Safe
He felt guilty as soon as he thought it so he took a deep breath, trying to focus on there here and now instead. The place was a bit run down, but still in good shape. The only concession to moving in was that they’d painted their bedrooms before moving in. They still needed to do the rest of the place, and their boxes were all resting in the dining room - an honest to god dining room with hard wood floors and a light hanging over the table - so they could get to what they needed and keep everything packed up until they repainted the rest of the rooms. Dean said they’d do it next weekend, but Sam figured Dean would be at it whenever he wasn’t doing handyman stuff for Leda. He had images in his head of coming home from school to find his brother covered in paint. It wasn’t a bad image.
The bed shifted under him and he looked over to see Dean sitting beside him, holding a beer bottle out for him.
“You deserve it Sam. Need to relax a little.”
Both their beds had been set up, all the other furniture in the house was either in the dining room with the boxes or in the living room, shoved into a corner. The TV and DVD player had been set up in Dean’s room, the only place that was entirely set up already. Sam’s room was painted with a bed, but Dean wanted to take him out and find a good desk so he’d decided not to do any more unpacking until he had it. He didn’t tell Dean what it meant to him, that Dean wanted to get him a new desk, but he was sure Dean understood. It was why he was doing it.
He took the offered beer and handed Dean the remote. “Thanks.”
His word slurred slightly and he was too tired to care that Dean was laughing at him. “Tired Sammy?” he asked.
“Sore. My arms and shoulders are killing me.”
“Here, sit up.”
He really would have protested except Dean was manhandling him until he was sitting in the vee of his legs, pulling his shirt off over his head, and working his fingers into the stiff muscles of his shoulders. “Jesus, Dean.”
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Yes,” he moaned as Dean hit a sensitive spot. “How’d you learn to do that?”
“Girl I used to date was a masseuse. She had the best hands.”
Sam moaned, not wanting to hear about the girl at the moment. “Gonna fall asleep right here if you keep doing that.”
Dean laughed and Sam took a long pull off his beer as he did so. He didn’t like the stuff the way Dean did and he certainly never got it often, but he was okay with taking the edge off tonight.
He could feel his body relaxing into his brother’s touch. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as safe as he did now, with his brother taking care of him. Now, without his dad there, without a hunt always hanging over their head, he never had to be afraid again.
When Dean’s fingers stopped working he just leaned back, letting himself rest against his brother’s chest. Dean didn’t try to move him, just took his beer and set it down before he scooted around a bit to find a more comfortable position. He wrapped one arm over Sam’s chest, like he was holding him close, like he was protecting him.
“Relax, Sam. No school tomorrow and we can sleep in late.”
“Promise?” Sam slurred again.
“Promise,” Dean whispered against his temple.
The TV played on in front of him, but Sam’s eyes were already starting to slide shut. He turned his head slightly to the side and leaned up, pressing his lips to his brother’s neck. He felt Dean tense slightly, but the he let out a soft chuckle and Sam smiled into his skin. “Night, Dean,” he sighed as he turned half on his side in his brother’s arms, resting his head against his chest.
“Sweet dreams, Sammy,” his brother said.
Sam snuggled in and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, letting his brother’s warmth lull him into sleep. He had no where to be in the morning and no where else he wanted to be. The world would move as it wanted and for tonight he was safe.
That’s all there was to it.
On to Supposed to Be
The bed shifted under him and he looked over to see Dean sitting beside him, holding a beer bottle out for him.
“You deserve it Sam. Need to relax a little.”
Both their beds had been set up, all the other furniture in the house was either in the dining room with the boxes or in the living room, shoved into a corner. The TV and DVD player had been set up in Dean’s room, the only place that was entirely set up already. Sam’s room was painted with a bed, but Dean wanted to take him out and find a good desk so he’d decided not to do any more unpacking until he had it. He didn’t tell Dean what it meant to him, that Dean wanted to get him a new desk, but he was sure Dean understood. It was why he was doing it.
He took the offered beer and handed Dean the remote. “Thanks.”
His word slurred slightly and he was too tired to care that Dean was laughing at him. “Tired Sammy?” he asked.
“Sore. My arms and shoulders are killing me.”
“Here, sit up.”
He really would have protested except Dean was manhandling him until he was sitting in the vee of his legs, pulling his shirt off over his head, and working his fingers into the stiff muscles of his shoulders. “Jesus, Dean.”
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Yes,” he moaned as Dean hit a sensitive spot. “How’d you learn to do that?”
“Girl I used to date was a masseuse. She had the best hands.”
Sam moaned, not wanting to hear about the girl at the moment. “Gonna fall asleep right here if you keep doing that.”
Dean laughed and Sam took a long pull off his beer as he did so. He didn’t like the stuff the way Dean did and he certainly never got it often, but he was okay with taking the edge off tonight.
He could feel his body relaxing into his brother’s touch. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as safe as he did now, with his brother taking care of him. Now, without his dad there, without a hunt always hanging over their head, he never had to be afraid again.
When Dean’s fingers stopped working he just leaned back, letting himself rest against his brother’s chest. Dean didn’t try to move him, just took his beer and set it down before he scooted around a bit to find a more comfortable position. He wrapped one arm over Sam’s chest, like he was holding him close, like he was protecting him.
“Relax, Sam. No school tomorrow and we can sleep in late.”
“Promise?” Sam slurred again.
“Promise,” Dean whispered against his temple.
The TV played on in front of him, but Sam’s eyes were already starting to slide shut. He turned his head slightly to the side and leaned up, pressing his lips to his brother’s neck. He felt Dean tense slightly, but the he let out a soft chuckle and Sam smiled into his skin. “Night, Dean,” he sighed as he turned half on his side in his brother’s arms, resting his head against his chest.
“Sweet dreams, Sammy,” his brother said.
Sam snuggled in and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, letting his brother’s warmth lull him into sleep. He had no where to be in the morning and no where else he wanted to be. The world would move as it wanted and for tonight he was safe.
That’s all there was to it.
On to Supposed to Be