which he would be embarrassed about in a few hours, and also because he must have still been mad at Sam, with all of all the insults that Sam had chosen to throw at him throughout the day, meaning that he should have technically stayed far away from Sam's bed, and from Sam.

Yeah, everything would definitely be awkward and uneasy in the morning, but right now, Sam almost couldn't bring himself to care, not when Dean was placing his hand gently but firmly over Sam's heart, and he was mumbling something into the back of Sam's neck…

"You like cuddlin' with your big brother, huh? Does it feel kinda nice?"

Sam instantly felt himself tensing up at Dean's words. He could tell by the mocking tone of voice that Dean was making fun of him, and he could practically feel Dean's laughter up against his neck.

Sam knew that he was blushing bright red the second he realized that Dean must have overheard him talking to the barmaid when they last went out drinking together and Sam told her that he liked it when Dean did this to him, and Dean was apparently remembering that he overheard it, now that he was drunk again.

Dammit, Dean would call him a chick for weeks now, as soon as they officially resolved their argument and started talking to each other again, and he would mock him and try to pretend that Sam was the only one who desperately craved the 'girly' affection.

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam hissed back at him, trying to sound angry instead of mortified.

"S'okay, Sammy," Dean slurred, still sounding like he was about to start laughing any second. "We both know how much of a chick you are…"

"Go to sleep, Dean, or I'm kicking you out!" Sam threatened, definitely feeling more exasperated than embarrassed now.

Thankfully, Dean went quiet, and Sam began to calm down as well, especially when Dean started to nuzzle into his neck again.

The two of them lay there in silence for a couple of minutes, and Sam felt his body relaxing as Dean's touches almost lulled him into sleep.

"Sammy?" Dean eventually muttered, sounding a lot more nervous and vulnerable and uncertain this time.

"Hmm?" Sam asked sleepily as he was pulled out of his light sleep.

"Miss this," he heard Dean whisper.

Sam knew that Dean was still drunk, and that he probably wouldn't have said anything like that when he was sober, but he sounded so sad, and so sincere, and Sam felt his heart break a little.

"Me too," he replied, hoping that Dean understood just how much he meant it, and hoping that Dean remembered his words in the morning.

It was only as Sam agreed with Dean out loud that he fully acknowledged to himself just how much he hated it when he and Dean were fighting, and how much he missed his brother's presence when they put a literal and metaphorical distance between them.

"This time apart sucks," Dean added, and Sam nodded in agreement, almost forgetting what they were fighting about in the first place. He felt Dean's hand move a little, then Dean reached up and held Sam's hand in his, their fingers intertwining.

"We'll work it out, Dean," Sam promised, and he resolved there and then that they were going to talk about things in the morning, that Dean wasn't going to get moody and embarrassed and push him away, and that he was going to apologize, and get an apology out of Dean, and then they were going to act like mature adults and discuss how they were going to treat each other on their next hunt, without Dean talking to Sam as though he were a kid.

As Dean placed both their hands over Sam's heart, and Sam felt his brother's soft snores against his neck, like Dean could finally sleep now that he had established that he and Sam were on the same page, Sam couldn't help adding, "We always work it out, in the end."

He meant it, he really did; he knew deep down that they could deal with a petty argument, that they'd dealt with a lot worse, and Dean's closeness and whispered confession had convinced Sam even more that things would be okay.

Sam started to drift off to sleep as well, feeling a little guilty that even though he'd got mad at Dean earlier for treating him like a kid, he definitely wasn't complaining right now that Dean was babying him, holding him protectively in the dark and keeping a hand firmly over Sam's heart, like Sam was small and vulnerable and he needed reassurance.

He squeezed Dean's hand tight just before he fell asleep, deciding to forget about all of their issues for now and just enjoy their time together.