A/N: I want someone to write more appealing summaries for my fics, because I am horrid at it. Summaries and titling, I'm telling you, are actually the two worst/hardest parts of writing. Also, GRAH, FOOD PROMPTS. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY FOOD PROMPTS? And there's more coming, folks. Urgh. These are actually really hard.

"Dean, this is incredible," Sam marveled, staring open-mouthed up at the dazzling Christmas lights of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.

"Told you it would be worth the drive," Dean smiled, just as enraptured. The tree was in full splendor, every one of the thousands of lights that illuminated the branches shining brightly, casting a warm, pretty glow on the whole plaza, "Now that'sa tree."

"Tell me about it," Sam laughed, looking at Dean, "This was an awesome idea."

"I do get them, you know, don't sound so surprised," Dean scoffed, hooking his arm around his brother's neck and pulling him in, scrubbing his knuckles against the top of his head and Sam squirmed with an annoyed sound.

"Deeeeeean!" Sam whined, struggling to get away, "Get off!"

"Saaaaaaam!" Dean mimicked, "Don't be such a whimp!"

"Jerk," Sam mumbled when Dean finally released him, flattening down his hair hastily with one hand.

"Bitch," Dean supplied easily in return, grinning as he put his hands on the back of Sam's shoulders instead, rolling his eyes when Sam tensed for a brief moment, expecting more manhandling.

Instead, Dean pulled Sam back toward him, his chest pressed against Sam's back. His little brother was still short enough that Dean could easily rest his chin on the top of his head, though if his growth spurts were anything to go by, that wouldn't be true for much longer.

Sam sighed, and Dean knew the little brat was rolling his eyes, even as he relaxed back against him, hands in his pockets.

Dean smiled a little wider, wrapping his arms around Sam's shoulders comfortably and returning his eyes to the tree, enjoying the glow for a while longer.

"Still can't believe Dad gave you the car," Sam said, and Dean's heart fluttered at the exhilaration of being reminded that the Impala was his.

"I know. I know, I know! God, I couldn't believe it," Dean chattered excitedly, squeezing Sam's shoulders in his excitement.

"I have never seen you so close to squealing like a girl," Sam teased, "Thought you were going to pull your clothes off and roll around on the hood or something."

"Oh shut up," Dean quipped back, putting his hand on Sam's face and giving him a gentle shake, which Sam batted away with a cracked squeak that made Dean laugh.

"Shut up, Dean," it was Sam's turn to say, though Dean detected the smile in his voice.

They fell silent then, the murmur of the crowd and the city noise floating around them as they continued to stare at the giant Christmas tree. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the solidness of Sam's shoulders and the feeling of his brother breathing pressed against his chest.

It was strange, how much of a difference that car seemed to make. They had been left alone together almost their entire lives while their dad was on a hunt. But it felt different, now. Instead of watching their dad put taillights to them, they had control of the direction, if they so felt like it.

And today, he had felt like it. So five hours and a tank of gas later, this is where they found themselves.

Sam suddenly shivered, and Dean tightened his hold.


"Yeah, fine," Sam answered, even though he shivered again, and Dean rubbed his arms vigorously.

"Wanna get some cider?" Dean offered, and Sam perked up at the idea immediately.

"Oh man, that would be awesome."

Dean smiled, patted Sam's shoulders before letting go, the two of them putting their hands in their pockets as they made their way through the throng of people leisurely.

They were quiet as they stood in line at the food cart, and Dean loved moments like this, moments that seemed too few and far between these days. Moments when they could just relax and enjoy the calm between them, no conversation necessary.

"Two ciders, please," he said when they reached the attendant, and waved away the bills Sam had fished out of his pocket to hand over.

"Thanks," he nodded, passing one to Sam as they made their way around the plaza, taking in the lights some more as they sipped the hot beverage carefully.

"Man, this is good," Sam commented, both hands wrapped around the cardboard cup and Dean hummed in agreement.

"This was awesome, Dean," Sam said quietly, and Dean looked at his brother in the yellow light, "Thanks. For bringing us here."

There was never a time in his life when Dean didn't love his brother. Even when he was being a terrible little brat, Dean never looked at him and thought his life would be better off without him. But he could definitely admit that there were times where he loved him even more than usual, and when Sammy was looking at him like that, like Dean was the best brother in the world, it made him a little afraid of how much he would do for him.

"Sure thing," Dean answered, "I'm just glad you wanted to come. First road trip in the Impala wouldn't have been half as cool if I was flying solo."

Sam smirked, a glint in his eye as he quipped back, "And you would have looked a bit like a creeper standing in front of a Christmas tree by yourself."

Dean flicked his ear in retaliation, and Sam snorted, twitching away.



The grinned at each other, sipping their hot cider some more to fight off the chill and taking a last look at the twinkling lights.

"Ready?" Dean said, when the last of his drink was drained away, and Sam nodded.

Sam fell asleep in the car on the way back, his head turned toward Dean on the back of the seat, breathing apple-scented puffs of air out of his parted lips.

Dean was pretty sure this was the best time on the road their car had ever had.