(no subject)
So last week DTTE!Sam and Dean answered your questions, and then there were more questions, and then it turned into a thing, and.... um. Then there was more. Something like 5,000 words of more. Because, to quote Ginger (who gets about fifty billion friend points for hand-holding, suggestions and occasional "don't do that, you psycho" comments through this whole thing): "Brevity is not the soul of Eso." Also Sam and Dean kind of like to hear themselves talk, and yes, I am talking about my characters like they're real people, and yes, I am insane, so I'm going to shut up and post the damn thing already.
Once Down to the End 'verse, once again hardcore meta-crack, once again completely ludicrous and utterly implausible. Still not fic, still adult-rated slash.
Dean: *glaring at Eso* You said we were done.
Eso: Technically, you just assumed.
Dean: We have better things to do than answer a bunch of pansy-ass questions about u-- *breaks off suddenly*
Sam: About what?
Dean: About pointless shit.
Sam: *amused* You were going to say "about us," weren't you?
Dean: *muttering* Someday that overactive imagination is going to get you into trouble.
Sam: *sighing* Look, the sooner you stop bitching and start answering questions--
Dean: *hopefully* The sooner you can blow me?
Sam: I was going to say, the sooner we can get back to killing things, but that works too.
Dean: Yeah?
Sam: If you manage to get through this without pissing me off too much.
Dean: Oh, no. You get pissy about everything. I get a guaranteed blowjob out of this or I'm walking now.
Sam: God, you are such a baby.
Dean: *shoves back his chair and stands up*
Sam: Fine, Dean. Finish this and I'll suck you off no matter how much I want to kill you.
Dean: Wait a minute, I don't want your teeth anywhere near my dick if you're going to--
Sam: Dean. Sit down, shut up, and let them ask their questions. I will make it worth your while when we're done, I promise.
Dean: *drops back into his chair, folds his arms, and glares stonily forward*
Sam: *rolling his eyes* This is probably as good as he's going to get. Ask your questions.
daysoflo:
DTTE!Sam: Where do you picture you and Dean ten years from now?Sam: I... don't, really. Hunting's such a day-to-day gig, it's hard to plan for the future. I'd like... I think at some point we'll have to establish a home base, a little stability--
Dean: *clears his throat loudly*
Sam: Something you'd like to add?
Dean: Am I allowed to talk now?
Sam: *sighs heavily* Yes, Dean, you're allowed to talk.
Dean: *sarcastically* Thank you.
Sam: *after a moment* Well?
Dean: What?
Sam: Ten years from now?
Dean: You know damn well I'm not going to give up hunting and start playing house--
Sam: I didn't say anything about giving up hunting.
Dean: You said--
Sam: I said a home base. Plenty of hunters have them.
Dean: How are we going to be able to afford that, genius?
Sam: We could sell that land Pastor Jim left us. Find a little place, open a garage, maybe...
Dean: How the hell are we going to keep a business running if we're on the road all the time, Sam?
Sam: Bobby runs a business. Ellen runs a business. Joshua runs a business. Hell, Pastor Jim had a congregation. We don't actually have to police the entire country, Dean. There's no reason we couldn't stake out, like, a five-state radius, stick to hunts that we actually know exist instead of following every half-baked lead we come across...
Dean: Tell your visions that.
Sam: We have to go looking for most of our hunts. And every third one ends up a bust--
Dean: It's a pipe dream, Sam.
Sam: No, Dean, it isn't. We're getting older--
Dean: Speak for yourself.
Sam: --and at some point we're going to have to figure out how we're going to survive when we can't do this full-time anymore. You have to have thought about this.
Dean: I--
Sam: What?
Dean: I guess I never thought I'd live that long.
Sam: Start thinking it. We're going to be old men when we die, Dean, and we're going to die at home, and we're going to die together.
Dean: *rolls eyes* This isn't Romeo and Juliet, Sammy.
Sam: No, it isn't. They died young.
Dean: In our line of work--
Sam: Most people in our line of work don't have another hunter who knows them better than they know themselves to watch their back, or someone who'd die before letting anything happen to them.
Dean: You see the flaw in that logic?
Sam: No, I don't. *as Dean opens his mouth* And no, I don't want you to explain it.
Dean: You've got this all figured out, huh?
Sam: No, Dean, I don't have much of anything figured out. I just know that in ten years, or twenty, or thirty, we're going to be together and we're going to be hunting. The logistics will sort themselves out.
Dean: *silent*
Sam: You don't have anything to add to that?
Dean: You're not always as dumb as you look.
Sam: *smiles softly* I get the important things.
Dean: *uncomfortable* Don't get all mushy, Sam, jesus.
Sam: *laughing a little* Hey, you bring out the best in me.
DTTE!Dean: What's Sam like in the morning?Dean: Annoying. Just like he is the rest of the time.
Sam: I'm more of a morning person than he is.
Dean: And he has scary-ass morning breath.
Sam: Doesn't seem to stop you from kissing me.
Dean: Sometimes it's the only way to shut you up.
Sam: I usually wake up first. Most the time I get up, go get coffee or jump in the shower--
Dean: And he always wakes me up and tells me he's leaving, because if he can't sleep he doesn't think anyone else should be able to--
Sam: But sometimes I just kind of doze and wait for Dean to wake up.
Dean: *darkly* Or he wakes me up for no reason whatsoever.
Sam: Usually in ways you enjoy, so quit bitching.
Dean: You ever think that maybe sometimes I just want to sleep?
Sam: I really don't.
Dean: *beat* Keep up the good work.
Sam: *smirking* I intend to.
kali_sama:
Sam and Dean: What is your favourite thing about each other? Physical or just a quirky habit.Sam: *amused* Go ahead...
Dean: Why do I have to go first?
Sam: Because you're the one who can rattle off the top ten things you love about me without even thinking about it.
Dean: What color is the sky in your world?
Sam: You denying it?
Dean: I couldn't get to one.
Sam: You want that blowjob or not?
Dean: *grudgingly* He's not a bad fuck.
Sam: Go on.
Dean: I'm not saying there's no room for improvement, but you're not entirely horrible.
Sam: And now you're never getting laid again.
Dean: *scoffs* Like you could resist.
Sam: I'm not you, Dean. You remember how long I got by with my hand after Jessica?
Dean: *looks briefly worried* You wouldn't--
Sam: Oh, I would.
Dean: *glowers* Fine. *to Kali* He, um. He does this thing--
Sam: *listens intently*
Dean: This would be a lot easier if you were somewhere else.
Sam: Suck it up.
