#deanpizzapie

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

Highly aware of Sam’s every movement, Dean was wary from the second Sam got up and out of his chair.  He was going to offer to get him whatever he needed, but before he had the chance, Sam wrapped his strong arms around Dean.

Dean stiffened.  Afraid to feel  Afraid of the thoughts and needs that coursed through him.  Afraid to fuck up their relationship.  He took a deep breath, his stomach tightening as Sam pressed his face against Dean’s neck in a gesture reserved for lovers, not brothers.

He didn’t know what was coming.  And the knife he’d been holding slipped out of his nerveless fingers.  And then Sam was whispering in his ear, his hot breath fanning across Dean’s sensitive skin.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not afraid of anything,” Dean automatically answered, a muscle throbbing in his jaw.  But he was lying, and they both knew it.  "Why don’t we… lemme finish making your dinner,“ he said, is voice a little thick with emotion.  It would be better to get it over with now, he knew it, but he wasn’t sure how to go there.  Not really.

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

"Why don’t we… lemme finish making your dinner.”

Sam growled, manhandling Dean around to face him in a burst of anger and caging him against the counter.

“No. Now.”

A part of him that he did not like to admit to was more than a little pleased at the mix of shock and borderline terror on Dean’s face at Sam’s aggression.

Good, Sam couldn’t help but think with mean satisfaction, About time I had your attention.

“Just cut the crap, Dean. Stop treating me like I’m a bomb about to go off and stop trying to guilt yourself over this. It happened. It’s something we both want. I’m so fucking sick of feeling guilty for the things I want in my life. And I’m so fucking sick of feeling guilty for wanting you. So the least you can do is look me in the eye and talk to me about this because I am tired of tip-toeing around it like it’s going to break us.”

[faequeentitania]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

deanpizzapie:

“Okay then.”  Dean was surprised at hell that he, that they both, were taking this in stride.  But he wasn’t fighting it.  Wasn’t gonna go looking for guilt.  He’d been there, done that.  What had it gotten him?  Nuthin’

“So,” he lovingly ran his knuckles over the side of Sam’s face.  “Don’t get mad, but I gotta know.  You got some sort of rule about staying in bed for a certain amount of time before, you know, eating?  I gotta tell you, sex makes me hungry.”  He grinned at Sam.  “Some people smoke, I eat.”

“Some people smoke, I eat.”

Sam snorted, pushing himself up and spanning his hand over Dean’s chest, propping himself up over his brother.

“In all fairness, I stopped you from cooking,” he countered, leaning down and pressing his lips against Dean’s, “So I guess I’ll let it slide this time.”

With a final kiss he laid back down, sighing and slinging an arm over his eyes.

“Go on,” he sighed, waving his free hand lazily, “Go on, glutton. Just make sure to save me some.”

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

Dean was highly aware of Sam’s every movement.  Whether he looked over at him or not, he knew the instant Sam put the laptop aside and pulled the blanket off.  The moment he stood, and the fact that he was walking toward the kitchen.  His breath hitched a little, until Sam pulled the chair at the kitchen table out and sat.

He was trying not to show signs of nervousness, but feeling the weight of Sam’s gaze, he knew he was doing a crappy job of it.  

He had the paste in the water, and was just about to cut the washed lettuce, when Sam touched him.  His gaze immediately dropped down to Sam’s and on his arm.

Dude, you’ve been sleeping next to him, not touching him that way for days.  So what if his hand is on you now?  

It didn’t mean his heart wasn’t racing.  Or his mind.  The things he wanted.  Wrong things.  The hows and whys.  The freaking talk they’d have to have.

He gave a stiff nod.  ”Fine.  Now that you’re okay,” he added, stealing a glance before pulling away to get to work on the salad.  ”Shall I get you the blanket?”  The fire was roaring and the cabin was warm.

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

Sam shook his head at Dean’s question. He actually felt pretty decent at the moment, and sitting by the stove would help keep him warm too, “I’m ok.”

