If I owned Supernatural, there would be a lot less plot and a lot more broments. Just sayin'.

Oh My. God.

Sam was going to kill him.

Sam was going to kill his older brother.

He gritted his teeth as Dean moved around in the squeaky motel bed for the eight hundredth time.

The hunter rolled over and stared at the ceiling. A funky water stain made a blob that looked like a snowman. Sam studied the coffee-colored blotch intently. Anything to take his mind off of the-

Squeak.

Sam seriously thought about picking up the rifle and smacking his brother in the head. He pulled the other pillow off of the floor and mashed it into his face, the pillow case scratchy and smelling of old cheese.

Squeak.

He glanced at the clock. Four thirty. Only a little while longer, Sam. You can do it. Then you can sleep all you want while he's awake. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Silence.

Sam sat up. No squeak?

He heard a soft snore and silently cheered. Dean was asleep.

He settled back down under the covers with a small smile. Now he could finally-

SQUEEEAK.

"OW! What the hell, Sam!" Dean rolled over to face his little brother. He was sitting on the bed, hair sticking up like a psycho killer. His left eye was twitching.

"Dean, I swear to God, if you move and that bed squeaks one more time I will shoot you in the fucking face."

Dean grabbed the pillow and threw it back at Sam. "My apologies, princess. We can't all sleep like friggin' statues."

Sam groaned and flopped back onto the mattress.

"Don't you have earplugs or something, man?"

"No, the foreign maid at the last place vacuumed up my last pair," Sam grumbled, eyes closed.

He heard the rustling of sheets. Something plastic hit his head.

Three minutes later, Sam fell asleep with a pair of earplugs and a ripped package that said in Dean's chicken scratch- Emergency earplugs for bitch.

Dean rolled over and was about to fall asleep-

Squeak.

He turned to glare at Sam.

Dammit.

Inspired by past experiences of sharing a room with a sibling. Hope you enjoyed!