Dean: *carefully not looking at Sam* When he's really concentrating, he kinda tilts his head to the side, and sometimes the tip of his tongue pokes out, and he looks exactly like he did when he was five, which shouldn't be possible considering he's so freakishly big now, but--
Sam: Awwwwwwwwwww.
Dean: Look, asshole--
Sam: *grinning* Nostalgic for the days when you could still pick me up and carry me, huh?
Dean: Nostalgic for the days when I could still kick your-- um.
Sam: *delighted* Did you actually just admit you can't kick my ass anymore?
Dean: No.
Sam: Yes, you did.
Dean: Whatever, bitch, it's your turn. What's your favorite thing about me? And don't say my dick, that's too easy.
Sam: *dryly* I wasn't planning on it.
Dean: Well, go on.
Sam: When you wake up in the morning the first thing you do is reach for me.
Dean: *groans* Not this shit again, Sammy, please.
Sam: Just shut up and let me get through this, okay?
Dean: Oh, god, there's more? Can't you just talk about how hard I make you come or something, you know, not totally queer?
Sam: *shoots Dean a quelling look* When we're hunting you always try to put yourself between me and whatever we're after. I don't even think you notice you're doing it half the time, it's just instinctive--
Dean: *quietly* I notice.
Sam: Yeah, well. I do, too.
Dean: *after a moment, gruffly* It's just my job, Sam.
Sam: I kind of like being your job.
Dean: *shrugs, clearly trying for a sharp comeback, clearly failing* Yeah. Okay.
Sam: And I like watching you drive.
Dean: That's just weird.
Sam: You're just so happy when you're driving. Like everything you want in the world is right there...
Dean: *curious* Is this why we can't ever get through a day on the road without you blowing me?
Sam: No?
Dean: *grinning* I thought the Impala just made you really horny.
Sam: You're the one who wants to have sex with the car, Dean.
Dean: *shifty* It was just that once.
Sam: I really don't want to know.
Dean: Like you don't come in three seconds flat when I bend you over the hood.
Sam: It has nothing to do with the car!
Dean: Whatever, Sammy. Own your fetish already.
Sam: *sighs*
Dean: Does it get you hot when I'm working on the car?
Sam: *swallows and says nothing*
Dean: *smiling like a shark*
Sam: Shut up, Dean.
Dean: *thoughtfully* You know, she could really use a tune-up...
Sam: *somehow managing to sound both eager and shamefaced both at once* Yeah?
Dean: *laughing* You are so easy.
Sam: At least I'm not lusting over you looking like a kindergartner.
Dean: Blow me.
oxoniensis:
DTTE!Sam: If you suggested a threesome to Dean, would he agree, and if he did, who would he want as the third person (assuming you could pick anyone whatsoever)?Dean: I'll take this one. Yes, yes, yes, and Jessica Alba.
Sam: No.
Dean: Pamela Anderson? Jennifer Love Hewitt? The chick from the Whitesnake video?
Sam: *bitchface* You have no taste.
Dean: Obviously, look who I'm fucking at the moment.
Sam: Whatever, Dean. We're not having a threesome.
Dean: *sounding like a five-year-old who's just dropped his ice cream cone in the mud* Why not?
Sam: Because I don't particularly want to fuck anyone who isn't you.
Dean: You are such a goddamn girl.
Sam: You saying you want to fuck other people?
Dean: Do you have any idea how much I miss pussy?
Sam: *pissily* Clearly I don't.
Dean: A lot.
Sam: Fine.
Dean: *sighing* Is this gonna be a thing?
Sam: Nah. You're right, we could both use a change.
Dean: *taken aback* Really?
Sam: Sure. Let's pick up a girl tonight.
Dean: Wait... um. Tonight?
Sam: Any girl you want. You fuck her, I'll fuck her, she can blow me while you eat her out...
Dean: I... okay. I mean, fuck, yeah. Um... soon as we're done here.
Sam: I get her first.
Dean: Fuck no... uh, I mean. Fuck that, I'm not taking sloppy seconds.
Sam: *unconcernedly* I don't mind seconds. I just want her to myself for awhile, okay?
Dean: Thought you didn't want to fuck anyone who isn't me.
Sam: *shrugs* Hey, I've missed pussy, too.
Dean: *looking increasingly unhappy* Look, Sammy, maybe we...
Sam: Hmm?
Dean: Well, I mean... maybe this isn't--
Sam: *brightly* Isn't what?
Dean: *mumbling* Something to rush?
Sam: *trying not to look smug and failing utterly* You sure?
Dean: I just think... maybe we should... I mean.
Sam: *generously* We can figure it out later, I guess.
Dean: *relieved* Yeah. Later.
Sam: *smiles into his hand*
DTTE!Dean: Does Sam know you carry a picture of him in your wallet?Sam: You carry a picture of me?
Dean: No.
Sam: Let me see.
Dean: I'm not giving you my wallet, dude.
Sam: I can't even remember the last time I had my-- Dean.
Dean: What?
Sam: You didn't take a picture of me while I was sleeping, did you?
Dean: *vehemently* No! What's wrong with you?
Sam: *breathes a sigh of relief* So what's the picture?
Dean: *uncomfortable* It's just an old one, Sammy. From high school, I think. I got slimed after I... a month or two before you caught up with me, maybe. I had to get a new wallet, and I found a picture buried in the back of the old one.
Sam: You've had a picture of me in your wallet since before I left for Stanford?
Dean: I guess. I don't even remember putting it there.
Sam: Can I see?
Dean: *shrugs and digs out his wallet*
Sam: *laughing* Christ, when was this taken? I look about 12!
Dean: Summer before your senior year, maybe?
Sam: I can't believe you've had this all that time.
Dean: Don't make this into a thing, Sam. I just forgot I had it.
Sam: I didn't have any pictures of you. At school, I mean. Drove me crazy that first year.
Dean: Good thing. You'd never have gotten laid if the Stanford girls saw what they were missing.
Sam: *laughing quietly* Probably not.
Dean: Can I have my picture back?
Sam: *looks at Dean intently for a moment, then leans forward and presses a quick kiss against his lips*
Dean: *blinks* What was that for?
Sam: *shrugging as he hands back the picture* Just wanted to.
Dean: You are such a freak.
Sam: *tiny smile* Makes two of us, I guess.
And a question for either of you to answer: Did you ever find a cheerleader outfit in Dean's size?Dean: You know he wasn't serious about that, right?
Sam: I wasn't serious.
Dean: *does a double-take* You actually want to see me dressed a cheerleader, don't you? You little pervert.
Sam: I'd prefer Han Solo.
