It’s Just Touch
SPN, vaguely Wincesty
PG, 149 words



Sometimes, when Dean isn’t paying attention, Sam carefully sneaks a touch– a light brush across body-warm tee-shirt fabric as he leans of to get a look at the laptop’s screen, an easy shoulder nudge at the gas station – just because he can. That Dean lets him (Dean, who doesn’t let anyone get that close) that he comfortably allows him these little affections, even on an unconscious level, squeezes something in Sam’s chest, hot and tight and achy, and leaves him stupid and smiling.

Sometimes, Dean does catch these little touches, but always after the fact; there’s a way Sammy smiles, quick and soft, that tells him. But often he feels the sudden absence first; he’ll catch himself reaching for a fading mark of heat and pressure without ever having noticed the touch itself.

And really, that says everything.

(Honestly, it’s no wonder people keep mistaking them for a couple.)