Why am I wake at this time? Sam asked himself as he hauled himself out of the warm embrace of his large king sized bed. No light shone through the curtains and the pitch black made the journey around his room difficult to navigate. He tripped over a pile of files sending them flying across the floor. He cursed under his breath and stuck his arms out to keep his balance.

Three nights of only a few hours of sleep was really beginning to catch up with the man as weariness was over taking him. He was really hoping on sleeping in for most of the morning to catch up as he didn't have to work on Sunday's. Being roused at God-knows what time in the morning really wasn't helping with his exhaustion.

The door bell cried out again, demanding his attention impatiently. He wanted to call out to the ringer to calm down and be patient but he really didn't want to anger his neighbors. He could hear banging on the door where the person seemed determined to wake the whole building. Do they even know what time it is? Sam fumed to himself.

Despite looking like an idiot with his arms stretched out like a mummy and eyes squinting to see

Ahead of him, Sam quickly made it to the front door. He flipped the light switch beside him and suddenly it was bright like day. It burnt his tired eyes making the man grumble to himself. The thought that maybe he should put a T-shirt on came and went quickly as he was too tired to care.

The bell was halfway through another ring when Sam ripped the door open to confront the visitor. He froze when he saw who was there and what state the man was in.

"Dean?" Sam asked incredulously. Dean had almost convinced himself that Sam wouldn't have bothered remembering his name so it was a pleasant surprise. The topless lawyer continued speaking before the visitor could reply, "What happened to you?"

Dean looked down at himself and shrugged. His whole body swayed from side to side. Maybe he'd had a little too much to drink before coming here. He had to do something but his alcohol addled brain couldn't remember what despite that the envelope was still in his pocket, resting against his chest. He didn't seem to pay any attention to the blood that was staining his clothes and drying on his skin.

"Oh God," Sam muttered as he yanked the intoxicated man inside his apartment, "Is this yours?" Sam asked desperately while gesturing to the crimson liquid.

The hunter squinted down at himself as though he was trying to deduce whether it was his blood or someone/something else's. He swayed even more while his head was ducked so Sam had to grab onto him to stop the man toppling over.

"Some of it's probably mine... S'belonged to an m'ster" He slurred while stumbling further into the clean living room. The apartment was quite big for one person but Dean guessed that lawyers make a lot of money so can afford fancy homes.

"Some is from a monster?" Sam tried to understand his drunken words, "You were hunting in this state?!" He couldn't help the need to protect this man that flooded through his body.

"Nah," Dean muttered distractedly as he leant against Sam's strong frame to keep himself upright. He hoped that no blood was soaking into his pyjama pants, "It jump out to me." Dean reached up to try and touch the soft looking brown hair that was still messed up from sleep. The taller man gently stopped him from touching him.

"So you were drunk and it attacked you?" He tried to understand the situation.

"Good job, Sammy!" He clapped like a happy child, "No wonder you make a good lawyerer... Law-er? Lawyerer?"

"You mean lawyer? And please, don't call me Sammy. That's a chubby twelve year old." He begged.

Dean seemed tired as he closed his eyes and seemed to settle down to sleep while standing against Sam's bare chest. The younger man pulled a face as the hunter was smearing blood over his skin. The red substance was mostly dry and it had begun to flake off onto his carpet. That was the last straw for Sam so he pulled the man towards the bathroom.

He threw back the shower curtain and turned on the water quickly. He had the determination of a man on a mission so didn't seem to care as some water made it onto the floor.

"This is not sexual. It's purely because you're covered in blood which is disgusting." Sam told the drunk man clearly so Dean wouldn't panic even though the hunter clearly wasn't in the headspace for thinking. He pulled off Dean's clothes one piece at a time until the man was completely naked but still at the same stage of intoxication. Dumping the clothes in the corner, Sam set a mental reminder to stick them in the washing machine or maybe even bin the worse for wear clothes.

He helped an uncoordinated Dean Winchester into the shower as the man nearly fell several times when he attempted to get in without assistance. Sam had to hold Dean up as the warm water washed over the drunkard. At this point, Sam was glad of his shirtlessness as it would have been bloody, wet and horrid to wear.

Much of the blood washed off easily but some of it required some scrubbing which was majorly uncomfortable for Sam. He still found this man attractive so having to scrub at his skin while he was naked in the shower wasn't exactly the best for him right now. He definitely didn't want to have sex with Dean while he was in this state. He'd accidentally bedded the man once before while he was verging on drunk so he was determined not to make it a common occurrence.

