(Just a quickie~ I hope you like it! ♥) :: FILLED :: Miscalculation :: Part One of Two
It was a miscalculation that saw Sam getting hurt. Dean's miscalculation.
He had gone through all the effort of wrapping his jacket around his first before he caved in the dated glass window for them to escape, but he had forgotten to check that Sam had ducked and protected himself.
The cuts were caused by thin slivers and shards of glass that ricocheted towards Sam's unsuspecting face, but with limited time to take any action because the whole idea of smashing the window was to get the hell out of there - and fast - Dean had to look at Sam all bloodied up for longer than he would have liked.
In the concern for his brother, Dean had misjudged the smashed glass himself on the way out and gouged a deep cut down his calf, but it didn't matter. The blood would congeal underneath the thick denim of his jeans, but Sam's face didn't have any immediate protection.
There were a series of small cuts, all slowly leaking with blood. Some were barely pooling but others had blood that dripped down his face and was caught at his brow or neck. Dean made haste as he drove them back to their motel of the week, wanting to be as far away from that house as possible.
As Dean eventually ushered Sam into the motel room, he furrowed his eyebrows, one hand on the small of Sam's back and the other reaching towards his duffel as they stepped inside.
“Sit.” He instructed, leaving Sam alone for the barest of seconds as he moved into the bathroom and returned with a slightly dampened washcloth and a towel.
Sam's lips turned into a smile and he shook his head softly reaching up to brush his fingertips across a sore spot just to the right of his mouth. “We managed to get outta that one, didn't we?”
Dean refused to answer and instead flicked open their first aid kit, his fingers settling on the bottle of hydrogen peroxide that they always carried.
“Think there's any glass in there, Sammy?” He asked softly, concern just starting to creep into his tone.
Sam shrugged and shifted his fingers to brush across another cut, one just above his eyebrow. “I don't think - ow!”
The bottle was set down alongside the gauze pads and Dean reached to Sam's wrist, holding it still as he carefully glanced down towards Sam's face. He didn't want to start poking and prodding because his ministrations would probably make the whole situation worse. There seemed to be a glint in that cut though, just above his eyebrow.
“Damn it,” Dean cursed and took a deep breath before he moved back to the kit to retrieve the tweezers. He trusted his eyesight well enough to forego worrying about needing any magnifying equipment.
His heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking ever so slightly from the adrenaline that still pulsed through his veins, but Dean knew he would be able to hold still enough to complete the task at hand. He wouldn't go prodding deeply inside Sam's grazes, but where the glass was obviously visible, he would go in for the kill.
“Hey,” Sam murmured as Dean hovered above him, “don't worry too much. We did good, this is just...” he waved a hand towards his face and then settled it softly to rest on Dean's hip, fingers lightly ducking into his waistband, “minor.”
Dean shook his head, unable to keep a straight face as he glanced into Sam's eyes instead of the cuts themselves and found happiness within them. His brother was amused rather than disheartened, and Dean sighed softly. “Still gotta do this.”
His hands were clean as he bent slightly to get a good view of Sam's injuries. There were no serious wounds, nothing to cause serious scarring and definitely none requiring stitches, but he might have to have a butterfly bandage or two. Just for a few days.
The overhead light next to the bed was tilted just enough to shine directly down on Sam, so Dean followed the beam with the tweezers, pulling the wound open slightly with one hand to allow easier access. The sliver of glass came away in an easy glide, and Sam barely flinched.
Dean carefully grazed across Sam's face with his fingertips, using his brother's slight winces as indication that there may be glass still imbedded. He managed to pluck away another few flecks of glass, but he was satisfied that there was little he - or anybody else - could do.
“Thank you.” Sam nodded before Dean could even state that he was finished with his inspection.
All Sam wanted was for Dean to stop causing his body to tingle by touching so softly and carefully. He wanted those fingers perhaps linked through his instead of grazing over his injuries, and more certainly than that, he just wanted to sleep.
Dean still needed to clean the dried blood from Sam's skin, but he did that carefully, dabbing at the blood with the damp washcloth and then drying it with the towel, taking care not to disturb the small flecks of injury that Sam had covering his face. The one above Sam's eyebrow was notably the worst, and Dean acknowledged it with an even gentler touch and then three small butterfly bandages to hold it together. It probably wasn't even strictly necessary, but he thought it was apt. It made him feel useful.
