Nah, totally cool! (:helosthisshoeApril 19 2012, 18:05:31 UTC
Dean... [He gave him a look when he blatantly ignored the pills. Great. Now Dean'd probably be sullenly nursing that headache of his and... probably refusing to talk about- that, again.
He didn't know why it was so easy to keep falling back into this crap, why they always wound up like this... and why neither of them ever learned to avoid it.
Even when Sam didn't go to the bars with him, he'd had his drunk brother groping him and insisting more times than he could count and he'd still give in. If he were being honest, those were actually the best times. Sam at least experienced them with a clear head, could remember every touch and every kiss, and every word Dean said clearly.
Sam was disgusted too, not with the sex. More because he wasn't that bothered by it, wanted it. Hell, he went out of his way to try to get Dean's attention off any pretty girls around and back on him sometimes. How messed up was that?
Especially when it didn't take a genius to see Dean beating himself up after each time. A good brother wouldn't let it keep happening, adding more weight to their sibling's shoulders. They wouldn't put up a token protest at most and then give in.]
Dean, come on, take some. You'll feel better. [At least he could take care of him like this and play along, if that's what Dean wanted so bad.]
Don' wanna feel better, Sammy. [he said shortly, shutting his eyes and exhaling. Maybe it was childish, but he'd rather take the damn pain right now. Least he deserved.
But at the back of his mind was another, more pressing thought: Dean wanted to talk. Really talk about this shit, maybe - maybe even get it out in the open. He was shocked at himself, sure. But this wasn't some sudden urge -
He glanced up quickly, at Sam. Looking at him, and really taking him in. All his features, what he felt he saw in his eyes. Pity, probably... disgust at worst.] Huh.
[he looked away, clenching his hand against his knee, the other at his side. Tight fists because.. yeah. It's there. Even right now, when he feels like shit. That crawling heat, that feeling inside him that he just - wants him. Wants Sam, even if he can't really do anything right now. It's burning inside and avoiding it just makes this shit happen. He has to - fuck, he had to deal with this -] Uh... shower. I'll -
Dean.[This time there's an exasperated note to his voice and he can't decide if he'd really like to hit Dean over the head or just get up and find some excuse to step out for a bit before he says something he'll probably regret later.
He can't get himself to move though. He frowns, looking down and idly pushes a hand through his hair... it's a mess anyway and that probably just messes it up even more though.] Look... This isn't- any different from any other time, Dean. It won't happen again.
[It was all he could think to do, only thing to offer... but it's not the first time either one of them have said it and it'd happen again when they couldn't ignore it anymore.]
[he cuts his gaze sharply to his, ignoring that his head spins a little. Reeling at the sudden movement. Jesus, Sam! Can't you leave it alone?]
Damn right it's not gonna happen again. [he mutters, gathering up clothes - new ones, he's not nearly ready enough to tackle that pile on the floor after he saw just why they were sticking together! - and shakes his head.] Wait - my head's gonna split open, man - just. Lemme shower first.
[talk, he thought. They had to talk. This couldn't keep happening, and he meant it. This time, for sure.]
[For a minute, Sam works his mouth like he's going to talk again... and there's so much he wants to say, but eventually he just sighs and nods.] Yeah, alright...
[His head wouldn't be ready to split open if he'd taken the damn pain killers, but he bit back on saying that too.
Instead, he just shifted to lay back down, idly biting at his lower lip. He should apologize or something... maybe. He really didn't know how to handle this one.]
[he takes longer than he needs, because he's working out what to say in the messy, pained jumble of his mind. And even then - his mind goes blank when he's out of the shower - fully dressed because the last thing he needs is to have something else happen.
-- The way he's feeling right now, all wound up, tense... Dean knows he'll either snap at Sam, or want to fuck him again just to get rid. That, or Sam just had to give him one look and he'd want it. It was just safer to be dressed.]
