Dean wakes up on August 1st to AC/DC blaring from the nightstand. He reaches blindly and grabs his phone, putting it to his ear. Hells Bells nearly shatters his eardrum and he holds the phone away from his face, squinting and poking at the screen until it picks up the call.
"Mm-yeah?" he grumbles, shutting his eyes once more. Sam rolls over and wraps one massive arm around Dean's stomach.
"Dean, wake up, dude. Problems," Cas replies from the other end. Dean rubs the sleep from his eye with one hand, sitting up in bed. Sam huffs, turning away from Dean and rubbing his face into his pillow.
"Alright, I'm up, what's wrong?"
"Something's broken on the fucking plane, and our flight is being transferred. So we're not flying out of here for another two hours." Dean can hear the frustration in his voice. "Which means," Cas continues, "we're going to be scrambling to make our flight to Vegas. Can you guys meet us at the airport and pick up Nathaniel?"
"Yeah of course Cas. What time are you landing?" Dean rubbed a hand down his face. "Right. We'll be there. Don't worry. Okay, safe flight. Bye."
Dean drops the phone back on the nightstand and looks over at Sam. The sheets had ridden down through the night, and lay across the top of Sam's ass.
"Are you coherent?" he asks, getting no response. Dean sighs, eyes wandering from the curls of brown hair at the nape of Sam's neck, to the dip between his shoulder blades, to the dimples on Sam's lower back.
The stark white of the sheet emphasizes the deep tan of Sam's skin. Rolling onto his side, Dean props himself up on his elbow and traces his fingertips over the moles on Sam's back. Sam doesn't stir as Dean's fingers dance across his skin, criss-crossing lower and lower. Dean wonders if he imagined the hitch in Sam's breathing as his lips follow, kissing his way across Sam's shoulder blades.
Dean kisses and licks his way down Sam's spine, lifting himself up and gently settling over Sam's legs, knees on either side of Sam's hips. Slowly, he presses soft kisses along Sam's sides, nuzzling against Sam with the tip of his nose, scooting backwards on his hands and knees. Dean definitely hears the moan that escapes Sam's lips on an exhale as he presses a kiss into each dimple on Sam's lower back, chin brushing against the waistband of Sam's boxer briefs.
Working his way back up Sam's back, Dean nibbles lightly along Sam's sides before pressing a kiss to the back of Sam's neck. He inhales the scent of Sam's hair, his favorite smell in the world. Sam's eyes open slowly as Dean nuzzles his neck, the scruff on his face prickling Sam's skin. He moans his appreciation as he rolls over underneath Dean, squinting up sleepily.
"Good morning, Sunshine Eyes," Dean whispers, and Sam smiles like the sun bursting over the morning horizon.
Dean kisses each dimple, whispering "adorable" against Sam's lips.
"I am not adorable. I'm…. manly. Rugged. Rough," he tells Dean, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring up at him, trying hard to keep the smile from his lips. Dean laughs out loud before he dips his head again to kiss the tip of Sam's pointed nose.
"Yes, you are, and it's adorable, Sammy," Dean replies with a wink. The mood changes from playful to something much more fun as Sam bucks his hips, effectively rubbing his cock against Dean's, two thin layers of cotton between their morning wood. Dean growls playfully, grabbing at Sam's wrists and pinning them to the pillow on either side of his head.
"You taste delicious in the morning," Dean whispers in Sam's ear before licking a wide stripe from Sam's collarbone to earlobe. Sam laughs and bucks underneath him. When Sam stretches his neck out, trying to catch Dean's lips with his own, Dean pulls back with a sly smile before kissing his way to Sam's erection. He glances up at Sam and winks.
"Mmm, breakfast in bed."
"Terminal B, right?" Sam asks, hunching over the steering wheel slightly to see the signage at San Jose International. Dean nods, punching at the keys of his cell phone, typing out a message to Cas to let him know they were pulling in. Sam maneuvers his pickup into a parallel spot in front of Terminal B. Cas and Meg come out the sliding doors, Meg carrying Nathaniel in her arms, and Cas pulling a rolling suitcase, a diaper bag over one shoulder, a pack-and-play over the other, and Nathaniel's car seat in the other hand.
