Mini-Nano: Dark Side of the Moon (24)
The Dark Side of the Moon
(1006 words)
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24
"Take your goddamn hands off me. I can manage."
Dean promptly walks into the doorframe and splits his lip. He bats Sam's hands away when Sam tries to check whether he's broken his nose as well. Blood dribbles down his chin, splatters the white tiles with pretty red flowers as he navigates his way to the shower. He fumbles about until he gets the water on and then stops.
"If you're still here, Sam d'you mind getting the hell out? And close the door behind you."
Sam hovers uncertainly and then when Dean starts kicking off his sweatpants, he realises, with a jolt of pain, that he's intruding. That he's unwelcome. He backs out of the bathroom and sinks down against the closed door, listening to the rumble of the shower and imagining the water hitting his brother's body.
He wipes the back of his hand over his dry mouth and tries to ignore the pounding headache creeping in behind his eyes. Last night was miserable and it'd been useless Sam trying to sleep. He'd wallowed instead, in the numerous ways that he had fucked up. Dean was still deaf and blind and Sam had possibly irrevocably destroyed their relationship because he was sick and wrong and couldn't keep his hands to his goddamn self.
Sunlight, dusty and gold, filters in through the windows, picking out the pile of open books on the floor where Sam has tried to pick up on his research. Everything comes down to the simple fact that the wraith is dead and Dean will one day succeed in disappearing under the water forever. Possibly today.
Carefully, Sam creaks the bathroom door back ajar so he can be sure Dean doesn't somehow manage to drown himself in the shower. Steam seeps out and Sam can see Dean's got the water so hot it's turning his skin raw and pink. The idea that Dean is trying to wash Sam clean off his body hits Sam and won't go away.
When the knock at the door comes, Sam's almost grateful for something to make his mind stop picking at the thought that Dean feels dirty because of what Sam's done to him. Only almost though, because he knows what Bobby sees when he looks at Sam and it makes Sam feel grubby and ashamed.
It's too soon for Bobby not to be awkward around him but he claps Sam on the shoulder and gives him a concerned once-over.
"Is now a good time?" he says, hanging back when Sam holds the door wide.
Sam's jaw tenses but he nods.
"Just gimme a moment to get him dressed." Colour sweeps through his cheeks and he trips over his words as he hurriedly adds, "'Cos he's in the shower, I mean."
Awkwardness knows no bounds and both Sam and Bobby cringe. Bobby waves him away and heads straight for the books while Sam slips through the half-open bathroom door. He doesn't like the dazed look on Dean's face as the water courses over him and the anxiety is enough to take his mind off the fact that, despite his promise, he hasn't stopped wanting Dean for one second.
"For fuck's sake, Sam, just gimme the towel and I'll do it myself!" Dean snaps once Sam's got him dripping all over the floor. "Just keep your mind on fixing my eyes and ears. Then you won't have to-"
He breaks off into angry, exasperated breaths. He takes the towel Sam curls his fingers about and wipes half-heartedly at his face. He looks fed-up, despite the rosy flush the shower's left in him. A droplet of water dribbles down his brow and Sam catches it with a fingertip, simply because he needs to touch Dean and that's the most harmless reason to he can find.
"Have I done something wrong?" Dean says. "Seriously, I don't get why- Did I do something?"
If it had been possible for Sam to feel like a more worthless excuse for a brother than he already did, that would have done it. He taps twice, lightly, on the curve of Dean's cheekbone. A smile tugs at Dean's mouth and he tilts his face up towards Sam. His breath cuts through the damp warmth of the steam and Sam feels it over his lips.
"Then stop being a dick and kiss me."
With strained determination, Sam takes Dean by the shoulders and puts him away from him. Something ugly rushes in to twist the obvious hurt of the rejection and Dean's lips curl into a snarl.
"Go screw yourself, Sam! I'm not a frickin' toy! You can't fuck me when you want and then put me on time-out! It doesn't work like that!"
Sam shoves the handful of Dean's clothes at him and flees the bathroom. He winces at the shattering of something glass behind him and Dean's foul-mouthed litany, and takes a deep breath, avoiding the way Bobby looks up from his book over towards him. Sam presses his lips together and heads towards the kitchen.
"Coffee?" he says.
"Don't worry yourself over me," says Bobby.
Somehow, Sam ends up making him a cup of coffee anyway. It gives his hands something to do. He's just setting the mug down by Bobby when the bathroom door bangs open and Dean appears, in jeans and a t-shirt, and with the nastiest scowl Sam's seen in a while.
"What happened to his mouth?" says Bobby and Sam realises with a start that Dean's split lip is pretty obviously swollen.
He starts to reach out for Dean but the second Dean feels Sam's hand on him, he jerks away and ends up tripping over his duffel bag. He falls heavily, banging his knees and elbows, and yet still won't let Sam help him back to his feet. Sam turns his face away so he doesn't have to watch Dean struggling when he knows his help will be refused.
He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and flashes Bobby a tight smile.
"Something like that happened."
