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two hearts in one home

Summary:

The boys comfort each other after a hunt (almost) gone wrong.

Notes:

Basically just fluff without plot and comfort without hurt. Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Leaning back against the table, Dean looked up.
"I-"
Dean tried again, "I-I,"; without saying a word, Sam approached with light steps and slowly laced his arms around his brother's torso.
His hands found a grip just below Dean's shoulder blades; the leather of their father's jacket, now Dean's own, rattled with the grip.
Gently, he lowered his head, not looking Dean in the eyes as they were already closed.
Finally, with that simple gesture from Sam, tears pooled in Dean’s eyes.
"God, Sam."
Closing his eyes, shiny with emotion, Dean reached from memory for Sam’s hairline.
There he rested his lips and left them for a long time, never letting a kiss pop escape.
Sam's soft sigh reached his throat and he felt his brother's chest relax, his hands closing even more.
"You really scared me this time."
The words were whispered with his lips grazing Sam’s forehead.
He smiled, "If you try that one more time, I'll kill you."
Sam replied with a sniff.
And laughing softly, ending with a smile complete with dimples.
Dean's heart grew lighter.
Moving even closer, Sam abandoned Dean's previously kissed forehead on his big brother’s shoulder.
With a lump in his throat, Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair and rested Sam’s head more securely against the side of his neck.
He sensed on his sensitive skin the pout that usually preceded crying.
Briefly in the motel room there was silence.
With his other hand, Dean found Sam's face.
Knowing it was wet, he gently ran two fingers under his little brother’s eyes, which had been closed the entire time.
Suddenly recovering from the atmosphere, he realized he had tear tracks on his own cheeks.
Laughing, he closed his hand into a fist and, with his shirt sleeve sticking out of his jacket, quickly wiped his face.
As Sam's hands encircled him completely, coming to turn over his shoulders, his hand, previously stuck in soft hair, absentmindedly descended on the little one’s back.
Sam asked murmuring, "I love you, you know that?"
Dean pulled up with his nose, dropping his own head against Sam's.
He smiled again, "Yeah, I know."

Notes:

I found this in my notes yesterday and i posted it without changes from the original. I hope it had brought you some butterflies in your stomach. ❤️