[Dean rubbed his face back and forth against Sam's stomach. His brother didn't seem to believe him, but Sam always felt warmer to Dean. He liked the feeling. His own, private space heater.]

[He stilled for a second when Sam's question registered. Unsure how to answer, he resumed rubbing against his brother, taking in Sam's scent and the warmth of his skin.] With Dad, you mean? Things've been better... [He shrugged a little.]

Drinks more. Gone more. [Otherwise, he might've actually called wondering where Dean was all weekend.]