When Sam woke up the next morning, he found his father already awake, sitting by the table and sipping coffee.

"Morning," Sam said sleepily as he made his way out of his bed.

"Morning, son," John smiled at him.

"Dad, I haven't seen you smile this much in like, ever," Sam shook his head slightly. "It kinda creeps me out," he admitted.

"Want to freak out even more?" John asked with a grin. "Ask me what I was thinking about," he added, when Sam raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Well, what?"

"I was seriously considering getting a witch to curse both Dean and you to turn back into kids. Without any chance of getting back, except for growing up naturally."

"Dad?" Sam was honestly taken aback. It crossed his mind that maybe he wasn't even talking to his real father.

"I would do so many things differently. This time with Dean... God, he was such a sweet, little kid. There's a lot of Mary in him. And you, you were always so hopeful about everything," John turned his head towards Sam and the youngest Winchester was surprised to find tears in his father's eyes. "I'm sorry I ruined that for you. I'm so sorry."

"Dad, I-" Sam struggled to find words, because this was everything he'd ever wanted to hear from his dad and now, that he had, he didn't know what to do.

He was interrupted by a loud groan from Dean's bed. Dean was sitting in his bed with his hands squeezing his head, his face a mask of pain.

"Dean?" John stood up and was by his son's side in a second, followed by Sam.

"D-dad," Dean managed to say between his gritted teeth. "My head. It hurts. Aarrgh!" he shouted and curled on the bed.

Sam felt panic build inside him, so he hurried to find some painkillers and a glass of water, to keep himself busy. But John's hand stopped him from handing them to Dean. John nodded to Dean's chest. A soft light was coming out of it. Sam and John exchanged a meaningful look; the curse was wearing off.

"Hold on to me, kid," John said and wrapped his arms around Dean's shaking body. "It's gonna be over soon. Just hold on, Dean."

Dean was digging into the flesh on his dad's back so hard, it had to hurt, but John didn't show any sign of discomfort. He just kept talking to Dean in soothing voice. Sam's heart was breaking, seeing his brother in so much pain, but there was nothing he could do. The light kept getting stronger, until Sam couldn't see anymore, and when it finally faded and Sam blinked, his father was holding a very grown-up and very naked Dean.

"Holy shit, my head hurts like a bitch," Dean complained groggily, as he untangled himself from his father's hold. "Must have been some party; I can't remember-" then he stopped talking, when he finally opened his eyes and focused on the person in front of him. "Dad?" he asked incredulously. Then he noticed the state he was in and quickly grabbed the blanket to cover his manly parts.

"Hi Dean," John grinned. "Thanks for the effort, but seriously, the joy of seeing you beats the horror of seeing you naked. Not like I've never seen you naked before," he laughed as he stood up.

"That's what she said," Dean said automatically.

"Eww, dad," Sam pulled a face. "Stop talking about naked Dean or I'm gonna tell you about my latest poop!" he tried to sound disgusted, but in reality, he was just trying to change the topic, because his dick seemed too interested in this one.

"That wouldn't be the first time, either. God, did you love talking about your poop!" John exclaimed.

Dean laughed, but his face scrunched into pain immediately.

"I did not," Sam defended himself.

"Oh, did too. Blame that on Dean," he pointed at his elder son. "I still remember the day he pushed you into my bedroom, saying 'Dad, Sammy wants to tell you something' and there you stood with such a prideful look on your face, so I thought you did something amazing. And then you told me about the poop you had! God, I didn't know what to do," John laughed hard. "And your devil of a brother just stood there and laughed at the look on my face. Pretty much like now," he added.

And really, Dean was gasping for breath, tears of laughter running down his face. His face was red and if he wasn't laughing really loudly, Sam would have been scared he couldn't breathe.

"Jesus, I almost forgot that," Dean managed to say. "Your face, it was priceless."

When Dean finally opened his eyes, Sam saw the happy light in them for a moment and he smiled warmly at him.

"Well, I'm happy I could serve as the source of your amusement," he pretended to be offended. "How're you feeling, Dean? What do you remember?"

"I remember hunting the witch. She used some kind of a spell on me, I remember I couldn't move. She had a knife to my throat. I remember Sam being an idiot about it," he glared at his younger brother. "Then light and then dark. Until now. And I feel as though I had a queen of all hangovers, but it's getting better."