Sam’s hand slipped off Dean’s arm as his brother turned to continue making their dinner. It all felt strange, this limbo they were in. The past few days had been all but silent, save for Dean’s occasional questions about how he felt and Sam’s short responses. Anxiety had been slowly amping up in his chest over it, and he bit his lip as he thought, yet again, of how to make Dean talk about this.

Why do you have to be so difficult? Sam couldn’t help but think at Dean, sighing. Dean wrapped himself so tight in his macho, talking-is-for-chicks bullheadedness that Sam was often surprised he didn’t suffocate himself with it.

Well, now it was suffocating them both, and so help him, they were going to sort this out before they left this cabin. Preferably immediately, because Sam was tired of waiting on Dean to get his head out of his ass.

It was that thought that propelled him out of his seat, coming up behind Dean and wrapping his arms around him tightly. Sam sighed as he dropped his head down onto Dean’s shoulder, face pressed against the warm side of his neck, and instantly relaxed by the smell of his brother’s cologne.

“So…” he drawled in Dean’s ear, “You gonna stop acting like you’re afraid of your own shadow around me, or what?”

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

What kind of question was that?  Sam needed to hit him because he was a disgusting perv who had taken advantage of Sam while Sam was sick. Didn’t matter that he’d been asleep, ‘cause yeah, he’d had these thoughts about Sam all damned night.  It was inexcusable.  It was gonna be right there, between them, from now into forever.  Everything had changed.  He’d ruined the single one best thing in his life… seeing the trust in his brother’s eyes.  How could Sam ever trust him again?

The sudden kiss took him by surprise.  He wasn’t sure what to make of it, and sat there listening.  Sam was making excuses, blaming himself. Himself, when he hadn’t done a damned thing, and it was all Dean’s fault.  Dean felt his skin crawl. “No no no…” he started, wanting Sam to shut up, to stop blaming himself, to stop trying to make him feel better.

The hard shake had Dean’s teeth rattling together, but it got his attention.  Nostrils flaring, he listened with disbelief.  And then Sam’s soft lips were on his again, kissing him.  This time, Dean couldn’t help himself.  He responded, kissing him back, a part of him thinking this had to be a dream.  That he hadn’t woken.

Then Sam was whispering again, touching his forehead to Dean’s. Saying things Dean didn’t know whether he should believe.  He put his hands on Sam’s shoulders, gripping him hard.  ”Sam.  You.  Me.  We can’t…” he choked, because right there and then, he knew they could, and that he wanted it.  ”Sam.”

He lifted his face, his eyes burning.  Tugging on Sam, this time he slanted his mouth over Sam’s, kissing him hard, with all the confusion, all the love and hope, all the disturbing feelings and desires storming inside him.

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

If Sam had been standing, his knees certainly would have gone weak with the force of Dean kissing him.

He poured his heart into returning the kiss, wanting Dean to know how serious he was, how much he wanted this. He didn’t want to give Dean a shred of doubt that this was something he wanted.

Sam got lost in it; the feel of Dean’s soft, short hair under his fingers, the plush feel of his lips and the silky heat of his tongue pressing against Sam’s. He would have done this for hours, pulled Dean down on the bed and kissed him until his lips were bruised, if his lungs didn’t suddenly remind him that he wasn’t quite in the optimal condition for such a thing.

He jerked away, turning his head as far from Dean as he could and holding his brother at arm’s length as a coughing fit overtook him.

He gasped when he could finally breathe again, turning to look at Dean miserably.

“Fuck, I’m gonna get you sick,” he said hoarsely, biting his lip and tracing his thumb over Dean’s mouth gently, wishing so desperately to kiss him again, “Promise me I have more of this waiting for me when I’m better. Please.”

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

Dean eased his hold to let Sam cough comfortably, but didn’t let him go completely.  ”I wasn’t stuck in a refrig—” he broke off as Sam dragged his finger along Dean’s lips.  Catching it between his teeth, Dean gave a low chuckle and released it, listening to Sam.  

He brushed the hair out of Sam’s face, pushing it off his forehead.  ”If you feel the same, once you’re better, I’ll still be here.”  He still struggled a little with the hows, and whys, and whether it was the right thing.  But he had the feeling that nothing they did, no measures they took, would prevent them from eventually reaching this same point.

