(no subject)

[elinorwise]

They lie there in the dark, golden-brown dawn. In the room next door it sounds like the demons are watching a horror movie; Sam hopes to God it's just a movie they're watching. He guesses it's maybe another hour or so before the angels start singing.
He brushes his lips against the nape of Dean's neck, just above where the column of his spine seems to begin. "Hey," he says. "When we get married, don't divorce me afterwards."
"Who'd be crazy enough to try divorcing the King of Hell anyway?" Dean says, even as he grips the hand Sam's got resting on his belly a little tighter. The pad of his thumb flickers over Sam's pulse briefly, before he says, "But you suffocating me would be one reason for me to go all Tammy Wynette on your ass. C'mon, man, lemme go."
"Stop squirming," Sam says. "I'm tryn'a sleep here."
"I'm pissing in the bathroom or I'm pissing on you, but I'm pissing in the next five seconds. Your choice."
Sam lets him free instantly, grimacing in disgust. "Oh, dude, gross!"
Dean chuckles and stumbles to the bathroom. Sam stretches out over the warm sheets, his body aching in a good way. He listens to the shower start up and smiles because he's really pretty sure it's a 'life is good' shower, and not an 'emo, hiding out 'til things get better' shower. And Sam is responsible for it. Sam is awesome.

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