Dean: That would make you Princess Leia.
Sam: That makes me Luke Skywalker.
Dean: *choke* Are you trying to destroy my childhood?
Sam: *dreamily* It's a balmy night on Endor, and I slip away, overcome with everything that's happened, but you follow me and our lips meet under the stars--
Dean: *actually wide-eyed with horror* Dude, what is wrong with you?
Sam: What, you don't think it'd be hot?
Dean: You're a sick fuck, Sammy.
Sam: *grins*
destina:
Sam - tell the truth, since we know you can find Dean anyway: The only reason you wanted Dean to get that location charm tattooed on is because it's freaking hot that Dean let himself be marked for you, right?Sam: *smugly* I don't need a mark to tell me who he belongs to.
Dean: *rolls eyes*
Sam: It was fucking hard to find him. But yeah, I could have done it again without the charm, if I had to. It just makes things a lot easier. And I guess... once he agreed I knew he wasn't going to try run again. It was as much the fact that he was willing to bind us together like that as the charm itself that made me start breathing easy again.
Dean: "Bind us together"?
Sam: You know what I mean.
Dean: You're not going to launch into "for better or for worse," are you?
Sam: *laughing* No.
Dean: Thank god. *to Destina* He's lying anyway, he totally gets off on it. He's damn near sucked it raw a few times.
Sam: Hey, I didn't say I didn't like it. Just that my intentions were pure.
Dean: Once he actually jerked off against it and then rubbed his come in.
Sam: *turning red* Dude, don't tell her that!
Dean: Why not? It's true.
Sam: *squirms uncomfortably*
Dean: *grins* I like yours too, little brother.
Dean: you've wished it, but. If you could do a magic incantation today and give Sam's gift back, would you really? And more importantly, do you think Sam would want to?Dean: Damn right I'd give it back.
Sam: It's saved your life a few times.
Dean: Mostly when my life wouldn't have been in danger if you hadn't had a vision in the first place.
Sam: It's helped us a lot. There's a hundred cases we wouldn't have closed.
Dean: I'd have closed 'em.
Sam: It's just a tool, Dean. It's a pain in the ass sometimes, but it's not a bad thing.
Dean: *flatly* Anything that hurts you that much is a bad thing.
Sam: It doesn't hurt very often now.
Dean: You still get headaches. You still have nightmares.
Sam: It's a moot point anyway. We're stuck with it.
Dean: Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.
Sam: Does it really bother you that much?
Dean: Something fucking with you that I can't kill? Yeah, Sam, it bothers me.
Sam: *looks at Dean seriously for long moments*
Dean: *shifting in his seat* What?
Sam: *softly* Just--
Dean: I swear to god if you get chick-flicky on me again I'm going to leave your ass by the side of the road.
Sam: No, you won't.
Dean: I'll give all your hoodies to Goodwill and put fire ants in your bed.
Sam: *grins* Our.
Dean: Huh?
Sam: Our bed.
Dean: *disgusted* You need help.
Sam: Nope, I'm good.
Dean: *muttering under his breath* Pansy.
adora_spintriae:
Dean: Do you believe in heaven and hell? Sam: Same question.Dean: There's a hell. I've sent enough things screaming into it.
Sam:*thoughtful* There's something. I don't know if it's the standard Judeo-Christian concept or something more like the hell dimensions on Buffy, or something else altogether. But hell -- for some definition of hell -- definitely exists.
Dean: I don't really give a shit what it is. I just know a lot of evil sons of bitches would rather die than go there, and I know I send 'em there whenever I get the chance.
Sam: Heaven, though... I've never really thought about it. If there's a hell, it seems like there must be some converse, but--
Dean: If there's a god he fell down on the job a long time ago.
Sam: I don't think you can--
Dean: Hell, yes, I can. If there's a god why is there so much evil? What the hell could you have done to deserve everything that's happened to you, Sam? What kind of god would let a demon--?
Sam: I don't think it's that simple. Think of how many lives we've saved, Dean. If it wasn't for Mom, and then for Jess-- a lot of other people would be living the horror we lived.
Dean: *staring* You're saying there's a god because our lives getting completely fucked up was good for some other people?
Sam: I'm saying I think there's a balance to the universe that's hard to explain without some kind of benevolent higher power.
Dean: Real fucking benevolent.
Sam: You love hunting, Dean. If things had been different, you wouldn't even know this would existed. You can't tell me you regret that.
Dean: I was made for this, Sam, but you... you should have had a life.
Sam: *quietly* I have a life. And I wouldn't trade it.
Dean: When did you turn into fucking Pollyanna?
Sam: I'm just saying I haven't ruled out the possibility of god, or heaven, or any of the rest of it. There's as much good in the world as evil, and I don't know if that could exist without a counter-balancing force.
Dean: And I'm just sayin' if there's a god he's fucked in the head. We lost Mom, we lost Dad, we lost everything--
Sam: If Mom had lived, you'd have a nine-to-five job and a ex-cheerleader wife and you'd read about mysterious deaths in the paper and wonder why the police weren't doing anything about them. And you and me... we'd see each other on holidays, maybe play a round of golf once a month--
Dean: Never happen.
Sam: Yeah, it would have. Bad shit made us who we are, Dean, and yeah, it sucks that we had to live through it, but you know what? We ended up where we're supposed to be, doing what we're supposed to be doing, and I think that says something.
Dean: Wait, are you actually counting the fact that we're fucking each other as proof there's a god?
Sam: Well, not in so many--
Dean: *suddenly amused* I knew I was good, Sammy, but--
Sam: Oh, shut up.
Dean: *grinning* Of course you think there's a heaven, I send you there twice a day.
Sam: I can't believe you turned this into a discussion about sex.
Dean: Hey, you started it. I'm just playing along.
starsouls1013:
Dean: What's your favorite place on Sam's body to kiss/touch? Sam, same question about Dean.Dean: I'm happy with any place I can stick my dick into.
Sam: You really couldn't be any classier, you know that?
Dean: *brightly* I'll take that bet.
Sam: *ignoring Dean* I don't know if he has a favorite place. He doesn't really focus on one spot--
Dean: We spend a lot more time fucking than we do on foreplay shit.
Sam: *amused* Once he spent an entire afternoon kissing every scar and mole I have, like he was mapping me--
Dean: *glaring* Only because you were being a great big girl and refusing to put out until I made you feel pretty.
Sam: You'd just fucked me. And we didn't even go again when you were done, you just curled up against me and fell asleep.
Dean: You are such a goddamned liar.
