Innocent, teenage Sammy watching Dean change, in a cramped, two star motel in some podunk town, after Dean comes in from a particularly nasty hunt. Dean peels off his shirt, blood smeared across his abdomen, making his way toward the shower. Sam tries to avert his eyes, tries to focus his attention on his book–but Dean’s too beautiful and all he can do is stare with rapt attention. Dean’s never touched Sam before, but god, Sam wants him to. Dean ruffles Sam’s hair and playfully asks, “Enjoyin’ the view, Sammy?” and Sam quickly looks away, blushes so hard he thinks his face is going to burts into flames.
A few years later, in a similarly grimy motel, in a similarly podunk town, a similarly grimy Dean bursts through the door, covered in blood and the guts of some monster, eager to strip down and rinse the grit from his mouth. Only this time, the innocence in Sam’s expression is gone; replaced with something Dean can’t quite place. He tries to tease Sam with a similar line; “Like what you see, Sammy?” in the debonaire, cocky tone that only Dean can muster. This time, Sam’s answer is anything but similar to what it was before, as he looks his older brother up and down.