Sooo it started snowing where I live. And coincidentally enough I happen to have started Supernatural! Soooo… yeah I kinda had to do this fic. I love this duo so much, I love them. I wanted to do a fic of the brothers just being brothers.
Warnings: None aside from tickling, so if that’s not your cup of tea just keep scrolling. ALSO this is not a ship at all, it is entirely platonic and brotherly (they’re brothers), so if you are a “shipper” then please get tf out. Thanks.
Summery: Sam wants to experience the nostalgia he had towards snow when he woke up to a winter wonderland one cold winter morning. Dean of course is annoyed and doesn’t want to be childish, but Sam will convince Dean to enjoy it with him.
The sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating the battered and cheap motel room. The older Winchester, Dean, groaned as he rolled over in the creaky bed, trying to block the light with a pillow. He was not a morning person, especially not the morning after a grueling hunt. Every muscle in his body ached from the fight they’d barely survived the night before.
On the other side of the room, the younger Winchester, Sam, was already up, sitting at the small table with his laptop. Typical. Dean could hear the soft tap of keys, but something about the atmosphere felt... different.
Dean cracked one eye open, prepared to grumble something sarcastic, when he noticed Sam staring out the window, a rare, boyish smile spreading across his face.
“What’re you grinning at, Sasquatch?” Dean muttered, his voice gravelly with sleep.
Sam turned to him, eyes alight with something Dean hadn’t seen in a while. Pure, unfiltered joy. “Look outside, Dean.”
Dean groaned, reluctantly sitting up. His joints protested the movement as he shuffled to the window. Pulling back the faded curtain, he blinked against the glare of pristine white. Snow. Thick, powdery snow blanketed the world outside.
“Well that’s just great,” Dean grumbled, unable to help thinking about his 1967 Chevy Impala. “Guess I’ll be digging Baby out all day.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re such a buzzkill, man. It’s beautiful out there. Don’t you remember how much fun we used to have in the snow when we were kids?”
Dean snorted, turning away from the window. “Yeah, fun. Like when you’d pack snow into icy death balls and aim for my head. Or when I had to dig you out of a snowdrift because you thought you could jump off the roof into it.”
Sam chuckled, unbothered by Dean’s grumbling. “Come on, you know you liked it. Just admit it.”
“I don’t like snow, Sam. Never did. It’s cold, wet, and got me sick more than enough times.” Dean said firmly, grabbing his flannel shirt from the chair. “Besides, we’re too old for that crap now.”
Sam folded his arms, his grin widening. “Too old? Really? Since when did you start sounding like an old man?”
Dean shot him a look but didn’t reply. He shuffled to the coffee maker, muttering about needing caffeine to deal with his annoying little brother.
But Sam wasn’t done. “Come on, Dean. Just for a little bit. Let’s go out there.”
Dean’s head whipped around. “No. End of discussion.”
“Why not? It’s just snow. You’re acting like it’s lava or something.”
“Because I don’t want to, that’s why.” Dean took a sip of his coffee as he sat down at the table, determined to ignore Sam.
But Sam wasn’t going to let it go. “You’re no fun anymore.”
“Never was.” Dean responded simply.
Sam leaned forward, an impish glint in his eyes. “Remember that time I nailed you with a snowball so hard you fell into Dad’s car and dented it?”
Dean’s lips twitched, but he refused to give Sam the satisfaction of a smile. “Yeah, and I also remember Dad making me shovel the entire driveway as punishment while you hid in the house like a little wimp.”
“I was ten,” Sam protested, laughing. “And you were way too dramatic about it.”
“Whatever.” Dean shook his head, but he could feel his resolve starting to crack.
Sam pushed his chair back and stood. “Come on, Dean. Just for a bit. We’ll stand in the snow, soak up the nostalgia, and come back inside. I promise.”
Dean sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Whatever. But we go back inside right after. I still need my energy to dig out baby.”
“Deal.” Sam said, grinning triumphantly.
