[where the hell are his pants? Oh, his fuckin' head. Close the damn curtains - Sammy!
-- At least, that's what he wants to say. Instead all the comes out, as Dean squints in the cold morning light, is a disgruntled, half-growled -] Mrrph -!
/has this insane urge to cackle at their poor hungover heads... XD;given_enoughApril 19 2012, 16:24:25 UTC
[ohhhh, fuck - no. Okay -- Don't talk, Sam! Talking is bad. Dean winces, his eyes screwing up against more than just the light - but there's an unfamiliar weight against his hips and holy --]
Uhh? [-- he mumbles, incoherent. The confusion in his eyes when he snaps them open, gives way to recognition then another round of confusion because - the fuck? Why's Sam in his bed? Or is he in Sam's bed? Huh? Why - oh, fuck who cares?]
-- Ain't th'only one... [he drawls, words falling over each other so they're almost unreadable. He tries to get some bearings, to sit up but he doesn't know which legs are his... is he moving, or not?] Th'Hell happened?
Haha, I know! Poor guys.helosthisshoeApril 19 2012, 16:38:26 UTC
I don't know, Dean...[He feels Dean trying to move and lets out a soft, bothered whine because yeah, he doesn't want to budge. He's groggy and hungover enough that the only thing he's thinking is Dean is warm and it feels good.
Also, why the hell is he shirtless... and pantsless? At least he still has his underwear on...
He frowns though, trying to clear up the fog that was last night for the most part.] We went out to that bar up the road... thought you were gonna try to pick up that- that one chick, the one with the tiny skirt and the sister.
[And why he hadn't, Sam doesn't really remember. He does remember being irritated with Dean, he thinks, telling him to think with the big head for once... pretty much standard complaints.
God, he's never drinking again. All he remembers are flashes of drinking and stumbling back to the motel. And more drinking.] God, I never want to see booze again... you remember anything big?
[small mercies, little brother. Dean huffs a little as he tries to extricate himself further... only half-listening even though he was the one who asked. But oh - he can remember Miss belt-for-skirt very well. If only because of how full-on she was. Call him fussy now? But he didn't like it when they were obvious anymore.
Dean shrugged, rootling through the twisted pile by his feet as he sat on the edge. Ignoring the fact their clothes are together like he's ignoring the fact they were in the same bed, apparently reliving their very past childhoods...]
Nope - 'cept my throat's sore as Hell. Think I might've sang the way back...
[this does make him snicker, if only because that was a sure-fire way to piss Sam off. He hoped he'd done it now. Heh.]
[There was a soft huff when Dean finally moved if only because that meant he really did have to move... which was only to flop onto his back.He idly reached to scratch his stomach, eyes squeezing shut briefly.
Sharing beds wasn't as easy anymore as when they'd been kids. Two grown men didn't fit as well, not without having to be a tangled heap of limbs apparently.]
Oh shut up. [He pulls a face, using one foot to nudge at Dean's back.]
Everything's sore. [Which he's hoping is either from being cramped in a tiny bed with someone else or falling flat on his ass at some point during the night... both likely enough.]
There's some- advil or something in my bag, grab it for me?
[reaching across, his arm over one of Sam's legs, Dean's fingers skimmed just at the handle of the bag in question before snagging it up and knocking to his thigh on the way. Serve him right, too - making him get it.] Thank fuck you're always prepared...
[he rubs at his eyes as he gropes around with his hand inside until he finds painkillers. These'll do. He doesn't comment that the bottle is half-full. If either of them have been popping a few extra on the go, who cares? More pain than most, he guesses.]
Water... [he almost croaks the word, starting up. Too fast, so he sways a little on his feet, one knee bumping to the bedframe, the edge of the mattress so his face is now level with where Sam's hip is. Blinking, he starts backward quickly -]
Yeah, well... we usually need'em for something. [Not like they had the safest job in the world. He bites back on any irritated snapping at the movement Dean keeps making, though his lips do twitch into a frown at the back whacking into him.
