Dean had very little self-control. It wasn’t the world’s best-kept secret. In fact, if you asked anyone who had the opportunity to meet him, they would tell you the same. Dean had very little self-control. You could hardly see Dean and self-control in a sentence, unless stated in the negative form.

Like, Dean doesn’t have a whole lot of self-control.

Anyway, you got the point.

Therefore, it didn’t take much of self-persuasion for him to finally yell the word ‘NNOOO!!!’ as loud as he could, in the middle of the night, while Sam lay asleep on the sofa next to him.

Dean knew he would get an immediate reaction from his brother. He knew Sam would be so pissed at him he might probably not talk to him throughout their ride to yet another mission in yet another town, hopefully closing their gap to finding their father.

Who was still out there, somewhere.

Playing the insufferable, lone ranger.

Sending them coordinates when he felt like it via text messages because apparently, John Winchester only communicated via Longitude and Latitude. At least that’s what I think they’re called. Anyway, let’s not mind much about this writer’s lack of…geographical terms for now.

Now, John Winchester is a very complicated man. Compared to his sons Dean and Sam, he is another story altogether.

Which is why you won’t really hear much about him in this one.

So, we’ll get back to the original point, which is, Dean knew Sam would be pissed at him for purposely waking him up in the middle of the night with his tarzanish yelling.
But does Dean really cares? Nope, he doesn’t. That’s the whole point really, to piss Sam off.

Because that’s what older brothers do, they piss little brothers off.

Dean figured he didn’t want to disappoint.

Dean put on a frown, his eyes fixed on the television screen as if all his concentration was dedicated to that tiny box and pretended he wasn’t affected by Sam’s sudden jerk to alertness.

The younger Winchester was wide-eyed, panicky and his arms were groping for something in front of him. Cold sweat covered his topless body, his heart beating like a drum being possessed by the ghost of an ex drummer who used to be in a rock band. His hair was sticking in all different directions; his lips were swollen and red…

Okay, so he was panicking and looking very sexy while doing it.

“What! What! Dean?”

It really was comical.

Not for Sammy though. Waking up thinking your heart was going to explode didn’t sound comical to him.
Now, waking up in nothing but your boxers thinking your heart was going to explode…well, still wasn’t comical, at all.

The only reason why Dean wasn’t laughing was because in his attempt to pretend to concentrate on whatever was on TV, his line of vision didn’t catch this comical look. It is always best for Dean to not look at the victims of his pranks while the prank is still going because, let’s hear it, Dean has very little self-control.

Yup, he would have laughed had he seen that.

Dean raised an eyebrow, because that’s what Dean does when he wanted to look innocent, or hot, depending on the receiver of the eyebrow-raising incident. It was safe to say, Dean wasn’t trying to look hot for his own brother. That would be for another story altogether.

A whole new genre even.

Now this story has none of that, so Dean really was putting on his poker face.

No really, if you’re looking for some incest/slash type story, this isn’t it.

“What?”

Sam was looking at Dean and then to the television set and back at Dean and then to the television. He did this a couple of times more and Dean couldn’t help thinking that this would probably be how Sam would look like should he go watch a tennis match.

Except Sam also had his mouth opened and closed a few times and no words was coming out.

Dean figured that’s how Sam would look like should he turned into a goldfish circling in his bowl aquatic house.

“Oooh, did you get another one of those psychic vision shinning stuff?” Dean asked, almost jumping up and down on his seat.

“What?” Sam asked, confused. For a genius, Sam surely took his time to remember what just happened five seconds ago. “No! I didn’t have that…stuff.”

“So why are you gaping like a newborn goldfish?”

“What?”

“Are you capable of saying anything other than ‘what’?”

“Huh?”

“Okay, we’re going somewhere,” Dean said, looking genuinely interested as he pulled at his non-existence goatee. “Now, can you try a sentence? Preferably in English?”

Sam shook his head, like a puppy after a nice swim and was trying to dry itself. “Why were you yelling Dean?”
“Why was I…” *insert ‘ ooooohhh I get it!’ look here* “Oh, dude…sorry bro, it was Snuggles.”

“Snug…snuggles?…the teddy…snug…Damn it Dean!” Sam exclaimed, obviously pissed. “You scared me half to death over that!”

Dean was thinking that his brother might have, unconsciously, made up a slogan for him.

Damn it Dean.

DID for short.

I’m Damn It Dean, ghost hunter extraordinaire, eat salt and burn bitch!

“What? Don’t tell me that creepy teddy bear never…well, creeps you out?”

“Oh it creeps me out all right. You made sure of that.”

That brought Dean back to their childhood. Living in yet another motel, left alone while dad went off to yet another hunting mission. They were watching the cartoon network when Snuggles the teddy bear appeared, snuggling himself in some soft looking towels. He had told the four year old Sammy that Snuggles loves to eat children, that’s why he turned himself into a teddy bear, because kids are supposed to love cute teddy bears.

“Well then I guess my yelling is justified.”

“Not when you’re twenty six.”

“Age has nothing to do with it.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tell everyone you’re afraid of a fabric softener teddy bear called Snuggles?”

Dean wasn’t expecting this turn around of event. “Go back to sleep Sammy.”

Sam smirked.

Dean was upset because Sam wasn’t upset with Dean calling him Sammy, which means, Sam was gloating at the fact that he got Dean stumped.

“No thanks to you, I’m too wide awake to go back to sleep.”

Dean shrugged and started to randomly surf channels.
“Guess you’re stuck with late night shows then.”

Sam stretched his long limbs and let out a stifled yawn. Dean couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the sight of his baby brother. He knew it was a bad thing to do, but he really was bored and lonely and stuck with sudden attack of insomnia. And if there was one thing he hated the most (other than Snuggles, that is), it was being alone without really being alone.

And Dean would rather be caught making out with a hot demon than waking his brother up and telling him he wanted company on a late demonless Wednesday night.

So he yelled.

He couldn’t help it; after all, Dean really had little self-control.

And Sam was just too easy.

“Worst, I’m stuck with you.”

He reached out and for once, Sam was too slow to escape him and his outstretched arm. He ruffled Sam’s hair and grinned.

“Bitch.”

"Jerk."