Bundled up in their jackets, hats, and boots, the brothers stepped outside. The crisp, cold air hit Dean’s face, and he shivered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Sam, on the other hand, looked like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Man, it’s been forever since I’ve seen snow like this,” Sam said, gazing around. “Hey, remember when I’d beat you so many times at those snowball fights we’d have?”
Dean groaned. “Oh, here we go.”
Sam chuckled. “You’d always brag about how you could beat me, but I got you good more than a few times.”
“Please. I wiped the floor with you every single time.” Dean shot back.
Sam raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, is that so?”
Dean nodded confidently. “Damn straight.”
Without warning, Sam bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and hurled it at Dean. The snowball smacked him square in the chest, leaving a wet patch on his jacket.
“Son of a- Sam!” Dean exclaimed, glaring at his brother.
Sam grinned, already forming another snowball. “You said you were the best. Prove it.”
Dean hesitated for a moment, torn between annoyance and the undeniable urge to retaliate. Finally, he bent down, grabbed some snow, and lobbed it at Sam, hitting him on the shoulder.
“Oh, it’s on now,” Sam declared, laughing as he ducked behind a tree.
The snowball fight escalated quickly. Dean darted behind the Impala, using it as cover, while Sam ran circles around the motel’s small yard. Snowballs flew back and forth, laughter echoing in the cold air.
“You’re getting slow, old man!” Sam taunted.
“Keep talking Gigantor!” Dean shouted back, hurling a snowball that narrowly missed Sam’s head.
Eventually, Dean got the upper hand. Spotting an opening, he charged at Sam, tackling him into a snowbank. Sam yelped as the cold seeped through his layers.
“Dean! It’s freezing!” Sam protested, trying to wiggle free.
Dean smirked, sitting on Sam’s legs to pin him down. “Oh, that’s too bad… my hands are cold.”
Sam’s eyes widened in panic. “Don’t you dare.”
But Dean was already shoving his icy hands under Sam’s jacket and sweater, pressing them against his warm sides.
“Dehehehean! Stohohop!” Sam squealed, writhing as Dean’s cold hands sent jolts of sensation through him. “It’s sohoho cohohold!”
Dean laughed, thoroughly enjoying his brother’s misery. “What’s the matter, Sammy? Can’t handle a little cold?”
“Plehehehease nohoho!” Sam gasped through his laughter, squirming violently as he tried pulling his brothers hands out.
“Oh, I just remembered something else I used to do to you,” Dean said, his grin turning mischievous.
Sam froze. “Nohoho! Dehehehean, don’t!”
Too late. Dean’s fingers started to wiggle against Sam’s sides, this time tickling him mercilessly. Sam burst into uncontrollable laughter, his voice breaking into high-pitched squeals.
“AHahaha noHOhOho plehehease!” Sam flailed, his arms uselessly batting at Dean’s shoulders. “Dehehean, I cahahan’t!”
“Dude, you’re way too ticklish for a grown ass man.” Dean teased, his hands moving to Sam’s ribs, then his stomach, finding every spot that made Sam jerk and shriek. “This is even better than I remember.”
“AHaha noHOhOHOt tHEhEhEhre! Stahahahap!” Sam howled through the cold air, his face red from laughter and the cold.
Dean, grinning like a madman, didn’t let up. He moved his fingers up to Sam’s armpits, and Sam practically lost it, twisting and bucking to try and escape.
“DEHEHEAN! PLEHEHAHAHSE NOHOHO MOHOHOHRE!” Sam’s laughter was broken and desperate, but Dean couldn’t stop laughing himself. He had all too many memories when Sam would completely lose it from being tickled. He was still way too ticklish for his own good, but Dean was glad that some things about Sam just never changed.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Sam, Dean relented, collapsing into the snow beside his brother. Sam was left gasping, his face flushed and tears of laughter watering his eyes.
Dean smirked at him. “You are still such a baby, Sammy.”
Sam shot him a glare but couldn’t hide the reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the worst.”
“Yeah, but you love me, dontcha?” Dean grinned, nudging him playfully.
As the snow fell softly around them, the two brothers lay side by side, laughing and catching their breath, letting the cold and the moment wash over them. Maybe the cold and snow wasn’t so bad to Dean after all.