Sam: Mine would be... I don't know. He loves it when I suck his nipples. I think I could make him come just from that, if I could ever get him to hold still long enough.
Dean: *rolling eyes* Sam has this obsession with making me come without touching my dick. It's fucking annoying.
Sam: *grinning* It worked that time in Montana.
Dean: Yeah, but every other time you've just given me blue balls for like four hours.
Sam: And then when I finally touched you, you shot so hard you nearly reached the ceiling.
Dean: *smiling a little* There is that.
Sam: I like the freckles on his collarbone, too. And the tattoo.
Dean: And?
Sam: And what?
Dean: There's a lot more that's hot about me.
Sam: You didn't even list one thing!
Dean: Yeah, but look at me! You have so much more to work with!
Sam: *bitchface*
Dean: Aw, don't cry, Sammy. It's not your fault I got all the good genes.
Sam: Bite me.
alikcin:
Dean: What would Sam have to do to convince you to get another tattoo?Sam: Why would I want him to get another tattoo?
Dean: 'cause the one I have now gets you so hot?
Sam: I'll pass.
Dean: Oh, come on. Convince me, Sam!
Sam: *shrugs* Not that big on tattoos.
Dean: *hopefully* You could convince me to do something else.
Sam: Nothing comes to mind.
Dean: Buzzkill.
Sam: What is the kinkiest thing you've ever wanted to do with/to Dean?Sam: I liked his idea about fucking in public. People always stare at Dean--
Dean: *smugly* They can't really help themselves.
Sam: --and I love the idea of just pushing him against the wall in a room full of people, all of them wishing like hell they could have him but knowing they can't, because he's mine.
Dean: *sarcastically, though his breathing has quickened a bit* I love when you play caveman.
Sam: I wanna fuck you hard, Dean. I wanna make it hurt. Make you take it until you think you can't anymore, until you think you'll die if I don't let you come. I want you whining and begging and so desperate you'd promise anything just to get my hand on your cock. And I want everyone to see you like that and know I did it to you. That I'm the only one in the world who gets to do that to you.
Dean: *whimpers*
Sam: *brightly* Actually I just want to have sex with the lights on.
Dean: *sputters* You--
Sam: I don't really go for that kink stuff. Delicate sensibilities and all.
Dean: I will kill you in your sleep.
Sam: Play your cards right, and someday maybe we can even have sex outside.
Dean: *bitterly* You're a cock-teasing bitch, Sammy.
Sam: *grinning* Only for you, baby.
hanasyoubu:
DTTE!Dean: Does it bother you that Sam is in fact bigger and taller than you? Has he ever taken advantage of that fact and manhandle you? Do you guys share clothes? What's your favourite piece of Sam's clothing?
DTTE!Sam: Does your greater height and weight compare to Dean give you advantages when you guys have a fight/disagreement? Have you ever been tempted to manhandle Dean when he's dead set to do something you don't want him to do? Do you guys share clothes? What's your favourite piece of Dean's clothing?Dean: You get one question. One.
Sam: I don't think that was actually spelled out.
Dean: *darkly* It was implied.
Sam: I think we're stuck.
Dean: Fine. No, he wishes, no, like I pay any attention to what he wears.
Sam: I borrow your shirts sometimes.
Dean: And you always stretch them out, because you're Andre the fucking giant.
Sam: Dean's a little sensitive about the height issue.
Dean: *scoffs* Like I'd want to be sixteen feet tall.
Sam: I don't have to manhandle Dean. I probably could--
Dean: In your dreams, freakboy.
Sam: --but it never comes to that. Usually I just look at him and he does whatever I want.
Dean: *gaping* Are you saying I'm whipped?
Sam: Sometimes I have to say "please"...
Dean: I'm not whipped.
Sam: *soothingly* Of course you're not.
Dean: *glares*
Sam: You've just never been very good at saying no to me, is all.
Dean: Just because I try to keep you happy so I don't have to listen to you bitch and moan all the time doesn't mean--
Sam: You've got that part down, anyway.
Dean: Listening to you bitch and moan?
Sam: Keeping me happy.
Dean: *groans loudly*
Sam: I don't think I have a favorite piece of clothing, though.
Dean: Thank christ for that.
mandy_padackles:
DTTE! Dean: Did you really have no idea that Cassie was hitting on you and Sam was outright jealous? I mean, c'mon, for someone so smooth with the ladies, it's kinda hard to believe.Sam: Wait, you didn't know?
Dean: Of course I knew. This is me -- she couldn't resist if she tried.
Sam: *delighted* You had no idea the whole thing was a set up, did you?
Dean: Please, it was obvious.
Sam: *laughing* God, Dean, that whole time I thought--
Dean: What?
Sam: *shaking head* Nothing.
Dean: I didn't know you were jealous, though. I forgot what an insecure little bitch you are.
Sam: The love of your life, who, by the way, looks like a fucking Playboy bunny, was throwing herself at your head, and you were licking it up. What was I supposed to think?
Dean: Maybe that there's nothing in the fucking world I want more than-- *breaks off abruptly*
Sam: Really?
Dean: I didn't say anything.
Sam: *grins* Yeah, you did.
Dean: Whatever, Sammy. I'm just saying you're a moron.
Sam: *softly* Yeah. I was.
Dean: Good thing I'm smart enough for both of us. *beat* Handsome, too.
Sam: *to Mandy* Ask your next question before he starts composing himself a sonnet.
DTTE! Sam: What's the most romantic thing Dean has ever done for you?Sam: *promptly* Giving me his amulet.
Dean: It was a loan.
Sam: You were planning to come back for it?
Dean: *says nothing, suddenly fascinated by the floor*
Sam: Dad gave it to him after his first kill, and I don't think he'd ever taken it off. *to Dean* I wore it the whole time you were gone.
Dean: It wasn't a gesture. It's a protection charm, it was just practical.
Sam: You left, and yeah, you're an idiot, but you left for me, because you thought it's what I needed, and you left me something that's almost a part of your skin...
Dean: It's just a necklace, Sam.
Sam: *softly* Not to you, it isn't.
Dean: Whatever, it wasn't romantic.
Sam: I think it was.
Dean: *with as much big-brother venom as he can muster, which, at the moment, isn't much* You would.
Sam: I don't... I don't know if I could have found you without it.
Dean: *small voice* Oh.
Sam: Yeah. *trying to smile, not quite managing it* Good thing you were practical, huh?
Dean: Sammy--
Sam: I missed you. God, I missed you. And it was all I had, it was the only way I could feel you, and if you hadn't left it we might never--
Dean: We did, though.
Sam: *blinking hard* Lucky for me you're a huge sap.
