Fic: Massage
Title: Massage
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean - Sam/Dean, mentions of Dean/Lisa, hint of Dean/Cas
Summary: Written for ohsam h/c meme: Sam's tweaked his back pretty bad, so Dean gives him a massage. Thoroughly.
Sam could never place the back injury that first started the process. For all he knew, he fell off a jungle gym at age four and that set off the series of back problems that would start plaguing him when he was fourteen - and that kept getting worse and worse. The 'vacation' he took from hunting from eighteen to twenty-three stalled the downward spiral for a while - but after dislocating each shoulder multiple times on multiple occasions... it was nothing short of a miracle that he wasn't in constant pain. Of course, that was little consolation now, after having a vengeful spirit throw him into a bookcase - he was just glad that he'd been able to stumble out of the house. Dean had given him the shower first, but the hot water had done little to ease the pain. What he was looking forward to however, was the massage Dean had promised him as soon as he was done cleaning up.
Tonight's injury already compounded the pain that had already been there. Back pain was almost a constant in Sam Winchester's life as of late. It was one of the main reasons he slept on his stomach in the first place - the idea of spending the night on his back was just unthinkable. Hell, sleeping half laying down in the backseat of the Impala was better than sleeping on his back - thus the reason he was really, really glad he'd never been held in a hospital overnight - except for the time when he was eleven and had his tonsils taken out - but that was before he had almost chronic back pain. The bad part - the really bad part - was that Sam knew that the pain would only get worse as he grew older. The pain was usually a dull ache - like the almost daily headaches he'd had since he got his soul back. Other times his back feels like someone's been clog-dancing on it - then there are the days when his back feels like it's turned to steel and just pulling clothes on makes it feel like his bones are on fire. Tonight however, Sam's facing what he's long called a 'back migraine' - it's all a deep, strong ache that, if it wasn't so dangerous, he'd take a mallet to the sore areas. But he's not to concerned about the pain - because like always, Dean would take care of him.
Sam heard the water shut off and he peered through half lidded eyes as he watched Dean come out of the bathroom clad in pajama bottoms and a shirt advertising some place Sam had never heard of. He normally would have laughed at the sight - Dean never wore pajamas - he figured said garment may have been a gift from Lisa, during their year together. Sam knew better than to give Dean a hard time about that. He knew Dean had been happy - hell, he had wanted Dean to be happy... but it had all fallen apart. The way it always fell apart, for both of them. Maybe that's why the two of them were together - for almost their entire lives, it'd been the two of them against the world, so no way could anyone understand that they really weren't at their best alone. Although given the looks Sam's seen between Cas and Dean... Well, Sam can't even begin to think about that.
“Thought I told you to relax, Sammy...” Dean came over to the bed after turning the heater up. The overhead light was already out and the only the bedside lamp illuminated the room. “You may be lying down but I'd recognize your bitch shoulders anywhere.”
Sam snorted and hid his face in a pillow. “You're full of it, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.” Dean sat down on the bed and folded the blankets down and tucked them around his brother's waist. “It's one of my better qualities, or so I'm told.” He leaned over and picked up the bottle of lotion sitting on the table. “You comfy?”
“As much as possible, I suppose.” Sam hissed when he felt his brother's hand smooth down his back, gently soothing the skin. The scent was as comforting as the contact. “Lavender?”
“Don't get all macho on me Sam.” Dean chuckled as he rubbed Sam's shoulders. “It's also supposed to help you fall asleep.” He ran his hands down his brother's arms. “These are okay, right?”
“Arms are fine.” Sam mumbled. “All in the back...as usual.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dean rubbed his hands together to warm them up a little more and set one hand on Sam's shoulder and then started to work his thumb down his spine. He had felt the tension in the muscles on the first contact - he had no doubt Sam would be snoring before he was finished. He gently pushed down with the hand on the shoulder as his thumb reached the small of Sam's back, working against each vertebrae with a look of concentration. “Well, I can give you some good news...”
“What's that?” Sam mumbled and winced as a jolt of pain went up his spine. “Augh.... bad spot...”
“Yeah, I can feel that....” Dean rubbed the area a little more gently. “I'll get back to it. The good news is, you'll just have a little bruising back here...considering what could have happened...” He broadened the area he was rubbing as he got to the right shoulder blade. “Can't remember the last time I gave you one of these...”
“It was after Brady.” Sam mumbled against his pillow. “I remember.”
Dean nodded in response, even though Sam couldn't see it. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He didn't even want to think about who'd been rubbing Sam's back for the past year - if anyone had. “Prolly explains all these knots...”
Sam smirked and let himself sink into the sensation of his brother's hands on him. “No one gives a massage like you, Dean.” Maybe it had been over a year since he'd had this done. That would make sense - somehow, the soul-less Sam had just knocked back painkillers and went on with it - or had gotten therapy of another sort.
