the sizzle of bacon can be heard all throughout the house. you struggle, flipping pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon.
"shit!" you say, as hot oil sprays your arm. sam looks up from his computer.
"you alright?" he asks. you turn to him with a smile.
"i'll live." dean walks into the kitchen, his fluffy pajama pants hanging onto his hips. he fluffs his hair as he yawns.
"morning." dean groans. he walks into the kitchen, attempting to grab a pancake. you smack his hand away.
"it'll be done in a minute."
"so bossy." he says with a smirk.
"fuck off." you say with a smile. he bites his lower lip and tilts his head to the side.
"set the table." you playfully growl at him before turning back around to the frying pans, flipping the bacon once more. you hear the clank of plates as dean pulls them from the cabinets, and the smash as he slams them on the table.
"careful!" you yell at him.
"sure, mom!" he yells back, matching your tone. sam walks over to you, placing his hands on your hips and his head on you shoulder. he softly kisses your neck. you lightly moan, running your fingers through his hair. you hear his lips softly parting into a smile.
"go help your brother." you whisper to him.
"sure, mom." he whispers back, smacking your rear as he walks away.