The snow had started drifting over I-70 before they passed into Kansas and Dean wasn’t shocked to see the ‘road closed’ sign ahead of them, forty miles from the state line. State police cars with lights flashing in front of closed gates.
“Damn, we’re so close.” Sam muttered as Dean pulled off the highway.
The Impala’s vents were rattling, but the cold seeped in with the strong winds and Sam huddled in his thick coat, trying to pull his knees up higher. Trying to get smaller, to get warm. They drove by a couple hotels with no vacancy lights, bright in the dark. Dean turned into the last motel parking lot, Baby’s tires spun in the thick, wet snow. Nothing but an inch of solid ice under that.
Sam shivered, waiting in the running car while Dean used fake ID and plastic.
“Last one.” Dean tossed the key at Sam and parked as close as he could to the room. Which wasn’t close at all.
They trudged through the heavy snow with their packs, sliding around two parked semis and an ancient RV. Sam fumbled with the key card and Dean shifted beside him.
“Sometime tonight would be good.”
The room was small; one lamp, one table, one chair. One bed.
Sam dropped his duffle on the table and looked at Dean.
“This was it.” Dean shrugged and Sam walked to the bathroom.
Hot water and soap, a moment to himself. He brushed his teeth and opened the door. Dean was on the bed, the heater blowing high, the air moving the curtains. Sam looked over Dean’s smooth, bare chest to his open jeans. Dean’s hand down over the curve of his hard cock. Lube and condoms on the tiny nightstand.
“Couldn’t wait for me?”
Dean smiled, his lips wet.
“Just warming up for you, Sammy.”