“Hey... whatever train of thought your on, get off of it... your shoulders just tensed again.” Dean's reprimand was soft and Sam felt his hands pull his shoulders straight again. The gentle strokes against his shoulders helped greatly - he needed to stay focused on the now, not the then.
“Sorry...” He let out another grunt as Dean started to knead at a spot under his shoulder-blade. “Guh... yeah, right...” He grimaced. “There.” He kept his breathing even as he felt the heel of Dean's hand working on the muscle that slowly, agonizingly slowly, yielded to the hands working on it until it eased and relaxed under the plying hands. He could tell when Dean switched to using his knuckles, something he did to get at the deep tissue - and it was like something let go in that area and the pain stopped, at least there. He'd been sixteen the first time Dean had given him a proper massage - before then he'd been content with back-rubs. But this... this was wonderful. He felt the tips of Dean's fingers working on his lower back. Thumbs trailing along the bottom of his ribcage before moving back down his spine in a deep, deliberate motion that for some reason, made Sam think of the grooves on pie crust. He smiled and tilted his head to the side so he could see his brother out of the corner of his eye. “Why is it you never have back pain, Dean?”
“Who says I don't?” Dean chuckled softly and started working on a tough spot in the small of Sam's back, alternating between the heel of his hand and his knuckles. “I just don't get it as bad as you do.” He gave Sam's shoulder a soft squeeze before picking the bottle of lotion back up and applying a little more to Sam's skin. “I'm the one with the bad knees, remember?”
Sam snorted and smiled, groaning as he felt his back becoming more and more pliant. “You've broken both of them, haven't you?”
“Na, just the one.” Dean waggled his left leg. “I don't recommend doing it.”
Sam let himself relax more as Dean's hands moved to his right side, which didn't hurt nearly as much as the left. “Why is it that I have so much back trouble?”
“Dunno, Sammy....I'm guessing it all has to do with you growing almost a foot in a month and a half when you were fourteen. Dad said they were growing pains when it started... don't you remember?”
Sam shook his head. “Fourteen was a long time ago...”
Dean chuckled. “Well, that was half a lifetime ago for you, little more actually.” He rubbed at Sam's waist. “Good thing you're not ticklish.”
“Yeah.” Sam closed his eyes contentedly, now that the pain was abating, it was starting to become more and more enjoyable. He never bothered to ask Dean where he learned to give such good massages. He let out another groan, though not in pain, as he felt Dean's thumbs working under his left shoulder blade and up to the space between it and his spine. “When did you go to South Carolina?”
“Huh?” Dean paused, rubbing another tender spot with his thumb.
“The shirt.” Sam had been able to read the shirt when Dean had gotten closer. “Beacon Drive-In in South Carolina.”
“I didn't go to South Carolina.... found this at the Goodwill couple of months ago...” Dean went back to working on the spot where Sam's neck and back met. “Woke up one day in June and realized almost all of my shirts had holes in them.”
“Never knew you to be fussy about that...” Sam let out another grunt as another muscle relaxed. “That felt good.”
“Felt like it felt good.” Dean chuckled, easing up on the deep massage and going back to soft rubbing. “Well, I also realized all the shirts I had were about four years old... and the ones that weren't holey had some stains I didn't want to explain to people.”
Sam knew that hitch in Dean's voice and knew it was time to change the subject. “I hate poltergeists.”
“Makes two of us.” Dean put a little more lotion on his hands and picked up Sam's left arm and started to work down it, feeling the tense muscles. “If you want to go ahead and go to sleep, it's okay. I promise I won't be offended - which is what I should be for you not telling me that your arms were bugging you too.”
“Dean...” Sam's retort was bitten off by a gasp and a grunt as an area in his bicep pulsated for a moment and then let go. “Not that... you know what happens when you...”
“We're not going there tonight, Sammy.” He kneaded his brother's fingers with slow deliberation. “Maybe in the morning.... you need to rest.” He slipped over Sam's legs to sit on his brother's side and worked on his right arm in the same manner.
Sam let out a non-committal grunt and turned his head to the side, letting out a few deep, even breaths. “Say Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean replied as he gently worked out a stubborn kink in his brother's palm.
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome.” He set down Sam's arm, leaned over and kissed the side of his face, just barely brushing the skin with his lips. “G'nite, little brother.”
Sam smiled and sank deeper into relaxation as Dean started rubbing his hand again. “Night, Dean.” He was deeply asleep when Dean pulled the covers back over him, tucking him in slightly before turning out the lamp and sliding under the bed-covers as well. He reached over with his hand, rubbing Sam's forehead with the same gentle motion he'd used on his palms. He fell asleep like that, with one hand outstretched, resting on his brother's neck, so that when Sam woke up the next morning, the first thing he felt was one of his most favorite things in the world.