Dean: *barely audible* Lucky.
Sam: *swallowing* Can we--
Dean: *at the same time* I want--
Sam&Dean: *look at each other for a minute, then practically run from the room*
AND THEN THEY HAD LOTS OF REALLY HOT SEX THE END
Once Down to the End 'verse, once again hardcore meta-crack, once again completely ludicrous and utterly implausible. Still not fic, still adult-rated slash.
Dean: *glaring at Eso* You said we were done.
Eso: Technically, you just assumed.
Dean: We have better things to do than answer a bunch of pansy-ass questions about u-- *breaks off suddenly*
Sam: About what?
Dean: About pointless shit.
Sam: *amused* You were going to say "about us," weren't you?
Dean: *muttering* Someday that overactive imagination is going to get you into trouble.
Sam: *sighing* Look, the sooner you stop bitching and start answering questions--
Dean: *hopefully* The sooner you can blow me?
Sam: I was going to say, the sooner we can get back to killing things, but that works too.
Dean: Yeah?
Sam: If you manage to get through this without pissing me off too much.
Dean: Oh, no. You get pissy about everything. I get a guaranteed blowjob out of this or I'm walking now.
Sam: God, you are such a baby.
Dean: *shoves back his chair and stands up*
Sam: Fine, Dean. Finish this and I'll suck you off no matter how much I want to kill you.
Dean: Wait a minute, I don't want your teeth anywhere near my dick if you're going to--
Sam: Dean. Sit down, shut up, and let them ask their questions. I will make it worth your while when we're done, I promise.
Dean: *drops back into his chair, folds his arms, and glares stonily forward*
Sam: *rolling his eyes* This is probably as good as he's going to get. Ask your questions.
daysoflo:
DTTE!Sam: Where do you picture you and Dean ten years from now?Sam: I... don't, really. Hunting's such a day-to-day gig, it's hard to plan for the future. I'd like... I think at some point we'll have to establish a home base, a little stability--
Dean: *clears his throat loudly*
Sam: Something you'd like to add?
Dean: Am I allowed to talk now?
Sam: *sighs heavily* Yes, Dean, you're allowed to talk.
Dean: *sarcastically* Thank you.
Sam: *after a moment* Well?
Dean: What?
Sam: Ten years from now?
Dean: You know damn well I'm not going to give up hunting and start playing house--
Sam: I didn't say anything about giving up hunting.
Dean: You said--
Sam: I said a home base. Plenty of hunters have them.
Dean: How are we going to be able to afford that, genius?
Sam: We could sell that land Pastor Jim left us. Find a little place, open a garage, maybe...
Dean: How the hell are we going to keep a business running if we're on the road all the time, Sam?
Sam: Bobby runs a business. Ellen runs a business. Joshua runs a business. Hell, Pastor Jim had a congregation. We don't actually have to police the entire country, Dean. There's no reason we couldn't stake out, like, a five-state radius, stick to hunts that we actually know exist instead of following every half-baked lead we come across...
Dean: Tell your visions that.
Sam: We have to go looking for most of our hunts. And every third one ends up a bust--
Dean: It's a pipe dream, Sam.
Sam: No, Dean, it isn't. We're getting older--
Dean: Speak for yourself.
Sam: --and at some point we're going to have to figure out how we're going to survive when we can't do this full-time anymore. You have to have thought about this.
Dean: I--
Sam: What?
Dean: I guess I never thought I'd live that long.
Sam: Start thinking it. We're going to be old men when we die, Dean, and we're going to die at home, and we're going to die together.
Dean: *rolls eyes* This isn't Romeo and Juliet, Sammy.
Sam: No, it isn't. They died young.
Dean: In our line of work--
Sam: Most people in our line of work don't have another hunter who knows them better than they know themselves to watch their back, or someone who'd die before letting anything happen to them.
Dean: You see the flaw in that logic?
Sam: No, I don't. *as Dean opens his mouth* And no, I don't want you to explain it.
Dean: You've got this all figured out, huh?
Sam: No, Dean, I don't have much of anything figured out. I just know that in ten years, or twenty, or thirty, we're going to be together and we're going to be hunting. The logistics will sort themselves out.
Dean: *silent*
Sam: You don't have anything to add to that?
Dean: You're not always as dumb as you look.
Sam: *smiles softly* I get the important things.
Dean: *uncomfortable* Don't get all mushy, Sam, jesus.
Sam: *laughing a little* Hey, you bring out the best in me.
DTTE!Dean: What's Sam like in the morning?Dean: Annoying. Just like he is the rest of the time.
Sam: I'm more of a morning person than he is.
Dean: And he has scary-ass morning breath.
Sam: Doesn't seem to stop you from kissing me.
Dean: Sometimes it's the only way to shut you up.
Sam: I usually wake up first. Most the time I get up, go get coffee or jump in the shower--
Dean: And he always wakes me up and tells me he's leaving, because if he can't sleep he doesn't think anyone else should be able to--
Sam: But sometimes I just kind of doze and wait for Dean to wake up.
Dean: *darkly* Or he wakes me up for no reason whatsoever.
Sam: Usually in ways you enjoy, so quit bitching.
Dean: You ever think that maybe sometimes I just want to sleep?
Sam: I really don't.
Dean: *beat* Keep up the good work.
Sam: *smirking* I intend to.
kali_sama:
Sam and Dean: What is your favourite thing about each other? Physical or just a quirky habit.Sam: *amused* Go ahead...
Dean: Why do I have to go first?
Sam: Because you're the one who can rattle off the top ten things you love about me without even thinking about it.
Dean: What color is the sky in your world?
Sam: You denying it?
Dean: I couldn't get to one.
Sam: You want that blowjob or not?
Dean: *grudgingly* He's not a bad fuck.
Sam: Go on.
Dean: I'm not saying there's no room for improvement, but you're not entirely horrible.
Sam: And now you're never getting laid again.
Dean: *scoffs* Like you could resist.
Sam: I'm not you, Dean. You remember how long I got by with my hand after Jessica?
Dean: *looks briefly worried* You wouldn't--
Sam: Oh, I would.
Dean: *glowers* Fine. *to Kali* He, um. He does this thing--
Sam: *listens intently*
Dean: This would be a lot easier if you were somewhere else.
Sam: Suck it up.
Dean: *carefully not looking at Sam* When he's really concentrating, he kinda tilts his head to the side, and sometimes the tip of his tongue pokes out, and he looks exactly like he did when he was five, which shouldn't be possible considering he's so freakishly big now, but--
Sam: Awwwwwwwwwww.
