[NaNo] Ass Out of You and Me: Race (Sam/Dean) 29/30
Series: Ass Out of You and Me
Title: Race
Author: destial
Pairing: Past Sam/Dean, one sided Sam/Dean?, Sam/Jess, reference to Dean/unspecified OFCs
Theme: 30 NaNo-Shots Special Table 2010
Prompt: Race
Rating: PG-16
Warnings: Summations?
Spoilers: Pre-series, so if you saw episode one, you're good to go.
Word Count: 665
Notes: Follows after Silence and Visit. Now being made into awesome podfic by the lovely and talented weimar27 found here! Check often for updates!
Summary: As Sam pulls away from Dean, his brother follows him.
STAY TUNED: I'll be posting the final official ficlet in this series within the next few hours.
Race
The distance between Sam and Dean is constant, though neither realizes it.
Sam, young and finally given that taste of normal he's always longed for, falls out of love with Dean slowly, but surely, and into love with Jessica. He doesn't even realize it until he and Jess celebrate their one year anniversary and he thinks of his first one year anniversary, spent making out with his brother in the back seat of the Impala. Dean would have never put up with Sam saying anything as cheesy as "Happy Anniversary" and he most definitely would have never accepted a gift from Sam for such an occasion.
For a moment, Sam misses his brother like how you're supposed to miss memories, with a fondness of disconnect, but no real desire to revisit. But with Jess under his arm, her much smaller body pressed against his side, he can't give anymore thought to the family he left behind. With each passing day, Dean is farther and farther away. He no longer sees him in the green of Jess' eyes or in the golden sheen the sun gives her hair. He no longer feels him in the lean chord of her muscles. No longer hears him in her easy sarcasm and witty rejoinders.
He no longer kisses Jess and thinks of Dean's own full lips. He no longer tastes Dean when he licks the salty sweat from the small of Jess' back.
As Sam pulls away from Dean, though, his brother follows him.
Dean doesn't know what it means to be in love. Dean was not raised to live in a world with boundaries; by definition, a hunter was supposed to ignore most societal bounds. Anymore it seems like everything in his life is bleeding, so it makes sense that the definitions of things like love would too. He tried to find out, with Cassie, but all he learned from that and his time with Sam is that love hurts and betrays. It misunderstands and misconstrues, misleads. And Dean can't keep being ripped apart so very thoroughly.
He stops trying to connect, then, and the only thing he allows himself to love is the curve of a breast, the firm softness of a woman's hip, full lips and sparkling eyes.
And almost every day he thinks of Sam and all the ways he misses his brother.
He once told himself that the only change between him and Sam, once they started a relationship, would be the addition of sex. He still believes that was basically true. But it isn't the sex he thinks about when he can't sleep at night. It isn't the sex he dreams about when he can sleep at night.
It's Sam's smile. It's Sam's laugh. It's the way that he misses Sam so much that he'd visit one of the only two places he swore he'd never go. Misses his face and his voice and even the stupid, stubborn set of his jaw so much that he has to see him. Dean has never loved anything like he's loved Sam and now it's all jumbled and confusing but he knows with a conviction that would startle Sam and dad both that there is nothing more pure that has ever existed than Dean's regard for his brother. Nothing else matters in comparison and Dean has known for almost three years that he made a mistake when he cut contact with his brother.
But he can't reach out to his brother with dad beside him. It's pathetic, it's weak, it's cowardly, but Dean can't run to Sam, can't beg him back into his life with the watchful eyes of John Winchester on him. Dad has to miss him too; it's his son, for god's sake. But Dean knows what it'd look like. It'd look like some lovesick plea.
And it wasn't. Because there is nothing sick about Dean's love. It isn't an illness but Dean barely understands it so he can't expect anyone else to either.
Continued in : Back on Track
Title: Race
Author: destial
Pairing: Past Sam/Dean, one sided Sam/Dean?, Sam/Jess, reference to Dean/unspecified OFCs
Theme: 30 NaNo-Shots Special Table 2010
Prompt: Race
Rating: PG-16
Warnings: Summations?
Spoilers: Pre-series, so if you saw episode one, you're good to go.
Word Count: 665
Notes: Follows after Silence and Visit. Now being made into awesome podfic by the lovely and talented weimar27 found here! Check often for updates!
Summary: As Sam pulls away from Dean, his brother follows him.
STAY TUNED: I'll be posting the final official ficlet in this series within the next few hours.
Race
The distance between Sam and Dean is constant, though neither realizes it.
Sam, young and finally given that taste of normal he's always longed for, falls out of love with Dean slowly, but surely, and into love with Jessica. He doesn't even realize it until he and Jess celebrate their one year anniversary and he thinks of his first one year anniversary, spent making out with his brother in the back seat of the Impala. Dean would have never put up with Sam saying anything as cheesy as "Happy Anniversary" and he most definitely would have never accepted a gift from Sam for such an occasion.
For a moment, Sam misses his brother like how you're supposed to miss memories, with a fondness of disconnect, but no real desire to revisit. But with Jess under his arm, her much smaller body pressed against his side, he can't give anymore thought to the family he left behind. With each passing day, Dean is farther and farther away. He no longer sees him in the green of Jess' eyes or in the golden sheen the sun gives her hair. He no longer feels him in the lean chord of her muscles. No longer hears him in her easy sarcasm and witty rejoinders.
He no longer kisses Jess and thinks of Dean's own full lips. He no longer tastes Dean when he licks the salty sweat from the small of Jess' back.
As Sam pulls away from Dean, though, his brother follows him.
Dean doesn't know what it means to be in love. Dean was not raised to live in a world with boundaries; by definition, a hunter was supposed to ignore most societal bounds. Anymore it seems like everything in his life is bleeding, so it makes sense that the definitions of things like love would too. He tried to find out, with Cassie, but all he learned from that and his time with Sam is that love hurts and betrays. It misunderstands and misconstrues, misleads. And Dean can't keep being ripped apart so very thoroughly.
He stops trying to connect, then, and the only thing he allows himself to love is the curve of a breast, the firm softness of a woman's hip, full lips and sparkling eyes.
And almost every day he thinks of Sam and all the ways he misses his brother.
He once told himself that the only change between him and Sam, once they started a relationship, would be the addition of sex. He still believes that was basically true. But it isn't the sex he thinks about when he can't sleep at night. It isn't the sex he dreams about when he can sleep at night.
It's Sam's smile. It's Sam's laugh. It's the way that he misses Sam so much that he'd visit one of the only two places he swore he'd never go. Misses his face and his voice and even the stupid, stubborn set of his jaw so much that he has to see him. Dean has never loved anything like he's loved Sam and now it's all jumbled and confusing but he knows with a conviction that would startle Sam and dad both that there is nothing more pure that has ever existed than Dean's regard for his brother. Nothing else matters in comparison and Dean has known for almost three years that he made a mistake when he cut contact with his brother.
But he can't reach out to his brother with dad beside him. It's pathetic, it's weak, it's cowardly, but Dean can't run to Sam, can't beg him back into his life with the watchful eyes of John Winchester on him. Dad has to miss him too; it's his son, for god's sake. But Dean knows what it'd look like. It'd look like some lovesick plea.
And it wasn't. Because there is nothing sick about Dean's love. It isn't an illness but Dean barely understands it so he can't expect anyone else to either.
Continued in : Back on Track