Sam: Dean... c'mere.

Dean: Are you drunk?

Sam: ...yes. Yes I am. Yep. Drunk!

Dean (crossing downstage to the chair in which Sam is slumped): C'mon, Sasquatch. Let's get your clothes off and get you into the shower.

Sam: Only if you come too.

Dean: Damn. You ARE drunk.

Sam: Get YOUR clothes off. (Sam tears Dean's flannel shirt off his shoulders and tries to yank it off, but Dean's hands become tangled in the buttoned sleeves, trapping them at his sides.)

Sam:...ha-HAH. Now you're at...my fucking...mercy!

Dean: Dude. You're a funny drunk. (Sam raises his hands to Dean's face, and pulls Dean down. Dean stumbles and drops to his knees, hands still trapped in his shirt, falling forward between Sam's thighs.)

Sam: And you're fucking beautiful. You know? I mean, I KNOW you know. But didja know I also...know? (Sam kisses Dean. Dean doesn't move, but doesn't pull away either.)

Dean: Sam. Don't do this. Not now.

Sam: I can't say it? Been wanting to say it, Dean.

Dean: That's José talking, not you. And you know and I know José is a fucking liar. (Sam kisses Dean again, longer, with more heat. This time, Dean leans into the kiss a little.)

Sam: Wanna know a secret?

Dean: You'll hate yourself in the morning, man. (Sam sits up straight, raking his hair back with one hand. Dean starts to disentangle himself from his flannel shirt.)

Sam: I'm not drunk.


Sam: After that first shot? Soda water. All night.

Dean: So why...Sam... the fuck? (Dean stands, frees his hands and throws the flannel shirt upstage.)

Sam: Knew you wouldn't let me kiss you unless I was drunk. (Sam rises to his feet, and is completely steady.)

Dean: Sammy?

Sam: Knew you wouldn't let yourself like it.

Dean: You're...not drunk?

Sam: Nope. (Dean's stunned expression melts into a huge smile.)

Dean: Not drunk means you're capable of giving consent.

Sam: Really? You'd have said no if I was actually plastered?

Dean: I won't... I mean, you gotta say yes. You. Not the Cuervo. (Sam digs his fists into the front of Dean's t-shirt and holds Dean steady, stepping so close to him that their bodies touch.)

Sam: Yes.

Dean: But we're...

Sam: Yes.

Dean: So you're cool with- (Sam wraps one hand behind Dean's head, with infinite tenderness)

Sam. Yes.

(Sam and Dean look at each other for a long moment in silence.)

Sam: Been saying yes. For years. You just never heard me.

Dean: But- (Sam seals his mouth over Dean's to quiet him, and kisses him with everything he has kept inside him for so long. After a long moment, Dean pulls back from the kiss.)

Sam: Dean?

Dean: Yes.