Sammy, look - [he exhaled, then crossed over to where the clothes were, still. Forcing himself to look down, pick them up... movements jarred but he'd rather be doing this walk of shame.]
We need to - I need - fuck. M'so shit at this. [he mutters, angrily to himself. C'mon, Dean! Just say it.]
No, Dean... [He'd gotten up sometime while Dean was in the shower and slipped into a t-shirt at least... he needed a shower, bad, so there wasn't any sense in getting fully dressed yet.
Especially not when they'd made a mess of their clothes last night.
He looked up slowly, expression softening, sad.] I'm sorry, alright? It was my fault,what happened last night. I shouldn't have... I should have known better.
[Than to drink, than to drag Dean out with him... something.]
No -- Sammy, shut up a second. [his hand raises, eyes blowing a little wide. The fuck was he apologising for? Dean swallowed, feeling utterly low. He took in a sharp breath.] Let me speak, alright. Don't - when I'm finished you can... whatever.
It'll happen again. [he says this decisively, as much as to admit it to himself as announce and get it the Hell out into the open. Like they tend to avoid. Well, he tends to.] It'll happen 'cause... there's something - I mean. It's me. My fault, alright? Not you.
[he gives a helpless shrug. This was putting it lightly.] No point... thinkin' it's anything else, Sammy, so... [he breathes in.] I think maybe... we should, I should..
It's not gonna get better, Sammy. [he sighs, leaning to the chest of drawers behind him.] I think I should... you know. Stay away. [from him, them. Just for a little --] If I take a damn break - I don't know, be on my own for a while, maybe... [maybe he could figure shit out. If this was a phase, curable. Closest to therapy he'd get.]
You know what? You're such a hypocrite sometimes, Dean. [He couldn't help the edge of anger to his voice as he pushed himself to stand.] Every time I've left... every time, you're never above making me feel like shit for it, telling me how I'm making a mistake... how selfish I am-
And you know what else? Yeah, running away's been a mistake. I've paid for it every time, man... [He glared, scoffing a little.] But here you are, wanting to do the same?
Well, what if that doesn't work, Dean? Or do I write off ever seeing you again because you're scared of fucking me?
Hey -- [he starts to protest, both at Sam's suddenly standing in that state and what he says, because this? It's completely different.] Don't compare that to this, Sam - this is about -
[well, yeah. Him fucking him. Dean grit his teeth, glaring at him right back.] Don't say it so easy like that... you think I don't know what it is?
It's about what, Dean? I'm a grown man... you don't think I can handle myself or get you off... push you off if I really wanted?
[He was taller than Dean, had more muscle... and if Dean was smashed, he didn't think he'd be weak enough to not be able to take him if he really hated it that much.]
Why shouldn't I? We have sex, Dean... and I'm sick of pretending we don't or one of us or both of us having to be smashed to do it.
[He paused, taking in a ragged breath, trying to calm himself but it wasn't exactly working.]
And now you're gonna leave me for it. [God, that hurt to even say and it was even worse knowing he'd be alone, just left with stupid damn memories.] Nice, Dean...
Yeah, so why don't you? [he demands angrily, his voice higher than he'd meant. Sam brought up a damn good point here. But Dean wasn't so sure he wanted to know the answer. He stiffened at the blunt way he talked about it. Okay - this was a little too clearer than he wanted --] Sam... we shouldn't be. Please tell me you get that, at least?
He didn't know why it was so easy to keep falling back into this crap, why they always wound up like this... and why neither of them ever learned to avoid it.
Even when Sam didn't go to the bars with him, he'd had his drunk brother groping him and insisting more times than he could count and he'd still give in. If he were being honest, those were actually the best times. Sam at least experienced them with a clear head, could remember every touch and every kiss, and every word Dean said clearly.
Sam was disgusted too, not with the sex. More because he wasn't that bothered by it, wanted it. Hell, he went out of his way to try to get Dean's attention off any pretty girls around and back on him sometimes. How messed up was that?
