Supernatural has seriously ruined my life. I can't do anything unless it has something to do with Supernatural at the moment. Right now it's just watching SPN, reading SPN novels, reading SPN fanfics, writing SPN fanfics, checking out SPN pictures on Tumblr, watching SPN crackvideos and crying over how perfect all of these gorgeous men are.
Still love this series to death, of course. Anywayyy, here's chapter 2! Enjoy reading!

Lots of love, Tearsbehindthemask

"Bye, babe. I had a great night."
"Yeah, me too…"
Candy fidgeted with her hair and added: "Call me?"
"Sure thing."
Dean happily answered Candy's fierce kiss, caressing her beautiful, brown hair one last time, so that he'd remember those curls. He was never going to call her.

Dean watched Candy walk away and smirked as his eyes lingered at her amazing buttocks; he could still recall the feeling of his hands touching that and…
"I assume you two had a good night?"
Dean reached for his gun as he turned around but relaxed as soon as he saw his little brother sitting under their motel room window.
"Sammy? What are you doing here?"
Dean hid his gun under his jacket again as Sam got up and stretched his absurdly long limbs.
"I was waiting until you finally got out of bed."
Dean gave Sam a questioning look and didn't seem to understand why Sam would do something like that. Sam sighed and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to get rid of the tension that had built up there, due to sitting in an uncomfortable position in the cold all night.
"Well, after you kicked me out and I forgot to take the car keys, I didn't exactly have a choice."
"I… eh…"
Dean awkwardly scratched his head as he remembered how he had sent Sam away when he got back to the motel with Candy.
"I'm sorry, Sammy. I wasn't thinking…" Dean stopped talking mid-sentence and rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Hold on a minute, why didn't you just get yourself another motel room?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "I'd have had to use one of my own credit cards. They'd figure out that I'd been using a false name and that might've raised some suspicion…"
"Damn… I'm really sorry, Sam…"
Sam shrugged and muttered something unintelligible. It would be useless to argue about this with his brother anyway. Not to mention that it was difficult just looking at his brother without turning into a tomato, remembering everything he'd seen that night. And damn, had he seen things.
"Let me make it up to you." Dean said, clapping his big, little brother on the shoulder, "You go in and take a nap, I'll get us some breakfast and coffee. Hell, I'll even order a chick-coffee with whipped cream and vanilla for you, just as you like it."
Sam chuckled and smiled at his brother. "That sounds great."
"Well then, Sleeping Beauty," Dean said, reaching out to his brother and tucking a lock of his longish, smooth hair behind his ear, "Sleep tight, and I'll see you in a bit."
Sam could only nod, his breath caught in his throat, as Dean smiled his mischievous smile and walked over to the Impala. Sam made a dash for the motel room and closed the door behind him. His fingers played with the lock of hair that Dean had touched, fragments of Dean's night with Candy going through his mind.
The same fingers that had so gently pushed his own hair away, grabbing a fistful of curls and pulling the girl's head back. Those fingers trailing the shape of the girl's body. Those hands, forceful but passionate, controlling their movements. The muscles in Dean's arms and the rest of his body tense and beautiful…
Sam took a deep breath and realised that it'd be better to take a shower before he'd lay down. Why couldn't he just stop thinking about what he had seen that night?

Sam turned on the shower and shivered as the cold water soaked his hair and ran down his body.
He needed the cold; he needed the water to cleanse him. The webs in his brain needed to be flushed out. Why would he get excited just thinking about his brother? Sam was trying to convince himself that it was the sex that had excited him, blaming it on the fact that he hadn't gotten any for months.
Yeah, right. Fooling himself had never been that easy.
Sam had to admit that he'd developed feelings for his brother. New and frightening feelings that were just plain wrong. You did not feel sexual attraction when you were thinking about your naked brother. Hell, you didn't even think about your naked brother! It was sickening.

Sam's eyes shot open as Dean opened the front door and came in with two paper bags and a tray with two cups of coffee.
"Wakey, wakey, Sammy. Coffee time!"
Sam rubbed his eyes and took one of the bags that Dean was dangling in front of his face.
"Thanks…"
"Yeah, sure. Oh, your coffee didn't work out, by the way."
Sam raised his eyebrow and took a sandwich from the paper bag, wondering what kind of excuse Dean had come up with this time.
"I, eh… Yeah. It was just too embarrassing to order that stuff that you call coffee. I just got you a regular cup of coffee and poured a truckload of milk in it."
"Uhm… thanks. I guess."
Sam took the coffee and Dean made himself comfortable on the other bed; he turned on the radio and searched for music that agreed with his specific taste. When Sam heard a few notes from an ACDC song, he knew that Dean had found his new favourite radio station for the week.
"Sweet." Dean mumbled, taking a swig of coffee.
Neither of them said anything as they ate their breakfast and drank their coffee. Dean would occasionally hum along to a guitar solo and Sam would smile to himself, only now noticing how endearing it was.
Most of the time, Dean was a well-trained soldier, tough and serious; humming along with his favourite songs, Dean was like a happy kid again, a sight that Sam didn't get to see that often anymore. At times, Sam missed the old, less serious Dean. He didn't love him less for the person he was now, though.
"So, did you find out anything new about the haunting, yesterday?"
Sam swallowed the last bite of his breakfast and shrugged.
"Seems like we're dealing with a traditional haunting here. Salting and burning the bones should do the trick."
Dean rubbed the stubble on his chin again and found it too rough for his liking.
"Okay, then. I'll go take a shower and shave, and we'll drop by the cemetery tonight to burn the bitch and finish this job."
Sam nodded, knowing that digging up a grave wasn't an option at broad daylight.
"Yeah, sure. We'll go… find something else to do this afternoon then."
"We could just take a break today, Sammy. You know, do some sightseeing, have a few beers, that kind of thing."
"…Yeah, sure."
Dean flashed Sam a gorgeous smile before disappearing in the bathroom, leaving the door ajar to let some air in.

He shouldn't watch.
Sam swallowed hard and tried to get a better view of the bathroom without making too much noise or looking suspicious; it proved to be quite difficult, but Sam finally found a good position on the bed, turning on the television and pretending to be watching the news. And what news it was.
Sam could see Dean in the shower, foam in his hair and his back to him. Obviously, it wasn't his back that Sam was looking at.
"Why the hell am I doing this?" Sam breathed, unable to look away from his brother as he turned around and started washing the foam out of his hair.
Dear God.
Even though Sam and Dean had been sleeping in the same motel rooms most of their lives, Sam hadn't seen his brother full frontal in a long time. He thought he kind of understood why Candy had been making the noises she had last night now.
When Dean stepped out of the shower, Sam directed his gaze at the television.
"You watching cooking shows again?" Dean called from the bathroom.
Sam chuckled as he secretly watched Dean wrap a towel around his waist.
"Not today, Dean. I gave up the idea of cooking healthy food after you walked in last night."
"Ah, thank God." Dean laughed, "Just so you'll know, I'll never give up my burgers."
"I know, Dean." Sam sighed, smiling to himself.

After Dean got dressed, they decided to leave the Impala in the parking lot and walk to the bar that was closest to their motel; it was a ten-minute walk, and Sam wondered how drunk-Dean and drunk-Candy had made their way back to the motel room last night from wherever they had been drinking and how long it had taken them.