Hey, Dean had to be more used to hangovers than Sam anyway! He should be the one to muscle through and get them... or something.
He lets his eyes drift shut, mumbling in response to the water comments... and it isn't until the bed is shaking with the movement that he opens his eyes and sees Dean's face right there.
It shouldn't be that embarrassing really - it was a trip... still, he pushes himself back anyway, cheeks heating up. Maybe it's just because Dean reacted like that or- just that it was weird being practically naked with Dean in bed anyway... something.
He didn't want to look too deep into it right now.
God, the movement was a bad idea. His body protested it, his head protested... everything was screaming at him. He winced, letting out a soft, pathetic little noise.]
[that was just it - he was supposed to be in his element on being at least half-alert here! Dean had no clue what all he'd done last night, but it was clearly... draining.
His eyes lift, suspicious... maybe a little fearful to Sam's face as he looks up again. His reaction, coupled with this whole damn situation and the way he - oh holyshit.]
My throat's sore.
[he repeats the fact, slowly, dully. Realisation hitting him, once more and he groans, head tipped to the bed. And burying into it because - damn. He knows exactly what could have gone on last night -]
[Sam had already snapped the words off before he thought the better of it before he looked back down at him, studying him quietly. He squinted a little at him, frowning.
Shit, what had they done? He thinks he has a clue, but... he doesn't want to think about it.]
I'm gonna go get the water...
[He moves slowly to his feet, ignoring any unsteadiness or dizziness as he goes to the bathroom to fill up a cup. Okay, so- possible blowjob and... other things. He doesn't even- know how to bring up that topic, not with Dean.
He returns shortly and grabs the pills, popping some and swallowing them down with a drink of water before nudging at Dean.] Come on, take some. It'll help with the headache... and, uh, the throat too.
is this assumed backstory of times okay? I can change bb!given_enoughApril 19 2012, 17:49:06 UTC
[if Dean has his way, there'll be no bringing up of nothing here. There'd been enough of that last night and - shit.
No. Too soon, waaaay too soon to make jokes about it. Could you even joke about this? It wasn't like the first time, but it didn't mean the panic was any less. The questions and the guilt any less.
He heaved a deep, self-deprecating sigh. Disgusted. Not with what they'd done, more that... he'd let it happen again.
Why did he get drunk anymore when this was always a risk? Why couldn't Sam let him alone to drink, so the chances were less? Then again - there were times it didn't matter and he's just started in on him when he got back. Those were the worst, he thinks, running hands through his hair, spiking it up at odd angles as he breathed out. Because it was practically like he forced Sam those times, right? Right?]
...Yeah. [he nods his thanks, not trusting himself to speak more. He can't look at Sam right now. The water is a God-send, cool against his throat. He ignores the painkillers.]
Nah, totally cool! (:helosthisshoeApril 19 2012, 18:05:31 UTC
Dean... [He gave him a look when he blatantly ignored the pills. Great. Now Dean'd probably be sullenly nursing that headache of his and... probably refusing to talk about- that, again
( ... )
Don' wanna feel better, Sammy. [he said shortly, shutting his eyes and exhaling. Maybe it was childish, but he'd rather take the damn pain right now. Least he deserved.
But at the back of his mind was another, more pressing thought: Dean wanted to talk. Really talk about this shit, maybe - maybe even get it out in the open. He was shocked at himself, sure. But this wasn't some sudden urge -
He glanced up quickly, at Sam. Looking at him, and really taking him in. All his features, what he felt he saw in his eyes. Pity, probably... disgust at worst.] Huh.
