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Sam massaged his sodden hair with one of the bunker’s ample supply of soft fluffy towels, before winding it around his head turban-style.
He knew he should keep it short as befits the hunting life he led. Having claws, hooks, or fangs entangled in one’s hair was painful, to say the least. However, Sam was honest enough to admit to himself that there was probably a psychological aspect in play with keeping it long, though he never dwelled too much on that.
It was as if his thick, tousled tresses were an integral part of who he was. A detail which by itself was insignificant but when combined with all the other facets of his personality, made up Sam Winchester.As far back as he could remember, his bangs had flopped around his face, affording him a feeble protection, a curtain for his eyes to hide behind when he didn’t want to expose the emotions showing within.He shook off the memories and made his way to the kitchen where he knew Dean would blurt out the self-same range of comments he always did when Sam appeared with his towel-wrapped head...ranging from...' You’re totally worth it, Sammy’ to ‘Did you manage to balsam your hair into submission, or did it win?’
Sam would sigh and completely ignore him, no longer even bothering with a bitch-face.
This time was no different.
After having shrugged off his sibling’s comments, Sam took a seat at the table, coffee in hand. ‘You don’t hear me griping about the barrowloads of gel you slap on your hair to keep it up and spiky, Dean!’‘Dude, you gonna equate my manly hair to your Disney princess tresses? Really?’
A bitch-face finally made its appearance on the younger man’s features. ‘You know what, Dean? I might just take a trip to the barber's and get that marine crew-cut dad always wanted me to have. Just to shut you up.’Rising from his chair, Dean circled the table and unwound the towel, allowing his brother’s hair to fall free. ‘No, you won’t, Sam. Because I won’t let you.’ He ran his fingers through the almost dry chestnut mane, massaging Sam’s scalp with slow, soothing strokes. ‘You won’t let me? Dude, my hair’s my own. If I want to cut it, I will,' Sam huffed while simultaneously purring internally at his brother's caresses.
‘That’s where you’re wrong, Sammy. Every bit of you, from each hair follicle to each toenail, belongs to me, just as there’s not a cell in my body that isn’t yours. ‘For a moment, Sam was quiet, digesting the words Dean had uttered. ‘So, all that cockiness and badassery you show when we’re on the job is just a cover for your girlie, soft heart,’ he finally teased.’ Nope! Just two sides of the same coin, the Dean Winchester who makes monsters crap their pants and the one that's as sappy as fuck when it comes to you.’
He bent down to capture Sam’s lips and proceeded to bestow on him a kiss of unbearable sweetness.‘See I’m just a guy who's in love with his brother. And his floppy, princess hair!’The End