Dean: Look, asshole--
Sam: *grinning* Nostalgic for the days when you could still pick me up and carry me, huh?
Dean: Nostalgic for the days when I could still kick your-- um.
Sam: *delighted* Did you actually just admit you can't kick my ass anymore?
Dean: No.
Sam: Yes, you did.
Dean: Whatever, bitch, it's your turn. What's your favorite thing about me? And don't say my dick, that's too easy.
Sam: *dryly* I wasn't planning on it.
Dean: Well, go on.
Sam: When you wake up in the morning the first thing you do is reach for me.
Dean: *groans* Not this shit again, Sammy, please.
Sam: Just shut up and let me get through this, okay?
Dean: Oh, god, there's more? Can't you just talk about how hard I make you come or something, you know, not totally queer?
Sam: *shoots Dean a quelling look* When we're hunting you always try to put yourself between me and whatever we're after. I don't even think you notice you're doing it half the time, it's just instinctive--
Dean: *quietly* I notice.
Sam: Yeah, well. I do, too.
Dean: *after a moment, gruffly* It's just my job, Sam.
Sam: I kind of like being your job.
Dean: *shrugs, clearly trying for a sharp comeback, clearly failing* Yeah. Okay.
Sam: And I like watching you drive.
Dean: That's just weird.
Sam: You're just so happy when you're driving. Like everything you want in the world is right there...
Dean: *curious* Is this why we can't ever get through a day on the road without you blowing me?
Sam: No?
Dean: *grinning* I thought the Impala just made you really horny.
Sam: You're the one who wants to have sex with the car, Dean.
Dean: *shifty* It was just that once.
Sam: I really don't want to know.
Dean: Like you don't come in three seconds flat when I bend you over the hood.
Sam: It has nothing to do with the car!
Dean: Whatever, Sammy. Own your fetish already.
Sam: *sighs*
Dean: Does it get you hot when I'm working on the car?
Sam: *swallows and says nothing*
Dean: *smiling like a shark*
Sam: Shut up, Dean.
Dean: *thoughtfully* You know, she could really use a tune-up...
Sam: *somehow managing to sound both eager and shamefaced both at once* Yeah?
Dean: *laughing* You are so easy.
Sam: At least I'm not lusting over you looking like a kindergartner.
Dean: Blow me.
oxoniensis:
DTTE!Sam: If you suggested a threesome to Dean, would he agree, and if he did, who would he want as the third person (assuming you could pick anyone whatsoever)?Dean: I'll take this one. Yes, yes, yes, and Jessica Alba.
Sam: No.
Dean: Pamela Anderson? Jennifer Love Hewitt? The chick from the Whitesnake video?
Sam: *bitchface* You have no taste.
Dean: Obviously, look who I'm fucking at the moment.
Sam: Whatever, Dean. We're not having a threesome.
Dean: *sounding like a five-year-old who's just dropped his ice cream cone in the mud* Why not?
Sam: Because I don't particularly want to fuck anyone who isn't you.
Dean: You are such a goddamn girl.
Sam: You saying you want to fuck other people?
Dean: Do you have any idea how much I miss pussy?
Sam: *pissily* Clearly I don't.
Dean: A lot.
Sam: Fine.
Dean: *sighing* Is this gonna be a thing?
Sam: Nah. You're right, we could both use a change.
Dean: *taken aback* Really?
Sam: Sure. Let's pick up a girl tonight.
Dean: Wait... um. Tonight?
Sam: Any girl you want. You fuck her, I'll fuck her, she can blow me while you eat her out...
Dean: I... okay. I mean, fuck, yeah. Um... soon as we're done here.
Sam: I get her first.
Dean: Fuck no... uh, I mean. Fuck that, I'm not taking sloppy seconds.
Sam: *unconcernedly* I don't mind seconds. I just want her to myself for awhile, okay?
Dean: Thought you didn't want to fuck anyone who isn't me.
Sam: *shrugs* Hey, I've missed pussy, too.
Dean: *looking increasingly unhappy* Look, Sammy, maybe we...
Sam: Hmm?
Dean: Well, I mean... maybe this isn't--
Sam: *brightly* Isn't what?
Dean: *mumbling* Something to rush?
Sam: *trying not to look smug and failing utterly* You sure?
Dean: I just think... maybe we should... I mean.
Sam: *generously* We can figure it out later, I guess.
Dean: *relieved* Yeah. Later.
Sam: *smiles into his hand*
DTTE!Dean: Does Sam know you carry a picture of him in your wallet?Sam: You carry a picture of me?
Dean: No.
Sam: Let me see.
Dean: I'm not giving you my wallet, dude.
Sam: I can't even remember the last time I had my-- Dean.
Dean: What?
Sam: You didn't take a picture of me while I was sleeping, did you?
Dean: *vehemently* No! What's wrong with you?
Sam: *breathes a sigh of relief* So what's the picture?
Dean: *uncomfortable* It's just an old one, Sammy. From high school, I think. I got slimed after I... a month or two before you caught up with me, maybe. I had to get a new wallet, and I found a picture buried in the back of the old one.
Sam: You've had a picture of me in your wallet since before I left for Stanford?
Dean: I guess. I don't even remember putting it there.
Sam: Can I see?
Dean: *shrugs and digs out his wallet*
Sam: *laughing* Christ, when was this taken? I look about 12!
Dean: Summer before your senior year, maybe?
Sam: I can't believe you've had this all that time.
Dean: Don't make this into a thing, Sam. I just forgot I had it.
Sam: I didn't have any pictures of you. At school, I mean. Drove me crazy that first year.
Dean: Good thing. You'd never have gotten laid if the Stanford girls saw what they were missing.
Sam: *laughing quietly* Probably not.
Dean: Can I have my picture back?
Sam: *looks at Dean intently for a moment, then leans forward and presses a quick kiss against his lips*
Dean: *blinks* What was that for?
Sam: *shrugging as he hands back the picture* Just wanted to.
Dean: You are such a freak.
Sam: *tiny smile* Makes two of us, I guess.
And a question for either of you to answer: Did you ever find a cheerleader outfit in Dean's size?Dean: You know he wasn't serious about that, right?
Sam: I wasn't serious.
Dean: *does a double-take* You actually want to see me dressed a cheerleader, don't you? You little pervert.
Sam: I'd prefer Han Solo.
Dean: That would make you Princess Leia.
Sam: That makes me Luke Skywalker.
Dean: *choke* Are you trying to destroy my childhood?
Sam: *dreamily* It's a balmy night on Endor, and I slip away, overcome with everything that's happened, but you follow me and our lips meet under the stars--
Dean: *actually wide-eyed with horror* Dude, what is wrong with you?