(1006 words)
1: 2:3: 4:5:6:7:8:9:10:11:12:13:14:15:16:17:18:19:20:21:22:23:24:25:26:27:28:29:30
24
"Take your goddamn hands off me. I can manage."
Dean promptly walks into the doorframe and splits his lip. He bats Sam's hands away when Sam tries to check whether he's broken his nose as well. Blood dribbles down his chin, splatters the white tiles with pretty red flowers as he navigates his way to the shower. He fumbles about until he gets the water on and then stops.
"If you're still here, Sam d'you mind getting the hell out? And close the door behind you."
Sam hovers uncertainly and then when Dean starts kicking off his sweatpants, he realises, with a jolt of pain, that he's intruding. That he's unwelcome. He backs out of the bathroom and sinks down against the closed door, listening to the rumble of the shower and imagining the water hitting his brother's body.
He wipes the back of his hand over his dry mouth and tries to ignore the pounding headache creeping in behind his eyes. Last night was miserable and it'd been useless Sam trying to sleep. He'd wallowed instead, in the numerous ways that he had fucked up. Dean was still deaf and blind and Sam had possibly irrevocably destroyed their relationship because he was sick and wrong and couldn't keep his hands to his goddamn self.
Sunlight, dusty and gold, filters in through the windows, picking out the pile of open books on the floor where Sam has tried to pick up on his research. Everything comes down to the simple fact that the wraith is dead and Dean will one day succeed in disappearing under the water forever. Possibly today.
Carefully, Sam creaks the bathroom door back ajar so he can be sure Dean doesn't somehow manage to drown himself in the shower. Steam seeps out and Sam can see Dean's got the water so hot it's turning his skin raw and pink. The idea that Dean is trying to wash Sam clean off his body hits Sam and won't go away.
When the knock at the door comes, Sam's almost grateful for something to make his mind stop picking at the thought that Dean feels dirty because of what Sam's done to him. Only almost though, because he knows what Bobby sees when he looks at Sam and it makes Sam feel grubby and ashamed.
It's too soon for Bobby not to be awkward around him but he claps Sam on the shoulder and gives him a concerned once-over.
"Is now a good time?" he says, hanging back when Sam holds the door wide.
Sam's jaw tenses but he nods.
"Just gimme a moment to get him dressed." Colour sweeps through his cheeks and he trips over his words as he hurriedly adds, "'Cos he's in the shower, I mean."
Awkwardness knows no bounds and both Sam and Bobby cringe. Bobby waves him away and heads straight for the books while Sam slips through the half-open bathroom door. He doesn't like the dazed look on Dean's face as the water courses over him and the anxiety is enough to take his mind off the fact that, despite his promise, he hasn't stopped wanting Dean for one second.
"For fuck's sake, Sam, just gimme the towel and I'll do it myself!" Dean snaps once Sam's got him dripping all over the floor. "Just keep your mind on fixing my eyes and ears. Then you won't have to-"
He breaks off into angry, exasperated breaths. He takes the towel Sam curls his fingers about and wipes half-heartedly at his face. He looks fed-up, despite the rosy flush the shower's left in him. A droplet of water dribbles down his brow and Sam catches it with a fingertip, simply because he needs to touch Dean and that's the most harmless reason to he can find.
"Have I done something wrong?" Dean says. "Seriously, I don't get why- Did I do something?"
If it had been possible for Sam to feel like a more worthless excuse for a brother than he already did, that would have done it. He taps twice, lightly, on the curve of Dean's cheekbone. A smile tugs at Dean's mouth and he tilts his face up towards Sam. His breath cuts through the damp warmth of the steam and Sam feels it over his lips.
"Then stop being a dick and kiss me."
With strained determination, Sam takes Dean by the shoulders and puts him away from him. Something ugly rushes in to twist the obvious hurt of the rejection and Dean's lips curl into a snarl.
"Go screw yourself, Sam! I'm not a frickin' toy! You can't fuck me when you want and then put me on time-out! It doesn't work like that!"
Sam shoves the handful of Dean's clothes at him and flees the bathroom. He winces at the shattering of something glass behind him and Dean's foul-mouthed litany, and takes a deep breath, avoiding the way Bobby looks up from his book over towards him. Sam presses his lips together and heads towards the kitchen.
"Coffee?" he says.
"Don't worry yourself over me," says Bobby.
Somehow, Sam ends up making him a cup of coffee anyway. It gives his hands something to do. He's just setting the mug down by Bobby when the bathroom door bangs open and Dean appears, in jeans and a t-shirt, and with the nastiest scowl Sam's seen in a while.
"What happened to his mouth?" says Bobby and Sam realises with a start that Dean's split lip is pretty obviously swollen.
He starts to reach out for Dean but the second Dean feels Sam's hand on him, he jerks away and ends up tripping over his duffel bag. He falls heavily, banging his knees and elbows, and yet still won't let Sam help him back to his feet. Sam turns his face away so he doesn't have to watch Dean struggling when he knows his help will be refused.
He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and flashes Bobby a tight smile.
"Something like that happened."