Rated:PG-13
Synopsis: Sam and Dean reflect on each other and it leads to an interesting ending.
(My first fic go easy, roughly 400 words.)



I was sitting on the dock, legs swinging over the edge, my feet just barely skimming the top of the water. This was my place; I need some sort of relaxation. My brother and I’s work was stressful and terrifying, some days it was all I could do to not fall into the bed and cry. Dean had taught me to be strong but it was a daily struggle.
I heard the clomping of Dean’s thick leather boots coming down the dock. “Sammy, we gotta go, that witch bitch in Texas. I called Bobby and he’s gonna meet us out there so we better haul ass.”
I simply smile and nod; we were about 8 hours away in Ottowa, Kansas. This was what I lived for though; the long car rides with my closest friend. Dean is my strength, but we feed off one another. If there is one person I could say I truly loved, it would be Dean.
“Sammy, you ok, dude? You seem extra spacey today.”
“I’m ok Dean, when we grab our hotel I think we should talk a bit though.” I look over at this man in the driver seat and nod reassuringly.
//////////////////////////////////

We drove for what seemed like days, Sammy and I switching off when either of us got sick of driving. Finally I saw the tacky neon sign of our cheap hotel; I nudged Sam to wake him. He woke with a start and smiled at me through sleep filled eyes.
“C’mon Kiddo, let’s get in the room. I need a damn beer.” I grunted as I reach into the trunk to pull out our duffle bags, hauling them into our 70’s orange and brown room.
“Well, this is a nicely decorated place isn’t it?” Sam grinned and flopped down on the orange shag bed.
“Oh yeah, I love these tacky rooms. I imagine a bad porno happening here.” I let out a low chuckle before taking a gulp of my lukewarm Budweiser. I grab another out of the mini fridge and hand it to Sammy, our finger brushing together. That’s when I see the blush creeping up his neck, over his ears, and finally onto his cheeks.
Sam clears his throat and sips his beer, peering at me over the neck of the bottle. “So, Sammy, what did you wanna talk about?”
He stands up and sets his beer on the table behind me, our chests touching, and his breath on my lips. “Sam, what are yo-“ I was cut off by a pair of angel soft lips on mine, feather light, and a little unsure, but nonetheless it sent shivers down my spine.
“I love you, Dean.”

Fin