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erdaTiny little 4.18 tag, PG, Wincest, and all that about 850 words, written on the fly
Sam finished his coffee, wiped his hand across his mouth and consciously straightened up in his chair, determined to get some answers from Dean for once. “So, want to share what you were doing on my laptop?”
“Huh?”
“You know, when I came out of the shower and you slammed the lid closed? And suddenly needed me to run out and get you a coffee that I notice you haven’t taken one sip of ?”
“What the hell, Sam, we have more important things to worry about than my random internet surfing.” Dean had turned his back the way he always did when he had something major to hide. He started sorting through the pile of clean laundry he’d dumped on his bed earlier, smoothing out each article and folding it fussily.
“Dude, you cleared my browser history.”
Dean laughed. “Yeah, so what?”
“I didn’t even know you knew how to do that. All the times you looked at Asian Beauties and all those other porn sites you never worried about hiding what you were doing. What the hell have you been looking at?”
“Hey, I had some free time, thought I was doing you a favor cleaning up your computer a little. Excuse me.”
“Why are you yelling?” Sam asked, deliberately keeping his own voice soft and sympathetic.
“I’m not fucking yelling. Why do you have to know every single thing I do?”
“You were checking out that slash stuff, weren’t you?”
“What? No. Fuck, no. I told you that is just sick.”
“You’ve never thought about it? Never thought about me that way?”
“Of course not. What the hell is wrong with you? I only looked because I thought you were making it up. And now I need to take a shower, and maybe scrub out my brain while I’m at it.” Dean grabbed a towel and skittered into the bathroom. The lock slammed over like a sledgehammer in the quiet room. He stayed in the shower for a long, long time.
It appeared that not another word would be said on the subject, which was disappointing. Sam went to bed early, mostly to escape the oppressive silence that had fallen between them, but he was still awake when Dean dropped onto the other bed with a loud sigh. He listened as Dean rolled around trying to get comfortable, and apparently failing to achieve that objective, because after a lot of mumbling and fumbling of blankets and pillows Dean sat up and blurted out, “Why doesn’t it bother you?”
Sam didn’t know how to answer that. It was true; he wasn’t that bothered by the idea of having sex with his brother. It seemed almost logical given their situation. “With everything else that’s happened, I guess it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to me,” he said.
Dean waved his arm so wildly he almost fell out of his bed. “It is a big deal,” he said. “For one thing, I’m not that into guys, and I never thought of anything like that before, not for one second, it’s never crossed my mind, and now I can’t stop thinking about it, and fuck!” Sam couldn’t see Dean’s expression, but he knew him well enough to know that Dean was clamping his jaw down in hopes that his words would magically unspeak themselves.
Sam rolled to the edge of his bed and stood up slowly, took the two steps that placed him next to Dean’s bed, and planted his feet solidly as if to brace himself against a torrential windstorm. Dean’s head was tipped back against the wall, eyes slitted and watching him. He looked utterly lost. “Don’t look at me like that,” Sam said. “It’s just me and you here. Like always.”
Dean’s eyes flicked down and away nervously. “I wish it could be just us again,” he said sadly, so sadly Sam’s heart ached with sympathy, making it easy to put a knee onto the bed beside Dean’s leg and lean in, bracing his hands on the wall beside Dean’s head and waiting while Dean’s gaze darted around awkwardly, bouncing randomly around the room, and finally, finally came back to meet him.
Sam couldn’t help smiling a little. “We need to stick together,” he said, but he could see it was superfluous. Dean’s expression had already darkened to match his own, and he leaned forward to meet Sam halfway when Sam kissed him, hands wrapping around Sam’s waist and pulling him down, pressing them together shamelessly.
The kiss went out of control and Dean was frantic, gasping out Sam’s name and scrabbling ineffectually first at his own clothing, and then at Sam’s. “Easy, Dean,” Sam said. He sat back and started opening the buttons on Dean’s shirt. “It’s just us, we have time.” His heart flipped over at the way Dean responded to him, calming down immediately and letting Sam undress them, watching him the way only Dean ever did.
Later, they would have to deal with everything. But they would do it together, and their faith in each other would have to carry them through whatever fate awaited them.
Sam finished his coffee, wiped his hand across his mouth and consciously straightened up in his chair, determined to get some answers from Dean for once. “So, want to share what you were doing on my laptop?”
