simplewords | I was born at night, but it wasn't last night

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I was born at night, but it wasn't last night

Two days.

Two days Sam and Dean had been crashing in the guest bedroom upstairs and it hadn't taken him an hour to realize there was a weird tension in the air. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he figured it was only a matter of time until it came to the surface. Stubborn idjits... every time he tried to ask about it, they'd try to brush it off like it was nothing.

Must've thought he was blind or something.

Not that he had time to be wasting on their feelings right now. There were people being picked off in a town up north from where they were and they needed to figure out what the hell was doing it. Bobby's money was on a water wraith, but you could never be too careful.

He sat at his desk, reading over a few texts he had spread out across it and only giving passing glances to where Sam sat, pouring over his own book. Dean had been sent off for a dinner and booze run... and as far as Bobby was concerned, he was taking too damn long.

"You find anything?"

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Sam swallows thickly around a too-big mouthful of lettuce, coughing to clear his throat of the salad dressing that clings to it.

"Just hungry," he says sheepishly. "Didn't eat much today."

Bobby let out a grunt, eyeballing the two for a moment before he went back to eating. Something still felt off... but far be it for him to bring it up. After dinner maybe, because he hadn't ate much today either.

"Yeah? You find a case or something, man?" because no offense to Bobby, but dammit, Dean needed out of here and fast. He was getting antsy, tired of playing dumb or ignoring every impulse he had to touch Sam.

He'd gotten too used to doing it.

"Yeah," he says, glad to have good news to tell his brother. "Wendigo in Eastern Oregon. I figure we can head out as soon as we deal with this wraith."

Which hopefully is soon. His leg is bouncing underneath the table as he eats, and it has nothing to do with being hyper. It's a distraction. A way to focus his attention on something other than the fact that normally he and Dean would be curled up on the couch as they ate, watching bad television and enjoying just being together. It feels like months since they last did that.

"Got as much as I can on the wraith," Bobby started, looking between the two.

"You two should get some rest... might be a busy day tomorrow." And maybe those two would relax a little bit. Sam was bouncing around like he was about to crawl out of his skin, Dean was fidgeting in his seat.

This was getting damn ridiculous.

"Getting some sleep sounds good to me. I'm kinda beat." And he kind of wanted Sam alone for a few minutes. At least they had their chance in the guestroom... besides, Sam wasn't exactly playing it too normal right now.

Hell, neither of them were, if Bobby was already questioning.

Sam manages to finish his salad- really, he's impressed with himself- before quickly making for the stairs. He's never been more grateful for the single guestroom in the house. They wouldn't have to explain sharing the room and the bed.

He waits anxiously on the edge of the bed for his brother, hoping he wouldn't be too long.

Dean headed upstairs as soon as he finished his own dinner and said a few words to Bobby -- didn't want to seem as eager as he was to get back upstairs to Sam.

When he comes up, he flashes a grin and shuts the door behind him. Bobby had never said anything before when they shared the guest room and he didn't think he'd start now... thank God for that.

"Dude, you settling down now or what?"

Sam's on his feet as soon as his brother is in the room, and once the door swings shut, he's pulling him into a tight hug.

"This sucks, Dean," he murmurs into his brother's neck, practically clinging at this point. "I hate lying, and I hate hiding, and I hate not being able to touch you."

"Sammy--" He's surprised when he's suddenly got an arm full of his little brother, clinging to him. Like he's ever been able to say no to Sam, especially like this...

He brings his arms up around him, keeping his own embrace a little more reassuring. "I know, Sammy... M'here now though."

"I want to leave," he says. Nothing at all against Bobby. He loves the man. But he wants to be back out on the road with his brother.

"Soon." Be weird if they hauled ass out of here, even if he wants to. The lying was getting on his nerves. Pulling Sam in closer, he leans in for a slow, deep kiss.

"We just gotta finish up this job first."

Sam presses into the kiss like it's the last one he'll ever get. They'd spent too long not being able to touch each other the way they'd gotten so used to. So comfortable with.

"I know. But it still sucks."

"Yeah, it does," he murmurs, letting out a sigh against Sam's lips. Slowly, he starts pushing forward, backing Sam up towards the bed.

"But we got a few minutes to ourselves. Let's enjoy it?"

Sam smiles against his brother's lips, letting himself be pushed backward and dropping back onto the bed when he feels it hit the back of his knees. He props himself up on his elbows, looking up at Dean with the dirtiest look he can manage.

"Let's."

"What are you thinking, Sammy?" He asks, smirking a little when Sam looks up at him like that, not following him just yet.

"All kinds of things, Dean."

He shifts, getting up onto his knees so his fingers can start to undo the buttons on his shirt. Sam moves to the edge of the bed, index fingers hooking in his brother's belt loops to pull him closer. He bites gently at one of Dean's ears, tongue instantly coming out to soothe the sting.

"All of them involve your cock."

"Jesus..." They shouldn't do this under Bobby's roof and he knows it. Doesn't stop him from leaning in and sliding his arms around Sam to keep him close.

"Like the way you're talking, Sammy."

"Then maybe I should keep talking," he offers, kissing his way down his brother's neck.

This is a terrible idea. He knows it is. But he needs his brother. Needs him like he needs to breathe. He starts to suck over his collarbone, then thinks better of it. The last thing they need is for Bobby to see a hickey with no way to explain it away.

He brings his hands up to tangle in Sam's hair, guiding him into a slow, deep kiss. Much as he liked where his brother's mouth was going, he couldn't touch enough, feel enough.

"Sammy... gonna have to be quiet, you know."

"I can be quiet, Dean," he promises. "Can you?"

Sam's fingers deftly work at undoing his brother's jeans, and he doesn't stop until they're in a pile at Dean's ankles.

He grins playfully when Sam pushes his jeans down. He takes that moment to step out of them, kicking them away. Hadn't put on boxers underneath this morning after his shower so all it took as slipping out of his shirt before he was entirely exposed in front of his brother.

And damn, but it felt like forever since they'd done this. "Don't worry, Sammy. I'll be good. Just tell me what you want."

Sam never ceased to be in awe of his brother's body. Sure, Sam is a little more built, but Dean is all lithe muscle and golden skin and everything Sam had ever wanted. He still plans to make good on his promise to memorize ever single freckle on his brother's body with his tongue. But that'll have to wait.

He's quick to strip out if his own clothes, no finesse in the action. He knows they don't have time for teasing.

"I'll take anything you wanna give me, big brother," he hums, kissing over his brother's chest.

Dean knew he wasn't a bad sight at all -- one area he definitely didn't lack confidence in. But Sam? Damn, Sam still took his breath away. he might not say it often, but Sam was amazing looking in his own right. Built, with all that stupid, long hair that Dean loves to tangle his fingers through... and that grin that'd light up his whole face.

Damn, when did he become a sap?

Couldn't lie and say that he hated hearing 'big brother' off those lips when they were like this. He steps forward and slips a knee on to the mattress, nudging at Sam to lay back for him. "Could think of a million things, dude."

Sam goes without a fight, laying himself out on the bed. It's half for comfort for his long limbs and half as a blatant invitation to his brother.

"I guess the real question is what we have time for," he says, propping himself up on his elbows.

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