It just somehow happened. You didn’t want to choose, so you didn’t. You met both of them at the same time. They both wanted you, you wanted both. With Dean you could be reckless and have fun, but with Sam you could deep talk for hours.

They’d always fight over who’s your favourite and try to get you for themselves. They were overly touchy and possessive. How were you suppose to ever choose? You wanted to best of both worlds.

You were sandwiched between both of them on the couch. Sam had his arm around your waist, his fingers absently stroking your skin beneath your shirt while Dean had a hand on your thigh like it belonged to him.

Do you need something, sweetheart?” Sam murmured against your ear, voice low, soft enough that it almost felt like it belonged only to you. “Tea? Coffee? I can make it.”

He didn’t even fully look up from the page, like he already knew the answer but would still get up if you said yes.

Dean scoffed immediately, because of course he did. He immediately had to double down. “You need a blanket, princess?” he cut in, leaning forward just enough to be annoying. “Or food. She probably needs food. When does she not need food?”

“I ate like an hour ago,” you said, though you didn’t move.

“That’s not a denial,” Dean replied.

Sam finally glanced over the top of his book, calm but pointed. “She’s fine, Dean.”

Dean tilted his head. “Yeah? You a doctor now?”

“I’m observant.”