“Rest,” he ordered, kissing Sam lightly, before tucking him back down in bed.  "If I grope you again, you have my permission to elbow me.“ 

~*~*~

They’d been there for three days, and Sam was definitely getting better even though he slept most of the time.  Dean had gone out to get more supplies and was just unloading the back of the car.  They hadn’t talked about what happened, and how they were going to move forward, but they’d communicated with their eyes, and nothing had changed.

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

Sam looked up from the computer at the unmistakable sound of the impala returning. Instinctually, he began to get up to go help, but thought better of it a moment later. He had the feeling Dean would yell at him and shoo him back inside before he got both feet out the door anyway, so he decided not to bother to even try.

He resituated the blanket on his lap instead, and tilted his head from where he was sitting on the sofa (dressed, for the first time in three days, hallelujah) to watch his brother through one of the windows.

They hadn’t talked about things since That Night, but Sam had refused to let Dean start second-guessing himself. He tried to encourage Dean subtly, and as frequently as he could with meaningful looks and lingering touches.

Keeping his hands to himself when they were both in bed at night was exceedingly difficult, but he knew he needed to. He had been barely functioning enough to sit up and feed himself, it wouldn’t have been fair to risk revving Dean up and not being able to follow through, just because Sam was feeling needy.

Even Dean was keeping his hands to himself, despite the dream-groping that had started this whole thing. Sam was convinced it was because Dean was too nervous to sleep properly, but for right now he was going to leave it be. Things would be different when he was well.

The sound of the trunk slamming closed was loud and sharp out in the middle of nowhere like they were, and Sam admired Dean’s profile from his seat in the house. He still wasn’t 100%, but he was nearly there. His cough, thankfully, was almost completely gone, and the full body ache was reduced to a dull twinge now and then.

Finally Dean made it inside, and Sam gave him a small smile in greeting.

"How was civilization?”

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

Although he was loaded down with bags, Dean’s gaze immediately went to the empty bed, but now swung to the couch.  He gave Sam a long look, then decided he looked well enough to get out of bed.  ”You didn’t miss anything,” he answered, heading to the kitchen.

Setting the bags down, he looked back at Sam.  ”You look better.”  Still a little pale, but amazing.  His eyes said what he couldn’t bring himself to, at least yet.  

“I think it’s time to get a little solid food in you.  Spaghetti with meat sauce?” he asked, then picked up the lettuce so Sam would see he’d brought his rabbit of a brother something green.  "Or I can make burgers. I would have picked up some food but it would be cold by the time I got here.“

He knew, sometime soon, they’d have to talk about it.  The thought gave him the jitters.  It was a little like the mine field he didn’t want to cross, but he knew once he got to the other side, he would feel a lot better.  

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

Sam’s mouth watered that the mention of spaghetti, and he smiled at the head of lettuce Dean held up. After days of playing it safe with soup and sparse sandwiches, he was dying for more significant food.

"Spaghetti sounds amazing, thank you,” Sam said with nod.

He slid his laptop to the side and closed it, then hauled himself to his feet and tossed the blanket over the back of the sofa. He watched Dean busying himself in the little kitchen as he made his way over to the table and had a seat.

His brother seemed nervous, fidgety in a way he hardly ever was and Sam couldn’t help but reach out and touch his arm gently.

“You ok?” he asked, though he could guess what was on Dean’s mind. They would need to talk about things, soon, and considering their track record with having emotional conversations, he knew it was going to be a rough process.

All he wanted was to come out the other side of this with he and Dean able to lay out everything between them; to stop pretending they didn’t want the same thing.

It would change everything.

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

As Dean fed Sam, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being scrutinized.  But he never really caught Sam looking at him or anything. Maybe it was just the situation, one or both of them felt awkward about it.  He wasn’t sure and couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I will,” he agreed, giving Sam a smile.  He’d left the tylenol bottle out anyway, just for that purpose.

“Alright,” Dean gave a nod and set the bowl down on the nightstand, getting up at the same time.  He grabbed the sheet, and pulled it up over Sam’s shoulders.  The blanket was at the bottom of the bed, but he left it there.  

