"We immediately had this bond, but as you know with any of your best friends or whoever you share a lot of secrets with in your life: You can share an immediate stronger bond, but still get stronger and stronger and stronger. We just got close and we continue to grow. I think with any relationship, whether it’s romantic or platonic or familial, I think the more you go through, the more highs and lows you see, the more you come out the other side stronger." -Jared Padalecki
I don't need protective custody - I just need stability.
Sam defending Cas
You’re the new Will Graham.
He swipes the blade too close. Sam dodges. Dean can hear the blood rattle under Sam’s skin, watches him stumble back. The demon knife in his hand, Dean pretends that he needs to keep back, save himself. He remembers Cain.
"Gonna see you on the rack real soon, Sammy. Gonna be the one to put you there."
"Dean, you can fight this, please!"
"Only thing I’m gonna fight’s you, bitch."
It’s growled, angry. Sam skids into a spare room to collect his stance. Dean follows. He kicks the door open and laughs, dark.
"C’mon, man. Where’s your sense of adventure, huh? Ain’t you the one who liked Huck Finn?"
"Surprised you even know what that is."
"Sam, that’s cold."
Dean stops in the middle of the room. He gives Sam a chance, a chance to lunge. He’s knocked off balance, catches himself, spins, slams, snaps his arm against Sam’s neck, lifts him inches from the ground. All stretched out.
Sam pants. He struggles in place. His feet skitter on open air. Dean lowers him. Arm hard enough to almost cut Sam’s breath, Dean smirks.
"It’s always been you and me, huh?"
"Don’t. Dean. Please."
"Every first. Hell, I shoulda had your first time, too."
Sam tenses, more than he had before. He can’t shake his head, not with the pin against the wall, but he tries.
"It’s kinda the way we are. All fucked up. We’re one guy, Sammy. Can’t live without you. Fuckin’, fuckin’ half missin’ if you ain’t here."
"Never knew how I felt, did you? Never even fuckin’ asked. And, fuck, that’s all you ever did. Ask questions. Fuckin’ oversharin’. Just never asked the right one."
A pained grimace strikes across Dean’s mouth. He pushes harder at Sam’s throat before he leans in and forces their lips together. Sam has to gulp air, suck it in. Dean shoves his tongue inside. It’s too hot, wet, that taste of Dean. Sam cries out, muffled by their kiss. Dean won’t let go. Makes him swallow.
He pulls back. When he grins, his tongue is bite-slashed, teeth marked. Sam can feel red slide towards his gut.
"God. Oh, oh God—"
"It’s always you and me."
yes hello 911 dean drunk dialed sam while he was in college