|Morning, Supernatural, Dean/Sam, Rated R
||[Jan. 15th, 2007|12:21 am]
Fanfiction; It's like a drug-addiction
Word Count: about 700
Disclaimers: I do not own Supernatural or its characters or make any money from them.
Notes: The story takes place sometime after the current TV shows.
Summary: Sam’s thoughts as he wakes up during a thunderstorm.
Sam lay in the bed listening to the rain pounding against the roof and the wind blowing against the window. He vaguely wondered if there were any storm warnings but he’d long since turned the TV off. Hoped the car would be alright and tried to remember if he’d rolled up the window in the back completely. Sometimes it stuck about a half inch from closing and had to be coaxed all the way up. Too late now if it wasn’t, the rain had been coming down steadily for at least ten minutes and he wasn’t about to crawl out of his warm cocoon to go check. If it was wet there was nothing that would help, it would dry out…always had before.
Why was he awake anyway? He’d been exhausted earlier, sure that he’d be able to sleep through the night and most of the next day. What time was it anyway? Hard to tell if it was still night or early morning darkened by the thunderstorm. His watch was out of reach somewhere on the nightstand.
He turned his head slightly to look at the window, lightening flickering around the edges. His cheek brushed the soft hair on the head that was tucked snugly into the side of his neck. A warm breath tickled his throat. An arm was bent across him, gold band winking occasionally on the hand that lay possessively over his heart.
Sam’s left arm was slightly tingly under the warm body, ready to fall asleep, but his hand, also with a new golden band on one of the fingers, had found soft, satiny skin to caress. A leg was tucked intimately between his own, thigh pushed tight against his balls and causing him to bend his own leg up and a little out of the way. Definitely this was the best place to be.
Not for the first time Sam wondered how this had come to be. When he had despaired of finding any kind of real, lasting happiness after the deaths of most of his family and the kind of life he had chosen to live. It had slipped up on him…the happiness, the contentment. Was it something newly formed out of everything he had been through? Or had it always been there, but quiet and under the surface and waiting for him to discover it.
Now the long, tiring days spent riding in a car or staring at a computer screen or chasing something that wasn’t suppose to be able to exist through old cemeteries and dark woods, were tempered by a desire to always see distinctive eyes, sometimes bright and laughing and sometimes dark and worried. By a need to watch the expressive face, once an enigma but now more familiar and easier read. The soft mouth and satin smooth skin laid over hard muscle simply drove him crazy. He realized there was nothing else he really needed, he had it all. If he died today he would die a happy man with no regrets for the life he had led and decisions that had been made.
Sam stirred again slightly, realizing from the changing light and diminishing rain that it was morning after all, another night gone and he probably hadn’t gotten enough sleep again but that was okay. He felt a little wiggling against his side, heard a soft sigh.
Sam pulled his head back a little and shifted his body so he could look at the freckled face lying against his shoulder. Sometimes Sam still felt in awe when he looked at him like this. So familiar and yet so different. Old feelings not cancelled out by the new feelings but melded together somehow that made everything just right. He blew gently across the pale face, ruffling the dark lashes and causing a sharp intake of breath. Sleepy green eyes opened and looked at him. The soft, full mouth slowly pulled into a knowing smile. “Morning, Sunshine,” Sam said, as he slowly lowered his mouth to Dean’s.