Dean tells him stories in the dark, words winding through Sam’s head as his fingers twist through Dean’s hair. Sometimes it’s their childhood; the hot, sweaty hours in the back of the Impala while their father wove his trail of obsession across the country. Tonight the car itself is the story; Dean describes her - her, Sammy, not it - as lovingly
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Dean says, Sam, and Sam holds on.
Sam, you will be rewarded. Just tell me what you want.
Sam says, Dean.
It's always about each other with these two... (but somehow that's just the way it's supposed to be).
Anyway, I liked that kind of self-indulgent horror/porn/weirdness. :)
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*sniffle*
Good stuff.
:)
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