His brother's bare skin against his.
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean - Sam/Dean, mentions of Dean/Lisa, hint of Dean/Cas
Summary: Written for ohsam h/c meme: Sam's tweaked his back pretty bad, so Dean gives him a massage. Thoroughly.
Sam could never place the back injury that first started the process. For all he knew, he fell off a jungle gym at age four and that set off the series of back problems that would start plaguing him when he was fourteen - and that kept getting worse and worse. The 'vacation' he took from hunting from eighteen to twenty-three stalled the downward spiral for a while - but after dislocating each shoulder multiple times on multiple occasions... it was nothing short of a miracle that he wasn't in constant pain. Of course, that was little consolation now, after having a vengeful spirit throw him into a bookcase - he was just glad that he'd been able to stumble out of the house. Dean had given him the shower first, but the hot water had done little to ease the pain. What he was looking forward to however, was the massage Dean had promised him as soon as he was done cleaning up.
Tonight's injury already compounded the pain that had already been there. Back pain was almost a constant in Sam Winchester's life as of late. It was one of the main reasons he slept on his stomach in the first place - the idea of spending the night on his back was just unthinkable. Hell, sleeping half laying down in the backseat of the Impala was better than sleeping on his back - thus the reason he was really, really glad he'd never been held in a hospital overnight - except for the time when he was eleven and had his tonsils taken out - but that was before he had almost chronic back pain. The bad part - the really bad part - was that Sam knew that the pain would only get worse as he grew older. The pain was usually a dull ache - like the almost daily headaches he'd had since he got his soul back. Other times his back feels like someone's been clog-dancing on it - then there are the days when his back feels like it's turned to steel and just pulling clothes on makes it feel like his bones are on fire. Tonight however, Sam's facing what he's long called a 'back migraine' - it's all a deep, strong ache that, if it wasn't so dangerous, he'd take a mallet to the sore areas. But he's not to concerned about the pain - because like always, Dean would take care of him.
Sam heard the water shut off and he peered through half lidded eyes as he watched Dean come out of the bathroom clad in pajama bottoms and a shirt advertising some place Sam had never heard of. He normally would have laughed at the sight - Dean never wore pajamas - he figured said garment may have been a gift from Lisa, during their year together. Sam knew better than to give Dean a hard time about that. He knew Dean had been happy - hell, he had wanted Dean to be happy... but it had all fallen apart. The way it always fell apart, for both of them. Maybe that's why the two of them were together - for almost their entire lives, it'd been the two of them against the world, so no way could anyone understand that they really weren't at their best alone. Although given the looks Sam's seen between Cas and Dean... Well, Sam can't even begin to think about that.
“Thought I told you to relax, Sammy...” Dean came over to the bed after turning the heater up. The overhead light was already out and the only the bedside lamp illuminated the room. “You may be lying down but I'd recognize your bitch shoulders anywhere.”
Sam snorted and hid his face in a pillow. “You're full of it, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.” Dean sat down on the bed and folded the blankets down and tucked them around his brother's waist. “It's one of my better qualities, or so I'm told.” He leaned over and picked up the bottle of lotion sitting on the table. “You comfy?”
“As much as possible, I suppose.” Sam hissed when he felt his brother's hand smooth down his back, gently soothing the skin. The scent was as comforting as the contact. “Lavender?”
“Don't get all macho on me Sam.” Dean chuckled as he rubbed Sam's shoulders. “It's also supposed to help you fall asleep.” He ran his hands down his brother's arms. “These are okay, right?”
“Arms are fine.” Sam mumbled. “All in the back...as usual.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dean rubbed his hands together to warm them up a little more and set one hand on Sam's shoulder and then started to work his thumb down his spine. He had felt the tension in the muscles on the first contact - he had no doubt Sam would be snoring before he was finished. He gently pushed down with the hand on the shoulder as his thumb reached the small of Sam's back, working against each vertebrae with a look of concentration. “Well, I can give you some good news...”
“What's that?” Sam mumbled and winced as a jolt of pain went up his spine. “Augh.... bad spot...”
“Yeah, I can feel that....” Dean rubbed the area a little more gently. “I'll get back to it. The good news is, you'll just have a little bruising back here...considering what could have happened...” He broadened the area he was rubbing as he got to the right shoulder blade. “Can't remember the last time I gave you one of these...”
“It was after Brady.” Sam mumbled against his pillow. “I remember.”
Dean nodded in response, even though Sam couldn't see it. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He didn't even want to think about who'd been rubbing Sam's back for the past year - if anyone had. “Prolly explains all these knots...”
Sam smirked and let himself sink into the sensation of his brother's hands on him. “No one gives a massage like you, Dean.” Maybe it had been over a year since he'd had this done. That would make sense - somehow, the soul-less Sam had just knocked back painkillers and went on with it - or had gotten therapy of another sort.
