Protection Symbols (1/1)
Summary: Sometimes you need the darkness to learn new things.
Written for a prompt onspn_kinkmeme: Dean absentmindedly tracing protective sigils on Sam’s skin.
Warning: (VERY) vaguely implied incest, spoilers for S3.
----
Sam wordlessly grabbed at Dean’s wrist to keep him from leaving; knowing he only had to say the word and Dean would join him on the bed but not wanting to take advantage of his brother’s inability to refuse him. .. Thing was, even wordless, Dean had never had any trouble understanding him and this time was not any different.
Dean sighed, lying down next to Sam without protest but with reluctance visible in every rigid line of his body as he maintained a discrete distance and curled on his side facing away from him. Sam moved to fit himself around the curve of his body; the unfamiliar position bringing tears he fought to control. For months now Dean had been drawing away from him, one piece at a time. And the fact that he knew it was only because his brother loved him didn’t stop it from hurting any less. In a few short months Dean would be leaving him unless Sam found a way to break his deal and his brother was trying to prepare him for the separation. Sam bit back the sob that wanted out, wondering for the thousandth time how Dean could manage to put a price-tag on his soul and still call the deal a bargain.
Dean twisted around to face him at the sound and Sam swallowed at the sheer amount of love he saw in that expression.
“It’s okay,” The older brother whispered and Sam could no longer bury the broken sob as he burrowed into the crook of Dean’s shoulder; closing his eyes as he inhaled that familiar warm scent of Dean’s cologne and sweat.
An arm came around to trace patterns into the sweat of his back and Sam found himself unwillingly relaxing into the familiar motions. He hooked an arm around Dean’s muscular but lean torso and shifted around till his ear was pressed above the skin of his brother’s heart, the steady beats his lullaby.
Dean’s left hand carded through his hair while his right tugged him closer till he was sprawled half on top of his brother before resuming tracing patterns on his back. He offered a grateful smile and peered up to see an answering one flit across the older man’s face before the green eyes closed- Dean relaxing as he prepared to surrender to Morpheus even as his fingers continued moving over Sam’s back.
It was a familiar action; Sam knew Dean would continue absentmindedly drawing on Sam’s back till he fell into deeper sleep. And so he quieted, as he permitted himself to soak in the much needed affection after having spent weeks without; times like this, he preferred this ...this proximity to even the admittedly amazing sex he and Dean had. Sam closed his eyes, soaking in the familiarity of it; it was something that Dean had always done as far back as he could remember: sketching patterns on Sam’s back.
Dean’s fingers made an elegant sweep moving from the base of his fourth rib and moving up to the nape of his neck and Sam sighed in pleasure, a bright burst of colour lighting behind his closed lids and matching the movement of his brother’s fingers. Sam allowed himself to melt further into Dean, letting his brother take more of his weight and watching the intricate patterns take form on the dark canvas behind his closed eyes.
He allowed his mind to drift, dreamily feeling the symbol take shape till he recognized it: the ancient Hindu symbol for power and protection. Tears burned his eyes as he felt Dean pause for a second, a finger pressed carefully at the centre of the symbol as though waiting for it to sink in. A warm palm gently moved over the entire area as though wiping the canvas and then Dean was tracing a second pattern. A third... A fourth.
Sam swallowed; they were all symbols of protection. He forced himself to stay relaxed even as his mind buzzed with the possibilities... was it possible that Dean had been tracing these very symbols on his back forever? He wished he had observed the motifs Dean had been tracing earlier so that he could be sure; but the fact that the movements felt surprisingly familiar seemed to indicate that this was what his brother had been doing for years.
Sometimes Sam found himself wondering what would be left of dean if you took the protector and the big-brother out of him; especially times like these when it was obvious that the instinct to protect him was still very much there even half asleep.
He sighed... As long as Dean was around; nothing would hurt him.
It was time he started appreciating it.
“Sleep, Sammy.” A gentle voice ordered, “I’ve got you.”
He nodded, knowing his brother would feel the movement and pressed a quick butterfly kiss over his heart: this was what Dean had always promised him and Dean never lied.