"I was just trying to save your life!" Sam said defensively.

Dean was taking a breath to answer that, but John was first.

"Well, I'm glad to see you are yourself again," he chuckled. "But I really think I should get going. I've postponed that hunt for long enough."

"You missed a hunt, because of us?" Dean's eyes widened in surprise.

"Call it a miracle," their dad replied, before he grabbed his stuff and walked to his truck. Sam followed him, and Dean joined them, once he found some clothes to wear.

"Take care of yourselves, boys," John said as he hugged both his sons. "And keep in touch."

Then he opened the driver's door, got in and with a honk, he drove off.

"Dude," Dean put his arm back down from waving their father off. "That was super weird. You sure, that was dad?" he turned his face to Sam.

"Uh huh, positive," Sam said.

"You wanna tell me, what happened, while I was out of it?"

"Later."

When he was sure, their dad couldn't see them anymore; he grabbed Dean's hand and dragged him back into their room.

"Sam, what the hell-," Dean was interrupted by Sam's mouth assaulting his, as soon as the motel door closed.

"Jesus, I missed you so much," Sam breathed out, when he finally broke their kiss off to breathe. "You have no idea," he said as he pushed Dean backwards on his bed.

"I bet you did," Dean grinned, helping Sam out of his clothes. "I'm a hot piece of ass, I'd miss me too," he added before kissing Sam.

"No," Sam pulled away a little. "I mean yes, you are," he corrected himself, when he saw Dean's mouth open to argue. "But that's not what this is about," he threw away his shirt and pressed against Dean's body.

"Oh, really," Dean snorted, but didn't push Sam away, instead his hands started working on his jeans.

"Okay, this, maybe. I mean, it's been days. And I missed this. But in the long run, it's more than just you being hot and willing, Dean." Sam stopped his ministrations to look into his brother's green eyes, trying to get the message through. "I love you, Dean. This is it for me. You are it for me," he stroked Dean's cheek with his thumb gently, before placing a soft kiss on his brother's full lips. "I need you to know that."

"I know, Sammy. I do," Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I am now," Sam kissed Dean again. "I love you, Dean. I never hated you. I wouldn't even think about it," he licked his way down Dean's neck. "Not in my worst nightmare. Always loved you." A nibble at Dean's collarbone. "And this Valentine's day, we're gonna do something girly. Like buying a heart, or a rose or a chocolate." A gentle stroke of his tongue over Dean's nipple. "And nobody's going to laugh at us."

He bent down to continue his oral exploration, when he felt Dean's hands roughly shoving him away.

"How do you know all that, Sam?" Dean looked at him with angry eyes. "What exactly happened, when I was cursed?"

"You were a kid, suddenly. You were like ten years old and you thought I was supposed to be six and dad should be around. So I couldn't tell you, who I really was. Not until dad got here. You wouldn't believe me. And...we talked and I-,"

"And you thought it would be a great idea to pry," Dean finished harshly and got out of the bed.

"That's not fair, Dean!"

"No? I would never do that to you! I wouldn't even think of poking around your childhood, even if I got the chance!" Dean yelled. This had obviously upset him.

"That's because you were my childhood, Dean! You were everything to me. You still are. I can't imagine taking a breath without you anymore. And I wanted to get to know you better. You keep all of these things hidden from me, and I hate it. You know, I hate it!"

"You had no right to do that," Dean wasn't facing him, he was looking out of the window, his shoulders were tense. "What else did you find out?"

That got Sam on his feet.

"What was there for me to find out?" he asked.

Dean didn't answer. Sam walked behind him and tried to wrap his arms around him, but Dean took a step forward to keep himself out of Sam's reach.

"Dean," Sam said softly and reached his hand out again to touch his brother's shoulder. He knew better than to let Dean's rejections scare him away.

When Dean turned around, his eyes were filled with tears. His instinct was to hug the older man, but Dean took a step further, again.

"Did you like what you saw, Sammy?" Dean spat out. "Are you happier now, that you know, that the brother you used to look up to, was nothing more than just another scared kid, constantly crying that nobody loved him enough? Tell me, are you here, because you love me," he made it sound as though it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Or because you pity me?" he gazed into Sam's eyes.

