Only a little over a week since the last update, much better than before AND I had a 15 page research paper to do. I'm thoroughly impressed with myself:) Hope you can see through any and all of my careless mistakes and enjoy the chapter!

LOVE

Dean could only stare at Sam for a long moment, in something of a trance. Those bright, lust-hazed eyes, and spit-glistening lips, thick cock still out in all its glory, draped over his tanned, solid thigh and his white t-shirt sticking to his heaving chest with sweat: he'd put any porn star to shame.

"Be gentle with me." Dean breathed cocking a mocking brow as he let a slow grin blossom across his face and he chuckled at his antics. He was only faintly amused though, falling back on his humor to mask his desperate, needy desire, but trusting that Sam understood it meant more.

All of this did. It meant everything, which was the exact reason for Dean's humor, but they both understood that, and it made it okay.

Sam growled around his own wicked smile and hauled Dean up onto the seat next to him, his mouth attacking in the same second. Sam's hands groped whatever they could reach, alternating between tugging his own pants up and grasping at anything Dean until finally his jeans were secure around his waist and he could leap over to straddle Dean's lap.

"No such luck Dean-y boy." Sam croaked back in his still fucked-out voice as he patted his cheek and laughed softly, descending towards his lips again. The kiss was slower this time despite Sam's teasing words, his tongue lapping gently at the contours of Dean's mouth and tongue and already bruising lips as his thumbs stroked the stubbled jaw under his hands. He sucked in a deep breath, lips flush against Dean's, breathing in his air as his brow knit in an overload of emotions, "Love you. Dean." Sam sighed slowly against the corner of Dean's mouth, turning minutely to plant his against Dean's once again, feeling it almost painful to be apart at that point. How this thing had grown to the highest levels of intensity and commitment so quickly neither boy could fathom, but now that it was there, they never wanted it to stop.

The smacking and panting sounds of their colliding lips mixed with the overall ambiance and thrill of it all being in a drive-in theatre was almost enough to have Sam's cock stirring back to life. But then Dean's hands were all over his body again, bruising finger prints into his hips, thumbing his nipples, groping his chest, his back, his ass, and Sam couldn't suppress a moan before he slipped off the seat. He wouldn't be able to treat his brother if Dean kept any of that up much longer.

Sam raised an eye brow and nibbled on his bottom lip as he undid Dean's button, the soft snapping release like a gun shot in the car. Dean groaned under his breath as the pressure against his cock ebbed away with every tooth of the zipper coming undone; he never took his eyes away from Sam's.

"Love you." Dean returned breathily as his hands ran through Sam's untidy locks: they appeared almost black in the shadows of the car, his face also nearly swallowed in the darkness. Sam's stomach did its familiar flip at the words and he slowly stretched forward, fisting his hands in Dean's jeans, his face illuminated once again by the flashing lights of the screen before disappearing as he fell back and pulled the offending material down to Dean's ankles.

His boxers followed straight after and Sam only spared a few precious milliseconds appreciating the beauty of Dean's bare body before his fist was wrapping around his dick and his mouth was descending. Dean gave a hoarse yelp at the eager ministrations, boeing off the seat and into that heat seconds later. Sam's lips slipped farther down Dean's shaft, his hand creating the desired friction for anything he couldn't take in and Dean writhed and grunted under him, urging him on faster, harder, deeper. More.

"Yeah, fuck Sam. God." Dean half whispered half moaned as his hands knotted in Sam's hair, adding to its already tousled look. Sam hummed low in his throat hearing Dean's praising words and Dean immediately slapped a hand down against the leather seat, his head snapped toward his chest as he grit his teeth against the utmost perfect of vibrations. Sam did it again, seeing Dean's reaction and smirked around the heavy dick in his mouth as Dean thrashed against the sensation, head falling back this time as he cried out long and loud, continuing to encourage Sam with mumbled nonsense whispers.

Sam's free hand moved from where it had been resting against Dean's chest down to his belly button, circling the sensitive dip before moving around the inside of his thigh to his balls, sucking hard as he rolled the sensitive sack in his nimble fingers.

"Mm," Dean grunted through clenched teeth and flared nostrils, arching into Sam again as his brother started massaging. Sam's teeth ever so gently glided along the sensitive skin of Dean's shaft, relishing in the answering moan and pulling farther back to keep only the head in his mouth. His tongue circled the ridge of the head, sending sparks shooting up Dean's spine as he arched up again, hands gripping onto the leather for dear fucking life.