#_The End_#
Written for a prompt onspn_kinkmeme: Dean absentmindedly tracing protective sigils on Sam’s skin.
Warning: (VERY) vaguely implied incest, spoilers for S3.
----
Sam wordlessly grabbed at Dean’s wrist to keep him from leaving; knowing he only had to say the word and Dean would join him on the bed but not wanting to take advantage of his brother’s inability to refuse him. .. Thing was, even wordless, Dean had never had any trouble understanding him and this time was not any different.
Dean sighed, lying down next to Sam without protest but with reluctance visible in every rigid line of his body as he maintained a discrete distance and curled on his side facing away from him. Sam moved to fit himself around the curve of his body; the unfamiliar position bringing tears he fought to control. For months now Dean had been drawing away from him, one piece at a time. And the fact that he knew it was only because his brother loved him didn’t stop it from hurting any less. In a few short months Dean would be leaving him unless Sam found a way to break his deal and his brother was trying to prepare him for the separation. Sam bit back the sob that wanted out, wondering for the thousandth time how Dean could manage to put a price-tag on his soul and still call the deal a bargain.
Dean twisted around to face him at the sound and Sam swallowed at the sheer amount of love he saw in that expression.
“It’s okay,” The older brother whispered and Sam could no longer bury the broken sob as he burrowed into the crook of Dean’s shoulder; closing his eyes as he inhaled that familiar warm scent of Dean’s cologne and sweat.
An arm came around to trace patterns into the sweat of his back and Sam found himself unwillingly relaxing into the familiar motions. He hooked an arm around Dean’s muscular but lean torso and shifted around till his ear was pressed above the skin of his brother’s heart, the steady beats his lullaby.
Dean’s left hand carded through his hair while his right tugged him closer till he was sprawled half on top of his brother before resuming tracing patterns on his back. He offered a grateful smile and peered up to see an answering one flit across the older man’s face before the green eyes closed- Dean relaxing as he prepared to surrender to Morpheus even as his fingers continued moving over Sam’s back.
It was a familiar action; Sam knew Dean would continue absentmindedly drawing on Sam’s back till he fell into deeper sleep. And so he quieted, as he permitted himself to soak in the much needed affection after having spent weeks without; times like this, he preferred this ...this proximity to even the admittedly amazing sex he and Dean had. Sam closed his eyes, soaking in the familiarity of it; it was something that Dean had always done as far back as he could remember: sketching patterns on Sam’s back.
Dean’s fingers made an elegant sweep moving from the base of his fourth rib and moving up to the nape of his neck and Sam sighed in pleasure, a bright burst of colour lighting behind his closed lids and matching the movement of his brother’s fingers. Sam allowed himself to melt further into Dean, letting his brother take more of his weight and watching the intricate patterns take form on the dark canvas behind his closed eyes.
He allowed his mind to drift, dreamily feeling the symbol take shape till he recognized it: the ancient Hindu symbol for power and protection. Tears burned his eyes as he felt Dean pause for a second, a finger pressed carefully at the centre of the symbol as though waiting for it to sink in. A warm palm gently moved over the entire area as though wiping the canvas and then Dean was tracing a second pattern. A third... A fourth.
Sam swallowed; they were all symbols of protection. He forced himself to stay relaxed even as his mind buzzed with the possibilities... was it possible that Dean had been tracing these very symbols on his back forever? He wished he had observed the motifs Dean had been tracing earlier so that he could be sure; but the fact that the movements felt surprisingly familiar seemed to indicate that this was what his brother had been doing for years.
Sometimes Sam found himself wondering what would be left of dean if you took the protector and the big-brother out of him; especially times like these when it was obvious that the instinct to protect him was still very much there even half asleep.
He sighed... As long as Dean was around; nothing would hurt him.
It was time he started appreciating it.
“Sleep, Sammy.” A gentle voice ordered, “I’ve got you.”
He nodded, knowing his brother would feel the movement and pressed a quick butterfly kiss over his heart: this was what Dean had always promised him and Dean never lied.
#_The End_#