For @wincestwednesdays Wincest Fest
7/24 Prompt: sunshine
_
tastes like sunshine
The road is smooth, and Baby purrs strong and steady under Dean’s hands as he drives. Dean glances over to the passenger seat for what feels like the millionth—billionth—time, finding his brother still beside him, sleeping peacefully; mouth open; his large hand holding his place in the book he fell asleep reading. Sun breaks through the clouds in the sky, and shines itself across Sam’s face like a caress, chin to cheek, becoming increasingly insistent. Sam scrunches his face, shying away from the light and its wakefulness. Sam is twelve and sixteen and twenty-two and twenty-nine and thirty-seven and timeless all at once, and Dean can’t stop staring.
Sam scrunches again, turning his face into the seat, poorly hiding the pink blooming in his cheeks and across his nose. Dean can’t help the adoring grin that stretches his cheeks.
“You’re gonna crash if you don’t look at the road soon,” Sam says, his voice thick with sleep and smothered affection.
“And what? We’re already dead, Sammy,” Dean quips.
Sam snorts softly. His soft, pink mouth spreads helplessly, white teeth peeking out between his lips. Dean reaches over—ruffles Sam’s hair, strokes his cheek where the sun caressed it—and Sam’s smile spreads, face alight and eyes aglow. And Dean wants—-
Sam’s lips are warm, and taste like sunshine when Dean covers them with his. Sam’s book slides to the floor as he reaches for Dean’s face, kissing him back. And it’s Heaven.
