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Fic: Our Thing
Title: Our Thing
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Word Count: 768
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: With the Winchester family reunited, Dean and Sam trying to figure out what - if anything - they should tell their parents about their relationship.
Warnings/tags: Sibling incest, angst, guilt, fluff, handholding
A/N: Written for the Swan Song Bingo, Lebanon square (season 14). Takes place during S14E13, "Lebanon." I feel like this is kind of a weird premise for a fic, but I couldn't stop wondering how they'd deal with their parents being back if Wincest was canon. So, here we are. It's full of feelings and cuteness, I promise!
Read on AO3
***
The Impala roared down the highway in the darkness, towards Lebanon. Sam and Dean were silent. After a few minutes, Dean reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand, threading their fingers together. His eyes remained trained on the road.
Sam looked at him, but Dean said nothing. Sam’s chest hurt. He was full to bursting with the emotions of the day. Dean must be, too. He wasn’t usually the handholding type.
“You okay?” Sam asked, knowing Dean probably wouldn’t appreciate the question but unable to stop himself.
Dean didn’t say anything. Sam thought he was going to ignore him. Sam looked away from his brother, staring through the windshield into the night.
“If he’s back for good – ” Dean said suddenly. Sam looked at Dean’s shadowy profile again, frowning. Dean’s voice was thick with emotion. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, he sounded a little more normal. “If he’s back for good, what are we – what do we do about this?” He squeezed Sam’s hand even tighter, sparing Sam an anguished glance before quickly refocusing on the road.
“About…us?” Sam said carefully. Their more-than-brotherly relationship was long established, but Dean still had trouble talking about it out loud sometimes.
“Yeah,” Dean said.
Sam felt a sickening surge of fear as the thought occurred to him that Dean was maybe going to say they should stop. “What do you mean?”
“I mean – ” Dean swallowed. “Do – do we tell them? Him and Mom?”
Sam blinked. “You want to tell them?”
“No,” Dean said immediately. “God, fuck – not even a little bit. But maybe we – should?”
Sam hesitated, not sure how to respond to this. “Well, we never told Dad when he was alive,” he said.
“Not that we really had a chance,” Dean muttered. They hadn’t started having sex until after Stanford. Sam decided not to point out that even if Dad had been around for longer, Dean had felt far too guilty about it in the early days to be okay with telling him.
“And we’ve been able to keep it from Mom,” Sam said. It hadn’t been difficult, given how she’d been living elsewhere or trapped in the Apocalypse world almost the whole time she’d been back.
“Yeah,” Dean said. “But with both of them here…maybe they’re gonna be around more. Maybe they’re gonna want to live in the bunker.” He glanced at Sam again. Sam furrowed his brow in concern at Dean’s worried expression.
Suddenly, Dean slowed and turned the wheel sharply, pulling over to the side of the road and putting the car in park with his left hand so he didn’t have to let go of Sam. He stared down at their clasped hands.
“I just don’t want to have to sneak around all the time,” he said in a rush. “I – look, I know I’ve always had a harder time than you with, you know, accepting what we have, and I know I’ve probably made you feel like shit about it sometimes.”
“Dean – ” Sam started, shocked at this admission, his heart aching at Dean’s obvious struggle.
“Let me say this,” Dean interrupted. “I just – I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you.” He took a shuddering breath and lifted pleading eyes to Sam’s face. “I’m not ashamed of you, Sammy. I felt guilty about it because I thought I was fucked-up and fucking you up with what I wanted, but – but it was never about you.” He raised Sam’s hand and pressed his lips to Sam’s knuckles fervently.
“Dean,” Sam said softly, trying to fight back tears. “I know. It’s okay. You’ve always made me feel loved.” He leaned forward and kissed Dean hard, trying to pour his own love and faith into it. Dean kissed him back, opening to him, their tongues touching for a moment before Sam pulled back.
“So…do you think we should tell them?” Dean asked.
Sam blew out a breath. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe. It might be hard for them to understand…but maybe it’s important that we try. Or maybe not, because it’s our thing.” Dean nodded, and Sam tried to smile at him. “I guess we should both think it over for awhile. Whatever we decide, we’ll do it together, okay?”
Dean nodded and gave Sam a little smile back. “Like we always do,” he said.
“Like we always do.”
