Fic: Smear
Title: Smear
Fandom: Supernatural FPS
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Summary: There is still a smear of lipstick on Dean’s lips.
AN: Tag to 7.12
Sam rushes to Dean's side - he couldn't help a spark of jealousy when Sheriff Mills did that faster but hey, he had the God of Time to take care of first - and helps Dean sit up. Sam gives Dean a once over and cups his face.
"Are you okay?" Dean wasn't moving when he was thrown back to the present and Sam's been eaten up with worry.
Dean clears his throat, nodding slowly. "Y-yeah."
Recalling what Lila told him and Sheriff Mills, Sam tilts Dean's head up to check his neck and flinches at finger marks which have turned into dark bruises.
Dean waves off Sam's hands. "How'd you know?"
"Your letter. We went see Lila Taylor and she told us what Chronos did to you that night." He bites his lip. "You nearly died, Dean."
"Ssh, I'm okay, Samantha. Don't be such a girl." He glances at Sheriff Mills but Sam doesn't care if the President of the United States saw him clinging to the one he cares most.
But something else catches Sam's interest. He frowns. "Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?"
Sam scowls. "Is that - a lipstick smear on your lips?"
Dean shuffles back. "Umm, well…”
Sam jerks up to his feet, leaving a jaw-dropped Dean on the floor. Without saying anything he leaves to clear up things on the table. He ignores Sheriff Mills who’s staring at him with her eyebrows high on her forehead. He closes his laptop, gathers up the paper, and sighs and walks back to Dean, offering a hand and Dean accepts. Sam guides him to the blanket spread in the corner of the room and slowly sits him down. When he pulls back, Dean grabs his shirt.
"Sammy, it wasn't like that," he whispers.
"No, yeah, I trust you." Dean doesn't loosen his grip. "Dean, come on man. We'll talk later." He doesn't mind Sheriff Mills knows about them but he'd rather not be a spectacle at the moment.
"No, Sam, I need you. God, I freaked out, you know."
Dean rarely speaks his feeling openly but Sam guesses being thrown to another time and almost having his life choked out of him can really freak someone out.
"All right, Dean, relax. You're here now. I got you safe and sound." Sam hears Sheriff Mills leave the room and lets out breaths he didn't realize holding. He takes Dean's hand and slowly unfurls it from the front of his shirt. Dean complies. Sam sits on his heels and they lock gazes. Sam sighs.
"God, Dean, you have no idea how relieved I was to see you back." He doesn't wait for a response of any sort, promptly cupping the back of Dean's head and kisses him gently on the lips. He pours his desperation, longing, and naked relief into the kiss. He tastes Dean’s lingering fear and a girl's lipstick, but Sam ignores it. There is something he can't ignore, though. It's the tangy taste of blood. Sam feels his own blood boil and new rage bubbles inside of him. Fuming, he growls, pressing his forehead against Dean's.
"He beat you up, didn't he?"
"Nah. Just one punch. I'm fine, Sam, really."
Sam's still not satisfied. "I'll have to give you a thorough check later."
Dean's eyes light up. "Oh, I'd love that, Sammy."
Sam finally cracks. Grinning, he kisses the top of Dean's head. "What could I do without you?"
"Apart from growing calluses on your palm?" Dean smirks.
"You're incorrigible." Sam rises on his feet. "All right. Shut up now while I call Sheriff Mills back to the room.”
~~~
Fandom: Supernatural FPS
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Summary: There is still a smear of lipstick on Dean’s lips.
AN: Tag to 7.12
Sam rushes to Dean's side - he couldn't help a spark of jealousy when Sheriff Mills did that faster but hey, he had the God of Time to take care of first - and helps Dean sit up. Sam gives Dean a once over and cups his face.
"Are you okay?" Dean wasn't moving when he was thrown back to the present and Sam's been eaten up with worry.
Dean clears his throat, nodding slowly. "Y-yeah."
Recalling what Lila told him and Sheriff Mills, Sam tilts Dean's head up to check his neck and flinches at finger marks which have turned into dark bruises.
Dean waves off Sam's hands. "How'd you know?"
"Your letter. We went see Lila Taylor and she told us what Chronos did to you that night." He bites his lip. "You nearly died, Dean."
"Ssh, I'm okay, Samantha. Don't be such a girl." He glances at Sheriff Mills but Sam doesn't care if the President of the United States saw him clinging to the one he cares most.
But something else catches Sam's interest. He frowns. "Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?"
Sam scowls. "Is that - a lipstick smear on your lips?"
Dean shuffles back. "Umm, well…”
Sam jerks up to his feet, leaving a jaw-dropped Dean on the floor. Without saying anything he leaves to clear up things on the table. He ignores Sheriff Mills who’s staring at him with her eyebrows high on her forehead. He closes his laptop, gathers up the paper, and sighs and walks back to Dean, offering a hand and Dean accepts. Sam guides him to the blanket spread in the corner of the room and slowly sits him down. When he pulls back, Dean grabs his shirt.
"Sammy, it wasn't like that," he whispers.
"No, yeah, I trust you." Dean doesn't loosen his grip. "Dean, come on man. We'll talk later." He doesn't mind Sheriff Mills knows about them but he'd rather not be a spectacle at the moment.
"No, Sam, I need you. God, I freaked out, you know."
Dean rarely speaks his feeling openly but Sam guesses being thrown to another time and almost having his life choked out of him can really freak someone out.
"All right, Dean, relax. You're here now. I got you safe and sound." Sam hears Sheriff Mills leave the room and lets out breaths he didn't realize holding. He takes Dean's hand and slowly unfurls it from the front of his shirt. Dean complies. Sam sits on his heels and they lock gazes. Sam sighs.
"God, Dean, you have no idea how relieved I was to see you back." He doesn't wait for a response of any sort, promptly cupping the back of Dean's head and kisses him gently on the lips. He pours his desperation, longing, and naked relief into the kiss. He tastes Dean’s lingering fear and a girl's lipstick, but Sam ignores it. There is something he can't ignore, though. It's the tangy taste of blood. Sam feels his own blood boil and new rage bubbles inside of him. Fuming, he growls, pressing his forehead against Dean's.
"He beat you up, didn't he?"
"Nah. Just one punch. I'm fine, Sam, really."
Sam's still not satisfied. "I'll have to give you a thorough check later."
Dean's eyes light up. "Oh, I'd love that, Sammy."
Sam finally cracks. Grinning, he kisses the top of Dean's head. "What could I do without you?"
"Apart from growing calluses on your palm?" Dean smirks.
"You're incorrigible." Sam rises on his feet. "All right. Shut up now while I call Sheriff Mills back to the room.”
~~~