Reminders of Echoes - Outtake
PG-13 (mild slash - kissing)
This is just a comment snip I wrote for Meg (brynwulf) from a scene in RoE.
The characters and situations portrayed here are not mine, they belong to the WB. This is a fan authored work and no profit is being made. Please do not link to this story without appropriate warnings. Please do not archive this story without my permission.
Sam was right; laughing made him want to throw up again, but he didn't. He fell asleep with the feeling of Dean's fingers threading through his hair. He didn't think Dean realized he was doing it.
He felt better by morning, found himself half-trapped under Dean's arm where Dean had merely slid down in the bed and wrapped himself around Sam like he usually did. Sam smiled at the tight curl of limbs and blankets they managed; sharing a pillow, one of Sam's legs pressed between Dean's. It is easier to get close when they are back to front, but Sam is willing to sacrifice that for what he gets out of being able to watch Dean wake up. It's about the only time Dean's masks aren't fully in place. The other times…well, Sam's got hopes for those too.
He'd never really expected Dean to be the one who preferred to wrap himself around Sam when they slept. Sam has always been the one who sought physical contact; Dean had to talk himself into it most times. When they slept in separate beds, which granted, wasn't often any longer, Dean would sprawl, move -- take up a double bed with no effort at all.
When they shared, they might as well have been sharing a twin for the distance that could be found between them.
Dean's breath, soft and warm, fanned lightly across Sam's cheek. Beneath Dean's eyelids, his eyes only moved a little, already coming out of deep sleep, even though it was early yet. Sam wasn't exactly sure when Dean had fallen asleep. It could have been hours or minutes ago, although given the bone deep laxness in his body, Sam figured it had been a couple of hours at least.
He stretched his leg, not really dislodging the clasp of Dean's thighs around his, but enough to get a ripple of reaction and a half-snort, half-sigh from Dean. Getting out from under Dean's arm was harder and he felt Dean tense -- too close to waking.
"It's just me," Sam said quietly before Dean could jerk away. He would sometimes; instinct and the ever-present awareness he carried with him like his own personal alarm system kicking in even with Sam.
Dean's eyes opened slowly: a couple of blinks, pupils still dilated from sleep, mouth open and lax. Sam leaned in, smiling a little as he pressed his lips to his brother's, just lightly; greeting not intention.
Dean's mouth opened under his anyway. He was more awake than he seemed.
His tongue teased at Sam's lips, left them wet, then pushed gently in. Sam swallowed then sucked lightly as Dean's lifted his arm off Sam's shoulder, bending his elbow to press his palm flat to Sam's face, thumb brushing over the corners of both their mouths.
Sam could almost fall back asleep under the hypnotically gentle pressure of Dean's mouth on his, the stroke of his finger. Dean pulled back slowly, eyes still sleepy, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Feeling better, are we?" he asked in a rough whisper.
Sam grinned and stretched his leg out again, this time really stretching, pressing up, feeling Dean harden against his thigh. "Yeah," he said and pushed a little until Dean rolled back, watching Sam with open eyes and a little smirk as his hand pulled at Sam's hip, settling them closer together.
"Good. Cause if you barf on me? We are so done," Dean says, but already his hand is stroking up and down along Sam's back.