They meet in the middle, where the motel bed's mattress already dips low, the bed itself rolling them one against the other. They start and they finish together, aligned with Dean's head tucked up under Sam's chin and Sam's ankle hooked around Dean's.
God, it's been a long time.
For a moment, there's just this, hovering in time, hands settled light and uncertain on a hip, on the edge of a shoulder blade, at the small of a back.
They meet in the middle, no telling who started and who came second, but it doesn't matter. Dean's lips touch Sam's, and Sam's his, and their arms know what to do now. Grabbing on and holding tight, sealed breath to breath, never letting go.
Here by order of Suzy.mass_hipgnosisMay 16 2009, 21:45:34 UTC
There's one donut left in the box on the seat between them. It's been sitting there since they stopped in Barstow, probably stale and gross by now, but a better option than the Chicken And Rice MREs in the trunk or the beef jerky from 1987 in the glove compartment, and there won't even be a gas station for another hundred miles.
Sam's been eyeing the cruller since Dean punched Dark Side Of The Moon into the tape deck, and his brother is currently air-drumming on the steering wheel to 'Us And Them.'
He deliberately looks out the passenger side window as he reaches for the donut.
"Sammy."
He does not jump. Well, only a little. "What
( ... )
Also, fml I am okay with procrastinating but idk if I can morally allow myself to write commentfic whilst I'm at it, so I will just give adorable prompts instead.
Sam/Dean (or gen) - the truth comes out re the evil fake voicemail of pain and heartbreak. Sam wibbles. Dean wibbles. It is good.
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Sam/Dean -- Sneaking into bed later that night just to sleep next to one another.
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God, it's been a long time.
For a moment, there's just this, hovering in time, hands settled light and uncertain on a hip, on the edge of a shoulder blade, at the small of a back.
They meet in the middle, no telling who started and who came second, but it doesn't matter. Dean's lips touch Sam's, and Sam's his, and their arms know what to do now. Grabbing on and holding tight, sealed breath to breath, never letting go.
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( ... )
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*affixes shiny gold star to your forehead*
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Sam/Dean -- Peace offerings
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Sam's been eyeing the cruller since Dean punched Dark Side Of The Moon into the tape deck, and his brother is currently air-drumming on the steering wheel to 'Us And Them.'
He deliberately looks out the passenger side window as he reaches for the donut.
"Sammy."
He does not jump. Well, only a little. "What ( ... )
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Edited because dude, I FAIL at grammar *headdesk*
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Sam/Dean (or gen) - the truth comes out re the evil fake voicemail of pain and heartbreak. Sam wibbles. Dean wibbles. It is good.
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Gen - Trading shifts driving so they can keep going, in the car, together.
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