That almost knocked Sam's breath out of his lungs. Without thinking, he launched himself at Dean and pushed him backwards, until he had him pinned against the wall. When he looked into Dean's eyes again, he was still searching for the right words. Dean was looking up at him, sad and resigned. Two tears made their ways down Dean's cheeks. Sam cupped his brother's face and brushed them away gently. Then he kissed him, trying to pour all his love, adoration and all the feelings that came with it into it.

"Don't you ever say things like that about yourself again," he whispered against Dean's lips. "I never pitied you, not now, not then. I just wish you'd trust me more," he rested his forehead against Dean's.

"I trust you, Sam, you know I do," Dean whispered back. "But I just-," he was cut off by Sam's mouth on his.

"No buts," Sam said resolutely and started walking backwards, pulling Dean with him. When they fell on the mattress, Dean immediately crawled atop Sam and bent down to lick and suck on his neck.

"Wait," it took all Sam's self-control, but he pushed Dean off and flipped them. "You just sit back and relax," he kissed him softly. "I'm going to adore and cherish the crap out of you. You don't listen to me with your upper brain. So I'll try the downstairs one."

He kissed Dean again, licking at the seam of his lips, and when Dean had let him in, gently licking every inch of his brother's mouth with his tongue. His hands ran down Dean's arms, until he reached his hands and then twined their fingers.

He spent good five minutes just holding Dean in place, kissing him nice and slow. When he finally pulled away, Dean's face was flushed and his gorgeous, kiss swollen lips formed into a smile. A real smile. Sam smiled back at him. There was the light of pure happiness in Dean's eyes again. It wasn't all that rare to see it, but it definitely wasn't common. And now Sam realized, he had never seen it during sex. There was always love, affection and care in Dean's eyes. Sometimes possessiveness or anger, too. But never this sort of peaceful happiness. It seemed like the message got finally through to Dean.

"I love you, too, you know that?" Dean said in a husky voice.

"Of course you do," Sam said, nibbling at Dean's ear. "I'm the best little brother with benefits in the world," he whispered in it, before sucking Dean's earlobe into his mouth.

He let go of Dean's hands to touch and caress every inch of Dean's chest. He sucked a light bruise into Dean's neck and then bit his shoulders, just enough to leave marks.

"Mine," he murmured against Dean's skin.

He felt one of Dean's hands in his hair, while his other arm wrapped around his body.

"Yours," Dean agreed.

That earned him another loving kiss, before Sam moved lower, to nuzzle his face against Dean's lower abdomen, while massaging his thighs. Dean started squirming under him, just like Sam knew he would. He'd always been ticklish.

Dean frowned at him, when he chuckled.

"Not fair," he argued Sam's accusations of being a 'ticklish little girl'. "Flip us over and I'll show you, who the girl is."

"I'm so sorry," Sam said with a sly smile. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of Dean's boxers and pushed them down slowly. "Let me make it up to you."

Dean closed his eyes and his head fell back, when Sam's mouth closed over the head of his cock. Sam sucked lightly on it and then took his brother's cock in his mouth deeper, an inch at a time, until he couldn't anymore without the fear of choking. He used his hand on the rest of it and he started moving it up and down in the rhythm with his mouth.

Dean was trashing and moaning above him, fisting the sheets until his knuckles were white. Sam looked up at his brother, just in time to see the lust-blown, wide eyed gaze, barely any green in it, looking down at him. Sam starting humming around the thick shaft in his mouth and Dean's eyes rolled back.

"Sammy, I'm not gonna last," he groaned breathlessly, right before his hips buckled upwards involuntarily.

Sam pushed them down and licked along the vein, then hollowed his cheeks, as he sucked his brother off. He could feel Dean's balls tighten and he chose that exact moment to pull away with an obscene pop.

"Fucking tease," Dean all but sobbed in frustration.

"Now, now," Sam grinned at him, as he straddled his legs. "Such a bad language."

He reached into the nightstand for a small bottle of lube that he had to hide from his ten-year-old brother earlier. He poured a generous amount in his hand, rubbed his hands together and then grabbed Dean's hands, lubricating them thoroughly.

