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Dean awoke to the low sound of thunder and steady rain outside the motel. The pale light peeking around the not so blackout curtains told him it was early and he snuggled closer to the warm body next to him, kissing the shoulder blade in front of him tenderly, sleepily. The body shifted and sighed, not waking. Dean's arm slung over the ribcage of this perfect specimen now moved to spread his hand over the chest, feeling the heartbeat and the deep, constant breathing of his lover. It wasn't hot in the room, but under the scratchy sheets and the cheap synthetic motel bedspread, the two of them were damp with sweat. Dean was the “big spoon” in the scenario, despite being the smaller of the two, albeit only slightly. They were aligned at the hips, the soft curve of the other's ass nestled into Dean's abdomen, both their knees bent, feet tangled together. Dean faced the sculpted muscles of a strong upper back. He let out a sigh of contentment and nuzzled into the warm skin, brushing it with little feathery kisses, taking in the musky scent. Another sigh from the toned beauty. Dean felt himself slipping back to sleep, comforted by the rain and the incredible feeling of his brother in his arms. They were everything to each other. Had been for a long time. Moments like this made everything else seem unimportant. He drifted back into a blissful slumber.
~
Dean woke up now to the sound of the shower. Sam's warmth no longer stretched beside him on the narrow motel bed. He sighed deeply and stretched, disappointed. The bathroom door was open and steam was drifting out, the scent of Sam's soap filling the room. He lay still for a moment before getting up to join Sam. He poked his head around the shower curtain to see his lover, eyes closed, head back under the water, rinsing the shampoo out of his long hair, his hands running through his locks to get all the soap out. His muscled body relaxed under the water, chest hair shimmering as the droplets weaved through it, gathering between his pecs and turning into a little river down his ribbed stomach and beyond. Dean stepped into the tub now, and Sam tilted his head to look at him, a smile flitting across his face. He pulled Dean into the stream of water, pressing their bodies together, before switching their places and stepping back leaving Dean in the torrent of hot water. Dean had his own soap in his hands and began to lather while Sam watched. Dean didn't use the same soap as Sam because he didn't want to smell like him. He wanted to be able to distinctly smell Sam, and waited for the smell of him throughout his day. That smell was home and Dean never wanted it to disappear into the background of his life.
He lathered and scrubbed as Sam squeezed the water out of his hair as best as he could before adding a few drops of an expensive conditioner given to him by Dean, and massaging it in. As much as Sam loved his long hair, Dean loved it more. Loved running his hands through it, loved how his brother played with it when he was tired or stressed, twisting the locks around his fingers leaving temporary ringlets before he'd rifle it again with a swipe of his long fingers.
They switched places again, wordlessly, as was their routine. Dean watched his brother's body under the water, memorizing the way it caressed him.
~
As Sam spoke to him from across the diner table Dean watched the emotions flit across his face as he talked through the results of the previous day's hunt. His eyes glowed with the overall success of it, but now his brow furrowed discussing a few unexpected turns. Dean could feel Sam's determination to avoid any mistakes next time, however small, with a meticulously detailed analysis of the situation and what to improve. He was always in awe of how his brother's mind never stopped. He was listening. He would take in all of Sam's advice, his “best practices”, and always added some of his own spice to them just to show off to Sam a bit. Seeing him smile as Dean took his advice and made it his own. Sometimes, though, Dean pretended not to hear, just so Sam would take his hand and tell him it was all so he could keep Dean safe. That he couldn't lose him. Not again. He loved hearing those words. He couldn't bear to lose Sam again either.
~
On the 4 hour drive home Sam insisted they listen to a hunter podcast he had discovered recently where they discussed a rare and difficult to translate book on warding symbols. Where they came from and how to combine them to maximize their strengths against various creature combinations. Sam was positively ecstatic about some of the new revelations and although Dean was also happy with the new information he was happier still hearing Sam's enthusiastic interludes where he paused the program to excitedly discuss the implications of this or that. The awe in Sam's voice surrounding Dean in the warm blanket that was his brother's pureness. He reached out to put his hand on Sam's leg as they drove home through the grey day, Sam putting his own on top.
~
Stopping in town before home to grab beer and a few groceries, he let Sam get the veggies while he wandered the aisles. He wanted to make something nice for dinner tonight. Something Sam would enjoy instead of just tolerate. No red meat, low salt, whole grains. He decided on a whole wheat, organic spaghetti and would make a bolognese-type sauce using ground turkey and add some zucchini and whatever else Sam bought. He even picked up some parm that didn't come from a box. He knew Sam would sort out the salad while he took care of the rest.
Back at the bunker they had hours before Dean would make them dinner and he decided to wash the car after the muddy ride home, clean and prep all the weapons and re-up the trunk supplies. Sam stopped by the garage on his way out for a run. He looked fantastic in his athletic wear, and he would look even better when he returned, his body pumped from the exertion, glistening with sweat, breathing hard. Dean gave Sam a lingering kiss before watching his butt as he jogged away. He stilled the dull ache of Sam's absence by stripping and cleaning all the weapons.
~
Dean was anticipating Sam's return, wanting his brother in his arms again. He loved how Sam smelled after working out. He knew Sam was a bit embarrassed by the way Dean wouldn't let him shower until he'd taken in his rich, musky scent, but he always let him. Dean would press his face to Sam's skin, and inhale deeply, tasting the salty skin as he kissed it. Dean was feeling this need in an extra way today and when Sam arrived and went to their room he followed, watching Sam undress from the doorway before peeling off his own shirt and stepping into press himself against Sam's big, safe chest, filling his senses with the way Sam smelled and felt. His strong arms wrapped around Dean who sighed in contentment as they stood together for a few tender moments. He felt Sam shiver as his body cooled and he let him hit the showers, lingering a moment longer in his scent.
~
Sam radiated appreciation when he joined Dean in the kitchen and saw what was cooking. He stayed close to Dean while making the salad, being his taste tester until everything was ready. Dean delighted in the whiffs of Sam's smell when he walked to and from the fridge.
At dinner, Dean relished every satisfied sound that Sam made, storing them away in his memory for those days he needed something good to hold onto. Watching his enjoyment and reveling when their eyes met, seeing so much love in them. Hoping his eyes said the same thing to Sam.
~
Dean always looked forward to any waking hours spent snuggled next Sam but he doubly enjoyed movie night because he got to watch it through his brother's eyes too, watch him laugh and cry, and occasionally talk back to the TV. Sam would sometimes turn to him with a big smile on his face, and Dean would smile back, or he'd lean his head onto Dean's when he cried. Anything that brought Dean closer to Sam's world meant everything to him. He'd been watching Sam for so long, what he needed, what made him happy, since before they were together as they were now. If he didn't have Sam, he wasn't sure if he'd even have himself.
~
Dean watched Sam drop his jeans and boxers, his shirt pulled over his head, ruffling his silky hair. His lithe body was something Dean worshipped. And something he needed to kneel in front of soon, he thought. Next, Sam pulled on his favorite flannel pajama pants, but no shirt. Climbing into bed to wait for Dean to snuggle in next to him. It was the best moment of most days, for both of them.
Laying in bed now, in the pitch black, the constant hum from the bunker replacing the sound of the rain, Sam holding Dean to his chest. He listened as Sam's measured breathing became deeper, and slower, his body twitching lightly as he drifted off. Dean spent the last few moments of his day hoping tomorrow would be as good as today, his face pressed into his brother's chest, smelling his scent, nodding off at last.