"Sammy! I'm tired." Dean grumbled as though he didn't even notice Sam's hands all over his body. Although, the man probably didn't as at this stage of drunkenness, not much really registered. Last time Sam had seen Dean drunk, the older man was making a conscious effort to act sober and he really was a good actor.

"Five more minutes, Dean. Then off to bed, I promise." The dried blood was beginning to all come off leaving Dean fresh and like brand new.

"Okay, big guy." Sam muttered, "Ready to get out?"

With his arms wrapped around the man, Sam managed, with some difficulty, to get the hunter out of the shower and a fluffy towel around his muscular frame. Small cuts and gashes decorated the man's body but nothing that wouldn't heal in its own. He was tempted to sew one on his torso side together but it was beginning to stop bleeding so instead Sam just bandaged it up. He hoped that it was the right move.

The man was dry within minutes so the taller man ushered him towards his bedroom. A pair of sweats were pulled from the cupboard and pulled onto the hunter's legs as the man laid back against the soft material of the duvet. The pants were slightly too long but Sam shrugged and just pulled a T-shirt over the man's head as well. It was also too big but Sam doubted that there was anything much smaller in his chest of drawers.

"Come on," The lawyer encouraged like he was calling a dog over.

It took all of his strength but he finally managed to haul a heavy-ass hunter up to the top of the bed where he rested his head against his pillows. His first-aid sense kicked in so he put him on his front just in case he was to puke in the night. He didn't want vomit on his bed but he really really didn't want a dead Dean Winchester on his bed even more. He kind of liked the guy. Pulling up the duvet, Sam tucked in the big bad hunter and watched him snore for a moment. A smile crept onto his features.

The young man considered slipping into the bed beside Dean but stopped himself. He really didn't want the other man to think that there'd been a repeat of last time. He stared at his nice large, warm bed with longing in his eye but resisted the temptation. He smoothed his fingers through the hunter's hair instead.

He grabbed one of the pillows that Dean wasn't using and a spare blanket from the wardrobe to make himself a bed on his couch. It was too short for him, the blanket was too thin and his lounge was cold but he remained there never the less. After all, being incredibly stubborn was one of his most prominent qualities.

He eventually fell asleep about an hour later with his feet hanging off the end of the couch and his neck bent at a really awkward angle. He was going to be sore in the morning.

An alarm blared out from beside him, dragging him to consciousness despite his attempts to remain asleep. Dean blinked open his eyelids and immediately the sun burnt at the sore green eyes. His head's pounding and the alarm's shrill seemed in be in synchronise. He slapped a hand out to put a cease to the infernal racket. The glowing digits on the alarm's front indicated that it was 9:30am. A frown pulled down at the corner of his lips as he didn't remember setting an alarm. Although, he couldn't remember much after stumbling out of the bar and a werewolf jumping him on the way to the Impala. At least he'd survived, he supposed.

He blinked around to get a look at the motel room that he'd crashed in over night. Everything about him froze, aside from his churning stomach, as he instantly recognized the bedroom that he was in.

"Sam." He muttered almost silently. His voice was rough like sandpaper and seriously hurt to swallow. He wondered why all their encounters seemed to happen while Dean was absolutely wasted. He couldn't help but be curious to whether they'd had sex again.

The hunter had been spread out in the middle of the bed on his stomach. It really didn't seem like there'd be enough room for anyone to sleep either side of him despite it being a big bed as Sam was a gigantic man. His stomach sloshed in complaint of its treatment last night. He stretched but a pain in his side had him wincing and curling in on himself.

He pulled up the apparently borrowed T-shirt to peer down at the bandaging on his side beneath his ribs. He pulled it away to inspect the wound and could see why Sam had decided on bandaging instead of stitches. It probably would have only required one stitch as it wasn't deep all the way along but getting it sewn up wasn't really all that important.

Instead, the hunter got up, puked in the toilet and then began the search for his host.

It wasn't hard to find Sam. The man seemed to dwarf the couch so it was pretty hard to miss him. His neck was bent at a weird angle as the pillow and arm of the couch had just acted to push his head up. The thin blanket was tossed carelessly over the large body but had clearly slipped off during the night so the majority of topless Sam was on display; it surprised Dean with how much he enjoyed the view.

