Dean could pinpoint only two other events that gave the same level of satisfaction as pulling up to a motel when you are bordering between exhaustion and an unconscious state. Apple pie on an empty stomach and sex. Mm.
"Dean?" Sam poked at his brother with an index finger, "You might want to hold off falling asleep until we're at least inside."
Dean nodded, stretching his arms above his head and pulling the keys from the ignition. "Man, am I beat."
"Me too." Sam agreed with a soft sigh, climbing out of the car that had seen far too many miles over the past week. "Good job we came across this place when we did. You were hardly even awake."
"I trust my instincts."
Sam scoffed and didn't wait for his brother before pushing open the reception door and hearing the bell above.
A man was slouched behind the counter seemingly as tired as they were.
"How can I help ya?" He spoke monotone, looking up from a book.
"I'm looking for a room. Twin."
The man closed his eyes briefly and then shook his head. "Only got a single left I'm 'fraid."
Sam's stomach dropped slightly, but before his brother could catch wind of the issue, he smiled. "We'll make do."
With Dean carrying the two duffle bags over one shoulder, Sam fumbled with the keys to open the door of room 17.
As he pushed open the creaky slab of wood, he grimaced inwardly at the ridiculously tiny space and one equally tiny bed in the corner.
"Sam?" Dean raised an eyebrow as he too took in the sight. "Did you get the wrong key again?"
"Only room he had." Sam sighed, stepping forward and turning to face Dean with a shrug.
"Dude." Dean rolled his eyes, "In case you haven't noticed lately, you are like ten feet tall and I'm not exactly petite."
"I'll sleep on the floor." Sam spoke as he bent down to pull off his trainers. "No biggie."
Dean took a deep intake of breath and dropped the two bags down at the foot of the bed. "We could've gone a few more miles."
"You know you wouldn't have made it to another motel."
"I would have let you take the wheel, Sam."
"I'm just as tired as you are. This is cool. We'll deal."
Dean eyed the bed, the pillow, duvet cover and mattress and knew it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than the floor. He wanted to just let Sam take the short straw, but considering the crappy sleep he knew his brother had last night crunched up in the back of the Impala, he figured being honourable was fair enough.
"You take it." Dean spoke whilst extending his arms out to the bed. "This floor looks particularly comfortable." He bent down as if scrutinising the carpet and ran a finger across the dark material. "See, no dust mites."
Sam pulled back from Dean's extended finger and chuckled. "Yeah. We need to sleep. You sure the floor's OK?"
"Just get in the bed before I change my mind."
So the other guy smiled gratefully and tossed his jacket across the two duffle bags as he sat down with a squeak.
"The mattress isn't great." He spoke pointedly as if that would be any consolation. "The pillow's lumpy."
"You will be lumpy if you don't shut up and sleep." Dean retorted childishly. "'Night, Sam."
As his brother began to settle, Dean folded the discarded jacket into a small square and used it to prop his head up with. He left his clothes on, boots included, knowing that motel rooms were notoriously freezing after midnight.
The bed frame squeaked again as Sam tucked himself under the blanket and turned himself over onto his left side. Sam was thankful. Dean was never usually so generous.
As per his expectations, the floor was dreadful. It caused his back to ache when he lay down flat and when he turned onto either side or stomach, it caused an old injury to protest the position. Twelve days ago he'd took a particularly nasty hit to the ribs and he had assumed at the time, obviously with no real medical diagnosis, that he must have cracked a rib. It hadn't given him too much grief since, but this was causing a deep ache no matter what the position. He rolled the jacket up, pressed it against his side and alas, for ten minutes it felt good.
After the eleventh minute he was aching again.
Unsure as to whether Sam had managed to fall asleep yet, Dean pulled himself up and sat cross- legged with his back against the bed. He'd slept in the Impala plenty of times so this position should be golden.
Within ten minutes his ass was numb.
"Damn it." He hissed under his breath, shifting a little to dissipate the pins and needles.
Considering Dean was almost asleep in the car, it was difficult to figure how now in a silent motel room he was finding it impossible to close his eyes and drift away. The longer he sat awake considering various positions to push his body into, the more he kept wishing he was in that damn bed.
Sam's breathing had altered, a sure indication that he had found the resolve of sleep. This only seemed to fuel's Dean's annoyance and desire to sit on a soft surface.
He lay back down again just in case, but as he turned to the right his sore rib jabbed him in the side and he was forced to retire.
"Fucking motels..." He mumbled again under his breath before taking the decision to pull himself up to his feet.
He yanked his boots off and left him at the foot of the bed next to Sam's.
"Sammy." He spoke softly, nudging the lump under the blanket. "Move your legs."
Sam didn't wake up straight away, but as he swam through the haze of REM sleep his eyes opened slowly.
"'Sup?" He mumbled, one eye opening further than the other to look up.
"Move over." Dean spoke again, "Can't sleep on that floor."
"Y'want me to take it?" Sam spoke, voice still quiet. "I don't mind."
Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, Sammy. You wouldn't sleep either. I'll just squeeze in"
So Sam straightened his legs, feet dropping off the edge, and pushed himself against the wall to make as much room as possible.
Dean scooted himself under the blanket, his body next to Sam's legs and feet touching the headboard.
"You made it cold." Sam mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Sorry. Just go back to sleep."
"Mm." Sam nodded, closing his eyes. "I forgot about your ribs. Shouldn't have let you take the floor."
Dean quirked an eyebrow. He didn't even remember telling Sam that he'd been hurt.
"Y'didn't tell me but I can always tell."
"Go to sleep, Sam." Dean smiled softly, "Night."
Sam must have slipped back to sleep because he didn't answer, but Dean didn't care as he could feel himself joining the party.
Dean figured that he should really be opposed to sharing a bed with his brother, but strangely? Strangely it didn't bother him. It was just like old times.