Sam's slick muscle worked along the slit after a moment, coaxing out more dribbles of pre-come, sucking roughly before suddenly relaxing and descending once more, letting his tongue pulse along the underside of Dean's cock. He memorized every ridge and line of the heavy weight in his mouth as he kept pushing forward, tongue working mercilessly as he swallowed a few times, getting his gag reflex to relax. Finally he felt the tip nudge the back of his throat.

Dean yelled out for a short second, loud and low echoing though the car, eyes shooting wide before clamping shut as his breath stuttered out of him in a jarring shudder. He was almost stunned to feel how deep his brother had let him in but then he was so mixed up and dazed in the bliss pulsing through him he couldn't quite understand anything besides how fucking incredible this feeling was. He was sure there was nothing better.

Sam swallowed again, all the muscles in his mouth working at once to squeeze Dean in and try to pull him farther but holy fuck that was too much.

"Shit…I'm fuckin' there Sammy." Dean cautioned loosening his fists in Sam's hair before white-knuckling the seat behind him, exactly the way Sam had done minutes before, finding he needed to keep hold of something if he was going to make it through this with his sanity, but not wanting to hold Sam in place in case he wanted to back off.

"Ah, fuck…" Dean breathed as Sam took him as far down as he could one last time, hollowed out his cheeks and let Dean come inside him with a croaky shout. One that sounded vaguely like a prolonged version of his name. Sam had never heard anything so perfect.

He swallowed everything Dean offered before gently backing off, blowing on the softened, still wet member before him, loving the moan and gentle twitch he received in response. His hands rubbed at Dean's thighs, tenderly relaxing the shot muscles as he fell back on his heels and rested against the dash, catching his breath and watching Dean do the same. Both of his arms were limp at his sides, his eyes closed, lips parted and chest working double time to gather enough oxygen to keep him conscious. Or knock him out. Sam couldn't quite tell yet, all he knew was Dean was the picture of peace and perfection, and he was on cloud nine knowing he had brought him there.

"Sammy." Dean said on one of his recovering sighs as he cracked his eye open and lifted a hand to try and grab Sam's shoulder. Sam got the message and gave Dean a small smirk as he lifted himself back onto the seat and buttoned up his jeans, watching Dean slowly come back to himself and take advantage of the new leg room to pull his own pants up. He winced slightly as the material rubbed against his overstimulated prick but soon relaxed into the seat with a contented sigh, his hand slapping Sam's knee.

"That was the best fuckin' blow ever." Dean said matter-of-factly as his eyes distanced toward the dash, remembering back through the past few minutes. "And that's really saying something." Sam chuckled at his brother's typical romantic display of affection and gratitude and patted him back.

"You weren't half bad yourself." Sam replied mocking Dean's obvious surprise as he scooted down in his seat, getting himself comfortable. "Sorry we missed most of Porky's." Sam offered unapologetically, his chest gently bobbing with quiet laughter.

"Worth it." Dean responded just above a whisper, smirking contentedly.

"Definitely." Sam agreed just as softly. They settled in together to watch the rest of the mostly forgotten movie, this time though with Dean's arm draped over his brother's shoulders, Sam's head resting back against his bicep and his hand curled around Dean's thigh. Together. How it should've been.

Soon the movie was over and they were headed back to Bobby's, Sam already having fallen asleep against Dean's shoulder and Dean ready to pass out at the wheel himself. Neither boy had been getting full nights of sleep with Sam's constant nausea, so their beds were beckoning more and more insistently with ever passing second. Sam's head lolled against Dean's shoulder as they curved along the road and turned off onto their street, the soft tickling of Sam's hair on his neck spreading a soft warmth throughout Dean's belly. Happiness, he thought.

It was unusual feeling, one that that made his bones itch, urging him to do something dangerous, something to give him that familiar adrenaline rush, but one that made his heart slow to settle in and hold on for as long as it could.

He sighed deeply as they slowed down over Bobby's dirt driveway, a small, sleepy smile pulling on his lips as he unconsciously reminisced over the night he felt was the closest to normal he'd ever get, surprised to find it had been entirely bearable. Even fun. Okay, the most fun he'd had in years. Even the sex excluded.