[he looked away, clenching his hand against his knee, the other at his side. Tight fists because.. yeah. It's there. Even right now, when he feels like shit. That crawling heat, that feeling inside him that he just - wants him. Wants Sam, even if he can't really do anything right now. It's burning inside and avoiding it just makes this shit happen. He has to - fuck, he had to deal with this -] Uh... shower. I'll -
Dean.[This time there's an exasperated note to his voice and he can't decide if he'd really like to hit Dean over the head or just get up and find some excuse to step out for a bit before he says something he'll probably regret later.
He can't get himself to move though. He frowns, looking down and idly pushes a hand through his hair... it's a mess anyway and that probably just messes it up even more though.] Look... This isn't- any different from any other time, Dean. It won't happen again.
[It was all he could think to do, only thing to offer... but it's not the first time either one of them have said it and it'd happen again when they couldn't ignore it anymore.]
[he cuts his gaze sharply to his, ignoring that his head spins a little. Reeling at the sudden movement. Jesus, Sam! Can't you leave it alone?]
Damn right it's not gonna happen again. [he mutters, gathering up clothes - new ones, he's not nearly ready enough to tackle that pile on the floor after he saw just why they were sticking together! - and shakes his head.] Wait - my head's gonna split open, man - just. Lemme shower first.
[talk, he thought. They had to talk. This couldn't keep happening, and he meant it. This time, for sure.]
Reply
-- At least, that's what he wants to say. Instead all the comes out, as Dean squints in the cold morning light, is a disgruntled, half-growled -] Mrrph -!
Reply
Even that noise makes his head throb and all Sam can do is groan and huddle in closer to-
to Dean.
He passed out with Dean last night? Not just with, but literally in the bed with? Ugh, whatever.]
Dean, shut up... m'head hurts.
Reply
Uhh? [-- he mumbles, incoherent. The confusion in his eyes when he snaps them open, gives way to recognition then another round of confusion because - the fuck? Why's Sam in his bed? Or is he in Sam's bed? Huh? Why - oh, fuck who cares?]
-- Ain't th'only one... [he drawls, words falling over each other so they're almost unreadable. He tries to get some bearings, to sit up but he doesn't know which legs are his... is he moving, or not?] Th'Hell happened?
Reply
Also, why the hell is he shirtless... and pantsless? At least he still has his underwear on...
He frowns though, trying to clear up the fog that was last night for the most part.] We went out to that bar up the road... thought you were gonna try to pick up that- that one chick, the one with the tiny skirt and the sister.
[And why he hadn't, Sam doesn't really remember. He does remember being irritated with Dean, he thinks, telling him to think with the big head for once... pretty much standard complaints.
God, he's never drinking again. All he remembers are flashes of drinking and stumbling back to the motel. And more drinking.] God, I never want to see booze again... you remember anything big?
Reply
Dean shrugged, rootling through the twisted pile by his feet as he sat on the edge. Ignoring the fact their clothes are together like he's ignoring the fact they were in the same bed, apparently reliving their very past childhoods...]
Nope - 'cept my throat's sore as Hell. Think I might've sang the way back...
[this does make him snicker, if only because that was a sure-fire way to piss Sam off. He hoped he'd done it now. Heh.]
Reply
Sharing beds wasn't as easy anymore as when they'd been kids. Two grown men didn't fit as well, not without having to be a tangled heap of limbs apparently.]
Oh shut up. [He pulls a face, using one foot to nudge at Dean's back.]
Everything's sore. [Which he's hoping is either from being cramped in a tiny bed with someone else or falling flat on his ass at some point during the night... both likely enough.]
There's some- advil or something in my bag, grab it for me?
Reply
[he rubs at his eyes as he gropes around with his hand inside until he finds painkillers. These'll do. He doesn't comment that the bottle is half-full. If either of them have been popping a few extra on the go, who cares? More pain than most, he guesses.]
Water... [he almost croaks the word, starting up. Too fast, so he sways a little on his feet, one knee bumping to the bedframe, the edge of the mattress so his face is now level with where Sam's hip is. Blinking, he starts backward quickly -]
Reply
Hey, Dean had to be more used to hangovers than Sam anyway! He should be the one to muscle through and get them... or something.
