Fic: In Memoriam: June 1988 (SPN)
Supernatural; Winchesters, pre-series, G. Part of the In Memoriam collection of domestic fluff. By angstslashhope.
http://hope.oscillating.net/2007/02/19/fic-in-memoriam-june-1988/http://archiveofourown
http://hope.oscillating.net/2007/02/19/fic-in-memoriam-june-1988/http://archiveofourown
The boys are already barefoot, had hopped across the wavering tarmac hooting and yipping, and now they move through the scant undergrowth like little fawn-footed creatures, long legs and youth-thin limbs, stepping carefully and keeping their eye on him.
His grey, over-washed underpants sag a little, the elastic stretched out and the fabric non-coloured from too many mixed washes.
Dean's head pops up ahead of John, otter-slick; panting and chattering. “Cmon, Sammy,” he says, huffing laughter. “It’s cold, cmon!” He duck-dives back under, ass briefly bobbing up above the surface, denim of his faded cut-offs already soaked a deep blue.
“I can’t,” Sammy says, sounding miserable, and he fixes huge eyes on John’s face as John approaches, no longer flickering around to watch Dean’s gleeful cavorting. “I’ll get drownded.”
Another step, and then he’s got John’s hand in a fierce grip, pulling as if he’s trying to yank John closer.
Sam’s chest is shaking, rib cage shell vibrating against John’s hands as he grips under Sammy’s armpits, pulls him forward through the water. Sammy startles and mewls as the water washes over his chest, and wraps arms and legs around John the instant he’s close enough.
The backs of Sammy’s knees rest against one forearm, Sammy’s shoulders against the other, and Dean’s hands cup just behind Sammy’s head, barely touching.
John laughs softly and Sammy’s gaze darts back to him, expression desperately trusting.
“Don’t let go of me,” Sammy says, Dean’s hands cupping under his shoulders now and the muscles of his neck tight with holding his own head up.
Sammy screws his face shut, and they dip him under.
Just lovely.
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