И это тоже чудесный фик - про ДР Сэма (который уже совсем скоро, кстати ) - Worth Fifteen of Mine
Sam pursed his lips, came over to Dean with the jeans still in hand, clad in only his boxers. Dean turned, hand sliding around Sam’s neck, under his wet hair, and then they were kissing. It was slow and easy, and Dean tasted like coffee. Sam was so startled, his mouth came open and that’s all it took for him to find Dean’s tongue in his mouth at half past eight a.m., sunlight filling the room. No matter that Dean rarely kissed Sam when they weren’t horizontal or when it wasn’t closer to half-past midnight. It seemed Dean had changed his mind on that front and Sam was just not in the mood to complain.
Очень-очень трогательно Люблю таких авторов )))))