“There.” Dean smiled, letting out a huff of a breath as he scanned across Sam's face and knew that the small imperfections did not obscure his gorgeous features even one bit. It still felt strange sometimes, to be looking at his brother with such love and desire, but he couldn't help it. Sam was just so... Sam. “How's that feel?” He asked, clearing his throat.
He watched as Sam twitched his nose, tugging at his face slightly before nodding in satisfaction.
“Feels great. Thanks.”
Dean smiled, the action lighting his eyes and causing faint lines to tug at the corners of them. He acknowledged his tiredness at that moment and sank down onto the bed next to Sam, their thighs pressed close together.
“Sorry about that,” Dean spoke softly, tilting his head to glance towards Sam, the whiteness of the butterfly stitches glaringly stark against his skin, “should've told you to duck.”
Sam snorted a laugh and shook his head, his smile bright and barely restrained. “No worries. We were in a hurry, getting a few nicks comes with the territory.”
Dean considered it for a few moments and then nodded, “guess you're right. I'm going to shower, that alright?”
Sam shrugged and smiled again, motioning towards the bathroom as permission. “Go ahead.”
It was amusing to Dean because he could feel it bubbling beneath him, that in a moment he would be kissing Sam and all of his worries would just dissipate.
“Alrighty then,” he nodded and pressed up to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head and then turning to Sam still seated on the edge of the bed. He ducked down, ironic really, and lingered just there for a moment.
He glanced into Sam's eyes and knew Sam was doing the same straight back at him. They smiled, and it was like something out of a freakin' romance novel. Dean didn't care and very lightly pressed his lips to Sam's forehead, trailing down to carefully leave one next to his eyebrow. It probably wasn't sensible to have his lips where he had just dotted Sam with cleaning solution, but it still felt nice. “Ok,” he whispered softly, leaving just one more kiss on Sam's lips before he pulled away. “Shower.”
Sam nodded, smiling softly. He felt so warm and comfortable right there, and he would wait awake until he could curl up in Dean's arms and call it a night.
:: FILLED :: Miscalculation :: Part One of Two
It was a miscalculation that saw Sam getting hurt. Dean's miscalculation.
He had gone through all the effort of wrapping his jacket around his first before he caved in the dated glass window for them to escape, but he had forgotten to check that Sam had ducked and protected himself.
The cuts were caused by thin slivers and shards of glass that ricocheted towards Sam's unsuspecting face, but with limited time to take any action because the whole idea of smashing the window was to get the hell out of there - and fast - Dean had to look at Sam all bloodied up for longer than he would have liked.
In the concern for his brother, Dean had misjudged the smashed glass himself on the way out and gouged a deep cut down his calf, but it didn't matter. The blood would congeal underneath the thick denim of his jeans, but Sam's face didn't have any immediate protection.
There were a series of small cuts, all slowly leaking with blood. Some were barely pooling but others had blood that dripped down his face and was caught at his brow or neck. Dean made haste as he drove them back to their motel of the week, wanting to be as far away from that house as possible.
As Dean eventually ushered Sam into the motel room, he furrowed his eyebrows, one hand on the small of Sam's back and the other reaching towards his duffel as they stepped inside.
“Sit.” He instructed, leaving Sam alone for the barest of seconds as he moved into the bathroom and returned with a slightly dampened washcloth and a towel.
Sam's lips turned into a smile and he shook his head softly reaching up to brush his fingertips across a sore spot just to the right of his mouth. “We managed to get outta that one, didn't we?”
Dean refused to answer and instead flicked open their first aid kit, his fingers settling on the bottle of hydrogen peroxide that they always carried.
“Think there's any glass in there, Sammy?” He asked softly, concern just starting to creep into his tone.
Sam shrugged and shifted his fingers to brush across another cut, one just above his eyebrow. “I don't think - ow!”
The bottle was set down alongside the gauze pads and Dean reached to Sam's wrist, holding it still as he carefully glanced down towards Sam's face. He didn't want to start poking and prodding because his ministrations would probably make the whole situation worse. There seemed to be a glint in that cut though, just above his eyebrow.