“I will,” he promised, running his hand over Sam’s forehead and pushing his hair back in he process.  "Go to sleep.“

As he walked to the kitchen with the bowl, Dean looked at his palm.  It felt warm, as if he still had it on Sam’s forehead.  Glancing over his shoulder at his brother, he steadfastly moved to the kitchen to wash up, and get a little to eat for himself.

About a half hour later, he walked around the bed.  Toeing off his boods, then stripping off his jeans, he got under the covers.  He could feel the heat emanating from his brother, even though they weren’t touching. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and forced himself to think of pure thoughts.

Whiskey

Strippers

Dark alleys, hot grunts

Yeah, that wasn’t working so well.

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

Sam woke up slowly, feeling groggy and his limbs heavy.

He opened his eyes, and the sight of Dean’s broad back so close to him almost startled him.

He watched the rise and fall of Dean’s shoulders with every breath he took, almost hypnotised by it. He thought briefly of the Tylenol bottle and the glass of water on the table, sure it was safe to take some more by now, but let the thought slip away, the desire for his brother to rest taking priority. He’d wake Dean in a little while.

Sam let his eyes slip closed again, just listening to his brother breathing and the wanting nothing more than to feel the inhale-exhale of Dean’s chest against his cheek.

It had been a long time since he and Dean had shared a bed. There was a time when that had been the regular sleeping arrangement; Dad in one bed and he and Dean in the other. Sam had peaceful memories of that. Of the weight of Dean’s arm around his shoulders and his slow breathing tickling the hair on the top of Sam’s head.

Sam turned his face into the pillow as longing bubbled up inside his chest. He wasn’t sure if being sick was just making him feel sorry for himself or what, but suddenly it didn’t matter because he was sliding closer across the small space of mattress between them.

He stopped with only the smallest of distance between them, keeping himself from pressing up flush against Dean’s back with the upmost restraint. He only allowed himself to press his forehead to the top of Dean’s back, inhaling Dean’s familiar scent and telling himself he would find a way to justify this to his brother if he woke up.

I just need this, he thought desperately, I just need this…

[deanpizzapie-blog]

I'd Take the Wampa Over This- deanpizzapie

Dean’s dreams were muddled.  It was as if the battle that raged inside him when he was awake, continued in his dreams.  Visions of his brother’s large hands gripping him tight, of his voice husky and needy, of his lips pressing insistently against Dean’s were replaced by other visions.  Visions of women in skimpy clothes.  Of painted nails scratching across his back, rescuing him from sinful desires.  Helping him do what he was born to do, protect his brother, from everyone and everything, including himself.

Dean felt hot breaths scorching the sensitive skin of his neck.  A heated touch.  An invitation.  The temptation of relief.

Slowly rolling over, he brought his mouth down over his bed mates in a hot, fiery kiss.  It was uncanny, how he found it without ever opening his eyes, or completely waking.  Making a soft sound, he ground his hips over his lover’s, his dick so damned hard from the torturous dreams, he could pound nails with it.  

[beautifulmindbrother-archived]

Sam lost his breath when he suddenly found Dean half over him, pressing him into the mattress with his hips and pushing his mouth insistently against Sam’s.

He didn’t know what to do. The good, logical part of his brain was yelling at him to pull away, to wake Dean up, stop this in it’s tracks before it got serious.

But then Dean did something ridiculous with his tongue and Sam all but melted into the sheets, one tentative arm going around his brother as he allowed himself to kiss back.

Such a bad idea, such a bad idea! he thought frantically, but he couldn’t get himself to stop, the deep, aching want for Dean overriding everything else.

He traced a hand along his brother’s back delicately, and almost groaned when the friction of Dean’s hips rubbed just right, sending pleasure up his spine like a shock of electricity.

It would be so easy, the distant idea of reaching between them. Of sliding his hand into the loose openings in the front of their boxers to guide their cocks out, putting them skin to skin. He could almost claim it an accident; the shift of fabric making it happen all on it’s own.

Fuck.