FIC - Similarities and Differences
title: Similarities and Differences
pairing: Sam/Dean
rating: R
a/n: I am trying again to post this correctly with lots of help from my good LJ friends
The Winchester brothers are similar in many ways, but the differences between them are intriguing, sometimes obvious, in some ways unexpected.
They’re evenly matched in strength and passion for the hunt, without question. Dean is dead-on in his aim with any firearm imaginable, Sam can throw a knife at one hundred percent accuracy with his eyes closed. Sam is taller and leaner, Dean is more compact and his physical strength is more obvious to a stranger than that of his younger brother’s. Dean is much smarter than he lets on, part of the image he likes to portray, but he’s nowhere near the realm of Sam’s intellect, which is partly natural and partly due to his opportunity to spend four years studying at Stanford.
When they’re trying to find some small town in the middle of nowhere, Sam takes the map and figures out the directions, because he could read War and Peace in the passenger seat of the Impala but if Dean so much as glanced at it while the car was moving he felt sick to his stomach.
Both men are beautiful, in their own ways. Their bodies are almost perfect specimens of grace and athleticism that doesn’t come from playing team sports or working out at a gym, though Sam spends a fair amount of time burning off energy by running and doing push-ups and lifting weights when he has the chance. Their lifestyle isn’t conducive to a gym membership, so the sculpted muscles and lean shapes are mostly a result of a spending most of their time from when they were younger than ten years old training, engaging in physical labor, hunting and fighting.
Dean can hustle pool and darts and charm young clerks and secretaries into giving him information with just a hint of that trademark grin that could quite possibly get a nun to renounce her vows. Sam can pick locks and hotwire cars and has his own way of getting what he needs to know from people with his oh-so-sincere-and-earnest eyes looking up from the sweep of bangs that make him look even younger than he is. Of course, this usually has to happen when he’s sitting or hunched over, because it’s hard to look up at someone when you’re almost six and a half feet tall.
Sam gives him the bitchface when Dean orders his sixth bacon cheeseburger with chili fries of the week. He makes a crack about what’s going to happen when his brother gets fat instead of voicing his concerns about arteries and cholesterol. Dean gives his flirty-est look at the busty waitress while he requests his myocardial infarction on a plate, and Sam smiles politely at her as he asks for grilled chicken with a side of whatever might pass for vegetables at whichever diner they happen to be in at the time.
But later, when they’re not hunting, not stopping for food, not tearing up the back roads and highways looking for the latest monster that they need to kill, there are more similarities than differences.
At the latest low-rate motel they happen to score, neither of them cares if there are two beds or one. They’re only going to sleep in one, the only difference is that if there are two, they can move after they’ve fucked each other senseless and neither has to worry about sleeping in the wet spot. Dean likes to be inside Sam, and Sam likes Dean to be inside him. Fingers, tongue, cock, whatever. Both of them take an overwhelming amount of pleasure seeing the other fall to pieces, hearing each other’s whimpers, moans, cries, begging, declarations of love and forever and mine and yours and please more please, one watching as his brother loses everything in that moment when he falls over the edge.
The one thing that will never be different, will never change, will never be questioned, is their commitment to this, the acts and the feelings that make them more than brothers, more than lovers, more than anything that any other person on the planet (or elsewhere) will ever have. No matter what either of them has questioned for as long as they can remember, that is an absolute certainty. They belong to each other in a way that two people never have, never could, never will.
pairing: Sam/Dean
rating: R
a/n: I am trying again to post this correctly with lots of help from my good LJ friends
The Winchester brothers are similar in many ways, but the differences between them are intriguing, sometimes obvious, in some ways unexpected.
They’re evenly matched in strength and passion for the hunt, without question. Dean is dead-on in his aim with any firearm imaginable, Sam can throw a knife at one hundred percent accuracy with his eyes closed. Sam is taller and leaner, Dean is more compact and his physical strength is more obvious to a stranger than that of his younger brother’s. Dean is much smarter than he lets on, part of the image he likes to portray, but he’s nowhere near the realm of Sam’s intellect, which is partly natural and partly due to his opportunity to spend four years studying at Stanford.
When they’re trying to find some small town in the middle of nowhere, Sam takes the map and figures out the directions, because he could read War and Peace in the passenger seat of the Impala but if Dean so much as glanced at it while the car was moving he felt sick to his stomach.
Both men are beautiful, in their own ways. Their bodies are almost perfect specimens of grace and athleticism that doesn’t come from playing team sports or working out at a gym, though Sam spends a fair amount of time burning off energy by running and doing push-ups and lifting weights when he has the chance. Their lifestyle isn’t conducive to a gym membership, so the sculpted muscles and lean shapes are mostly a result of a spending most of their time from when they were younger than ten years old training, engaging in physical labor, hunting and fighting.
Dean can hustle pool and darts and charm young clerks and secretaries into giving him information with just a hint of that trademark grin that could quite possibly get a nun to renounce her vows. Sam can pick locks and hotwire cars and has his own way of getting what he needs to know from people with his oh-so-sincere-and-earnest eyes looking up from the sweep of bangs that make him look even younger than he is. Of course, this usually has to happen when he’s sitting or hunched over, because it’s hard to look up at someone when you’re almost six and a half feet tall.
Sam gives him the bitchface when Dean orders his sixth bacon cheeseburger with chili fries of the week. He makes a crack about what’s going to happen when his brother gets fat instead of voicing his concerns about arteries and cholesterol. Dean gives his flirty-est look at the busty waitress while he requests his myocardial infarction on a plate, and Sam smiles politely at her as he asks for grilled chicken with a side of whatever might pass for vegetables at whichever diner they happen to be in at the time.
But later, when they’re not hunting, not stopping for food, not tearing up the back roads and highways looking for the latest monster that they need to kill, there are more similarities than differences.
At the latest low-rate motel they happen to score, neither of them cares if there are two beds or one. They’re only going to sleep in one, the only difference is that if there are two, they can move after they’ve fucked each other senseless and neither has to worry about sleeping in the wet spot. Dean likes to be inside Sam, and Sam likes Dean to be inside him. Fingers, tongue, cock, whatever. Both of them take an overwhelming amount of pleasure seeing the other fall to pieces, hearing each other’s whimpers, moans, cries, begging, declarations of love and forever and mine and yours and please more please, one watching as his brother loses everything in that moment when he falls over the edge.
The one thing that will never be different, will never change, will never be questioned, is their commitment to this, the acts and the feelings that make them more than brothers, more than lovers, more than anything that any other person on the planet (or elsewhere) will ever have. No matter what either of them has questioned for as long as they can remember, that is an absolute certainty. They belong to each other in a way that two people never have, never could, never will.