He just wraps his arms around Sam, holding him closer. He can almost pretend that they’re kids again, that they haven’t died several times over and come back to a world that’s always slowly dissolving. But Dean is tired of lying to himself.
Aw. Oh, boys. Such a quite, still piece, perfectly drawn in black and white moonlight, so insular and just *them*. :)
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Great fic!
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Aw.
Oh, boys. Such a quite, still piece, perfectly drawn in black and white moonlight, so insular and just *them*.
:)
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Loved it... Sweet and painful rolled into one.
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