He bent down and kissed Dean, chuckling at the whimper his brother made, when he pulled away. He scooted up a bit, to straddle Dean's chest, letting him kiss a wet trail down to his stomach. He put his brother's lube coated hands on his ass, as he lifted off a bit to give him better access.

"What are you waiting for," he grinned down at him mischievously, when the older just stared at him in awe.

"I-I just," Dean shook his head. "Is this real? Are you real?"

"Oh, I am very much real," Sam smiled. "Now if you could get on with the program, both our cocks would appreciate it, I'm sure."

Dean chuckled and slipped one of his fingers inside Sam's tight hole, after he circled it a few times.

Sam moaned softly, and then harder, when Dean added another finger and started scissoring him.

"You look so gorgeous, getting so worked up on the top of me, just with my fingers inside you," Dean said huskily.

Instead of an answer, Sam slid down Dean's body and kissed him hard. Then he straightened back up and eased himself down on Dean's cock, slowly, but without stopping until Dean was balls deep in his brother's body. Sam loved the way Dean was trying to keep his eyes on him, but they rolled back as Sam sat down.

"How do you want it, big brother?" he asked as he bent down. "Slow and gentle," he sucked and licked at Dean's flesh, "or hard and rough?" he sank his teeth in.

"Oh god, you're killing me," Dean trying to control the bucking of his lips, but it couldn't really be helped. "Both," Dean let out breathlessly.

Sam grinned smugly and started to move up and down, at a slow, but steady pace. He let his hands roam freely over Dean's chest and stomach, loving the way they rippled and clenched with the building pleasure. He quickened the pace and started tilting his hips. Dean finally let go, just moaning and writhing underneath his brother. His hips bucked up against his brother's movements to get even deeper. His breaths were coming out shorter and shorter and Sam knew he was close.

Dean screamed in pleasure as hot spurts of white liquid shot inside Sam. He took it all, milking Dean of every drop. Then he lifted up enough for Dean's softening cock to pull out and slowly moved down to clean it off with his mouth. Then he pressed his body flush against Dean's, taking in the quick rise and fall of his brother's chest, as he was panting for breath.

Dean was lying down with his arm over his eyes. Sam gently grabbed the hand and pushed it away, to take a look at his sated brother's face. Dean's face was flushed, his eyes closed and his hair standing up in all directions. Sam brushed his lips against his forehead.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, before he kissed Dean, letting the taste of Dean's cum be washed away by the taste of Dean's mouth. Neither very unpleasant, as far as Sam was concerned.

The kiss was heating up and getting fiercer, as Sam got closer to his own release, rutting his hips against Dean's leg.

Dean drew his mouth away to whisper in his brother's ear and Sam came all over his leg with his brother's voice whispering 'I love you so fucking much' to him.

He picked up a piece of discarded clothing, not even bothering to check what or whose it was, and wiped Dean's leg clean, then he threw it on the was lying down with his arm over his eyes. Sam gently grabbed the hand and pushed it away, to take a look at his sated brother's face. Dean's face was flushed, his eyes closed and his hair standing up in all directions. Sam brushed his lips against his forehead.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, before he kissed Dean, letting the taste of Dean's cum be washed away by the taste of Dean's mouth. Neither very unpleasant, as far as Sam was concerned.

The kiss was heating up and getting fiercer, as Sam got closer to his own release, rutting his hips against Dean's leg.

Dean drew his mouth away to whisper in his brother's ear and Sam came inside his boxer with his brother's voice whispering 'I love you so fucking much' to him.

After that, he just snuggled against Dean's side, pressing his face in the crook of Dean's neck. He threw his leg and arm around him possessively.

"Why do they have to make the beds so small," Dean grunted.

Sam smiled at that. It was Dean's way of making an excuse for cuddling with his brother.

Blindly, he reached for the older man's hand and squeezed it gently.

"G'night, Dean," he muttered.

"Night, Sammy," he heard Dean answer without letting go of Sam's hand.

Determined to make his brother feel loved and cared for like this, for the rest of their lives, Sam fell asleep.

He dreamed of Dean with grey hair, sitting on a terrace, drinking beer and reading newspaper. He would never tell Dean about it, but he would try his damnest to make this dream come true one day.

The End

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