Oh, it is love (Sam/Dean, 1202 words, pg-13ish?)
Schmoop, because a girl can't write angsty horror for ever. Also, because when you start to feel that humanity - as a whole - is damn disappointing, schmoop is the best way not to start headdesking. Unbeta'd.
Oh, it is love
(Sam/Dean, 1202 words, pg-13ish?)
In the time it takes for Sam to roll over and burrow his head deeper under Dean's arm, lips brushing the soft skin of Dean's side in a butterfly kiss, Dean goes from mostly asleep to completely freaking out.
Sam is an octopus when asleep and it doesn't seem to matter how much Dean scoots and shuffles over the sticky bed sheets, he's still tangled up in Sam's long arms and legs. And Sam gets all whimpery and frowny the harder Dean tries to escape. He starts scooting and shuffling right along with Dean, until Dean ends up balanced precariously on the edge of the motel bed, just as wrapped up in Sam as he was when he woke.
By then, Dean is hyperventilating. There is a big loud INCEST siren sounding in his head that won't shut up and it's very hard to ignore when his baby brother is all naked and cuddly in the bed with him. When Dean squirms off the side of the bed and drops to the floor, Sam makes a loud, upset noise. Dean grabs his clothes and bolts for the door. Hopping on one leg, he's able to get his jeans on by the time he's in the parking lot, his shirt by the time he's at the Impala and his boots on by the time he needs to put his foot to the floor and send the Impala careening down the road.
The INCEST-INCEST-INCEST siren is still going at top volume, too loud for Dean to consider gas prices or destinations, and he concentrates on getting the hell away from the motel room in which he had sex (lots of it) with his baby brother. It is a room Dean can't ever go in again because INCEST. He heard Sammy's sex noises, saw his o-face. This is acceptable fraternal knowledge if the knowledge is gained by inadvertently catching your brother with some very hot chick. And then it's also acceptable to tease your brother about it and do stupid imitations of his sex noises.
It is not acceptable knowledge when it's gained by having your brother's dick in your hand, mouth, ass, or, in fact, any part of your body at all. Dean would very much like to have the knowledge removed from his head because he can't think of Sammy without his cock showing an interest.
He has to pull over then because his cock is showing way too much interest. It's probably all this talk of orgasms and sex noises in connection with Sammy. Skidding the Impala off the road, Dean opens the door and swings round to heave himself out of the car and onto the grass. He's not sure whether to vomit or jerk off. Both options spring to mind with alarming frequency the more he thinks about Sam.
Reaching a decision on that one is too hard and Dean fumbles about for his cellphone, intending to call Sam up and bawl him out for letting Dean get drunk and letting Dean put his hands on him and letting Dean fall in the wrong kind of love with him.
And oh God but that's a thought so staggering that even the INCEST-INCEST-GODDAMN-INCEST siren can't compete.
He's in love with Sammy. Which is an entirely different proposition to loving Sam so damn much he's willing to go to Hell for him.
He kneels there in the grass, trying to wrap his head around it. He kneels there until his knees start to ache and then he drops back onto his butt and sits there some more. The sun moves in a graceful arc in the sky, sweeping the shadows of the landscape across the ground. Sometimes cars go by on the road behind him. A couple slow down to ask him if he's okay.
"Car trouble?" one guy says.
"Nah," says Dean, still staring at nothing in particular. "Car's cool. Just fallen in love with my brother."
That kills the conversation pretty effectively.
The sky's gone from smooth blue to washed out lavender by the time Dean stumbles to his feet and slides back into the Impala. It's another three hours before he manages to navigate himself back to the motel. He hadn't exactly paid attention to the road signs when he was freaking the fuck out and just driving.
It takes a couple of wrong turns and more than a little backtracking but eventually Dean parks up in the lot and slowly approaches the motel room door. It's not locked. Sam looks up from where he's sitting on his bed, hunched over his laptop, when Dean walks in. He's dressed and doesn't look exactly pissed at the sight of Dean. Just raises an eyebrow and says, "You done freaking out now?"
