Ficlet - Bent
So maybe I'm getting a little carried away with the spn_rambleon prompts. Whatever.
Title: Bent
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: R
W/C: ~670
Summary: Songfic, written for a prompt by geckoholic at spn_rambleon, who wanted a fic set to Matchbox Twenty’s “Bent”.
Things started off slow. Dean with his usual What? I’m fine, I don’t remember anything, ridiculously thinking that Sam didn’t know better. That Sam couldn’t see it in his eyes when Dean thought he wasn’t looking. That Sam didn’t hear the screaming from his nightmares when he was three feet away on the next bed in their motel room.
If I couldn't sleep could you sleep
Could you paint me better off
Could you sympathize with my needs
I know you think I need a lot
He didn’t want Sam to think he needed anything. Dean was the older brother, and yeah, Hell, whatever, that didn’t change his instinctive motivation to be the one doing the comforting when it was called for.
It didn’t last. It couldn’t last. Dean’s looks and fake grins and lopsided jokes got him nowhere as Sam realized just how damaged his brother was. And yeah, maybe Dean had broken in Hell. But now, back here, he wasn’t broken. But he was sure as hell bent. And that would never do. Sam couldn’t stand it.
He waited until a night when Dean was exhausted, half-drunk and torn between wanting so badly to sleep and dreading what sleep would bring.
“Please, Dean. Please, tell me. Whatever you need, I will give you anything, I will do fucking anything, but you can’t keep pretending like this.
I started out clean but I'm jaded
Just phoning it in
Just breaking the skin
“I’m just…I don’t know. Tired. Confused. It shouldn’t be so complicated, you know? I got out, I’m back, I’m here with you. And yeah, we’ve got this whole breaking seals thing going on, but shit, it’s better than…well, you know, better than that. Better than before. But it’s been months now and I’m starting to feel like I’ll never be the same again, I’ll never get put back together into the person I was before.” It was a shameful admission, though it shouldn’t have been.
Forty years in Hell and Dean was fucking ashamed that he’d come back different? Sam couldn’t bear it. “Dean, I meant what I said. I’ll pick you up, I’ll help you walk, I’ll be your fucking breath if I have to. Anything. Do you understand me? Anything”, he finished, moving in closer and hesitantly pulling his brother into a close embrace, probably for a little longer than he should have.
It was about time they quit dancing around it, anyway. “You keep falling, Dean, and every fucking time you’re going to land on me. And I’ll hold you up. I’ll put you back together. As much as I can. For as long as I can. You can smile all you want, but you know it looks old and faded. I’m gonna make it real again. I will, I swear”, he finished, pulling back just a little bit.
Looking directly into each other’s eyes, Dean finally said what he’d been too afraid to say before.
“Don’t let go. Please, Sammy.”
Just touch me and then
Just touch me again
Sam leaned in then and kissed his brother, chaste at first and then more passionate when the action was reciprocated.
The night progressed and ended with them both naked, sated, sweating, and again, confused. Not exactly sure.
“Sam. I’m so scared. What is this going to do to us? You’re gonna end up just as broken as I am. We can’t-”
“Shhhh, Dean, don’t. Just don’t. We’re not doing anything we didn’t want to do before. I need it as much as you do. And anyway, you’re not broken.”
Dean choked out a laugh at that comment. “Not broken? Seriously? What do you call this then?”
Keep breaking me in,
And this is how we will end
“Maybe just a little bent. We’ll straighten you back up. You’re gonna be fine, we’re both gonna be fine. As long as we have each other, right?”
You're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
“Yeah”, Dean replied, “yeah, okay.”
Title: Bent
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: R
W/C: ~670
Summary: Songfic, written for a prompt by geckoholic at spn_rambleon, who wanted a fic set to Matchbox Twenty’s “Bent”.
Things started off slow. Dean with his usual What? I’m fine, I don’t remember anything, ridiculously thinking that Sam didn’t know better. That Sam couldn’t see it in his eyes when Dean thought he wasn’t looking. That Sam didn’t hear the screaming from his nightmares when he was three feet away on the next bed in their motel room.
If I couldn't sleep could you sleep
Could you paint me better off
Could you sympathize with my needs
I know you think I need a lot
He didn’t want Sam to think he needed anything. Dean was the older brother, and yeah, Hell, whatever, that didn’t change his instinctive motivation to be the one doing the comforting when it was called for.
It didn’t last. It couldn’t last. Dean’s looks and fake grins and lopsided jokes got him nowhere as Sam realized just how damaged his brother was. And yeah, maybe Dean had broken in Hell. But now, back here, he wasn’t broken. But he was sure as hell bent. And that would never do. Sam couldn’t stand it.
He waited until a night when Dean was exhausted, half-drunk and torn between wanting so badly to sleep and dreading what sleep would bring.
“Please, Dean. Please, tell me. Whatever you need, I will give you anything, I will do fucking anything, but you can’t keep pretending like this.
I started out clean but I'm jaded
Just phoning it in
Just breaking the skin
“I’m just…I don’t know. Tired. Confused. It shouldn’t be so complicated, you know? I got out, I’m back, I’m here with you. And yeah, we’ve got this whole breaking seals thing going on, but shit, it’s better than…well, you know, better than that. Better than before. But it’s been months now and I’m starting to feel like I’ll never be the same again, I’ll never get put back together into the person I was before.” It was a shameful admission, though it shouldn’t have been.
Forty years in Hell and Dean was fucking ashamed that he’d come back different? Sam couldn’t bear it. “Dean, I meant what I said. I’ll pick you up, I’ll help you walk, I’ll be your fucking breath if I have to. Anything. Do you understand me? Anything”, he finished, moving in closer and hesitantly pulling his brother into a close embrace, probably for a little longer than he should have.
It was about time they quit dancing around it, anyway. “You keep falling, Dean, and every fucking time you’re going to land on me. And I’ll hold you up. I’ll put you back together. As much as I can. For as long as I can. You can smile all you want, but you know it looks old and faded. I’m gonna make it real again. I will, I swear”, he finished, pulling back just a little bit.
Looking directly into each other’s eyes, Dean finally said what he’d been too afraid to say before.
“Don’t let go. Please, Sammy.”
Just touch me and then
Just touch me again
Sam leaned in then and kissed his brother, chaste at first and then more passionate when the action was reciprocated.
The night progressed and ended with them both naked, sated, sweating, and again, confused. Not exactly sure.
“Sam. I’m so scared. What is this going to do to us? You’re gonna end up just as broken as I am. We can’t-”
“Shhhh, Dean, don’t. Just don’t. We’re not doing anything we didn’t want to do before. I need it as much as you do. And anyway, you’re not broken.”
Dean choked out a laugh at that comment. “Not broken? Seriously? What do you call this then?”
Keep breaking me in,
And this is how we will end
“Maybe just a little bent. We’ll straighten you back up. You’re gonna be fine, we’re both gonna be fine. As long as we have each other, right?”
You're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
“Yeah”, Dean replied, “yeah, okay.”