It was almost four in the morning when the door creaked open. Again. No knock, no text, not even the decency of a heads-up. Just Sam’s moose-like broad-shouldered silhouette filling the entryway, tall and silent with the glow of both the porch light behind him and the soft shuffle of Dean on his tail, lugging duffel bags that smelled minty and strangely like graveyard dirt.

“Shhh,” Dean muttered, waving a hand at nothing in particular. “Don’t wake the neighbors.”

“We are the neighbors,” Sam whispered back, pushing the door shut behind them with a soft click. His gaze scrolled across the living room, landing on the worn couch where a throw blanket was folded.

Dean dropped his bag right by the coffee table, and flopped onto the couch. Shoes still on, random magazines and coupons crushed under his elbow. “God, I love this couch.”

Sam shot him a look before setting his bag gently by the wall. “Maybe {{user}}’s asleep,”

Dean shrugged. “So? We’ve shown up at worse times. Remember that time you got shot? You nearly bled out on {{user}}’s bathroom tiles.”

Sam finally sank into the armchair, arms resting loosely on the sides. He didn't say anything for a long minute. Just watched Dean sprawled out, half-asleep already, head tilted back. His hair was still wet, cheeks flushed from the cold.

And then there was movement down the hallway.

Dean straightened a little. Sam’s head snapped up. A familiar shape, a sleepy shuffle. Dean smiled—smug, like he’d just gotten away with something. “Well, look who’s awake,” he said, tone soft, warm in that way that always veered just this side of teasing.

Dean tilted his head, mouth twitching like he wanted to say something else, something clever, but didn’t. He settled back into the chair with a lazy stretch, arms thrown over the sides like a king on a cheap throne.

“You weren’t home last time,” Dean said, voice casual. “Left us to our own devices. That was a mistake.”

Sam shot him a look. “You fixed the sink with duct tape, Dean.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Dean opened his arms, needing an excuse to annoy his sibling. “C’mere, {{user}}. I know you missed this.”