Spn fic:-Mirror Image
Summary:
In the bathroom, Sam's putting the final touches to his FBI get-up, to go interview some witnesses. But when Dean's around things always get complicated.
Sam gave the tie a final tweak and adjusted down the collar of his shirt.
Satisfied, he passed a comb though his unruly hair until with a final evaluative glance in the motel's speckled mirror, he decided he was done.
His own face stared back at him and Sam paused.
The younger Winchester had never given much importance to his looks, Dean was the mirror-hogger in their two man family but he knew he was attractive enough. Jess and a string of lovers, including a very short-term wife, had all told him so.
The reflection in the mirror smiled back with a wry curl of its lip.
'You're still presentable, dude,' it seemed to say, 'but the years have left their mark. You're no longer the floppy haired kid you once were. Soon you'll be a doddery old man Sam, that is if Billie doesn't get to reap you first and send you off on a one-way ticket to the Empty'.
The memory of the reaper's words resounded in Sam's chest with dread.
The next time a Winchester died there would be no resurrection, no spell or other gimmick to save them. There would be no heaven or hell, just the Empty, this mysterious unheard of dimension of which Sam hadn't been able to find any mention in the myriad of books and documents the bunker contained. And he'd searched, fuck if he'd searched!
To complicate his uneasiness was the fact that he hadn't told Dean about the reaper's threat.
Though he was well aware that the inbred Winchester habit of keeping their sibling in the dark inevitably brought trouble raining down on them, Sam just hadn't been able to add this further burden to Dean's concern over Amara and the Darkness.
Nervously his hands went to fidget again with the tie. Trouble was, the longer a secret was kept the more difficult it was to come clean, and the more pissed Dean would be when Sam eventually had to spill.
“Hey, princess!“ Dean's voice resounded impatient from the bathroom door “You finished curling your eye-lashes yet? We got witnesses to to talk to.”
Sam's eyes focused on the mirror where he could see Dean's face reflected behind his own, but just as he could see Dean's, Dean could see Sam's.
The elder Winchester recognised every muscle twitch on Sam's face, he'd been looking at it since he was four years old.
Sam was brooding and Dean had no problem in believing his baby brother was mulling over something, probably a something he didn't want his big brother to know about.
But if it wasn't gonna kill them in the short term, he knew Sam would eventually share, just like he had about having been infected by the demon virus.
He'd blurt it out when he couldn't take the pressure of keeping quiet any longer.
Before Sam could turn, Dean closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around the younger man's chest pulling him close.
“You find a zit on that pretty face of yours, Sammy?” he teased. “That why you're frowning, huh?”
Sam huffed his denial but leaned back into his brother's hold.
Dean's face reflected itself in the mirror next to Sam's own, like some living photograph of them both, caught in the small frame.
“Don't fret, Sammy. You're still a hot piece of ass.” And as if to prove his words, the older man lowered his right hand to fondle said ass that the FBI suit covered but did nothing to hide!
“Dean!”
“Non that I don't appreciate the view,” Dean continued unperturbed in his tactile exploration of his sibling's butt. “But either you've put on weight or those pants have shrunk. Either way I'm kinda jealous folk are gonna be staring at that fine ass.”
“For crying out loud, don't go all medieval on me. You know it pisses me off.” Sam retorted peeved.
Still framed in the mirror over his little brother's shoulder, Dean's reflection cracked a smile.
“I can't help it if I'm possessive of you, man. And you can roll those pretty eyes all you want, it don't change a thing. I'm through denying how I feel about you, Sammy.”
Dean knew he'd broken just about every chick-flick rule he'd lived by since he and Sam had upped their relationship to include sex, but he loved his baby brother in every way a sibling should, and in every way a sibling shouldn't. And sometimes the sheer force of that emotion turned him into a girl, a bad-ass, awesome girl, but a girl nonetheless, and the possessive jealousy that flared up when admiring eyes rested on Sam's tall figure was all part of the deal.
His eyes were still teasing as he studied Sam's face.
“Tell me the truth, dude. Aren't you just a little bit jealous when my host of admirers check out this fine body, huh? All those waitresses that would like nothing better than a quick hump behind the trash cans in the back alley. Just like it used to be before I downsized to your gigantor body?”
“What's with you, Dean? “ Sam bitched trying to disentangle himself from his brother's hold. “I'd so rather not be having this conversation. We've got a hunt to work. Let's go.”
But Dean could be just as stubborn as his younger sibling and he held on tight to his struggling brother. Sam might be a few inches taller but Dean was just as strong, if not stronger.
“I'm not letting you go until you answer my question, Sammy. Are you jealous of me or not?”
Sam kept up the struggle for a few more minutes but Dean's arms were like two pistons around his chest. Add to the fact that he was starting to sweat and he didn't want to have to take another shower before presenting himself to the witnesses.
This time he'd let Dean have the upper hand.
“Yeah, I'm jealous of you too. Satisfied?”
“Tell me more.” Dean released a toothy grin at the words.
Sam sighed. “Just because I don't jump on people who lust after you, doesn't mean I'm not pissed. I cover better than you, is all.”
As he finished speaking, Dean's arms dropped away, only to grip Sam's upper arms and whirl him around.
He cupped the back of his Sam's neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
Sam felt the familiar debilitating sweetness flow through his body at the touch of Dean's lips. He wondered if Dean experienced the same sensation but when his brother drew back, the green eyes were lush with desire and Sam had his answer.
“There's nothing more I'd like to do than fuck you right here right now, but we gotta go,” Dean said regretfully. “But when we get back.....”
Sam didn't need to hear any more. He smiled, smoothed down his hair and followed Dean out of the room.