Sam: What, you don't think it'd be hot?
Dean: You're a sick fuck, Sammy.
Sam: *grins*
destina:
Sam - tell the truth, since we know you can find Dean anyway: The only reason you wanted Dean to get that location charm tattooed on is because it's freaking hot that Dean let himself be marked for you, right?Sam: *smugly* I don't need a mark to tell me who he belongs to.
Dean: *rolls eyes*
Sam: It was fucking hard to find him. But yeah, I could have done it again without the charm, if I had to. It just makes things a lot easier. And I guess... once he agreed I knew he wasn't going to try run again. It was as much the fact that he was willing to bind us together like that as the charm itself that made me start breathing easy again.
Dean: "Bind us together"?
Sam: You know what I mean.
Dean: You're not going to launch into "for better or for worse," are you?
Sam: *laughing* No.
Dean: Thank god. *to Destina* He's lying anyway, he totally gets off on it. He's damn near sucked it raw a few times.
Sam: Hey, I didn't say I didn't like it. Just that my intentions were pure.
Dean: Once he actually jerked off against it and then rubbed his come in.
Sam: *turning red* Dude, don't tell her that!
Dean: Why not? It's true.
Sam: *squirms uncomfortably*
Dean: *grins* I like yours too, little brother.
Dean: you've wished it, but. If you could do a magic incantation today and give Sam's gift back, would you really? And more importantly, do you think Sam would want to?Dean: Damn right I'd give it back.
Sam: It's saved your life a few times.
Dean: Mostly when my life wouldn't have been in danger if you hadn't had a vision in the first place.
Sam: It's helped us a lot. There's a hundred cases we wouldn't have closed.
Dean: I'd have closed 'em.
Sam: It's just a tool, Dean. It's a pain in the ass sometimes, but it's not a bad thing.
Dean: *flatly* Anything that hurts you that much is a bad thing.
Sam: It doesn't hurt very often now.
Dean: You still get headaches. You still have nightmares.
Sam: It's a moot point anyway. We're stuck with it.
Dean: Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.
Sam: Does it really bother you that much?
Dean: Something fucking with you that I can't kill? Yeah, Sam, it bothers me.
Sam: *looks at Dean seriously for long moments*
Dean: *shifting in his seat* What?
Sam: *softly* Just--
Dean: I swear to god if you get chick-flicky on me again I'm going to leave your ass by the side of the road.
Sam: No, you won't.
Dean: I'll give all your hoodies to Goodwill and put fire ants in your bed.
Sam: *grins* Our.
Dean: Huh?
Sam: Our bed.
Dean: *disgusted* You need help.
Sam: Nope, I'm good.
Dean: *muttering under his breath* Pansy.
adora_spintriae:
Dean: Do you believe in heaven and hell? Sam: Same question.Dean: There's a hell. I've sent enough things screaming into it.
Sam:*thoughtful* There's something. I don't know if it's the standard Judeo-Christian concept or something more like the hell dimensions on Buffy, or something else altogether. But hell -- for some definition of hell -- definitely exists.
Dean: I don't really give a shit what it is. I just know a lot of evil sons of bitches would rather die than go there, and I know I send 'em there whenever I get the chance.
Sam: Heaven, though... I've never really thought about it. If there's a hell, it seems like there must be some converse, but--
Dean: If there's a god he fell down on the job a long time ago.
Sam: I don't think you can--
Dean: Hell, yes, I can. If there's a god why is there so much evil? What the hell could you have done to deserve everything that's happened to you, Sam? What kind of god would let a demon--?
Sam: I don't think it's that simple. Think of how many lives we've saved, Dean. If it wasn't for Mom, and then for Jess-- a lot of other people would be living the horror we lived.
Dean: *staring* You're saying there's a god because our lives getting completely fucked up was good for some other people?
Sam: I'm saying I think there's a balance to the universe that's hard to explain without some kind of benevolent higher power.
Dean: Real fucking benevolent.
Sam: You love hunting, Dean. If things had been different, you wouldn't even know this would existed. You can't tell me you regret that.
Dean: I was made for this, Sam, but you... you should have had a life.
Sam: *quietly* I have a life. And I wouldn't trade it.
Dean: When did you turn into fucking Pollyanna?
Sam: I'm just saying I haven't ruled out the possibility of god, or heaven, or any of the rest of it. There's as much good in the world as evil, and I don't know if that could exist without a counter-balancing force.
Dean: And I'm just sayin' if there's a god he's fucked in the head. We lost Mom, we lost Dad, we lost everything--
Sam: If Mom had lived, you'd have a nine-to-five job and a ex-cheerleader wife and you'd read about mysterious deaths in the paper and wonder why the police weren't doing anything about them. And you and me... we'd see each other on holidays, maybe play a round of golf once a month--
Dean: Never happen.
Sam: Yeah, it would have. Bad shit made us who we are, Dean, and yeah, it sucks that we had to live through it, but you know what? We ended up where we're supposed to be, doing what we're supposed to be doing, and I think that says something.
Dean: Wait, are you actually counting the fact that we're fucking each other as proof there's a god?
Sam: Well, not in so many--
Dean: *suddenly amused* I knew I was good, Sammy, but--
Sam: Oh, shut up.
Dean: *grinning* Of course you think there's a heaven, I send you there twice a day.
Sam: I can't believe you turned this into a discussion about sex.
Dean: Hey, you started it. I'm just playing along.
starsouls1013:
Dean: What's your favorite place on Sam's body to kiss/touch? Sam, same question about Dean.Dean: I'm happy with any place I can stick my dick into.
Sam: You really couldn't be any classier, you know that?
Dean: *brightly* I'll take that bet.
Sam: *ignoring Dean* I don't know if he has a favorite place. He doesn't really focus on one spot--
Dean: We spend a lot more time fucking than we do on foreplay shit.
Sam: *amused* Once he spent an entire afternoon kissing every scar and mole I have, like he was mapping me--
Dean: *glaring* Only because you were being a great big girl and refusing to put out until I made you feel pretty.
Sam: You'd just fucked me. And we didn't even go again when you were done, you just curled up against me and fell asleep.
Dean: You are such a goddamned liar.
Sam: Mine would be... I don't know. He loves it when I suck his nipples. I think I could make him come just from that, if I could ever get him to hold still long enough.
Dean: *rolling eyes* Sam has this obsession with making me come without touching my dick. It's fucking annoying.
Sam: *grinning* It worked that time in Montana.
Dean: Yeah, but every other time you've just given me blue balls for like four hours.