“Hey... whatever train of thought your on, get off of it... your shoulders just tensed again.” Dean's reprimand was soft and Sam felt his hands pull his shoulders straight again. The gentle strokes against his shoulders helped greatly - he needed to stay focused on the now, not the then.
“Sorry...” He let out another grunt as Dean started to knead at a spot under his shoulder-blade. “Guh... yeah, right...” He grimaced. “There.” He kept his breathing even as he felt the heel of Dean's hand working on the muscle that slowly, agonizingly slowly, yielded to the hands working on it until it eased and relaxed under the plying hands. He could tell when Dean switched to using his knuckles, something he did to get at the deep tissue - and it was like something let go in that area and the pain stopped, at least there. He'd been sixteen the first time Dean had given him a proper massage - before then he'd been content with back-rubs. But this... this was wonderful. He felt the tips of Dean's fingers working on his lower back. Thumbs trailing along the bottom of his ribcage before moving back down his spine in a deep, deliberate motion that for some reason, made Sam think of the grooves on pie crust. He smiled and tilted his head to the side so he could see his brother out of the corner of his eye. “Why is it you never have back pain, Dean?”
“Who says I don't?” Dean chuckled softly and started working on a tough spot in the small of Sam's back, alternating between the heel of his hand and his knuckles. “I just don't get it as bad as you do.” He gave Sam's shoulder a soft squeeze before picking the bottle of lotion back up and applying a little more to Sam's skin. “I'm the one with the bad knees, remember?”
Sam snorted and smiled, groaning as he felt his back becoming more and more pliant. “You've broken both of them, haven't you?”
“Na, just the one.” Dean waggled his left leg. “I don't recommend doing it.”
Sam let himself relax more as Dean's hands moved to his right side, which didn't hurt nearly as much as the left. “Why is it that I have so much back trouble?”
“Dunno, Sammy....I'm guessing it all has to do with you growing almost a foot in a month and a half when you were fourteen. Dad said they were growing pains when it started... don't you remember?”
Sam shook his head. “Fourteen was a long time ago...”
Dean chuckled. “Well, that was half a lifetime ago for you, little more actually.” He rubbed at Sam's waist. “Good thing you're not ticklish.”
“Yeah.” Sam closed his eyes contentedly, now that the pain was abating, it was starting to become more and more enjoyable. He never bothered to ask Dean where he learned to give such good massages. He let out another groan, though not in pain, as he felt Dean's thumbs working under his left shoulder blade and up to the space between it and his spine. “When did you go to South Carolina?”
“Huh?” Dean paused, rubbing another tender spot with his thumb.
“The shirt.” Sam had been able to read the shirt when Dean had gotten closer. “Beacon Drive-In in South Carolina.”
“I didn't go to South Carolina.... found this at the Goodwill couple of months ago...” Dean went back to working on the spot where Sam's neck and back met. “Woke up one day in June and realized almost all of my shirts had holes in them.”
“Never knew you to be fussy about that...” Sam let out another grunt as another muscle relaxed. “That felt good.”
“Felt like it felt good.” Dean chuckled, easing up on the deep massage and going back to soft rubbing. “Well, I also realized all the shirts I had were about four years old... and the ones that weren't holey had some stains I didn't want to explain to people.”
Sam knew that hitch in Dean's voice and knew it was time to change the subject. “I hate poltergeists.”
“Makes two of us.” Dean put a little more lotion on his hands and picked up Sam's left arm and started to work down it, feeling the tense muscles. “If you want to go ahead and go to sleep, it's okay. I promise I won't be offended - which is what I should be for you not telling me that your arms were bugging you too.”
“Dean...” Sam's retort was bitten off by a gasp and a grunt as an area in his bicep pulsated for a moment and then let go. “Not that... you know what happens when you...”
“We're not going there tonight, Sammy.” He kneaded his brother's fingers with slow deliberation. “Maybe in the morning.... you need to rest.” He slipped over Sam's legs to sit on his brother's side and worked on his right arm in the same manner.
Sam let out a non-committal grunt and turned his head to the side, letting out a few deep, even breaths. “Say Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean replied as he gently worked out a stubborn kink in his brother's palm.
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome.” He set down Sam's arm, leaned over and kissed the side of his face, just barely brushing the skin with his lips. “G'nite, little brother.”
Sam smiled and sank deeper into relaxation as Dean started rubbing his hand again. “Night, Dean.” He was deeply asleep when Dean pulled the covers back over him, tucking him in slightly before turning out the lamp and sliding under the bed-covers as well. He reached over with his hand, rubbing Sam's forehead with the same gentle motion he'd used on his palms. He fell asleep like that, with one hand outstretched, resting on his brother's neck, so that when Sam woke up the next morning, the first thing he felt was one of his most favorite things in the world.
His brother's bare skin against his.