Title: Subtle Isn't Exactly My Forte
Pairing: Dean Winchester/ Sam Winchester
Rating: M-15+
Warnings: Nothing too hot and heavy, but Wincest all the same.
Word Count: Approximately 1000.
Summary: It wasn't the first time Dean had noticed the file on the computer. He'd never really thought much of it. That was, until it seemed to mysteriously appear on every laptop Sam had ever owned. "I'm pretty sure saving that link on the desktop over 5 times wasn't exactly subtle, you know?"

"And you thought sitting there staring at my naked torso every time I get out of the shower was a more appropriate solution?"

Wincest.

Disclaimer:Supernatural isn't mine.

Reviews and comments are thoroughly appreciated!

Enjoy C:

xXx

It wasn't the first time Dean had noticed the file on the computer. He'd never really thought much of it. After all, it was titled 'Stanford application essay' and Dean had never been one to take interest in long, thousand word articles that dragged on about pointless stories possibly written in the 19th century. Even though this one clearly was not going to ramble on about an-all-time famous must read literature, it still didn't quite take his interest.

That was, until it seemed to mysteriously appear on every laptop Sam had ever owned.

Admittedly, it had taken a while for Dean to notice. Sam had always taken it upon himself to do the research while on a hunt. Deans main talents on the computer consisted of finding the best free porn the internet could offer -which was entertaining to him on a variety of levels- but didn't necessarily go down well when searching up information on violent deaths and folk-law.

Not to say that Dean did not enjoy that capability, it just did not get the necessary jobs done.

This was the main reason as to why it was Sam's laptop and not Dean's.

However when Dean did go on it, the file was always there, saved on the desktop or among a bunch of different case files.

It's not like they didn't go though many laptops either. They broke during hunts or left them behind after leaving the motel in a hurry. So really, it was practically a miracle that this one particular file had managed to survive years of technological abuse.

So finally, Dean had decided that it was about time to look at this oh-so-precious file that Sammy felt the need to keep with him every waking day of his life, because it is not as if Sam keeps things for the hell of it.

But it wasn't really anything Dean had ever expected.

xXx

Sam knows his brother well. It came in handy on hunts; they were practically synchronised most of the time. They had spent the majority of their lives together and so, it was obvious to Sam when something was up with Dean.

As obvious as watching his older brother grip tightly on the steering wheel, as if it might fall off. His jaw plastered in the light grimace as they drove across the semi-deserted freeway towards the next suspected hunt.

Sam's voice was the first to break through the Chevys engine rumble. "Man, just say it already."

Dean turns towards him, one eyebrow lifted higher than the other a light smirk gracing his face. "Something wrong, Sasquatch?"

Sam chucks a bitch-face in Dean's direction. "I dunno, jerk-off, is there?"

Dean readjusts in his seat, eyes focusing back on the road and gripping the steering wheel just that little bit more. "Nothing a little Led Zeppelin can't fix."

Sam watches with worried eyes as Dean reached over and turned the cassette player on, cranking up the volume ending all forms of discussion there.

xXx

Two cases and three weeks later was when Dean finally cracked.

Sam ran a tanned hand though his hair placing himself next to Dean on the bonnet of the Impala, open beer in hand. "Why didn't you go for her? She seemed pretty interested."

Dean took a swing from his half-empty beer. "Wasn't my type, Sammy."

Sam laughs lightly, because that's not true. She was exactly his type "Come on, we both know anything with boobs and an ass is you're type Dean."

"Nah, not this time."

Sam adjusts himself on the bonnet, leaning back so his elbows keep him upright, face directly looking towards Dean.

"You saved her kids life man; she was worshiping the ground you walked on. I'm pretty sure the word 'hero' was mentioned more than once-"

"Jesus Christ, Sammy! Would you cut the crap already?" Dean exclaims, a hand landing roughly on the boot, shoulders suddenly reared with anger.

Sam's not exactly sure why but Deans been an edgy trigger for weeks and there has to be a reason, because there's alwaysa reason.

"What's wrong man, it's like you can't stand that she was grateful for you saving her son-"

Dean faces him, eyes angry and aggressive and Sam honestly thinks his about to take a swing at him. "Dammit Sammy! Quit saying that. I'm not saving the day. I'm doing my job. I'm not some fucking hero so quit implying that."

Dean's voice is uncharacteristically quiet towards the end, and it's then that Sam knows something is really wrong.

"Dean…"

Sam doesn't quite know what to say, because Deans looking straight at him, with torn expressions and it's so hard to comprehend words when he looks like that.

"I'm just…I'm not. So don't think it."

Then it clicks, like the final missing piece of the puzzle and Sam knows exactly what Dean means. "You read it?"

"And it's not true."

Then Sam laughs. An honest laugh that fills the air and seems like it might never end. Its relief. The most relief Sam has felt in a while.

"You're a freaking idiot Dean, this whole time I was worried. I thought- JesusI don't know what I thought! You just- and now it turns out you're upset about my application essay?"

Dean looks away and doesn't reply.

"Why?"

He stands up taking one-step away from the car and veers towards the driver's seat. "I think it's time for this chick-flick moment to be over-"

Suddenly Sam's arm is on him, whirling him around with the pure strength of a well-trained hunter.

"Dean?"

"Jesus Sammy, I just don't, okay?"

"Don't what?"

"Deserve to be your fucking Hero!"

Sam's grip increases tenfold and suddenly Deans pinned against the car with all the younger Winchesters strength.

"Bullshit."

And then Sam bends down, his lips pushing against Dean's, rough and hard. It only takes a second before it's over and Sam takes a step back, catching his breath.

"Yeah, you kind of do."

Sam's voice is small and breathless and Dean believes every word of it.

Dean struggles for words. "You never said…"

"I'm pretty sure saving that link among on the desktop over 5 times wasn't exactly subtle, you know?"

A smile is plastered on Sam's face and Dean thinks it must be contagious because his pretty sure his smiling too.

"Come on, how many times do I even touch the computer? That's you're thing."

"I left it open, on the desktop, every singleday for the past two months. Remind me again how you're a hunter."

"At least I don't confessing my feelings though a corny 'Stanford University Application'."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "And you thought sitting there and staring at my naked torso every time I get out of the shower was a more appropriate solution?"

"Bitch."

Sam's in front of Dean again, pushing him against the car for a second time, hands wondering across his stomach in hurried touches. Almost as if his asking a question to that very statement.

Dean responds, hands in Sammy's hair, tongues sliding across one another and thrusting in fierce movements, pure adrenaline coursing through their veins as though they can't get enough of each other.

It's new and amazing and pretty much everything the both of them had hoped for.

"You're still never going to live this down, Sammy."

"Just continue to stare at my chest and you won't have to think about it."

Dean's positive he'll take up that offer.

xXx

His my hero, my soul mate and I know he'd die for me.

xXx