Unsure on what to do, Dean perched on an armchair close to the side of the couch by Sam's feet. While waiting for the man to awaken Dean rolled up the bottom of his sweatpants to make them more suited to his slightly shorter legs. He wondered if Sam had to shop somewhere special for Sasquatches. His stomach grumbled loudly but he didn't want to go rummaging through another man's kitchen. The hunter knew that Sam wasn't the type to mind but he didn't want to just in case.

He watched Sam for quite a while and as he did questions popped into his head. Why was Sam sleeping on the couch? Didn't he want to share with Dean? They'd shared before so there shouldn't have been a problem, right? The young man frowned in confusion. Maybe Bobby was wrong. Maybe Sam didn't want a long and meaningful relationship so hadn't shared a bed to ensure that Dean got the message?

His thoughts ceases when movement came from the couch. Sam seemed to be stirring as he began to shift around with a frown on his lips as he couldn't figure out how he'd ended up not in bed. He cracked his eyes open and jumped when he saw Dean peering across at him.

Holding a hand to his pounding chest, Sam gasped, "Dean! You gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry..." Dean mumbled quietly as he tried to ignore the urge to vomit again.

"Nah, don't worry about it." Sam pulled himself up so he was sitting up but his legs were still spread out on the couch. The tired man inspected his guest from across the distance between them, "You look awful, man."

Pale skin, clammy palms and red eyes; Dean's hangover had hit hard and he knew it. He could feel it too. It felt somewhat akin to being hit but a trunk several times in a row although he was sure that some of the pain could be contributed to the werewolf attack, "Yeah? Well, you don't look like a bucket of daisies yourself, pal." He hoped that his words didn't come out too harsh. He immediately felt guilty when Sam ran a hand down his weary face.

"Yeah, I know. Works been getting to me," Sam looked away as though admitting his exhausted was weak, "Lots of stress, ya know?" When the man looked up into Dean's eyes, the hunter could see the heavy, dark bags that plagued the area beneath his hazel eyes.

"Sorry, man. I shouldn't have been so harsh..."

Sam chuckled slightly, "Don't worry about it. I know that it's the truth anyway."

"Stressed a lot then?" The older man asked hesitantly.

Sam chuckled darkly and without humor, "You could say that..." The tall man rubbed the back of his head and ran a hand through his sleep tussled hair. Yawning, he flashed his white teeth and pink tongue. Dean's stomach flipped. He blinked at himself in shock; since when has a man yawning tuned him on?

"Breakfast?" Sam asked drowsily.

Nodding, Dean followed the lawyer to the bar in the kitchen where Sam had served breakfast last time he'd stayed over. The metal of the frying pan touched the warming stove as Sam prepared to cook but the man seemed out of it.

The hunter's host rubbed his hazel eyes as he peer unseeingly into the pan as it heated. His mind seemed to drift as he remained stock still. A frown decorated Dean's face when he saw the tall man begin to sway slightly. Exhaustion was getting to the man who seemed to always have it together. Maybe that was the price from being perfect? You have to sacrifice something.

"Sam?" There was no response, "Sam!"

Sam suddenly jolted like he'd just woken up from a deep sleep, "Hmm? Yeah?"

"Here, let me." Dean gestured for Sam to sit on his chair as he began to rise to his feet.

The tall man slumped down onto the chair, lacking any of his usual grace. Resting his head in his palm, Sam gazed at Dean as he cooked some eggs.

The queasy feeling still stuck in his stomach but he was able to push it aside. Sam had been a kind enough host anyway without him pushing his hangover onto him too. A deep breath calmed his stomach and allowed him to focus back onto the food. He poked them with a spatula, mostly to keep himself entertained, as he waited.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Dean managed after a few minutes of thinking over his drunken behaviour.

"For what?" The lawyer perked his head up.

Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I ruined a much needed nights sleep."

"Nah," Sam yawned, "Don't worry about it."

"And I made a drunken ass of myself again."

Sam smiled lightly as he fiddled with odd objects that he found on the table. A light tapping noise echoed around the quiet area as the tall man distracted his fingers. He was clearly listening even if he lacked the energy to form any sort of response.

"I'll make it up to you by making you a delicious breakfast then getting out of your way so you can actually get back into bed." Dean negotiated, "Sound like a plan?"

Sam merely nodded wearily.

