Sam's Dean

Can I blame this on Britney Spears? I wasn't listening to her album at first, but then I was, and here.

He's had dreams. Nightmares, really. Where he woke up with Dean beside him.

Smiling.

Eyes open.

And peaceful.

And dead.

Or he'll blink, and his eyes will be completely black.

In either dream, honestly, it was really a nightmare, Sam always found that his brother's ass was still leaking from their last night together.

"Stop staring at me," Dean growls in the front seat as he steers the Impala around a slow driver, and flicks the other driver off before speeding past.

Sam nods, and looks away slowly, but stares at Dean through his peripheral, which he knows Dean knows he's doing, and is glad that he's not making a stink about him doing this.

He kisses the back of Dean's neck meeting his ass halfway as he thrusts forwards again to be buried in his older brother.

"God, I love you Dean."

Please don't leave me.

"Yeah Sammy," Dean will pant jacking himself off.

He wonders if Dean ever knows that he's promising him something.

"Sam! Shoot me!" his father urges lying on the floor a bullet from the Colt in his leg, and a pained expression on his face.

He doesn't hesitate to point the gun at his father's face aiming the Colt's gun right between the eyes.

"You killed Dean," he announced darkly in the silent room filled with huffs of breathing. "You'll have to wait a while before I can deal with you," he says pulling the trigger ignoring the confused look on the man's face.

He lies down next to Dean's peaceful body. Bloody everywhere, but still drop dead gorgeous.

"Sammy, I know I'm hot."

In less than a year, Sam has always been a busybody overachiever, he's taken over Hell, and has both Purgatory, and Heaven in his grasp.

John Winchester has been in the pit enjoying the company of everything and everyone he's ever angered, or killed. Sam still doesn't think he's gotten what he's deserved.

Sam's eyes open, and stare into the green one's he knows so well, and smiles.

They blink slowly before pulling into a grin.

"Good morning."

Dean.

The world's burning outside of their room to the soundtrack of them making love.

"No chick flick moments, Sammy-Sam Sam."

To them fucking.