"Nate! How are ya, buddy?" Dean says, reaching his hands out for Nathaniel as the child reaches for him. Dean takes the squealing boy into his arms and squeezes a laugh out of him. Sam pulls Meg in for a hug before taking the diaper bag and car seat from Cas. Together, Cas and Sam put Nathaniel's things in the back of the truck, and buckle the car seat into the back seat as Dean and Meg chat about the coming vacation and Nate's schedule.
"Babe, we've got twenty minutes to make our next flight," Meg reminds Cas as his conversation with Sam turns to sports.
"Okay, we'll see you in four days!" Meg says to Nate, pushing up on her toes to give him yet another kiss, then gives Dean a kiss on the cheek. "You take good care of my boy."
"Of course, we will. Don't worry. Give us a call when you land, we'll have Nate settled in by then," Sam assures her, pulling her in for a hug, then giving Cas a slap on the back. "Enjoy your vacation!"
Sam watches as Dean sits in the sandbox, Nate between his thighs, laughing as the toddler dumps handfuls of sand on his jeans. Sam cracks another ball for Sarge to chase, then turns back to watch as Nate stands, depositing a handful of sand in Dean's shirt pocket. Dean just laughs, tossing his head back, the evening sun giving his skin a golden glow.
Nate huffs as he scrambles out of the sandbox, making a beeline out into the field to chase after Sarge. Dean stands and brushes the sand from his jeans, leaning over to dump the sand out of his pocket. He then drifts over to Sam and slings an arm around his shoulder.
"He's cute, but man, he's got a ton of energy. I'm beat." Without further ado, Dean flops to the ground, landing on his back, spread-eagle. Sam rolls his eyes theatrically and leans over Dean's head.
"Well, that was dramatic." Dean just grins up at him before patting the ground at his side. Sam sits next to Dean, facing out towards the field, his left hip brushing Dean's. Reaching out,he runs his palm down Dean's thigh. Dean hums in appreciation, crossing his hands behind his head. Sam watches as Nathaniel leads Sarge around the field by his collar. The dog dutifully follows the toddler, tail wagging happily through the air.
"It's nice, having Nate around. We should watch him more often," Sam says absentmindedly. His fingers pause against Dean's hip, and Sam glances down to catch Dean's reaction.
Dean quirks his eyebrow, not bothering to open his eyes, then shrugs one shoulder.
"Or we could get one of our own."
"Oh really?" Sam asks, forcing his fingers to return to their lazy figure eights across Dean's stomach.
"Yeah, we'll just go to Babies-R-Us and pick one up." Sam snorts at that, and Dean chuckles before continuing, "I mean it though, I'd like to have a kid or two running around the house someday."
"I'd like that too, Dean."
A peal of laughter draws Sam's attention back to Nathaniel and Sarge. The toddler is laying in the grass, and Sarge is standing over him, licking the toddler from head to toe.
"Come on, let's get Nate home, it's almost bedtime."
Sam wanders down the hallway, toothbrush dangling between his teeth, to the sound of Dean singing quietly from the guestroom. Peeking around the corner, he watches as Dean bounces lightly, Nathaniel's head resting on his shoulder, fast asleep. Sarge is also asleep on the floor next to Nate's Pack-n-Play. Sam leans against the doorjam.
"Enter Sandman?" he asks, "isn't that a little on the nose? Also, that's a creepy song." Dean turns, sticking his tongue out between verse and chorus. At the end of the song he turns to Sam, giving a small shrug with his free shoulder.
"Metallica calms me down, figured it would work on him."
"Babe, he's out. Sarge is out. I'm out. Let's go to bed."
Dean nods, bending at the waist to lay Nate down and covering him with his blanket. "Goodnight, little man. I guess Sarge is sleeping in here," Dean adds with a quiet laugh, turning to Sam. He groans at the sight of Sam, his tan skin nearly glowing in the dim light, the already deep crevice between his abs sinking deeper in shadow. Sam chuckles and turns to leave, earning another groan from Dean; Sam's sweats are slung low on his hips, showing off the rise his perfect ass. Dean takes two quick steps, catching up to Sam in the hallway. He wraps both arms around Sam's waist, pressing his chest against Sam's bare back, and offers some kisses on his shoulders. Sam turns, plants a kiss on Dean's lips, and pulls Dean by the hand toward the bedroom.
"Mmm, bed. Count me in."