“Huh?”
“You know, when I came out of the shower and you slammed the lid closed? And suddenly needed me to run out and get you a coffee that I notice you haven’t taken one sip of ?”
“What the hell, Sam, we have more important things to worry about than my random internet surfing.” Dean had turned his back the way he always did when he had something major to hide. He started sorting through the pile of clean laundry he’d dumped on his bed earlier, smoothing out each article and folding it fussily.
“Dude, you cleared my browser history.”
Dean laughed. “Yeah, so what?”
“I didn’t even know you knew how to do that. All the times you looked at Asian Beauties and all those other porn sites you never worried about hiding what you were doing. What the hell have you been looking at?”
“Hey, I had some free time, thought I was doing you a favor cleaning up your computer a little. Excuse me.”
“Why are you yelling?” Sam asked, deliberately keeping his own voice soft and sympathetic.
“I’m not fucking yelling. Why do you have to know every single thing I do?”
“You were checking out that slash stuff, weren’t you?”
“What? No. Fuck, no. I told you that is just sick.”
“You’ve never thought about it? Never thought about me that way?”
“Of course not. What the hell is wrong with you? I only looked because I thought you were making it up. And now I need to take a shower, and maybe scrub out my brain while I’m at it.” Dean grabbed a towel and skittered into the bathroom. The lock slammed over like a sledgehammer in the quiet room. He stayed in the shower for a long, long time.
It appeared that not another word would be said on the subject, which was disappointing. Sam went to bed early, mostly to escape the oppressive silence that had fallen between them, but he was still awake when Dean dropped onto the other bed with a loud sigh. He listened as Dean rolled around trying to get comfortable, and apparently failing to achieve that objective, because after a lot of mumbling and fumbling of blankets and pillows Dean sat up and blurted out, “Why doesn’t it bother you?”
Sam didn’t know how to answer that. It was true; he wasn’t that bothered by the idea of having sex with his brother. It seemed almost logical given their situation. “With everything else that’s happened, I guess it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to me,” he said.
Dean waved his arm so wildly he almost fell out of his bed. “It is a big deal,” he said. “For one thing, I’m not that into guys, and I never thought of anything like that before, not for one second, it’s never crossed my mind, and now I can’t stop thinking about it, and fuck!” Sam couldn’t see Dean’s expression, but he knew him well enough to know that Dean was clamping his jaw down in hopes that his words would magically unspeak themselves.
Sam rolled to the edge of his bed and stood up slowly, took the two steps that placed him next to Dean’s bed, and planted his feet solidly as if to brace himself against a torrential windstorm. Dean’s head was tipped back against the wall, eyes slitted and watching him. He looked utterly lost. “Don’t look at me like that,” Sam said. “It’s just me and you here. Like always.”
Dean’s eyes flicked down and away nervously. “I wish it could be just us again,” he said sadly, so sadly Sam’s heart ached with sympathy, making it easy to put a knee onto the bed beside Dean’s leg and lean in, bracing his hands on the wall beside Dean’s head and waiting while Dean’s gaze darted around awkwardly, bouncing randomly around the room, and finally, finally came back to meet him.
Sam couldn’t help smiling a little. “We need to stick together,” he said, but he could see it was superfluous. Dean’s expression had already darkened to match his own, and he leaned forward to meet Sam halfway when Sam kissed him, hands wrapping around Sam’s waist and pulling him down, pressing them together shamelessly.
The kiss went out of control and Dean was frantic, gasping out Sam’s name and scrabbling ineffectually first at his own clothing, and then at Sam’s. “Easy, Dean,” Sam said. He sat back and started opening the buttons on Dean’s shirt. “It’s just us, we have time.” His heart flipped over at the way Dean responded to him, calming down immediately and letting Sam undress them, watching him the way only Dean ever did.
Later, they would have to deal with everything. But they would do it together, and their faith in each other would have to carry them through whatever fate awaited them.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-03 04:56 pm (UTC)But again, thank you, I need fluff right now! *MONSTERHUGS*
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Date: 2009-04-03 07:21 pm (UTC)Lovely fic. :)
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Date: 2009-04-03 08:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-04-04 01:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-04-07 10:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-04-08 04:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
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