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They still ask for two doubles at each motel, sill keep their separate rooms back at the bunker, but every night they end up sleeping in the same bed. Oh, they fight it in the beginning, it eases the transition from brothers to more than brothers to keep it physical. Sex is one thing, but sleeping is another, and a whole lot more. Eventually, though, the older they get, as they lose and come back to each other far too many times, there’s a natural progression. The first night is entirely unintended, Dean, just far too tired to budge after some rather vigorous sex, falls asleep on Sam’s arm within thirty seconds of lying back down. Sam, too lazy to budge Dean over or move himself, drops off not long after. They wake later a bit entwined, both feeling too warm and awkward but also incredibly and surprisingly at peace, so they kick off the cover a bit and silently agree on new sleeping arrangements.
Sometimes it’s simple. The spoon. Dean’s usually the little spoon, but Sam would never dare to make the observation out loud. It just makes more sense, logistically, with Sam’s superior size and orangutan arms. They switch it up occasionally, though, Dean scoots higher up the bed and reaches an arm around Sam’s massive chest to lay a hand over his heart. Dean usually wakes up with a mouthful of Sam’s hair, though, and rolls away perplexed as to how he never had the same problem with women’s hair.
Rarely, they end up in what’s called the honeymoon hug position. Not the most comfortable of positions, it’s intimate, like the spoon, but more so because they face each other. Arms wrap around and lock behind the other’s back, legs bend and tangle together, nearly every inch of their bodies presses flush up against the other’s. They lay like this with faces only inches apart, kisses falling from their lips late into the night. It’s possessive and desperate and maybe a little savage but sometimes necessary.
Some nights it’s the shingles, a funny name but apropos, because Sam always feels like he’s hanging off. Dean lies on his back, arm draped loosely over Sam’s shoulder, Sam’s neck oddly bent to rest on Dean’s shoulder, so Sam feels small and safe and protected. This almost always leads directly into the sweetheart’s cradle. Sam will turn his body more towards Dean and rest his head right over Dean’s heart. He’ll listen to Dean’s heartbeat, fall asleep to its steady rhythm and to Dean’s soft breath and warm kisses against his forehead. This is Sam’s favorite position, he always sleeps the soundest like this.
Similar to the spoon, but roomier, there’s the loosely tethered. This only ever works with Dean on the spooning side (because Sam just can’t maintain the distance when it’s him). Dean scoots up behind Sam, but not quite spooning him, not quite the full body contact, and places his hand lightly on Sam’s side. From this position, Dean can watch Sam, can let his eyes roam over the broad expanse of Sam’s shoulders, see his chest rise and fall, run his fingers lightly up and down the skin of Sam’s flank. This is by far Dean’s favorite position, not because he doesn’t enjoy the closeness of some of the others, but because he’s free to look and admire openly, to adore Sam, worship him with his eyes without embarrassing either of them.
When Sam tries to tether, they end up in the pursuit, which is basically exactly the same as the spoon, but it happens at the very edge of the bed, because while Dean tries to inch forward and maintain some distance between them (usually because he’s warm, or Sam is snoring in his ear), Sam inches forward each time to close the gap.
Dean’s natural sleeping position is on his stomach, Sam’s is on his back, so sometimes when they’re over tired, they fall right into these natural poses, asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows. There’s not time for cuddles or more, or to get into any specific position on purpose. This happens frequently on longer hunts, when late nights and early morning pile up and exhaustion sets in. They both understand, and they’re comfortable enough with each other to know that not every night needs passion or cuddles or anything at all. But still, sometime in the night, one or both of them wakes up and immediately misses the other’s touch. A foot scoots over, or a leg twists up until contact is made, it’s called the leg hug.
Then there’s the nights they fight. Sometimes it’s a minor disagreement, a small irritation, when one just one gets on the other’s nerves somehow, and they need space. Again, this they understand, they’ve been together their entire lives, and been together for years, too, so it’s understood that they’ll annoy the shit out of each other sometimes. They take it in stride, they still both head to the same bed but there’s no comfortable hugs or touches. They both curl on their sides, face away, not breathing each other’s air, no one reaches out a hand or a leg, there’s almost no contact. Almost. But as their heads bend away, their bottoms are pushed together, in the zen style, and Sam feels the pressure of Dean’s soft plush ass as it rests just above his, warming his lower back.
Of course, not every fight is minor, and there are big blowouts, too. With screams and shouts and, yeah, they’re ashamed to admit, sometimes a throw of a punch or two. These nights they don’t go to bed together, usually Sam goes first, and when Dean turns in he finds him on the very edge of the bed, a clear message of stay away from me. So Dean mirrors the position on the other edge, both of them barely hanging on to the mattress in what’s aptly called the cliffhanger. These nights are few and far between, and the position almost never lasts the whole night. Nearly every time they go to sleep in the cliffhanger they wake up in the honeymoon hug, and all is forgiven.
Finally there’s the crab, and there’s only ever one reason for the crab: whiskey. Sam sprawls, sprawls across the bed after a few too many drinks, and Dean isn’t much better, he usually ends up in some half on/half off position with one leg dangling towards the floor. It’s comical looking, when Sam wakes up (because he always wakes up first like this) he takes stock of how they look and laughs as he manhandles Dean all the way back onto the bed and into his arms.
There’s a lot of different ways to arrange two bodies in a five by six and a half foot space. Sometimes the bed feels too small, sometimes too big. Sometimes it’s sweaty and stained with their release, sometimes cold and still, sometimes it’s shaking with the two trembling men on top. But in the end, however they’re arranged, it’s always the two of them together.