Four pillows to two grown men - one taller than average thank you very much, and one giant-sized - isn’t really the greatest pillow-to-person ratio ever. In the end, after a bit of squabbling and some shaky attempts at laying bedclothes as foundations, they’re pretty much lying on the bed with a pillow-tent balanced precariously over their heads and their limbs tucked into weird, intimate places.
In this context, when Dean says ‘pretty much’, what he means is ‘exactly that.’
Sam huffs out a breath next to him, hot air gusting right across Dean’s ear. When he breathes in again, Dean can feel the intake of air again. When Sam shifts a little, making the tent wobble in a terrifying kind of way, his elbow digs into Dean’s sternum
“This is a pretty lame fort, man,” Sam says, eventually.
“Screw you,” Dean says. “This is the best pillow fort ever.”
“Sure,” Sam says. If Dean twists his head to look, their truly awesome fort will probably collapse, but he’s pretty sure he can hear Sam smirking. “Of all the pillows I’ve balanced on my face, this is definitely the best.”
“Boy doesn’t know awesome when it’s staring him in the face.” Dean wiggles a little to the right, squashing his shoulder tighter into Sam’s. It’s the best he can do as far as jocular nudgings are concerned right now, okay. “Can’t trust your judgement, man.”
Sam stiffens beside him - impossible to ignore, in these cramped conditions - and for a second Dean thinks Jesus Sammy it’s just a pillow fort, until he rewinds the words in his head and remembers where they were five or six days ago.
“I,” Sam says, quiet enough that if they weren’t pressed so tight together Dean probably wouldn’t have heard him. “I know I - didn’t make the best decisions, these last couple of - all year, really.”
“Sam,” Dean begins.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Sam whispers. “I thought I was - fucking myself up irreversibly, yeah, and I deserved everything you, you - and I was pretty damn sure I wasn’t gonna survive it, but I thought. It was.”
“Sam,” Dean says again, twisting his head around, pillow sagging against the side of his face.
Sam blinks across at him, so close that Dean can’t even see all of his face. Just the way his mouth is working, and the muscle tightening in his jaw, and the watery sheen to his eyes. Sam breathes out heavily as Dean studies him, draws in another hitching breath that makes the pillow above them shiver.
“Hey,” Dean says, awkwardly unfolding his arm until he can rest his hand on Sam’s chest. He can feel it shaking, just a little. “Hey. Shoulda known you’d fall in with the bad kids without me around to keep an eye on you.”
“Dean,” Sam says.
“Drugs are bad, okay,” Dean says. “Just say no.”
“The apocalypse, Dean.”
Dean taps Sam’s chest, shutting him up. Shifts onto his side a little - and is frankly impressed when the pillows don’t collapse over them - so he’s facing Sam properly. Nose to nose, pretty much.
“It’s okay, Sammy. It is. We can fix this.” He slides his hand up onto Sam’s shoulder and gives it a little shake. “Also, always practice safe sex.”
“You are,” Sam begins, and then stops. He closes his eyes, and somehow that little motion is enough to tip their foreheads together. “The pillow fort is pretty good,” he whispers, instead.
OMG! This is amazing. I Love the way Dean is so antsy he has to do something. Love that now that they're in close quarters, just the two of them, Sam has to say something. Love how he doesn't need to though and Dean knows and they can still make each other feel good. The way only brothers can. Love this!
“Hey,” Dean says, awkwardly unfolding his arm until he can rest his hand on Sam’s chest. He can feel it shaking, just a little. “Hey. Shoulda known you’d fall in with the bad kids without me around to keep an eye on you.”
In this context, when Dean says ‘pretty much’, what he means is ‘exactly that.’
Sam huffs out a breath next to him, hot air gusting right across Dean’s ear. When he breathes in again, Dean can feel the intake of air again. When Sam shifts a little, making the tent wobble in a terrifying kind of way, his elbow digs into Dean’s sternum
“This is a pretty lame fort, man,” Sam says, eventually.
“Screw you,” Dean says. “This is the best pillow fort ever.”
“Sure,” Sam says. If Dean twists his head to look, their truly awesome fort will probably collapse, but he’s pretty sure he can hear Sam smirking. “Of all the pillows I’ve balanced on my face, this is definitely the best.”
“Boy doesn’t know awesome when it’s staring him in the face.” Dean wiggles a little to the right, squashing his shoulder tighter into Sam’s. It’s the best he can do as far as jocular nudgings are concerned right now, okay. “Can’t trust your judgement, man.”
Sam stiffens beside him - impossible to ignore, in these cramped conditions - and for a second Dean thinks Jesus Sammy it’s just a pillow fort, until he rewinds the words in his head and remembers where they were five or six days ago.
“I,” Sam says, quiet enough that if they weren’t pressed so tight together Dean probably wouldn’t have heard him. “I know I - didn’t make the best decisions, these last couple of - all year, really.”
“Sam,” Dean begins.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Sam whispers. “I thought I was - fucking myself up irreversibly, yeah, and I deserved everything you, you - and I was pretty damn sure I wasn’t gonna survive it, but I thought. It was.”
“Sam,” Dean says again, twisting his head around, pillow sagging against the side of his face.
Sam blinks across at him, so close that Dean can’t even see all of his face. Just the way his mouth is working, and the muscle tightening in his jaw, and the watery sheen to his eyes. Sam breathes out heavily as Dean studies him, draws in another hitching breath that makes the pillow above them shiver.
“Hey,” Dean says, awkwardly unfolding his arm until he can rest his hand on Sam’s chest. He can feel it shaking, just a little. “Hey. Shoulda known you’d fall in with the bad kids without me around to keep an eye on you.”
“Dean,” Sam says.
“Drugs are bad, okay,” Dean says. “Just say no.”
“The apocalypse, Dean.”
Dean taps Sam’s chest, shutting him up. Shifts onto his side a little - and is frankly impressed when the pillows don’t collapse over them - so he’s facing Sam properly. Nose to nose, pretty much.
“It’s okay, Sammy. It is. We can fix this.” He slides his hand up onto Sam’s shoulder and gives it a little shake. “Also, always practice safe sex.”
“You are,” Sam begins, and then stops. He closes his eyes, and somehow that little motion is enough to tip their foreheads together. “The pillow fort is pretty good,” he whispers, instead.
“I told you so,” Dean says.
THE END.
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I think I'm a little in love with you right now.
~Nebula
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This was kind of insanely perfect, just so you know. *wipes eyes discreetly*
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Up until the wonderfully schmoopy end, I'd thought this-
"So get the fuck over here and build me a pillow fort."
was the best line ever. Until I got to this one-
"Screw you," Dean says. "This is the best pillow fort ever."
which is stiff competition. So funny with the awwwww, bb. :)
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YES :D :D :D
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I couldn't of said it better myself; Bravo! ♥
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