He lets his eyes drift shut, mumbling in response to the water comments... and it isn't until the bed is shaking with the movement that he opens his eyes and sees Dean's face right there.
It shouldn't be that embarrassing really - it was a trip... still, he pushes himself back anyway, cheeks heating up. Maybe it's just because Dean reacted like that or- just that it was weird being practically naked with Dean in bed anyway... something.
He didn't want to look too deep into it right now.
God, the movement was a bad idea. His body protested it, his head protested... everything was screaming at him. He winced, letting out a soft, pathetic little noise.]
Dude, careful.
Reply
His eyes lift, suspicious... maybe a little fearful to Sam's face as he looks up again. His reaction, coupled with this whole damn situation and the way he - oh holyshit.]
My throat's sore.
[he repeats the fact, slowly, dully. Realisation hitting him, once more and he groans, head tipped to the bed. And burying into it because - damn. He knows exactly what could have gone on last night -]
Reply
[Sam had already snapped the words off before he thought the better of it before he looked back down at him, studying him quietly. He squinted a little at him, frowning.
Shit, what had they done? He thinks he has a clue, but... he doesn't want to think about it.]
I'm gonna go get the water...
[He moves slowly to his feet, ignoring any unsteadiness or dizziness as he goes to the bathroom to fill up a cup. Okay, so- possible blowjob and... other things. He doesn't even- know how to bring up that topic, not with Dean.
He returns shortly and grabs the pills, popping some and swallowing them down with a drink of water before nudging at Dean.] Come on, take some. It'll help with the headache... and, uh, the throat too.
Reply
No. Too soon, waaaay too soon to make jokes about it. Could you even joke about this? It wasn't like the first time, but it didn't mean the panic was any less. The questions and the guilt any less.
He heaved a deep, self-deprecating sigh. Disgusted. Not with what they'd done, more that... he'd let it happen again.
Why did he get drunk anymore when this was always a risk? Why couldn't Sam let him alone to drink, so the chances were less? Then again - there were times it didn't matter and he's just started in on him when he got back. Those were the worst, he thinks, running hands through his hair, spiking it up at odd angles as he breathed out. Because it was practically like he forced Sam those times, right? Right?]
...Yeah. [he nods his thanks, not trusting himself to speak more. He can't look at Sam right now. The water is a God-send, cool against his throat. He ignores the painkillers.]
Reply
Reply
But at the back of his mind was another, more pressing thought: Dean wanted to talk. Really talk about this shit, maybe - maybe even get it out in the open. He was shocked at himself, sure. But this wasn't some sudden urge -
He glanced up quickly, at Sam. Looking at him, and really taking him in. All his features, what he felt he saw in his eyes. Pity, probably... disgust at worst.] Huh.
[he looked away, clenching his hand against his knee, the other at his side. Tight fists because.. yeah. It's there. Even right now, when he feels like shit. That crawling heat, that feeling inside him that he just - wants him. Wants Sam, even if he can't really do anything right now. It's burning inside and avoiding it just makes this shit happen. He has to - fuck, he had to deal with this -] Uh... shower. I'll -
Reply
He can't get himself to move though. He frowns, looking down and idly pushes a hand through his hair... it's a mess anyway and that probably just messes it up even more though.] Look... This isn't- any different from any other time, Dean. It won't happen again.
[It was all he could think to do, only thing to offer... but it's not the first time either one of them have said it and it'd happen again when they couldn't ignore it anymore.]
Reply
Damn right it's not gonna happen again. [he mutters, gathering up clothes - new ones, he's not nearly ready enough to tackle that pile on the floor after he saw just why they were sticking together! - and shakes his head.] Wait - my head's gonna split open, man - just. Lemme shower first.
[talk, he thought. They had to talk. This couldn't keep happening, and he meant it. This time, for sure.]
Reply
Leave a comment