"Maybe," Dean says defensively.
Sam snorts and goes back to his laptop, fingers tapping rapidly at the keys. "Well next time, could you maybe not abandon me somewhere where the wireless keeps crapping out on me?"
Dean takes a deep breath, and then another. Licks his lips and says, "Sam. Sam, I'm in love with you."
There's a moment's silence as Sam finishes typing something and then looks back up at Dean. "Yes, Dean," he says, very patiently. "I know." When Dean just goes on standing there, Sam shrugs helplessly and adds, "I ordered pizza. There should be some left in the box, if you haven't had dinner already."
Sam goes back to his laptop and, for lack of any better plan, Dean goes in search of the pizza. He finds it and eats it with a miserable kind of confusion. After about an hour, Sam finishes whatever he's doing and flops down on his bed, checking his notes against Dad's journal. Dean turns the tv on and tries to find something to watch. In the end, he settles for channel switching on an average of seventeen channels a minute.
When Sam slaps Dad's journal shut and tidies his notes away, he flicks a glance at Dean, his brows drawn together in mild concern.
"You okay?" he says. "You're pretty quiet."
Dean turns the tv off and doesn’t look at Sam.
"I said I'm in love with you and you-" He cuts off because he is not some insecure teenaged girl trying to get her boyfriend to tell her he loves her. He is not going there. He refuses to.
Sam moves behind him and then Dean feels the light touch of his fingers at the back of Dean's neck, skimming the nape backwards and forwards. "Oh," says Sam. "Oh… Well, see, I didn't wanna say anything, 'cause, well, 'cause you're kinda easily spooked and if I sent you running this time then there was every chance you wouldn't be back for days and the wireless connection here is totally shit."
Dean turns around and looks at Sam. Sam grins at him and the Oh-my-God-incest siren tries to start up but it kind of gets lost in the way Sam bites his lips and flushes.
"I've been… you've no idea. Dean, you… Honestly? You're a little late to the party," says Sam.
It takes all of five seconds for Dean to realise he's done freaking out.
~end
Oh, it is love
(Sam/Dean, 1202 words, pg-13ish?)
In the time it takes for Sam to roll over and burrow his head deeper under Dean's arm, lips brushing the soft skin of Dean's side in a butterfly kiss, Dean goes from mostly asleep to completely freaking out.
Sam is an octopus when asleep and it doesn't seem to matter how much Dean scoots and shuffles over the sticky bed sheets, he's still tangled up in Sam's long arms and legs. And Sam gets all whimpery and frowny the harder Dean tries to escape. He starts scooting and shuffling right along with Dean, until Dean ends up balanced precariously on the edge of the motel bed, just as wrapped up in Sam as he was when he woke.
By then, Dean is hyperventilating. There is a big loud INCEST siren sounding in his head that won't shut up and it's very hard to ignore when his baby brother is all naked and cuddly in the bed with him. When Dean squirms off the side of the bed and drops to the floor, Sam makes a loud, upset noise. Dean grabs his clothes and bolts for the door. Hopping on one leg, he's able to get his jeans on by the time he's in the parking lot, his shirt by the time he's at the Impala and his boots on by the time he needs to put his foot to the floor and send the Impala careening down the road.
The INCEST-INCEST-INCEST siren is still going at top volume, too loud for Dean to consider gas prices or destinations, and he concentrates on getting the hell away from the motel room in which he had sex (lots of it) with his baby brother. It is a room Dean can't ever go in again because INCEST. He heard Sammy's sex noises, saw his o-face. This is acceptable fraternal knowledge if the knowledge is gained by inadvertently catching your brother with some very hot chick. And then it's also acceptable to tease your brother about it and do stupid imitations of his sex noises.
It is not acceptable knowledge when it's gained by having your brother's dick in your hand, mouth, ass, or, in fact, any part of your body at all. Dean would very much like to have the knowledge removed from his head because he can't think of Sammy without his cock showing an interest.
