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Dean heard Sam before he saw him. Aw, Christ, he never should have let the kid out of his sight.
"That's the thing, you know? Nobody knows him like I do. I mean, he's saved so many people, but I don't think even half of them get it. They don't have any idea what kind of man he really is. I mean, sure, he's a hero, but that's—"
"Hey, Sammy, there you are. What are you doin', talking this poor girl's ear off? I'm sorry, ma'am, my brother—"
Sam's face lit up like he was five, and Dean was the prize in the box of Lucky Charms. "Dean! Hey! I was just telling Megan how much I love you, man." He turned his megawatt smile on the poor, nonplussed desk clerk, and she blinked. Dean couldn't blame her. Sam was a lot to take like this, even for him, never mind innocent bystanders.
"This is Dean," Sam said, in the tone one might use to announce the presence of a divine being.
"Uh huh," she said. "Got that."
"Did I tell you he saved my life when he was four years old? Because he did. He's been there for me my whole life, even when nobody else was—"
"Okay, Sparky, come on. Let's get you back to the room, huh?" Dean grinned an apology at the girl behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat in his own face. He hauled on Sam's arm, dragging him toward the door. "Pain meds, make him kinda loopy."
"See?" Sam said, emotion thick in his voice. And oh, crap, he was looking at Dean with that soft, unbearably tender expression again, complete with the misty eyes and that mortifying, squirm-inducing devotion. "Here he is, watching out for me, like always. Even when I don't deserve it."
"And if you don't put a sock in it, I'm gonna lock you in the trunk for the next two days. Let's go, kiddo." Dean finally succeeded in dragging Sam out of the motel office, but they barely made it ten feet before Sam planted his feet and seized hold of Dean's arms, stopping him cold.
Dean groaned inwardly. "Come on, man."
"I know, okay? I know you hate hearing this stuff, but I just—I can't help myself."
"Yeah, that's because you went and got yourself whammied, remember?"
"You heard what she said, though. It doesn't make you say stuff you don't mean. So I just, I want you to know how I feel about you. Is that so terrible?"
Dean's ears felt so hot, he thought they might catch his hair on fire. Beseeching, he said, "This is all over, two days from now, you're not gonna be able to look me in the face."
"So what?" Sam asked. "It's worth it. If it means I can say this stuff now, so what? We'll get over it. We always do. And then at least you'll know that you're the best thing that ever happened to me." He still hadn't let go. Dean told himself he'd pull away in just a second. It was just that Sam was so childlike in his emotions right now, and it went against every big brother instinct he had to do anything that would feel like rejection. If Sam started with the tearful hugging again, Dean was gonna lose it.
He sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength. "Can we agree not to embarrass me in front of complete strangers any more, at least?"
Sam beamed at him, and despite thirty years of being his brother, Dean wasn't proof against it. "You're so good to me. Seriously, I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. You're my hero."
"Jesus," Dean groaned, and hugged him to shut him up.