They both only picked at the breakfast. One too tired and one too hungover. They both decided they really didn't want to participate in the social convention of breakfast at around the same time. Dean began to haul on his jacket but Sam stopped him with a tired hand on the shoulder.

"I'm not the kind of man..." He yawned, "To kick out a guest while they're hungover."

The taller man wrapped his hand around Dean's wrist and led him to the bedroom. Sam jumped into the bed and pulled the duvet up high. Dean stripped off his tshirt before sliding in next to his host.

Sam shuffled forward and wrapped an arm around Dean's torso. He only held gently so Dean could push him away if he wanted. Instead, Dean put an arm up around Sam's shoulders and pulled him closer.

It wasn't long until they were both asleep.

-A month later-

"Sam." Dean mumbled into his partner's hair, "Your cell is ringing."

The lawyer huffed before throwing out an arm to grope for his phone. All while keeping his eyes closed and face muffled in Dean's chest. He pulled the cell to his ear and opened the call.

"Mhhh?"

"Sam? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Bobby asked, concerned.

"Mh, fine."

"Okay... Have you heard from Dean? I haven't seen him in a few weeks and he wasn't answering his phone last night?" The old hunter explained.

However, the lawyer only heard half of the questions as he immediately held the phone against Dean's ear while still not moving for him comfortable position. Dean mumbled in surprise at first before he managed to answer.

"Yeah, Bobby. I'm here."

There was a brief silence,"What are you doing at Sam's apartment?" He sounded suspicious.

"I've been staying at Sammy's a bit over the last few weeks. Whenever I'm passing through or nearby." He wasn't going to admit that he'd made a 3 hour detour from his journey to his next case to spend the night curled up with Sam.

"Why?" The man's voice came through the phone.

"I don't know. I think I like him." He murmured. His fingers began to draw patterns on his partner's back. He could feel Sam almost purr with delight. "I want to keep him but he says he won't even consider packing up the day job." He chuckled.

Sam huffed but couldn't hide the humour in his voice, "I'm not a stray dog, Dean."

Dean waited to hear Bobby's response, "I'm happy for you two." He spoke gently. "I may hate to admit it but you really do suit each other. He'll be a good influence on you but remember that if you hurt him..."

"You'll rip out my spleen?" He tried to sound serious but he just found himself so damn funny. He chuckled.

"Stop winding him up, Dean." Sam scolded, taking the phone from his lover. "Thanks for calling, Bobby. I'll send you a message later." Sam murmured before switching off the phone and dumping it on the side table.

He curled into Dean again and "mmhhhhed" in satisfaction.

- 4 Months Later-

"Sam!" Bobby cried, delighted to see the man, "It's been over a year!"

Sam grinned at him, his hand intertwined with Dean's, "Next time we have to get together sooner!" He stepped forward to wrap an arm around the old hunter. Bobby embraced him back like a son.

"Dean!" Bobby greeted the hunter next with a bear hug, "Why didn't you drag Sam down here sooner? How've you been?"

The Winchester chuckled and stepped in off the porch, "I'm real good thanks. You know how Sam can be when it comes to work! I couldn't even rip a case file from his fingers for this week stay! Such a workaholic!"

"I'm not a workaholic. I'm just dedicated to my clients." Sam's statement rang only partly true with everyone in the room, even himself. He rolled his eyes when the men just stared at him blankly. He strutted into the living room set down his bags but bobby stopped him and instead waved him straight upstairs.

The couple peered into the spare room with its two single beds and chuckled. They took a side each and pushed them together to form one decent sized bed. They grinned at each other.

"Look," Bobby sighed, poking his head around the doorway, "Do what you want with the beds but I don't want to be woken up at 2am by strange noises."

"Don't worry, Bobby." Sam smirked, mischievously, "All of Dean's noises are relatively normal."

Both the hunters paled and the elder nodded quickly before hurrying back down the stairs. Sam, meanwhile, was red with laughter.

"You shouldn't tease him like that!" Dean scolded.

Sam poked his tongue out and flopped onto their bed. He grinned. "What are you going to do about it?"

Dean grinned back and marched over to the other man threateningly before relaxing and pulling him in for a hug.

"Thank you, Sammy."

"For what?"

Dean chuckled, "For taking me home that first night." He kissed him softly.

Thank you so much for all the reviews and favourites! It really makes my day! I hope you enjoyed this little story and please make sure you check out my other works X