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Sam feared this was all a convincing act meant to preserve their relationship. He searched Dean’s eyes for the slightest hint of disdain or disgust; all he saw was contentment and acceptance. “Dean…” After a moment of hesitation, Sam embraced his brother tightly. He was enraptured to know that, for once, everything was going to be alright between them. Sam closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief, smiling. He could hardly remember the last time they’d held each other like this. The feeling of Dean’s arms wrapped around him, the warmth of his body… Sam absentmindedly pressed his lips again

Now Dean really wanted to know what Sam was hiding. He hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed next to his little brother, who held his face in silence. Sam was torn between two terrible choices: finally telling Dean the truth and seeing what happens, or keeping his secret hidden and leaving things as they are. He sighed, sitting up straight to look at Dean. “Cas is right… I need to tell you… I really don’t know how to say this, Dean, but…” Sam closed his eyes, thinking. He sighed and tried letting the words flow on their own. “Back in the church… I was relieved that we were finally about to

“So what was it you wanted to tell me, Sam?” Dean waited for an answer; Sam waited for the right words to come to him. He leaned over, elbows resting on his legs, and breathed deeply. Mustering his courage, Sam sat up straight and looked Dean in the eyes. His lips barely parted when the radio spewed out a flicker of white noise before tuning in to another song at full volume. All my life I’ve felt this way, but I could never find the words to say-- Then silence. Dean was not amused. “Alright, what the hell’s going on with this thing?” He got off the bed a second time to investigate the spastic machine. Sam

It was a quiet evening in the Men of Letters bunker, and Sam tried to relax in bed with an interesting book and a cold beer, something much easier said than done as Dean’s footsteps fell silent right outside his door for the fourth time that night. Sam glanced up whenever Dean paused at his doorway, wondering if his older brother would actually knock or say something. Dean had chickened out and kept on walking three times already, but this time his knuckles met wood and he waited for a response. The bolted lock clicked and Sam opened the door. He looked at his brother questioningly before gesturing for him to come in. Things had been a