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Dean, hands gripping Sam’s waist, smiling up at his baby brother who’s gotten so much taller since leaving, finally hitting proper height, thumbs pressed into the divots of his hips, rubbing little circles into flesh. Sam, staring down at Dean with flushed cheeks and gentle eyes, taking in Dean’s freckles and the cut on his lip, how much he’s changed, pressing their chests together to feel his steady heartbeat while his own hands settle just above his ass, barely keeping decent.
And Jess, watching from the doorway in something between horror and shock as Sam opens his mouth and professes — “babe, this is my brother, Dean.”