Dean squeezed Sam’s hand again and released it to put the Impala back in gear. The car surged forward and they sped off down the highway. Sam put his hand on Dean’s knee, just in case Dean needed it.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Word Count: 768
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: With the Winchester family reunited, Dean and Sam trying to figure out what - if anything - they should tell their parents about their relationship.
Warnings/tags: Sibling incest, angst, guilt, fluff, handholding
A/N: Written for the Swan Song Bingo, Lebanon square (season 14). Takes place during S14E13, "Lebanon." I feel like this is kind of a weird premise for a fic, but I couldn't stop wondering how they'd deal with their parents being back if Wincest was canon. So, here we are. It's full of feelings and cuteness, I promise!
Read on AO3
***
The Impala roared down the highway in the darkness, towards Lebanon. Sam and Dean were silent. After a few minutes, Dean reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand, threading their fingers together. His eyes remained trained on the road.
Sam looked at him, but Dean said nothing. Sam’s chest hurt. He was full to bursting with the emotions of the day. Dean must be, too. He wasn’t usually the handholding type.
“You okay?” Sam asked, knowing Dean probably wouldn’t appreciate the question but unable to stop himself.
Dean didn’t say anything. Sam thought he was going to ignore him. Sam looked away from his brother, staring through the windshield into the night.
“If he’s back for good – ” Dean said suddenly. Sam looked at Dean’s shadowy profile again, frowning. Dean’s voice was thick with emotion. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, he sounded a little more normal. “If he’s back for good, what are we – what do we do about this?” He squeezed Sam’s hand even tighter, sparing Sam an anguished glance before quickly refocusing on the road.
“About…us?” Sam said carefully. Their more-than-brotherly relationship was long established, but Dean still had trouble talking about it out loud sometimes.
“Yeah,” Dean said.
Sam felt a sickening surge of fear as the thought occurred to him that Dean was maybe going to say they should stop. “What do you mean?”
“I mean – ” Dean swallowed. “Do – do we tell them? Him and Mom?”
Sam blinked. “You want to tell them?”
“No,” Dean said immediately. “God, fuck – not even a little bit. But maybe we – should?”
Sam hesitated, not sure how to respond to this. “Well, we never told Dad when he was alive,” he said.
“Not that we really had a chance,” Dean muttered. They hadn’t started having sex until after Stanford. Sam decided not to point out that even if Dad had been around for longer, Dean had felt far too guilty about it in the early days to be okay with telling him.
“And we’ve been able to keep it from Mom,” Sam said. It hadn’t been difficult, given how she’d been living elsewhere or trapped in the Apocalypse world almost the whole time she’d been back.
“Yeah,” Dean said. “But with both of them here…maybe they’re gonna be around more. Maybe they’re gonna want to live in the bunker.” He glanced at Sam again. Sam furrowed his brow in concern at Dean’s worried expression.
Suddenly, Dean slowed and turned the wheel sharply, pulling over to the side of the road and putting the car in park with his left hand so he didn’t have to let go of Sam. He stared down at their clasped hands.
“I just don’t want to have to sneak around all the time,” he said in a rush. “I – look, I know I’ve always had a harder time than you with, you know, accepting what we have, and I know I’ve probably made you feel like shit about it sometimes.”
“Dean – ” Sam started, shocked at this admission, his heart aching at Dean’s obvious struggle.
“Let me say this,” Dean interrupted. “I just – I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you.” He took a shuddering breath and lifted pleading eyes to Sam’s face. “I’m not ashamed of you, Sammy. I felt guilty about it because I thought I was fucked-up and fucking you up with what I wanted, but – but it was never about you.” He raised Sam’s hand and pressed his lips to Sam’s knuckles fervently.
“Dean,” Sam said softly, trying to fight back tears. “I know. It’s okay. You’ve always made me feel loved.” He leaned forward and kissed Dean hard, trying to pour his own love and faith into it. Dean kissed him back, opening to him, their tongues touching for a moment before Sam pulled back.
“So…do you think we should tell them?” Dean asked.
Sam blew out a breath. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe. It might be hard for them to understand…but maybe it’s important that we try. Or maybe not, because it’s our thing.” Dean nodded, and Sam tried to smile at him. “I guess we should both think it over for awhile. Whatever we decide, we’ll do it together, okay?”
Dean nodded and gave Sam a little smile back. “Like we always do,” he said.
“Like we always do.”
Dean squeezed Sam’s hand again and released it to put the Impala back in gear. The car surged forward and they sped off down the highway. Sam put his hand on Dean’s knee, just in case Dean needed it.