Dean tenderly roused Sam with a few whispered words, slurred in his own exhaustion after parking the impala for the night and tucking the keys away. He helped Sam out, who, for all intents and purposes, was still asleep on Dean's shoulder, and pulled one of his arms over his neck as they made their way inside.

As they weaved their way around the junk cars littering Bobby's lawn, Sam cracked opened his eyes and whispered a few questioning words into Dean's neck, "We home?"

Dean really couldn't deny, the question wasn't exactly one to fumble with. It didn't have much weight or meaning behind it, hell Sam was half asleep when he asked it anyway, but for a reason unbeknownst to him, the question struck him with a wave of emotion he could not justify nor understand. And he did fumble with it, the words rattling in his head for a long while before he could answer. Because they sounded so surreal reaching his. Home.

He took a deep breath, glancing around the star-scattered sky and the gravely dirt crunching under his shoes and the old run down house he'd seen and visited countless times before, and figured there was really only one way to answer that question.

"'Course Sammy. Where else would we be?" He asked, feeding off the strange giddiness speeding up his heart and broadening his smile, "We're home."

Sam looked up lazily to his brother with a matching grin before straightening up and blinking his eyes clear, "Thank god." Sam groaned before falling to Dean's shoulder again.

Dean laughed exhaling slowly as they stepped inside, "Almost there man, just a couple more minutes and you can pass out, but Ima be pissed if you make me carry your ass." He joked, laughing as Sam stumbled on the ratty carpet of the library as they passed through, not at all convinced Sam was even awake enough to listen anymore.

"Well It's about time." The familiar gruff voice sounded from behind him, startling Dean to a standstill. The abrupt stop and loud grumble behind them had Sam standing up on his own, jerking himself from exhaustion and moving fractionally away from Dean.

"Bobby," Dean sighed in marginal relief, shaking out the irrational fear before he turned around, dropping his supporting arm from Sam's waist. Suddenly, facing the seasoned hunter's observant eyes, he was tense and on alert, feeling scrutinized under his gaze - as though one glance at the two of them would spill the entire night's events to the old family friend.

Things were awkwardly silent and unbearably tense for what each boy counted as exactly five seconds before Bobby dropped his inquisitive stare and spoke, "You boys were out late."

Sam froze, suddenly wondering if they were about to get their asses beat for not telling him where they were headed or when they'd be back before they'd left. The thought had totally slipped his mind. "How was the movie?" Bobby asked a beat later, not noticing the unease coloring the youngest Winchester's face as he did.

It took Sam a moment before he realized the question could quell his fears and eventually, once it registered enough to, let out a heavy sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Dude, relax, I told him this afternoon we might be goin' to the drive-in." Dean chuckled nudging Sam in the ribs, trying to hide his own tension; Bobby seemed to notice Sam's nerves then and clapped him on the shoulder laughing, "You're okay kid." he reassured as Sam let out a shaky laugh and nodded.

"You boys look dead on your feet." Bobby pointed out just as Sam was about to stutter over an apology, "Why don't you go on up and you can tell me about the movie tomorrow." His lined face pulled up into an uncharacteristically warm grin as he gave Dean a pat on the shoulder and nodded, heading off to bed himself.

Both boys blew out a long sigh simultaneously as they watched their oldest friend disappear into his room down the hall. Neither spoke until they were in the safety of their own room with the door locked behind them.

-"That was weird."

-"Did that feel off to you?"

Sam and Dean started at the same time, talking over each other as they pondered the exchange with matching expressions of curious unease. They both gave a strained chuckle and rubbed the back of their necks distractedly, not noticing the way they still mirrored the other's actions, "I felt like he knew." Dean muttered quietly a moment later, "I mean, I know he didn't, doesn't, whatever, but just…coming back from tonight…and running straight into him, it felt weird."

"I know what you mean." Sam agreed plopping down onto his back, bouncing on the mattress of his bed, "It felt like he'd be able see it on me, like he could just look at us and know what happened." Sam whispered, quieting his voice to match the darkness of the room as he stared up at the ceiling.

"But he can't." Dean whispered back a minute later, "And he doesn't know. So we should stop worrying about it and get some sleep. You were about to pass out like two seconds ago." He reminded.

