Fic: Never Share a Bed With Dean Winchester (R)
Written for Day 9 of mmom
Title: Never Share a Bed With Dean Winchester
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Sam and Dean
Summary: See title.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys :(
Word Count: 555
Sam hated it when they were at the end of their money supply, between credit cards and with only a handful of bills between them. He was fifteen damn it! Way too old to have to share a bed with his brother. His brother who hogged the blankets, the brother who kicked out suddenly in his sleep hard enough to leave bruises, the brother who occasionally had naughty dreams and tried to cuddle.
When it got to the cuddling stage, Sam would leave the bed in a huff, much to the amusement of his dad, who either got the second bed or went without. If their dad was awake, Sam would drop a large book near the bed, rousing Dean enough to knock it the fuck off. If he was asleep, Sam would pull up a chair and go sit by the window, watching the night make way for the new day and silently fume.
Tonight, tensions were high. They had all almost been killed, fallen prey to something they had yet to figure out even what it was called. Even Bobby and Rufis were clueless. And they had to do it all again the next day. Sam just wanted a place to curl up and nurse his bruised and swollen shoulder. Dean had been kicking and blaming himself since it had happened. Sam let him, in too fowl of a mood to attempt to reason.
John was out trying to sniff out some more information, promising to be back by dawn. He had stayed long enough to help the boys secure the room, double check Sam’s injuries, and leave.
In bed, Sam tried to keep his distance from Dean, not wanting his body to take any more punishment. Just as he started to drift off, the bed creaked. Again. “Dean, stop it.”
Dean just ignored him.
Sam rolled onto his back, painfully turning his head to glare. “Dean,” he warned, this time reaching out and hitting a spot on his brother’s back that he knew had been bothering him earlier.
Dean stilled his hand. “Do that again and I’ll break your fingers.”
“Stop jerking off! I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Screw you.” Dean continued like he hadn’t been interrupted.
So Sam sat up and shoved Dean off the bed.
Dean’s feet barely touched the floor before he launched himself back on the bed, tackling Sam. Sam rolled with him, and they both tumbled off the other side of the bed, Sam crying out when his shoulder hit the hard wood floor. He elbowed Dean in the stomach, trying to dislodge the furious grip on his shirt. Something hit his nose, the new pain freezing him up, and he was shoved away, glaring through teary eyes as Dean stalked back over to the bed.
Sam wanted nothing more than to jump at Dean, try to show him that he wasn’t completely useless in a fight, but the tense line of Dean’s shoulders stopped him. Dean would pull no punches this time.
Wiping the trickle of blood from his nose as he stood, Sam stomped loudly past Dean, grabbed a blanket and a pillow off the bed, and headed for the bathroom.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Dean called after him.
“Bathtub. Go piss in the bushes!” He slammed the bathroom door and locked it.
Title: Never Share a Bed With Dean Winchester
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Sam and Dean
Summary: See title.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys :(
Word Count: 555
Sam hated it when they were at the end of their money supply, between credit cards and with only a handful of bills between them. He was fifteen damn it! Way too old to have to share a bed with his brother. His brother who hogged the blankets, the brother who kicked out suddenly in his sleep hard enough to leave bruises, the brother who occasionally had naughty dreams and tried to cuddle.
When it got to the cuddling stage, Sam would leave the bed in a huff, much to the amusement of his dad, who either got the second bed or went without. If their dad was awake, Sam would drop a large book near the bed, rousing Dean enough to knock it the fuck off. If he was asleep, Sam would pull up a chair and go sit by the window, watching the night make way for the new day and silently fume.
Tonight, tensions were high. They had all almost been killed, fallen prey to something they had yet to figure out even what it was called. Even Bobby and Rufis were clueless. And they had to do it all again the next day. Sam just wanted a place to curl up and nurse his bruised and swollen shoulder. Dean had been kicking and blaming himself since it had happened. Sam let him, in too fowl of a mood to attempt to reason.
John was out trying to sniff out some more information, promising to be back by dawn. He had stayed long enough to help the boys secure the room, double check Sam’s injuries, and leave.
In bed, Sam tried to keep his distance from Dean, not wanting his body to take any more punishment. Just as he started to drift off, the bed creaked. Again. “Dean, stop it.”
Dean just ignored him.
Sam rolled onto his back, painfully turning his head to glare. “Dean,” he warned, this time reaching out and hitting a spot on his brother’s back that he knew had been bothering him earlier.
Dean stilled his hand. “Do that again and I’ll break your fingers.”
“Stop jerking off! I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Screw you.” Dean continued like he hadn’t been interrupted.
So Sam sat up and shoved Dean off the bed.
Dean’s feet barely touched the floor before he launched himself back on the bed, tackling Sam. Sam rolled with him, and they both tumbled off the other side of the bed, Sam crying out when his shoulder hit the hard wood floor. He elbowed Dean in the stomach, trying to dislodge the furious grip on his shirt. Something hit his nose, the new pain freezing him up, and he was shoved away, glaring through teary eyes as Dean stalked back over to the bed.
Sam wanted nothing more than to jump at Dean, try to show him that he wasn’t completely useless in a fight, but the tense line of Dean’s shoulders stopped him. Dean would pull no punches this time.
Wiping the trickle of blood from his nose as he stood, Sam stomped loudly past Dean, grabbed a blanket and a pillow off the bed, and headed for the bathroom.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Dean called after him.
“Bathtub. Go piss in the bushes!” He slammed the bathroom door and locked it.