Freckle-Words
Freckle-Words
“Just think happy thoughts Sammy.”
Sam sighed as he looked at his brother. “This isn’t Peter Pan Dean. Pixie dust doesn’t make you fly.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m feeling a little like flying right now.” The grin was pure mischief and come hither and everything it shouldn’t be when pointed at his brother.
Sam sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he blew up at his brother. “Dean…” And when he opened his eyes there were only freckles. He was aware that there must be more of Dean there than those freckles but it’s all he could focus on.
“Freckles.” Sam said, reached out and pulling them closer. He brought his lips to the freckles at the bridge of his nose, needed to taste them, to count them with his tongue and play connect the dots to see what sort of message they spelled out for him, certain that Dean was telling him something with them.
“Hair.” Dean said, his hands locking onto the back of Sam’s head, fingers intertwining with it, tugging lightly to make him groan.
He didn’t know when he’d started rolling his hips against his brother or who had started it, but when he came it was on the epiphany of Dean’s freckle-words.
He looked up, eyes wide as the pixie dust seemed to wear off, Dean’s expression no less shocked than his own, but his hands not leaving Sam’s hair any more than Sam’s fingers were pulling away from those freckles.
He took a deep breath, thinking only of the freckle-words and since his mind seemed to be stuck there he answered it. “I love you too.”
“Just think happy thoughts Sammy.”
Sam sighed as he looked at his brother. “This isn’t Peter Pan Dean. Pixie dust doesn’t make you fly.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m feeling a little like flying right now.” The grin was pure mischief and come hither and everything it shouldn’t be when pointed at his brother.
Sam sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he blew up at his brother. “Dean…” And when he opened his eyes there were only freckles. He was aware that there must be more of Dean there than those freckles but it’s all he could focus on.
“Freckles.” Sam said, reached out and pulling them closer. He brought his lips to the freckles at the bridge of his nose, needed to taste them, to count them with his tongue and play connect the dots to see what sort of message they spelled out for him, certain that Dean was telling him something with them.
“Hair.” Dean said, his hands locking onto the back of Sam’s head, fingers intertwining with it, tugging lightly to make him groan.
He didn’t know when he’d started rolling his hips against his brother or who had started it, but when he came it was on the epiphany of Dean’s freckle-words.
He looked up, eyes wide as the pixie dust seemed to wear off, Dean’s expression no less shocked than his own, but his hands not leaving Sam’s hair any more than Sam’s fingers were pulling away from those freckles.
He took a deep breath, thinking only of the freckle-words and since his mind seemed to be stuck there he answered it. “I love you too.”