Especially when it didn't take a genius to see Dean beating himself up after each time. A good brother wouldn't let it keep happening, adding more weight to their sibling's shoulders. They wouldn't put up a token protest at most and then give in.]
Dean, come on, take some. You'll feel better. [At least he could take care of him like this and play along, if that's what Dean wanted so bad.]
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But at the back of his mind was another, more pressing thought: Dean wanted to talk. Really talk about this shit, maybe - maybe even get it out in the open. He was shocked at himself, sure. But this wasn't some sudden urge -
He glanced up quickly, at Sam. Looking at him, and really taking him in. All his features, what he felt he saw in his eyes. Pity, probably... disgust at worst.] Huh.
[he looked away, clenching his hand against his knee, the other at his side. Tight fists because.. yeah. It's there. Even right now, when he feels like shit. That crawling heat, that feeling inside him that he just - wants him. Wants Sam, even if he can't really do anything right now. It's burning inside and avoiding it just makes this shit happen. He has to - fuck, he had to deal with this -] Uh... shower. I'll -
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He can't get himself to move though. He frowns, looking down and idly pushes a hand through his hair... it's a mess anyway and that probably just messes it up even more though.] Look... This isn't- any different from any other time, Dean. It won't happen again.
[It was all he could think to do, only thing to offer... but it's not the first time either one of them have said it and it'd happen again when they couldn't ignore it anymore.]
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Damn right it's not gonna happen again. [he mutters, gathering up clothes - new ones, he's not nearly ready enough to tackle that pile on the floor after he saw just why they were sticking together! - and shakes his head.] Wait - my head's gonna split open, man - just. Lemme shower first.
[talk, he thought. They had to talk. This couldn't keep happening, and he meant it. This time, for sure.]
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[His head wouldn't be ready to split open if he'd taken the damn pain killers, but he bit back on saying that too.
Instead, he just shifted to lay back down, idly biting at his lower lip. He should apologize or something... maybe. He really didn't know how to handle this one.]
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-- The way he's feeling right now, all wound up, tense... Dean knows he'll either snap at Sam, or want to fuck him again just to get rid. That, or Sam just had to give him one look and he'd want it. It was just safer to be dressed.]
Sammy, look - [he exhaled, then crossed over to where the clothes were, still. Forcing himself to look down, pick them up... movements jarred but he'd rather be doing this walk of shame.]
We need to - I need - fuck. M'so shit at this. [he mutters, angrily to himself. C'mon, Dean! Just say it.]
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Especially not when they'd made a mess of their clothes last night.
He looked up slowly, expression softening, sad.] I'm sorry, alright? It was my fault,what happened last night. I shouldn't have... I should have known better.
[Than to drink, than to drag Dean out with him... something.]
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[he gives a helpless shrug. This was putting it lightly.] No point... thinkin' it's anything else, Sammy, so... [he breathes in.] I think maybe... we should, I should..
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Wasn't sure he liked what they 'maybe should do' might be going.] Should what, Dean?
[He set his jaw, sitting up a bit.] Finish what you want to say.
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And you know what else? Yeah, running away's been a mistake. I've paid for it every time, man... [He glared, scoffing a little.] But here you are, wanting to do the same?
Well, what if that doesn't work, Dean? Or do I write off ever seeing you again because you're scared of fucking me?
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[well, yeah. Him fucking him. Dean grit his teeth, glaring at him right back.] Don't say it so easy like that... you think I don't know what it is?
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[He was taller than Dean, had more muscle... and if Dean was smashed, he didn't think he'd be weak enough to not be able to take him if he really hated it that much.]
Why shouldn't I? We have sex, Dean... and I'm sick of pretending we don't or one of us or both of us having to be smashed to do it.
[He paused, taking in a ragged breath, trying to calm himself but it wasn't exactly working.]
And now you're gonna leave me for it. [God, that hurt to even say and it was even worse knowing he'd be alone, just left with stupid damn memories.] Nice, Dean...
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