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The Impala was an icebox, the winter chill seeping through and shrouding the brothers with its embrace.
"G-God, when w-will Bobby's f-friend g-g-get here?" Sam whined, curled in on himself. The sight was odd; a giant man trying to be as small as possible to retain some warmth.
"C-C'mere," Dean sighed and pulled his brother up to him, setting the Twix down on the dashboard, the chocolate protected in its wrapper so it wouldn't get the dash dirty. Dean pulled Sam's hands from underneath his armpits and closed his own around them, gently rubbing for the warmth of friction. Sam's nose was a cheery pink, cheeks the same color but for reasons other than the relenting cold. All that wild hair was tucked into a beanie, with a jacket hoodie over that. He looked young. Like he was 12 again, swallowed up by winter clothing.
"S'getting d-dark," the younger Winchester whispered, feeling his hands warm some from the constant rubbing of his brother's hands.
"Bobby s-said Joey w-would get here b-by 11. W-Won't be long n-now," Dean replied, staring lovingly into the bright hazel. Warmth blossomed inside of him and it had nothing to do with sharing body heat. He leaned down to capture Sam's frozen lips in a kiss, goosebumps shooting down his arms and legs from the icy chill on them. The other kissed back slowly, their hands melding into each other to hold, not to rub for friction. The winter was unforgiving and cold but the Winchesters were as warm as could be.