#spnwincest

Last night Dean had been bleeding out on the backseat, now he looked like he was ready for a leisurely stroll through some garden. Not a hint of a mark on him, except for the faint bite marks that Sam could see peeking out from under his shirt collar. 

“Bobby called again,” Sam picked up the bag and opened it. 

He ate two and handed the bag back to Dean. 

“We can’t tell him,” Dean shoved a donut into his mouth, white powdered sugar dusting his lap. The impala’s engine sputtered a few times, before coming to life and Dean pulled out of the lot. “We’ll just, find some nice quiet spot, pull over, and-” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Sam looked at Dean. 

“Sam-” 

“No. I’m not going to put a fucking bullet in you Dean.” 

“Then don’t, I’ll do it myself,” Dean said. 

“Like hell you will,” Sam replied. 

“Sam, Sam, what the fuck are you doing?” Dean nearly slammed on the brakes as Sam took off his seatbelt. 

A car swerved to avoid hitting them, their car horn echoed in their wake. Sam used the opportunity and jumped from the car. 

“Sam! Damn it Sam,” Dean called after him. 

Sam kept walking. 

“God damn it Sam!” Dean caught up to him and grabbed his arm. 

“I’m not going to kill you Dean!” Sam looked at his brother. 

“Well it’s not like I can run around, out of my freaking mind one night a month,” Dean countered. “You know as well as I do, it’s the only way.” 

“Really? Cause you didn’t have that mindset when we thought I got infected with the Croatoan virus,” Sam reminded him. “Or when the angels wanted to kill me because I was Lucifer’s vessel. So what makes this time different huh? Give me one good reason why this is different and I’ll load the bullets into the gun myself. Maybe you won’t even turn into a werewolf. We’ve got a month until the next full moon Dean. A month…we can do a lot in a month Dean. Maybe there’s stuff in Dad’s journal that we don’t know, or experts or something, but there’s got to be steps before eatting a fucking bullet Dean.” 

Dean opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay,” Dean nodded. 

He stepped closer to Sam when he was sure Sam wasn’t going to bolt again and brushed some of Sam’s hair back from his face. 

“We’ll do it your way Sammy.”

Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s jacket and with a tug pulled Dean in closer until he could rest his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and he could feel Dean’s solid weight against him. 

“But you have to have to swear to me,” Dean continued. “Swear that it…if we can’t find anything, and I got rogue…” 

Sam nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I swear Dean. I’ll do it.” 

Dean didn’t say anything, just carded his fingers through Sam’s hair.