fic: you who demolish me
you who demolish me
Supernatural; Sam and Dean; pg-13; 700 words
It's addicting, and Sam wants more of it, all the time.
Thanks to familiardevil for looking it over.
~*~
i.
Dean loves women--pretty much all of them. He loves the feel of their lips brushing his ear, their bodies pressing close to him, they way they squeeze around him when he fucks them. He loves picking them up at bars or movies or strip malls, fucking them in the car or the alley or the ladies' room, even if it means he ends up speeding into the town where he's supposed to meet Dad, a couple hours late, exhausted and wearing three-day-old clothes. He flirts with waitresses, and Dad glares at him, but Dean can't help it.
ii.
They never had enough food as kids, which is probably why Dean eats so much. When Dad was away, they fell into a vicious feast-or-famine cycle: nothing but dry, stale cereal and undercooked ramen noodles for days; when Dean was older and working (and stealing from the convenience store to 'supplement his paycheck'), he'd made sure Sammy ate as much as he wanted.
Once, in Ohio, there was a 'buy one, get one free' deal on pies at a diner. Cherry pie was his favorite, and a rare treat on the road, especially when it was in season.
iii.
It's addicting, and Sam wants more of it, all the time. He's hooked from the first taste, and once he can't fight the urge anymore, he's like a junkie, jonesing for his next fix. Ruby squirms under the blade of the knife, recoiling a little when the silver marks a thin line into her arm.
The blood is warm and salty and coppery in his mouth, the sweet taste of it making his head spin, his pulse throb.
Dean would be fucking furious, but right now, with Ruby laid out in front of him, Sam can't resist what she's offering.
iv.
Sam sleeps for a week after Dean goes to hell. He dreams, and the images are more vivid than anything he's ever dreamt. Jess is there; when he runs across the open field to reach her, to hold her in his arms again, she fades into nothingness. He jolts awake to the insistent pounding on the door.
He tosses the manager another couple hundred bucks, shuts the door, and lets himself believe, momentarily, that he was dreaming and Dean is out getting food. Sam runs a hand over his face, scratching at his almost-beard, and gets back into bed.
v.
Sam's always had a temper. "Just like Dad," Dean had said once, and Sam tried to get a punch in before Dean knocked him over. No one would suspect it, not with his sad eyes and wide smile, but when Sam's mad, he's liable to fly off the handle. They've had to check out of a few motels in the middle of the night after Sam punched a hole in the thin wall. He's smashed lamps, traded his fair share of injuries with Dean, because even when he tried to tamp it down, anger always got the better of him.
vi.
He's gotten his fair share of punches from guys who didn't appreciate Dean hitting on their girlfriends or wives (or daughters; those punches were always the worst). It's about more than just wanting women he can't have, though. He'd always wanted his family together, to keep Sam safe; he could never admit it, but he knew he'd never really be able to do either, no matter how hard he tried. He tried to keep Sam from going to college, promised him everything, but they both knew Dean had been lying. Sam went away, got his shot at a normal life.
vii.
Sam's done some things to be proud of (getting a full ride to Stanford, keeping a 3.8 GPA there and working most nights), but there are a lot of things he isn't proud of. He's broken at least two laws in almost every state (Dean used to keep a tally of how many, but stopped after Dad died), and not anything archaic or stupid, either. He's saved people, yeah, but people have died because of him, and he fucked a demon.
Bringing on the apocalypse, though--that's something that'd horrify Dad, and Sam's probably more ashamed of it than anything.
Supernatural; Sam and Dean; pg-13; 700 words
It's addicting, and Sam wants more of it, all the time.
Thanks to familiardevil for looking it over.
~*~
i.
Dean loves women--pretty much all of them. He loves the feel of their lips brushing his ear, their bodies pressing close to him, they way they squeeze around him when he fucks them. He loves picking them up at bars or movies or strip malls, fucking them in the car or the alley or the ladies' room, even if it means he ends up speeding into the town where he's supposed to meet Dad, a couple hours late, exhausted and wearing three-day-old clothes. He flirts with waitresses, and Dad glares at him, but Dean can't help it.
ii.
They never had enough food as kids, which is probably why Dean eats so much. When Dad was away, they fell into a vicious feast-or-famine cycle: nothing but dry, stale cereal and undercooked ramen noodles for days; when Dean was older and working (and stealing from the convenience store to 'supplement his paycheck'), he'd made sure Sammy ate as much as he wanted.
Once, in Ohio, there was a 'buy one, get one free' deal on pies at a diner. Cherry pie was his favorite, and a rare treat on the road, especially when it was in season.
iii.
It's addicting, and Sam wants more of it, all the time. He's hooked from the first taste, and once he can't fight the urge anymore, he's like a junkie, jonesing for his next fix. Ruby squirms under the blade of the knife, recoiling a little when the silver marks a thin line into her arm.
The blood is warm and salty and coppery in his mouth, the sweet taste of it making his head spin, his pulse throb.
Dean would be fucking furious, but right now, with Ruby laid out in front of him, Sam can't resist what she's offering.
iv.
Sam sleeps for a week after Dean goes to hell. He dreams, and the images are more vivid than anything he's ever dreamt. Jess is there; when he runs across the open field to reach her, to hold her in his arms again, she fades into nothingness. He jolts awake to the insistent pounding on the door.
He tosses the manager another couple hundred bucks, shuts the door, and lets himself believe, momentarily, that he was dreaming and Dean is out getting food. Sam runs a hand over his face, scratching at his almost-beard, and gets back into bed.
v.
Sam's always had a temper. "Just like Dad," Dean had said once, and Sam tried to get a punch in before Dean knocked him over. No one would suspect it, not with his sad eyes and wide smile, but when Sam's mad, he's liable to fly off the handle. They've had to check out of a few motels in the middle of the night after Sam punched a hole in the thin wall. He's smashed lamps, traded his fair share of injuries with Dean, because even when he tried to tamp it down, anger always got the better of him.
vi.
He's gotten his fair share of punches from guys who didn't appreciate Dean hitting on their girlfriends or wives (or daughters; those punches were always the worst). It's about more than just wanting women he can't have, though. He'd always wanted his family together, to keep Sam safe; he could never admit it, but he knew he'd never really be able to do either, no matter how hard he tried. He tried to keep Sam from going to college, promised him everything, but they both knew Dean had been lying. Sam went away, got his shot at a normal life.
vii.
Sam's done some things to be proud of (getting a full ride to Stanford, keeping a 3.8 GPA there and working most nights), but there are a lot of things he isn't proud of. He's broken at least two laws in almost every state (Dean used to keep a tally of how many, but stopped after Dad died), and not anything archaic or stupid, either. He's saved people, yeah, but people have died because of him, and he fucked a demon.
Bringing on the apocalypse, though--that's something that'd horrify Dad, and Sam's probably more ashamed of it than anything.