“Damn it,” Dean cursed and took a deep breath before he moved back to the kit to retrieve the tweezers. He trusted his eyesight well enough to forego worrying about needing any magnifying equipment.
His heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking ever so slightly from the adrenaline that still pulsed through his veins, but Dean knew he would be able to hold still enough to complete the task at hand. He wouldn't go prodding deeply inside Sam's grazes, but where the glass was obviously visible, he would go in for the kill.
“Hey,” Sam murmured as Dean hovered above him, “don't worry too much. We did good, this is just...” he waved a hand towards his face and then settled it softly to rest on Dean's hip, fingers lightly ducking into his waistband, “minor.”
Dean shook his head, unable to keep a straight face as he glanced into Sam's eyes instead of the cuts themselves and found happiness within them. His brother was amused rather than disheartened, and Dean sighed softly. “Still gotta do this.”
His hands were clean as he bent slightly to get a good view of Sam's injuries. There were no serious wounds, nothing to cause serious scarring and definitely none requiring stitches, but he might have to have a butterfly bandage or two. Just for a few days.
The overhead light next to the bed was tilted just enough to shine directly down on Sam, so Dean followed the beam with the tweezers, pulling the wound open slightly with one hand to allow easier access. The sliver of glass came away in an easy glide, and Sam barely flinched.
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Dean carefully grazed across Sam's face with his fingertips, using his brother's slight winces as indication that there may be glass still imbedded. He managed to pluck away another few flecks of glass, but he was satisfied that there was little he - or anybody else - could do.
“Thank you.” Sam nodded before Dean could even state that he was finished with his inspection.
All Sam wanted was for Dean to stop causing his body to tingle by touching so softly and carefully. He wanted those fingers perhaps linked through his instead of grazing over his injuries, and more certainly than that, he just wanted to sleep.
Dean still needed to clean the dried blood from Sam's skin, but he did that carefully, dabbing at the blood with the damp washcloth and then drying it with the towel, taking care not to disturb the small flecks of injury that Sam had covering his face. The one above Sam's eyebrow was notably the worst, and Dean acknowledged it with an even gentler touch and then three small butterfly bandages to hold it together. It probably wasn't even strictly necessary, but he thought it was apt. It made him feel useful.
“There.” Dean smiled, letting out a huff of a breath as he scanned across Sam's face and knew that the small imperfections did not obscure his gorgeous features even one bit. It still felt strange sometimes, to be looking at his brother with such love and desire, but he couldn't help it. Sam was just so... Sam. “How's that feel?” He asked, clearing his throat.
He watched as Sam twitched his nose, tugging at his face slightly before nodding in satisfaction.
“Feels great. Thanks.”
Dean smiled, the action lighting his eyes and causing faint lines to tug at the corners of them. He acknowledged his tiredness at that moment and sank down onto the bed next to Sam, their thighs pressed close together.
“Sorry about that,” Dean spoke softly, tilting his head to glance towards Sam, the whiteness of the butterfly stitches glaringly stark against his skin, “should've told you to duck.”
Sam snorted a laugh and shook his head, his smile bright and barely restrained. “No worries. We were in a hurry, getting a few nicks comes with the territory.”
Dean considered it for a few moments and then nodded, “guess you're right. I'm going to shower, that alright?”
Sam shrugged and smiled again, motioning towards the bathroom as permission. “Go ahead.”
It was amusing to Dean because he could feel it bubbling beneath him, that in a moment he would be kissing Sam and all of his worries would just dissipate.
“Alrighty then,” he nodded and pressed up to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head and then turning to Sam still seated on the edge of the bed. He ducked down, ironic really, and lingered just there for a moment.
He glanced into Sam's eyes and knew Sam was doing the same straight back at him. They smiled, and it was like something out of a freakin' romance novel. Dean didn't care and very lightly pressed his lips to Sam's forehead, trailing down to carefully leave one next to his eyebrow. It probably wasn't sensible to have his lips where he had just dotted Sam with cleaning solution, but it still felt nice. “Ok,” he whispered softly, leaving just one more kiss on Sam's lips before he pulled away. “Shower.”
Sam nodded, smiling softly. He felt so warm and comfortable right there, and he would wait awake until he could curl up in Dean's arms and call it a night.
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♥ so incredibly sweet and soft and perfect. love love loooove
Thank you!!
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