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English
Series:
Part 2 of A Grief Observed
Stats:
Published:
2018-09-04
Words:
953
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
2
Kudos:
24
Hits:
492

Night

Summary:

Timeline: After Bloodlust before Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things
AN: More of a Gen fic, follow on for "To Comfort Him"
Spoilers: Not Really.

Notes:

--/-- indicates flashback
Thoughts are in italics

Night is the blotting paper for many sorrows - Author Unknown


Work Text:

Sam woke, wrapped up in his brother's warmth and lay quiet and still for a long while, revelling in the feeling of safety, he was secure here, protected. The terrors of the night couldn't reach him while Dean was nestled close to Sam's spine, his face buried near Sam's shoulder, warm breath gusting against bare skin.

They'd taken to sleeping in the same bed since the night a few weeks ago when Dean had comforted him after a nightmare. The next night, Dean had booked them into a room with one king size bed. Sam hadn't questioned it, and Dean hadn't explained. It just became 'how it is.'

Not that Sam was complaining. He'd slept better since this new arrangement began, than he had in months prior. He smiled to himself and stirred a little, eliciting a sleepy grunt from his brother. Dean's fingers twitched where they lay curled against Sam's hip and he was quickly awake. 

"Sam?"

"I'm okay, dude," Sam replied. "I just…need to get up-would'ya mind?" He patted his brother's hand in a 'get off me' gesture and rolled out of the bed when Dean turned him loose. He made his way towards the bathroom, stretching and scratching his belly as he walked.

Watching him from the bed, Dean let his lips curve in a smile. Sam was so much more relaxed now that they'd started sharing a bed. Dean was glad that he'd decided to change their sleeping arrangements, and he didn't give a fuck about what people thought. There wasn't anything goin' down here besides a guy lookin' out for his kid brother. He rolled onto his back and slipped one hand behind his head. So what if they'd both dispensed with the need to wear a shirt at night? Dean's lips twitched. It's just warmer that way, is all.

"What're you looking so smug about?"

Dean glanced up at his brother and assumed an air of offended innocence. "Smug?" He chuckled, flashing Sam a quick grin. "I wasn't looking smug."

"Right." Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, turned green eyes to his brother and pouted. "I'm starved," he complained. "What've we got to eat?"

"That'd be…" Dean looked thoughtful for a moment. "Exactly nothing."

Accepting this news with a resigned nod, Sam sighed and glanced around the room. "Can we at least try for a room with a mini-bar next time?" He returned his gaze to Dean but fell silent, not really even focused on his brother as his thoughts wandered back to that first night they'd shared a bed.

--/--


"I keep dreaming that I'm back there on that goddamn road, I'm calling for you and for Dad and no-one answers me. I…" Sam held his breath, bit down on his bottom lip, hard. He wouldn't cry, he told himself as he screwed his eyes tight shut. Tears don't change anything. I could cry a river and it wouldn't bring Dad back. He shivered; his lip broke free of his teeth. A sob escaped, harsh, wracking more like a cough. 

"Sammy!" Dean hitched closer on the bed, reaching to pull his brother into his arms. He tucked Sam's head under his own chin and held him close.

--/--

 



And that's when he kissed me, Sam thought, closing his eyes at the memory of warm, firm lips pressing against his temple while Dean held him and then the gentle caress of his brother's fingers on the back of his neck. 

 



--/-- 

A warm tingling sensation started from the back of his neck where Dean gently caressed him; the gesture meant to soothe, coupled with the memory of that fleeting kiss next to his eye, set off all manner of unfamiliar and not entirely unwelcome sensations. Through his tears, Sam responded, pressing his lips to the base of Dean's throat. He gulped when Dean tensed, his fingers stilled against Sam's skin. Eyes closed, praying that his brother wouldn't fly off the deep end and beat the crap out of him, Sam tried again. Another fleeting kiss, a flicker of his tongue at the juncture of the collar bone, right where Sam knew he would love to be kissed were their positions reversed.

His heart missed a beat and then restarted with a frantic, frightened pace when Dean pushed him away.

"Dude…uh, Sam I…"

He couldn't bear to hear it. Sam lifted his gaze to Dean's face. "Dean. Please."

--/--



And that's when I wussed out, turned it into some lame 'hold my hand, bro?' shit.

Sam was startled out of his reverie by fingers snapping in front of his eyes. "Hello?"

He shook himself and focused on Dean. "Sorry."

"What're you havin' another vision? What's with you?" Dean sounded more than a little irritated. 

"Naw, it's nothin' I'm fine." He managed a small smile and moved to lie back down next to Dean. "I should try and get back to sleep…it's nowhere near breakfast time."

Dean frowned at Sam's back, wondering what his brother had been thinking about. His eyes, though distant, unfocused had gleamed for a moment there with a light of mingled desire and misery that made Dean wanna kill whoever it was that could inspire such a look. He didn't want to examine his feelings too deeply, acknowledging the sick jealousy from a distance before turning his thoughts to other things. 

The night was nearly over, and then he would have to slip back into his daytime 'game face,' making a show of having it all together, in control. Cool, calm unshakable Dean. Dependable brother, focused hunter, tough guy. Dean closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh. The night was the blotting paper for many sorrows, but the night never lasted long enough.

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