Sam sighed, "Yeah alright." He consented softly, unbuttoning his jeans and lifting his hips off the bed to tug them down and kick them off. Dean did the same as he lay back on his bed and pulled his shirt off, yanking back the covers to slip underneath, shuddering against the cool air of the room. Everything was silent for about two minutes, minus the soft breathing of the tired boys, before Sam stirred gently under his sheets, huffing as he moved around.

Dean sighed, stomach twirling in anxiety, "I didn't like coming home to Bobby tonight." Dean admitted almost inaudibly, knowing his brother was still wide awake in the bed over, "It felt like it almost tainted tonight. Which was perfect." He admitted even quieter as he let out a slow, silent exhale, "It felt like I should've been…guilty about what we did, looking at him, talking to him right after… I don't know, I didn't like it." He finished, half hoping he hadn't opened his mouth and wondering where the urge to speak his thoughts had come from in the first place.

He held his breath waiting for Sam to say something, "Does…" Sam started shakily, blowing his breath out as Dean tentatively did the same, not wanting to miss anything Sam was about to say, "Does that mean…you want to stop?" Sam finally asked, the undercurrents of fear all too clear in his voice.

"What?" Dean asked whipping his head toward Sam, almost appalled at the idea, "No Sammy. That's not what I was saying…" Dean said propping himself up on his elbow to get a better view of his brother in the dim light of the stars peeking in through the crack of their curtains, "Unless that's what you want." He said timidly, trying to harden his voice but hoping to hell it wasn't true.

"Dean no, it just sounded like maybe…with us living here for now that it was…too weird to be doing this with Bobby around. I don't know. But I don't want to stop, not for anything. Its about the only thing that makes me happy now. The only time I'm not completely freaked out or worried or stressed. The only time I feel…safe." He confessed, hoping his sappy, albeit true, speech wasn't turning Dean away from the conversation.

"Me too." Dean agreed, dashing away all of Sam's fears with his whispered concurrence, "So obviously, we're not telling him." He continued a few silent moments later, "Even if it does make things a little weird, right? Cause I mean, this is our business to deal with anyway, it's not like we're hurting him by keeping it quiet." Dean reasoned, "And if we tell him, everything would go to shit, and we both agreed we need this, so…I think its best if we just, keep doing what we've been doing, right?" He asked again, feeling very unsure of himself, unsettled by the whole situation. There was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that kept tugging at him, kept telling him they were fooling themselves if they thought this would work…

"Yeah." Sam consented half-heartedly, it wasn't hard for Dean to tell he didn't like the idea of skirting around or hiding this either - like they were ashamed of what they were doing when neither was, not in the slightest. They weren't causing anyone harm by being there for one another; if society had a problem with the ways they needed each other then they could fuck off, it was pretty simple to them. But that attitude didn't coincide with this decision at all, hiding with their tails between their legs? Even if telling Bobby put a lot on the line, they could still feel it in their very core, hiding this for any reason was wrong.

But then what other choice did they have? They couldn't jeopardize their home and relationship with Bobby, or their help from Meyer, just to make themselves feel better by telling the truth. They had priorities after all, and the fragile lives Sam still carried came first, as they always would.

"G'night Dean." Sam mumbled around his pillow, ready to sleep away the rest of the uneasy end to their night as he forcefully relaxed into the mattress with a soft sigh. He heard rustling in the other bed over, but didn't open his eyes to see what Dean was doing until their were quiet footsteps on the hardwood floor.

Dean's silhouette was approaching him, bending over his bend and then tilting Sam's chin up and away from the pillow to press a chaste kiss to his lips. A rush of exhilaration radiated through him, as it always did, and he pushed forward gently, not jeopardizing the innocence of the kiss, but deepening the touch, conveying all the things he couldn't say otherwise.

"Night Sammy." Dean returned after pulling himself an inch away from his lips and brushing his nose against Sam's. He straightened up and watched his brother smile, sated and sleepy, once again relaxing into the bed and settling for the night. Dean was more than glad the night's perfection hadn't been entirely compromised as he once again sunk into his bed, this time able to truly unwind and quickly fall into a desperately needed sleep.

The next morning, Sam woke up far too early for anyone's liking really. He bolted upright from bed and landed in front of the toilet in almost the same second as he returned last night's dinner to the porcelain god before him. He coughed harshly until his stomach seized and propelled his bunched body forward to push up whatever it could, working Sam's still tired body into complete exhaustion. His throat burned with the wretched upheaval and his stomach twisted and gurgled unpleasantly afterward; Sam only had a few moments to wonder if he was done before a hand landed at the back of this neck and he heard the tap turn on in the bathroom.

