(no subject)
Title: Run Away
Pairing: Wincest/Weecest (Sam 15, Dean 19)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Smoking, Hints of Teenage Sex
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author's Note: More angsty fluff. Wooo.
Summary: This is the first time that Dean wants to run away, and Sam has to convince him to stay.
They're pulled off onto some back road, miles of fields around them. Dean is shirtless, jeans undone, and leaning against the back seat while Sam is curled up next to him, head on his brother's chest. He's only fifteen, all smooth skin, muscle, and forming lines and indents that Dean has memorized with his mouth.
Smoke is curling from a cigarette between Dean's fingers, a new habit picked up from the crowd that he runs with at school. John would be furious if he knew, but then again, when is John ever around long enough to care? Dean takes a slow drag and exhales out the window. The tip's glow is the only light in the car, but Dean can make out the milkiness of Sam's bare thighs and the dark sprout of hair that angles between his hips.
"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam's eyes flutter open a little, looking up at the older boy.
"Nothin', you passed out so I was just here." Dean's lips wrap around the filter again, dragging the smoke deep into his chest.
"Sorry. You tired me out," Sam mumbles, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye, and sits up, "What time is it?"
"A little after two." More inhaling; more smoke.
"Did you want to head back soon? What if Dad comes home?" Sam leans his body into Dean's side, timidly kissing Dean's neck.
"Fuck Dad," Dean mutters, flicking his thumb.
"You don't mean that. I know you're mad at him for not taking you on this hunt, but I mean, come on. There will always be another hunt."
"Yeah Sam. There will always be another hunt, and soon enough, you'll be going with us," Dean replied bitterly.
"Man, that's what you want right? Family business shit you're always saying," Sam looks up at Dean from where he's leaning, unsure how to take this new side of his brother.
"Watch your mouth," Dean snaps before continuing, "And yeah, but shit happens out there. Bad shit. What am I gonna do if you get hurt?"
"Stitch me back up?" Sam laughs a little, "Rub some dirt in it?"
"Cut the crap, Sam. I'm being serious," Dean glances over at him, "If anything bad happened, really bad, then what would there be left? Me and Dad? Dad is gone all the time and if something happened to you, I'd be to blame. I'd be alone, all alone."
"You'd never let anything bad happen to me though," Sam tries to sooth, peppering kisses along Dean's shoulder and collarbone.
The younger Winchester's hand reaches out to take Dean's, and for once, he lets Sam. Any other time, Dean would berate Sam for being so girly. Turning, Dean gently reaches out and leans their foreheads together. It's a level intimacy that they rarely share without having Dean's body deep inside Sam's.
"Let's run away, Sammy. You and me. We have the car. We have enough cash to get us to the other side of the state by morning. Let's just go." Dean is nearly whimpering, and Sam is afraid that he sees tears in Dean's eyes.
"Dean. Dean, I don't," Sam whispers, reaching out to caress the skin behind Dean's ear, "I don't understand."
"You'd follow me right? If I took off, you'd come for me, Sammy? Cause man, I am really about to snap here."
"Of course," Sam doesn't even hesitate, "Of course I would. I've been following you around since I was two. That isn't going to change."
"Then let's go. No one would stop us. No one has to know," Dean coaxes, kissing Sam's mouth around his words. He tastes like smoke and beer and Sam's come that he licked off his brother's stomach and Sam barely swallows the moan burning to come out.
"You don't mean that," Sam pushes back enough to meet Dean's teary green eyes, frowning, "Dean, we were raised to help Dad and help people. We're suppose to be heroes. You love that."
"But Sammy-"
"No, no it's okay. It'll be okay Dean. You've been bandaging me up since I learned to crawl. If anything happens, I know you won't let me go," Sam kisses Dean's temple, "and I won't ever leave you. No matter what happens to us, I'll always find my way back to you."
Dean sniffles sharply, pulling away from Sam to rub the side of his hand under his nose. "Stop being such a chick," He coughs out, but there is no heat in the words.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam rolls his eyes, reaching for his pants.
"Sam," Dean gently grips the younger's shoulder, pulling him back, "Let's just lay here for a bit more, okay? I don't really want to go back yet."
Sam hides his smile and lets himself curl up against Dean's side again. They follow asleep soon after, perfect and complete with each other.
