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The first time Dean saw Sam take off his T-Shirt in a motel room after picking him up from Stanford, it took his breath away. When had that lanky teenager who seemed to balance on far too long legs filled out like this? When had Sam, who left the physically challenging live of a hunter for university, gained all that muscle? Than the realization hit him right in the stomach. Hard. He had thought he was over this and he better be, because he was going to loose Sam again and he barely survived that the first time. The older Winchester swallowed hard and deliberately turned his head away to put on some fresh clothes himself.Sam dared to turn his head to his brother when he heard Dean rummaging in his Duffle Bag. His mouth went dry immediately, his eyes following the long lines of Deans back, muscles bulging under his warm skin. Some scars, some old ones he knew back before he went to Stanford, and new ones spreading in irregular patters over the strong frame. Guilt swept through him, he thought he was over that. When he went to Stanford, he had left behind this… sick yearning. Longing for something he could never have. He thought about Jess and the guilt became worse. He´d better get used to that, because how should he forget it again after this was over?