holdmesamthatwasbeautiful:

Sam wakes up and hears the fire crackle; they’ve borrowed
a hunter’s cabin in Wyoming for the case and it doesn’t have electricity.

He knows something is wrong, because Dean’s back
trembles, and Sam crawls closer.

“Dean?” he whispers, fingertips light against his big
brother’s naked back. It’s smooth and golden in the light of the flames, and
Sam doesn’t know why it makes his stomach flutter. “You awake?”

Dean goes taut beneath his touch. “Go back to sleep, Sammy.”

It’s not mean or harsh, but it makes Sam’s stomach churn.
“I can’t,” he whispers, because John’s snores from the couch are close. “You’re
sad.”

Dean turns around then, and Sam’s eyes go wide,
because Dean’s eyes are puffy and red in the yellow, waxy glow from the fire.
His big brother, ever so brave and true is crying, and Sam asks: “Why are you sad?”

Dean laughs strangely and puts a hand to Sam’s cheek.
He draws him close; Sam lets him, because it’s Dean. His big brother, his everything. He feels safe in Dean’s
arms.

Then, Dean whispers: “Because I think I love you too much.”

Sam doesn’t know what that means, but when he traces
his index finger down the bridge of Dean’s freckled nose, he decides.

He wants to
find out.