In the bathroom, Sam's putting the final touches to his FBI get-up, to go interview some witnesses. But when Dean's around things always get complicated.
Sam gave the tie a final tweak and adjusted down the collar of his shirt.
Satisfied, he passed a comb though his unruly hair until with a final evaluative glance in the motel's speckled mirror, he decided he was done.
His own face stared back at him and Sam paused.
The younger Winchester had never given much importance to his looks, Dean was the mirror-hogger in their two man family but he knew he was attractive enough. Jess and a string of lovers, including a very short-term wife, had all told him so.
The reflection in the mirror smiled back with a wry curl of its lip.
'You're still presentable, dude,' it seemed to say, 'but the years have left their mark. You're no longer the floppy haired kid you once were. Soon you'll be a doddery old man Sam, that is if Billie doesn't get to reap you first and send you off on a one-way ticket to the Empty'.
The memory of the reaper's words resounded in Sam's chest with dread.
The next time a Winchester died there would be no resurrection, no spell or other gimmick to save them. There would be no heaven or hell, just the Empty, this mysterious unheard of dimension of which Sam hadn't been able to find any mention in the myriad of books and documents the bunker contained. And he'd searched, fuck if he'd searched!
To complicate his uneasiness was the fact that he hadn't told Dean about the reaper's threat.
Though he was well aware that the inbred Winchester habit of keeping their sibling in the dark inevitably brought trouble raining down on them, Sam just hadn't been able to add this further burden to Dean's concern over Amara and the Darkness.
Nervously his hands went to fidget again with the tie. Trouble was, the longer a secret was kept the more difficult it was to come clean, and the more pissed Dean would be when Sam eventually had to spill.
“Hey, princess!“ Dean's voice resounded impatient from the bathroom door “You finished curling your eye-lashes yet? We got witnesses to to talk to.”
Sam's eyes focused on the mirror where he could see Dean's face reflected behind his own, but just as he could see Dean's, Dean could see Sam's.
The elder Winchester recognised every muscle twitch on Sam's face, he'd been looking at it since he was four years old.
Sam was brooding and Dean had no problem in believing his baby brother was mulling over something, probably a something he didn't want his big brother to know about.
But if it wasn't gonna kill them in the short term, he knew Sam would eventually share, just like he had about having been infected by the demon virus.
He'd blurt it out when he couldn't take the pressure of keeping quiet any longer.
Before Sam could turn, Dean closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around the younger man's chest pulling him close.
“You find a zit on that pretty face of yours, Sammy?” he teased. “That why you're frowning, huh?”
Sam huffed his denial but leaned back into his brother's hold.
Dean's face reflected itself in the mirror next to Sam's own, like some living photograph of them both, caught in the small frame.
“Don't fret, Sammy. You're still a hot piece of ass.” And as if to prove his words, the older man lowered his right hand to fondle said ass that the FBI suit covered but did nothing to hide!
“Dean!”
“Non that I don't appreciate the view,” Dean continued unperturbed in his tactile exploration of his sibling's butt. “But either you've put on weight or those pants have shrunk. Either way I'm kinda jealous folk are gonna be staring at that fine ass.”
“For crying out loud, don't go all medieval on me. You know it pisses me off.” Sam retorted peeved.
Still framed in the mirror over his little brother's shoulder, Dean's reflection cracked a smile.
“I can't help it if I'm possessive of you, man. And you can roll those pretty eyes all you want, it don't change a thing. I'm through denying how I feel about you, Sammy.”
Dean knew he'd broken just about every chick-flick rule he'd lived by since he and Sam had upped their relationship to include sex, but he loved his baby brother in every way a sibling should, and in every way a sibling shouldn't. And sometimes the sheer force of that emotion turned him into a girl, a bad-ass, awesome girl, but a girl nonetheless, and the possessive jealousy that flared up when admiring eyes rested on Sam's tall figure was all part of the deal.
His eyes were still teasing as he studied Sam's face.
“Tell me the truth, dude. Aren't you just a little bit jealous when my host of admirers check out this fine body, huh? All those waitresses that would like nothing better than a quick hump behind the trash cans in the back alley. Just like it used to be before I downsized to your gigantor body?”
“What's with you, Dean? “ Sam bitched trying to disentangle himself from his brother's hold. “I'd so rather not be having this conversation. We've got a hunt to work. Let's go.”
But Dean could be just as stubborn as his younger sibling and he held on tight to his struggling brother. Sam might be a few inches taller but Dean was just as strong, if not stronger.
“I'm not letting you go until you answer my question, Sammy. Are you jealous of me or not?”
Sam kept up the struggle for a few more minutes but Dean's arms were like two pistons around his chest. Add to the fact that he was starting to sweat and he didn't want to have to take another shower before presenting himself to the witnesses.
This time he'd let Dean have the upper hand.
“Yeah, I'm jealous of you too. Satisfied?”
“Tell me more.” Dean released a toothy grin at the words.
Sam sighed. “Just because I don't jump on people who lust after you, doesn't mean I'm not pissed. I cover better than you, is all.”
As he finished speaking, Dean's arms dropped away, only to grip Sam's upper arms and whirl him around.
He cupped the back of his Sam's neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
Sam felt the familiar debilitating sweetness flow through his body at the touch of Dean's lips. He wondered if Dean experienced the same sensation but when his brother drew back, the green eyes were lush with desire and Sam had his answer.
“There's nothing more I'd like to do than fuck you right here right now, but we gotta go,” Dean said regretfully. “But when we get back.....”
Sam didn't need to hear any more. He smiled, smoothed down his hair and followed Dean out of the room.