rating(s): 14a for brothers in love.
notes: two ickle baby ficlets for halfshellvenus, happy birthday. ♥ and the first one is also for belovedsnail: found a place for that softserve vanilla/ammunition. :)
Sam eats half-melted soft serve vanilla alone at the end of a diner's bar, plastic spoon bent and twisted at the handle. He thinks about how he can't live without his brother. Or ammunition. Or ice cream.
The bell above the door jingles and Dean struts in and looks around trying to find Sam. Their eyes catch and hold, and then Dean slides on to the barstool beside him and steals his spoon.
"You're welcome." Dean mutters, and Sam grins because Dean's back and because he totally ate all the cherries and sprinkles first, hah!
"Dean," Sam whispered, "Dean, wake up."
Dean slid down under the covers further. It was warm, stark contrast to the cold outside, white blankets over the trees and the cars and them in their bed.
Sam laughed in his ear. "Dean, we have to get up."
"Says who?" Dean whispered back.
It was a monday, and they were sick of it already.
They slept in until one, just to get most of it over with. Sam insisted they get up, even though Dean's hands on the inside seam of Sam's pj bottoms were warm and familiar.
They kissed across the counter in the room's kitchenette, saying good morning with their hands, good afternoon and hello and i'd missed you with their lips and teeth. They had lunch for breakfast, stealing fries and salad from each other in a diner's tiny corner booth.