Sam: And then when I finally touched you, you shot so hard you nearly reached the ceiling.
Dean: *smiling a little* There is that.
Sam: I like the freckles on his collarbone, too. And the tattoo.
Dean: And?
Sam: And what?
Dean: There's a lot more that's hot about me.
Sam: You didn't even list one thing!
Dean: Yeah, but look at me! You have so much more to work with!
Sam: *bitchface*
Dean: Aw, don't cry, Sammy. It's not your fault I got all the good genes.
Sam: Bite me.
alikcin:
Dean: What would Sam have to do to convince you to get another tattoo?Sam: Why would I want him to get another tattoo?
Dean: 'cause the one I have now gets you so hot?
Sam: I'll pass.
Dean: Oh, come on. Convince me, Sam!
Sam: *shrugs* Not that big on tattoos.
Dean: *hopefully* You could convince me to do something else.
Sam: Nothing comes to mind.
Dean: Buzzkill.
Sam: What is the kinkiest thing you've ever wanted to do with/to Dean?Sam: I liked his idea about fucking in public. People always stare at Dean--
Dean: *smugly* They can't really help themselves.
Sam: --and I love the idea of just pushing him against the wall in a room full of people, all of them wishing like hell they could have him but knowing they can't, because he's mine.
Dean: *sarcastically, though his breathing has quickened a bit* I love when you play caveman.
Sam: I wanna fuck you hard, Dean. I wanna make it hurt. Make you take it until you think you can't anymore, until you think you'll die if I don't let you come. I want you whining and begging and so desperate you'd promise anything just to get my hand on your cock. And I want everyone to see you like that and know I did it to you. That I'm the only one in the world who gets to do that to you.
Dean: *whimpers*
Sam: *brightly* Actually I just want to have sex with the lights on.
Dean: *sputters* You--
Sam: I don't really go for that kink stuff. Delicate sensibilities and all.
Dean: I will kill you in your sleep.
Sam: Play your cards right, and someday maybe we can even have sex outside.
Dean: *bitterly* You're a cock-teasing bitch, Sammy.
Sam: *grinning* Only for you, baby.
hanasyoubu:
DTTE!Dean: Does it bother you that Sam is in fact bigger and taller than you? Has he ever taken advantage of that fact and manhandle you? Do you guys share clothes? What's your favourite piece of Sam's clothing?
DTTE!Sam: Does your greater height and weight compare to Dean give you advantages when you guys have a fight/disagreement? Have you ever been tempted to manhandle Dean when he's dead set to do something you don't want him to do? Do you guys share clothes? What's your favourite piece of Dean's clothing?Dean: You get one question. One.
Sam: I don't think that was actually spelled out.
Dean: *darkly* It was implied.
Sam: I think we're stuck.
Dean: Fine. No, he wishes, no, like I pay any attention to what he wears.
Sam: I borrow your shirts sometimes.
Dean: And you always stretch them out, because you're Andre the fucking giant.
Sam: Dean's a little sensitive about the height issue.
Dean: *scoffs* Like I'd want to be sixteen feet tall.
Sam: I don't have to manhandle Dean. I probably could--
Dean: In your dreams, freakboy.
Sam: --but it never comes to that. Usually I just look at him and he does whatever I want.
Dean: *gaping* Are you saying I'm whipped?
Sam: Sometimes I have to say "please"...
Dean: I'm not whipped.
Sam: *soothingly* Of course you're not.
Dean: *glares*
Sam: You've just never been very good at saying no to me, is all.
Dean: Just because I try to keep you happy so I don't have to listen to you bitch and moan all the time doesn't mean--
Sam: You've got that part down, anyway.
Dean: Listening to you bitch and moan?
Sam: Keeping me happy.
Dean: *groans loudly*
Sam: I don't think I have a favorite piece of clothing, though.
Dean: Thank christ for that.
mandy_padackles:
DTTE! Dean: Did you really have no idea that Cassie was hitting on you and Sam was outright jealous? I mean, c'mon, for someone so smooth with the ladies, it's kinda hard to believe.Sam: Wait, you didn't know?
Dean: Of course I knew. This is me -- she couldn't resist if she tried.
Sam: *delighted* You had no idea the whole thing was a set up, did you?
Dean: Please, it was obvious.
Sam: *laughing* God, Dean, that whole time I thought--
Dean: What?
Sam: *shaking head* Nothing.
Dean: I didn't know you were jealous, though. I forgot what an insecure little bitch you are.
Sam: The love of your life, who, by the way, looks like a fucking Playboy bunny, was throwing herself at your head, and you were licking it up. What was I supposed to think?
Dean: Maybe that there's nothing in the fucking world I want more than-- *breaks off abruptly*
Sam: Really?
Dean: I didn't say anything.
Sam: *grins* Yeah, you did.
Dean: Whatever, Sammy. I'm just saying you're a moron.
Sam: *softly* Yeah. I was.
Dean: Good thing I'm smart enough for both of us. *beat* Handsome, too.
Sam: *to Mandy* Ask your next question before he starts composing himself a sonnet.
DTTE! Sam: What's the most romantic thing Dean has ever done for you?Sam: *promptly* Giving me his amulet.
Dean: It was a loan.
Sam: You were planning to come back for it?
Dean: *says nothing, suddenly fascinated by the floor*
Sam: Dad gave it to him after his first kill, and I don't think he'd ever taken it off. *to Dean* I wore it the whole time you were gone.
Dean: It wasn't a gesture. It's a protection charm, it was just practical.
Sam: You left, and yeah, you're an idiot, but you left for me, because you thought it's what I needed, and you left me something that's almost a part of your skin...
Dean: It's just a necklace, Sam.
Sam: *softly* Not to you, it isn't.
Dean: Whatever, it wasn't romantic.
Sam: I think it was.
Dean: *with as much big-brother venom as he can muster, which, at the moment, isn't much* You would.
Sam: I don't... I don't know if I could have found you without it.
Dean: *small voice* Oh.
Sam: Yeah. *trying to smile, not quite managing it* Good thing you were practical, huh?
Dean: Sammy--
Sam: I missed you. God, I missed you. And it was all I had, it was the only way I could feel you, and if you hadn't left it we might never--
Dean: We did, though.
Sam: *blinking hard* Lucky for me you're a huge sap.
Dean: *barely audible* Lucky.
Sam: *swallowing* Can we--
Dean: *at the same time* I want--
Sam&Dean: *look at each other for a minute, then practically run from the room*
AND THEN THEY HAD LOTS OF REALLY HOT SEX THE END