"It's okay Sammy. Hang in there," Dean chanted, his words slightly slurred with lingering sleep as he simultaneously rubbed Sam's back and filled a glass of water, waiting for his brother to finish.

Sam flushed, deciding he was finished, and sat back, hating the putrid left over smell of vomit thick in the bathroom confines, making his stomach flip again. He pushed the remaining nausea away, choosing not to breath through his nose as he accepted the water and rinsed his mouth out, spitting it back into the sink.

"Thanks Dean." Sam mumbled, too tired to go through the whole process of properly brushing his teeth, so Dean simply nodded and followed Sam back out to bed.

Except Sam crawled in Dean's bed, looking up at his brother through drooping eyes to silently ask for his permission to stay, and snuggled into the covers a minute later when Dean slid in next to him. He'd think of something to explain away the position later if Bobby or Meyer happened to walk in, but right now Dean could only focus on the heat of the body next to him, pulsing off in waves, beckoning him closer. The knowledge that Sam needed him right now, it was enough to forgo logical reason.

"You didn't have to get up Dean." Sam whispered lazily into Dean's shoulder, his lips moving against the warm skin as his hands tugged the covers tighter to his chest, "That's gonna keep happening for a while, I know I might wake you up…can't help it…but you don't have to suffer with me. Not every time." Sam offered sleepily, the hint of a smile brushing along Dean's skin as his eyes closed.

"I'll be there with you," Dean ensured making it clear his words was an irreversible promise, "For every part of this Sammy." He said, ignoring the light tone of Sam's voice and letting every ounce of that truth emanate in his words, "Sufferin' or not." His voice was still rough with sleep and rumbled quietly in the darkness of the room.

Sam wouldn't admit it, if only for his brother's sake, but he hung on every word - stored them away in that secret file of Dean in his head. The one that held every moment his brother ever truly opened up to him or let his guard down or made a promise like that, and let his emotions come through to the surface, showing his inner vulnerability. It always meant more to Sam than he could ever truly say.

So Sam didn't say anything, just pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the jut of Dean's shoulder bone and wrapped a loose fist around his bicep under the covers, relishing the grounding contact as they slowly drifted back to sleep.

At a more appropriate time of morning, Dean arose to the smell of perfection wafting up from the kitchen. Surprised it made it to his nose through the arm pit almost encasing his face, Dean chuckled and gently pushed Sam and his strange position off of him, making sure he didn't wake him before slipping out of the room and down the stairs.

"Smells awesome in here." Dean announced, rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand as he surveyed the kitchen. Bobby was shuffling eggs out of a skillet and onto a plate, and Meyer was rolling sausages in a frying pan over the stove. They looked like a married couple, working as a team to get the day started with a healthy breakfast for the kids, Dean laughed lightly and stepped further into the room, opening the fridge for some juice.

"Mornin' Dean." Bobby greeted over the sound of sizzling in Meyer's pan, "How's your brother?"

"Morning, uh he's fine. Still sleeping." Dean answered casually, "He was sick again this morning, probably around four or five, so he's still pretty wiped."

Meyer and Bobby both nodded somberly, used to the news by now but not at all alright with hearing it.

"You should bring him up some saltine crackers before he wakes up," Meyer said, "I just picked up some more, I saw we were out."

Meyer had explained to the boys when the morning sickness had started that waking up on an empty stomach was where the nausea usually came from, how 'morning sickness' got its name in the first place, so eating a little before getting up could help keep it under control.

"Yeah? Thanks Meyer, I was gonna do it today, but…I guess now I don't have to." Dean shrugged as he poured himself a glass of orange juice, Meyer just smiled to him over his shoulder before shutting off the flame on the stove.

"Done!" He announced brightly with a million-watt smile, pushing the links onto a plate and taking it to the table where the eggs and toast where waiting. Bobby laughed at his friend's animation, bumping him with his shoulder as he finished with the coffee and brought the pot over as well. Dean's mouth watered looking at the sight and he snatched the crackers quickly out of the cabinet, unable to keep the contagious happiness from the mood of the morning and the smell of the food from lighting up his face as he dashed upstairs to Sam. Dean tip toed once he was on their level, hoping he could sneak the crackers onto the nightstand and make it back down without disturbing his brother. He slowly pushed open the cracked door to their room, managing to stay silent as he padded across the room and set down the box of crackers.

