For Sam’s birthday, Dean gives him what he’s always given ever since he was born: his unconditional and eternal love.
Sam was sitting in the library, again, lost in his own thoughts and research. Dean thinks he probably doesn’t even remember what day it is. With a worried, but fond smile, Dean walks towards his brother and wraps his arms around Sam’s shoulders, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose on the line of Sam’s jaw, just below his ear. Sam makes a purring sound and Dean smiles bigger.
“Happy birthday, little brother.” Dean whispers. From the corner of his eye, he sees their initials carved in the wooden table, his heart still beating faster with the memory of what it means, what he and Sam mean.
Sam turns his face so his and Dean’s cheek can touch, his eyes closed. He was still making the purring noise, the adorable sound Sam makes when he’s tired, but happy. “Thanks, Dean. I got lost in research, completely forgot it was today.” Just like he always did. That’s where Dean comes in.
“Well, I’m feeling particularly generous today, so I’ll even let you choose where we eat today. I’m willing to eat as much rabbit food as you want me.” Sam laughs and turns to face Dean.
“Seriously?” Dean nods and Sam thinks about it for a second. “Can we order a delivery and then tuck in for the rest of the day? I’m not as young as I thought I was a minute ago. Just wanna spend the day with you, away from the world and the people we have to save.”
Dean looks at the table again, he knows what Sam means. Between Lucifer, the British dicks and the cosmic consequences Billie left waiting for them, their lives have been in constant red alert. That knot on the tip of his stomach, that never leaves when he’s worried about Sam’s safety is always present. They’re both too old for this, so Dean doesn’t blame Sam for wanting to guarantee their safety at least for today. Not that Dean minds being tangled with his brother on the bed all day.
“That’s what I consider a good day.” Dean reassures him, kissing Sam’s cheek before reaching for his phone.
They order all the healthy food Sam loves so much and sit on the kitchen to eat. Dean teases and make faces to his food, because he knows that’s what Sam is expecting him to do, and because he never gets tired of seeing Sam’s little ‘you’re an idiot, Dean’ smile. It’s Sam’s birthday, after all, he should give all of his smiles, and Dean is eager to see them all.
After lunch, Dean opens the fridge and shows his home made birthday cake to his brother. Three layers of three different types of chocolate.
“When Sully paid us a visit last year and prepared that diabetic table of food for you, I recognized one of the cakes as my official birthday cake for you, when we were kids. I remember baking it for you when you were six, and I remember how excited you got. You ate too much and threw up.” Dean smiles with the memory, but Sam looks almost sad. Dean knows him enough; he knows Sam is just affected by the surprise. It’s almost as good as watching him smile.
“Thanks, big brother.” His voice is low, so full of emotion. It never stops getting to Dean, how much his brother loves, how innocent he can still be sometimes.
They eat just one piece. Dean sits next to Sam, their legs tangled together in their need to always touch the other, and they feed each other with spoons full of cake. The sugar isn’t nearly as sweet as having Sammy smiling at him the whole time.
When they finish eating and walk back to the library, Dean pushes Sam on top of the table; their initial carved just beneath them, and kisses him slowly, one hand cupping Sam’s cheek and the other stroking his hair. It’s loving, intimate and Dean takes his time getting small, soft sounds from his little brother. I love you so much I can’t stop touching you, I wanna make you happy, I love you. Dean sends his message to Sam through movements of his tongue and the way he touches Sam, like he’s too precious, too good to be real, which is exactly like Dean thinks he is.
When they break apart, Sam keeps his eyes closed for a few seconds, licking his lips and searching for what’s left of Dean on his mouth. Dean does the same. Sam opens his eyes, looking almost sleepy, and smiles again. Dean smiles back, victorious.
“You know, there’s other thing, besides eating, that we could make like rabbits.” Dean gives a suggestive smile and Sam laughs loud, Dean’s favorite song since he was a child.
“You make sure to keep that in mind for later.” Sam reaches for Dean’s mouth, locking their lips. Sam’s hand pushes Dean on top of him again, but they only kiss. Kissing Sam is one of the few miracles of Dean’s life, and he would never get used to it; it was like destruction and creation, like pain and pleasure, a feeling of wholeness, but a constant wish for more. Always more. Being around Sam, loving him so completely, like Dean did, was always overwhelming. Sam deserves nothing less.
“So crazy for you, little brother.” Dean lets out, between sticking his tongue inside Sam’s mouth and biting his lower lip. “You’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”
Sam nods eagerly, his eyes closed and his breathing coming out a little unstable. “I’m nothing without you, Dean.” Sam whispers and it sounds like a promise. A promise that breaks Dean’s heart, but makes it beat more alive than ever.
Dean moves his mouth to the line of Sam’s jaw, sucking slightly on the soft skin of his neck. He brushes his tongue from Sam’s neck to his earlobe, biting at the tip. Sam is breathing hard.
“Okay, I think we can fuck like rabbits right now.” Sam huffs a laugh.
Sam guides Dean to his room and lock the door. Not like any of the British dicks would be able to interrupt Dean from loving his brother if they break in the bunker, but it shows just how serious Sam was about wanting to be alone with him. Sam stands next to the bed and starts undressing, his look locking Dean on place, watching him. Sam speaks while taking his clothes off.
“34 years old, amazing I’ve lived this long.” Dean opens his mouth to say he will make sure Sam lives to see his hair growing white, but Sam doesn’t let him. “If I’m alive today, Dean, it’s for you. And because of you. There’s not one piece of me that is not connected to you, and it’s been like this since I was a baby.” Sam is naked, he closes the space between him and Dean. “For 34 years, I’ve been yours, Dean.”
That causes Dean to react, kissing Sam like it was his death wish. It might as well be. Dean pushes Sam on the bed and takes his time giving Sam all the pleasure he can, all the pleasure he deserves. Every broken sound that escapes Sam’s mouth goes straight to Dean’s heart. When Dean’s finally inside his little brother, both of them forget how to breathe, so they kiss. Giving the oxygen they need to live, each other.
When it’s over, Dean lies with his legs stretched and Sam’s head on his belly, his brother’s gigantic body shrunken in a fetal position. Always the baby brother, Dean thinks. Sam’s fingers are playing with Dean’s belly button, tickling just a little. Dean’s fingers brush through Sam’s hair, massaging his scalp just the right way Dean knows can make Sam sleep in minutes. He always worries about his brother’s terrible sleeping schedule, so he always gives him all the comfort he can.
Dean looks down and laughs, looking at the only grey strand of hair on his brother’s head.
“Age is finally coming your way, baby boy.” He shows the strand to Sam. “Soon I’ll be brushing my fingers through a sea of grey hair.” He teases.
Sam seems to consider it for a moment. “We really are growing old together. You should start looking for reservations at a rest home, soon.” He smiles to Dean, with hopeful eyes.
“Consider it done, little brother.” Dean says and reaches to kiss Sam. If growing old together is what Sammy wants for his birthday, then that’s exactly what Dean will give to him.