French Dreams
Title: French Dreams
Author: writersmirth
Pairing: Sam/Den
Genre: Slash
Rating: PG
Words: 798
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. No copyright is intended. I just love to spend my days writing about these guys.
Summary: Sam is feeling lonely in his job and likes to dream big.
Paris had always been a dream for Sam. He dreamed of travelling there in the winter and the spring, the summer and the fall. It filled his mind completely and he longed for the day when Dean would turn around and decide that It was worth their time to take a holiday. Sam loved to imagine himself in the midst of the “City of Lights” walking down the streets, in each section of the town whether it be night or day, rain or shine.
Whenever he got paid he was constantly on the look out for new purchases; anything to do with French Capital City and he had to have it. It had started out with a few coffee mugs and tea pots with the Eiffel tower painted on the surface and had soon turned into a hoarding obsession of nick-nacks, posters, stationary and art Deco till his small apartment looked like a souvenir shop. He didn't mind though. Each little item he brought he treasured knowing that one day he would manifest the trip of a lifetime and would finally get to experience the beauty and thrill that was Paris.
Today, much like any other day he sat at his computer desk typing up the documents he needed to hand into work the next day. Working from home was always a challenge, with netflix available 24/7 and Deans inescapable rants about him not putting enough effort into the family business. It was sometimes a wonder he got anything done, but he managed and continued to file away writing up reports and looking over cases that his lawyer friends needed. He was there go to guy, but more than anything he was their open book; the researcher who did all the hard yard background searches, and head hunting and handed it all over for the top guns to win in court.
“Do you want a cup of coffee Sam?” Dean asked hovering over his writing desk with the ancient coffee pot in one hand and a bagel in the other. The smell of cream cheese and chocolate sauce wafted through the air while the rich aroma of coffee beans waiting to be roasted and peculated made Deans mouth water. “Cause I am gagging for a small soy frappachino right about now Sammy.”
Sam sighed and put down the document he was working on, laying it face down on his glass table top. Beneath it at his feet their squat little corgi slept soundly, only moving when Sam rubbed his belly with the tip of his toes. He brushed his hair behind his ear, the sound of the machine already humming signalling that Dean hadn't bothered to wait for an answer. He had just decided for the both of them; as usual.
Why couldn't life be simple? Why did it always have to be a choice between this and that? Coffee or no coffee? Sex or no sex and worse having a real job and working in society and travelling the world where he could be of use to more people than just a town and a lax law firm? Contemplating the answers to these questions, Sam pushed his ergonomic swivel chair away from the desk and rose to his feet. It was time for a wake up call that was for certain. It his life had come down to picking between shades of white crisp paper and different coffee blends then it was seriously time for a shake up and Sam knew just how to do it.
“Dean,” he called walking out into the candle lit hallway. The scent of incense burned strong under his nose.
“Yeah,” Dean called from the kitchen. His voice distant and far away. He was busy making them breakfast. “What is it Sammy?”
Sam stood in the hallway, looking at the photograph of them standing outside of their first home. He took it in his hands, caressing the glass casing and the wooden frame that still felt as smooth as the day he had made it. Maybe they couldn't afford to go to France, or an expensive holiday but at least they had their own house. No more motels or cheap caravan. They could do what they liked, when they liked work or no work. With this in mind an sinful idea popped into Sam's mind as he put the photo back into place and ran towards the kitchen .
”Dean. How do you feel about dressing up as a French maid?”
***
Authors notes
I am honestly feeling pretty shit right now so I needed to write something that was a little different to my usual fiction. While it is a little out of character I still enjoyed writing about it and might explore it again later. I will now conclude this post with one thought in mind.
Dean in a french maid outfit....