He smiled softly spying over the sleeping form of his brother, taking in the odd angles at which his arms framed his head, the one leg that hung out of the covers and off the bed, the other that was on the complete opposite side of the queen size mattress: he was completely spread eagle taking up the whole bed. He huffed an endearing laugh and moved to take a step away just as his stomach let out a low, long and loud gurgle of hunger.

Shit.

He cringed dramatically and watched as Sam rolled flipping one leg over himself, nearly falling off the bed. His grimace turned to a wide-eyed stare as Dean rushed down to Sam's side and steadied him with a quiet puff of laughter, "Easy Sammy," He coaxed as his brother jumped awake, startled by the commotion and the close fall as he moved back onto the bed and tried to calm his racing heart.

"Wha's goin' on?" Sam asked as urgently as he could manage as he was still half-asleep. It was kind of an adorable sight, his hair jumping out every which way, his knuckle pressed to the corner of his eye, sheets all tangled up around his legs. Dean heart did a little flip flop of as much guilt as love, feeling horrible for startling him awake the way he did.

"Nothin' Sammy, it's okay. Sorry I woke you, I'm hungry." He explained quietly, as if that would make any sense to Sam, "You can go back to sleep if you're still tired."

Sam stared at Dean, wide eyed and unmoving for what seemed like a really long time, just trying to get his brain to switch from emergency flight mode, to relaxed morning mode, and process whatever Dean was talking about at the same time. He saw his brother looking at him expectantly and realized he was waiting for an answer.

"'M up." Sam said with whatever conviction he could muster, trying to swing his legs out of bed.

"Whoa whoa, hang on." Dean quelled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, "How's your stomach doin'? Meyer bought some more crackers last night. You should have a few 'for you get up." He advised, but Sam had already spotted the box and was nibbling on a few by the time he finished speaking.

"Good idea," Sam muttered around a mouthful of crumbs, Dean smiling down at him fondly, finding the picture incredibly endearing again. Wow, he was turning into the girl.

"So, we need to relax for a bit and let it settle? Or you good to get up? Hungry for some real breakfast?" Dean asked rubbing the backs of his fingers up and down Sam's arm before brushing over his chin playfully, waiting for a decision. Sam laughed quietly and pushed at Dean's hand before sitting up the rest of the way and shaking his head in an attempt to see more clearly.

"I'm hungry." Sam decided, a little surprised and hesitant at the idea of wanting to eat first thing in the morning, it hadn't happened in a while, but Dean's answering smile was enough to have Sam itching to get out of bed and downstairs, anything to make him stay happy like that. It was beautiful.

They both traipsed into the kitchen seconds later, Sam's mouth actually watering from the smells, his stomach rumbling pleasantly.

"Sam." Bobby greeted surprised, "Didn't think we'd be seein' you for another few hours." He said shooting Dean an accusatory 'what'd-you-do' look before smiling back at Sam.

"Yeah, my bad." Dean offered and sat down at the table in front of an empty plate, more than ready to dish up. This was by far one of the best mornings he could remember in a long while. Sam, Bobby, and Meyer all joined him laughing and saying something about Dean never letting Sam sleep before digging in enthusiastically.

"You're not hankering for some chocolate on those eggs or pickle toppings for you're toast Sam?" Bobby teased lightheartedly as he watched the boy dish up an entirely normal meal with the rest of them.

"Ha, ha." Sam mocked intelligibly, "Keep at it old man, you'll get what's coming." He threatened in good nature with a small smile tugging on his lips. Dean bumped Sam's shoulder with his, impressed at his brother's ability to go along with the playful teasing, especially about his cravings. Dean couldn't help but notice how far they'd really come from those first few weeks, all of them, but mostly Sam. He'd never been more proud.

Dean's own enthused grin shone brightly on his features as Sam chuckled and shook his head, nudging Dean back. They were both a little high on the mood of the sunny morning, the sound of clanking sliver ware and plates, the light conversation and effortless laughter; he could tell right away it was going to be a great day. One he'd remember.

Because they felt like a family, and he couldn't really ask for more than that.

Tell meh what ya thought!

Xx