He has to pull over then because his cock is showing way too much interest. It's probably all this talk of orgasms and sex noises in connection with Sammy. Skidding the Impala off the road, Dean opens the door and swings round to heave himself out of the car and onto the grass. He's not sure whether to vomit or jerk off. Both options spring to mind with alarming frequency the more he thinks about Sam.
Reaching a decision on that one is too hard and Dean fumbles about for his cellphone, intending to call Sam up and bawl him out for letting Dean get drunk and letting Dean put his hands on him and letting Dean fall in the wrong kind of love with him.
And oh God but that's a thought so staggering that even the INCEST-INCEST-GODDAMN-INCEST siren can't compete.
He's in love with Sammy. Which is an entirely different proposition to loving Sam so damn much he's willing to go to Hell for him.
He kneels there in the grass, trying to wrap his head around it. He kneels there until his knees start to ache and then he drops back onto his butt and sits there some more. The sun moves in a graceful arc in the sky, sweeping the shadows of the landscape across the ground. Sometimes cars go by on the road behind him. A couple slow down to ask him if he's okay.
"Car trouble?" one guy says.
"Nah," says Dean, still staring at nothing in particular. "Car's cool. Just fallen in love with my brother."
That kills the conversation pretty effectively.
The sky's gone from smooth blue to washed out lavender by the time Dean stumbles to his feet and slides back into the Impala. It's another three hours before he manages to navigate himself back to the motel. He hadn't exactly paid attention to the road signs when he was freaking the fuck out and just driving.
It takes a couple of wrong turns and more than a little backtracking but eventually Dean parks up in the lot and slowly approaches the motel room door. It's not locked. Sam looks up from where he's sitting on his bed, hunched over his laptop, when Dean walks in. He's dressed and doesn't look exactly pissed at the sight of Dean. Just raises an eyebrow and says, "You done freaking out now?"
"Maybe," Dean says defensively.
Sam snorts and goes back to his laptop, fingers tapping rapidly at the keys. "Well next time, could you maybe not abandon me somewhere where the wireless keeps crapping out on me?"
Dean takes a deep breath, and then another. Licks his lips and says, "Sam. Sam, I'm in love with you."
There's a moment's silence as Sam finishes typing something and then looks back up at Dean. "Yes, Dean," he says, very patiently. "I know." When Dean just goes on standing there, Sam shrugs helplessly and adds, "I ordered pizza. There should be some left in the box, if you haven't had dinner already."
Sam goes back to his laptop and, for lack of any better plan, Dean goes in search of the pizza. He finds it and eats it with a miserable kind of confusion. After about an hour, Sam finishes whatever he's doing and flops down on his bed, checking his notes against Dad's journal. Dean turns the tv on and tries to find something to watch. In the end, he settles for channel switching on an average of seventeen channels a minute.
When Sam slaps Dad's journal shut and tidies his notes away, he flicks a glance at Dean, his brows drawn together in mild concern.
"You okay?" he says. "You're pretty quiet."
Dean turns the tv off and doesn’t look at Sam.
"I said I'm in love with you and you-" He cuts off because he is not some insecure teenaged girl trying to get her boyfriend to tell her he loves her. He is not going there. He refuses to.
Sam moves behind him and then Dean feels the light touch of his fingers at the back of Dean's neck, skimming the nape backwards and forwards. "Oh," says Sam. "Oh… Well, see, I didn't wanna say anything, 'cause, well, 'cause you're kinda easily spooked and if I sent you running this time then there was every chance you wouldn't be back for days and the wireless connection here is totally shit."
Dean turns around and looks at Sam. Sam grins at him and the Oh-my-God-incest siren tries to start up but it kind of gets lost in the way Sam bites his lips and flushes.
"I've been… you've no idea. Dean, you… Honestly? You're a little late to the party," says Sam.
It takes all of five seconds for Dean to realise he's done freaking out.
~end