Blue Memories

Can't stop it screaming out

Dean/Sam, R - following 3.08 A Very Supernatural Christmas

When Sam glances at him for the first time, Dean thinks nothing of it, just goes back to the game with a casual sip of his egg nog. He's used to having Sam look at him. When they were kids, little Sammy was always looking up to his big brother for guidance, and ten years after the last time Dean could call Sammy “kiddo” without his throwing a fit of epic proportions, not speaking to Dean for weeks, that hasn't changed. Dean can't find fault with Sam's wanting him to play the big brother again. He needs to prepare Sam for living without him, being on the road alone.

When Dean catches Sam looking at him for the second time, though, it feels different from before. Dean knows Sam and all his quirky habits, and the looks Sam gives people he's had enough time to study. Dean can tell his brother's mood with just a glance. But this second time he catches Sam watching him, the heaviness with which Sam's gaze settles on him feels entirely unfamiliar; it's not a look Sam's used on him before. It's an intense look - one that practically burns Dean's skin - and Dean can't help but look back this time, the game all but forgotten as he analyses those familiar eyes. There's alcohol-induced relaxation there, no drunkenness; a lot of tension; and... something else Dean can't quite identify.

It unsettles him. He wonders how much he doesn't know about Sam after all, which really isn't on after so many years, not when he's going down there and all he'll have are fucking memories.

Anger must have shown in his own eyes, because Sam looks away quickly, before Dean has a chance to delve into him. But Dean doesn't look away, just waits for Sam to come back. The game isn't that interesting when something's going on with his brother, and this seems to be something Sam doesn't exactly want to talk about, so. Apparently they've got to talk about it. Sam sulking and unhappy really isn't a fun thing to deal with, and though Dean usually would let him fume he feels generous.

Sam comes back to Dean. When their gazes meet and lock, the heat from Sam's eyes goes directly to Dean's gut. Now its's Dean who looks away hastily; maybe he doesn't want to know the reason for these looks after all.


It doesn't take Sam long to get the hint. He turns away, fiddling with his empty glass. Dean sees it out of the corner of his eye. Not because he wants to, but because the room is so fucking small and the tree is standing right behind Sam, and is it Dean's fault red and green and blue always draw his attention? So Dean's half-looking when Sam turns to him for the third time, and that's when Dean's patience runs out. "What?" The word comes out more gruffly than he intended, but the tension that sits in his gut needs an outlet.

To Dean's surprise, it isn't This is your last Christmas that comes out of Sam's mouth.

"I can't believe you still have this," Sam says. When Dean finally looks over, Sam's eyes are directed straight at his chest and the amulet there.


The silence that follows hangs heavily between them, like smoke. Dean tries to blow it away by laughing, but the sound dies in his thoat when Sam lifts his gaze to meet Dean's. There's an ounce of clarity again: because now Dean recognises unmistakably the heaviness in Sam's eyes. It's the same heaviness that Dean's trying to deny resides in his own heart - the ultimate sin, he thinks, but he's doomed already, so it shouldn't matter anymore. Dean raises his hand to finger the amulet, his eyes still locked with Sam's. His heart is beating so loudly he wonders if Sam can hear it too.

"Of course I do," he says. How could he not? Sam gave it to him.

There must have been a world of words conveyed with this, because something inside Sam's gaze melts. The tension in Dean's gut slowly uncurls as he watches his little brother, something he feels he's been doing all his life. Sam's always been in his vision at least peripherally, in his thoughts at least tangentially; this is just one step further, in his body at least skin-deep.

It's Sam who moves first. Suddenly he's in Dean's lap, just like when they were younger, and he's clinging to Dean, just like when they were younger, and his tongue is licking along Dean's lips. There's no way Dean can pretend that's just like when they were younger, because his dad would have fucking ended him had anything like that ever happened, and besides, Sam's gigantic now and all but crushing Dean.

Dean pushes him off. Sam looks confused and scared, like he's done something wrong. "Sam. Sammy," Dean murmurs, his arms already coming around his brother before this haunted look can take permanent residence in his eyes; they've already had that when Jess died and after Dad too, no need to repeat history more than necessary. Dean pulls Sam down with him on the couch, kissing him, tongue brashly delving into Sam's mouth to map the hitherto unknown territory.

Sam shivers underneath him. "Dean," he whispers in between kisses, and "Dean, Dean, Dean," like there's nothing else in the world, just this, just them and nothing else exists.

"Sam," Dean answers, reassuring. Then there's nothing left to say as they shift and Sam's hand sneaks its way between their bodies, unzipping Dean's pants and pulling his already half-hard cock out. There's a sense of urgency around them now as Sam's hand has him fully hard with just a touch and jacks him off quickly, roughly, and as he comes Dean thinks too soon, shoulda taken you with me, but Sam's persistent and Dean's gone.

When he comes down Sam's still there, like maybe Dean thought he'd freak out on him, but lately whenever he turns around, Sam's always there to catch him. 'Cause I gotta save your ass for a change.

Dean turns to Sam with a small chuckle, burying his face in Sam's shoulder as his hand sneaks its own way down. Sam's his lifeline; Dean can already feel this sense of looming death retreating. Maybe the hellhounds are drawing back, maybe they aren't. Maybe for the moment Dean doesn't care, not because his death doesn't matter to him but because Sam's more important. That's how it's always been.

He's going to hell, and Sam's going to live.

 

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