Oh five hundred.
Dean slapped the alarm clock.
Well, fuck.
Dean groaned. His throat felt like he had eaten crushed glass last night and honestly he did not think that was the case. He curled over on himself, pulling the blanket across his body and shivered a bit. Eyes slitted, he leaned over the edge of the bed and spat into the trash can
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*pinches Sammy's cheeks* Best lil bro!
Then, tongue to the roof of his mouth he tasted smoke, whiskey and girl.
Fav line! This is a great lil fic!
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Yup, Sam loves his big brother.
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