Pairing: Wincest/Weecest (Sam 15, Dean 19)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Smoking, Hints of Teenage Sex
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author's Note: More angsty fluff. Wooo.
Summary: This is the first time that Dean wants to run away, and Sam has to convince him to stay.
They're pulled off onto some back road, miles of fields around them. Dean is shirtless, jeans undone, and leaning against the back seat while Sam is curled up next to him, head on his brother's chest. He's only fifteen, all smooth skin, muscle, and forming lines and indents that Dean has memorized with his mouth.
Smoke is curling from a cigarette between Dean's fingers, a new habit picked up from the crowd that he runs with at school. John would be furious if he knew, but then again, when is John ever around long enough to care? Dean takes a slow drag and exhales out the window. The tip's glow is the only light in the car, but Dean can make out the milkiness of Sam's bare thighs and the dark sprout of hair that angles between his hips.
"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam's eyes flutter open a little, looking up at the older boy.
"Nothin', you passed out so I was just here." Dean's lips wrap around the filter again, dragging the smoke deep into his chest.
"Sorry. You tired me out," Sam mumbles, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye, and sits up, "What time is it?"
"A little after two." More inhaling; more smoke.
"Did you want to head back soon? What if Dad comes home?" Sam leans his body into Dean's side, timidly kissing Dean's neck.
"Fuck Dad," Dean mutters, flicking his thumb.
"You don't mean that. I know you're mad at him for not taking you on this hunt, but I mean, come on. There will always be another hunt."
"Yeah Sam. There will always be another hunt, and soon enough, you'll be going with us," Dean replied bitterly.
"Man, that's what you want right? Family business shit you're always saying," Sam looks up at Dean from where he's leaning, unsure how to take this new side of his brother.
"Watch your mouth," Dean snaps before continuing, "And yeah, but shit happens out there. Bad shit. What am I gonna do if you get hurt?"
"Stitch me back up?" Sam laughs a little, "Rub some dirt in it?"
"Cut the crap, Sam. I'm being serious," Dean glances over at him, "If anything bad happened, really bad, then what would there be left? Me and Dad? Dad is gone all the time and if something happened to you, I'd be to blame. I'd be alone, all alone."
"You'd never let anything bad happen to me though," Sam tries to sooth, peppering kisses along Dean's shoulder and collarbone.
The younger Winchester's hand reaches out to take Dean's, and for once, he lets Sam. Any other time, Dean would berate Sam for being so girly. Turning, Dean gently reaches out and leans their foreheads together. It's a level intimacy that they rarely share without having Dean's body deep inside Sam's.
"Let's run away, Sammy. You and me. We have the car. We have enough cash to get us to the other side of the state by morning. Let's just go." Dean is nearly whimpering, and Sam is afraid that he sees tears in Dean's eyes.
"Dean. Dean, I don't," Sam whispers, reaching out to caress the skin behind Dean's ear, "I don't understand."
"You'd follow me right? If I took off, you'd come for me, Sammy? Cause man, I am really about to snap here."
"Of course," Sam doesn't even hesitate, "Of course I would. I've been following you around since I was two. That isn't going to change."
"Then let's go. No one would stop us. No one has to know," Dean coaxes, kissing Sam's mouth around his words. He tastes like smoke and beer and Sam's come that he licked off his brother's stomach and Sam barely swallows the moan burning to come out.
"You don't mean that," Sam pushes back enough to meet Dean's teary green eyes, frowning, "Dean, we were raised to help Dad and help people. We're suppose to be heroes. You love that."
"But Sammy-"
"No, no it's okay. It'll be okay Dean. You've been bandaging me up since I learned to crawl. If anything happens, I know you won't let me go," Sam kisses Dean's temple, "and I won't ever leave you. No matter what happens to us, I'll always find my way back to you."
Dean sniffles sharply, pulling away from Sam to rub the side of his hand under his nose. "Stop being such a chick," He coughs out, but there is no heat in the words.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam rolls his eyes, reaching for his pants.
"Sam," Dean gently grips the younger's shoulder, pulling him back, "Let's just lay here for a bit more, okay? I don't really want to go back yet."
Sam hides his smile and lets himself curl up against Dean's side again. They follow asleep soon after, perfect and complete with each other.