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Entry tags:
Fic: Seas Between Us
Title: Seas Between Us
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Genre: Slash, fluff
Word Count: 687
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Sam and Dean celebrate the new year.
Prompt: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_bigpretzel 12 Days of Christmas challenge.
A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!
Read on AO3
***
Dean had been wondering for almost a week what was going on between him and Sam.
It had started on Christmas Day. They hadn’t exchanged gifts or gotten a tree or anything like that, but Sam wanted to get dinner, and Dean had agreed. There was a Chinese place in downtown Lebanon that, while not exactly fancy, wasn’t a dump. More importantly, it had surprisingly decent food. And most importantly, it was open on Christmas.
Halfway through dinner, Dean suddenly realized that Sam had stopped eating. Dean had looked up, brow already furrowing in concern, to see Sam staring at him with an expression so soft and loving that Dean’s mouth dropped open in surprise. He barely managed to keep half-chewed food from falling out.
“What?” he finally managed to ask, when he’d swallowed his moo shu pork.
“Merry Christmas,” was all Sam had to say for himself.
“Uh, merry Christmas,” Dean mumbled, tone suspicious.
Since then, Dean had been thinking about Sam all the time. Which was something he already did, really, but this was different somehow. He kept thinking about when they were kids and Sam used to follow him around. He thought about how now, they pretty much followed each other around all the time. Dean felt the weight of their lifelong history. The times they were separated, and it had felt like there was an ocean between them, a vast gulf. And yet that ocean wasn’t an empty space; it was full of memories and tides of emotion.
Love. Endless waves of love that they rode back to one other, no matter what.
All week Sam kept smiling at Dean; these small, shining smiles that made Dean’s heart leap. He wondered what was going on in Sam’s head.
New Year’s Eve rolled around. At eleven, Sam produced a bottle of champagne, insistent on tradition through Dean’s protests that he wanted whiskey. The champagne made Dean feel drunk in a different way than usual; warm and light-headed. Or maybe that was just the effect of Sam’s bright grins, the flash of his dimples.
At 11:50, they went into Dean’s room and sat on the bed. They turned on the TV and watched inane commentary as they waited for the ball to drop.
At 11:58, Sam spoke. “What a year, huh?” he said softly.
“I guess,” Dean said. It was always “what a year” for them.
Sam looked down into his champagne glass, fiddling with the stem. “Dean, you know…maybe it’s the end of the year vibe, but I keep thinking lately about our lives. Our whole crazy history. And how you’ve always been right there with me. I know we’ve been apart sometimes, but still…” He swallowed.
Dean stared at him. Had Sam been reading his thoughts? Were his weird mind powers suddenly back?
“And I know there’s been bad stuff between us,” Sam continued. “But there’s been so much more that’s good.” Finally, he looked up, into Dean’s face. “You’ve always been my touchstone. Always.”
Five…four… said the television.
And when Sam put down his champagne glass, cupped Dean’s cheek, and kissed him on one, Dean was barely even surprised. It had, after all, been between them all this time. No matter whether Dean had seen it before now or not.
Sam’s lips were warm and Dean kissed him back without even thinking about it. It was long, slow, exploratory; almost chaste, until the very last moment when Dean’s mouth opened naturally. He shivered when Sam’s tongue brushed his.
When Sam pulled back, Dean almost chased after him, heart full and ready for more. But he stopped himself. There was time. It was a brand-new year.
Sam didn’t go far, anyway. He rested his forehead on Dean’s and they stayed that way for a moment, silent, breathing the same air.
Dean lifted his hand and carded his fingers through Sam’s hair. He felt dizzy on champagne and Sam’s proximity. On what was to come.
“Happy New Year, Sammy,” he said, voice husky with everything he was feeling.
Sam’s answering smile was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Genre: Slash, fluff
Word Count: 687
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Sam and Dean celebrate the new year.
Prompt: Written for the
spn_bigpretzel 12 Days of Christmas challenge.A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!
Read on AO3
***
Dean had been wondering for almost a week what was going on between him and Sam.
It had started on Christmas Day. They hadn’t exchanged gifts or gotten a tree or anything like that, but Sam wanted to get dinner, and Dean had agreed. There was a Chinese place in downtown Lebanon that, while not exactly fancy, wasn’t a dump. More importantly, it had surprisingly decent food. And most importantly, it was open on Christmas.
Halfway through dinner, Dean suddenly realized that Sam had stopped eating. Dean had looked up, brow already furrowing in concern, to see Sam staring at him with an expression so soft and loving that Dean’s mouth dropped open in surprise. He barely managed to keep half-chewed food from falling out.
“What?” he finally managed to ask, when he’d swallowed his moo shu pork.
“Merry Christmas,” was all Sam had to say for himself.
“Uh, merry Christmas,” Dean mumbled, tone suspicious.
Since then, Dean had been thinking about Sam all the time. Which was something he already did, really, but this was different somehow. He kept thinking about when they were kids and Sam used to follow him around. He thought about how now, they pretty much followed each other around all the time. Dean felt the weight of their lifelong history. The times they were separated, and it had felt like there was an ocean between them, a vast gulf. And yet that ocean wasn’t an empty space; it was full of memories and tides of emotion.
Love. Endless waves of love that they rode back to one other, no matter what.
All week Sam kept smiling at Dean; these small, shining smiles that made Dean’s heart leap. He wondered what was going on in Sam’s head.
New Year’s Eve rolled around. At eleven, Sam produced a bottle of champagne, insistent on tradition through Dean’s protests that he wanted whiskey. The champagne made Dean feel drunk in a different way than usual; warm and light-headed. Or maybe that was just the effect of Sam’s bright grins, the flash of his dimples.
At 11:50, they went into Dean’s room and sat on the bed. They turned on the TV and watched inane commentary as they waited for the ball to drop.
At 11:58, Sam spoke. “What a year, huh?” he said softly.
“I guess,” Dean said. It was always “what a year” for them.
Sam looked down into his champagne glass, fiddling with the stem. “Dean, you know…maybe it’s the end of the year vibe, but I keep thinking lately about our lives. Our whole crazy history. And how you’ve always been right there with me. I know we’ve been apart sometimes, but still…” He swallowed.
Dean stared at him. Had Sam been reading his thoughts? Were his weird mind powers suddenly back?
“And I know there’s been bad stuff between us,” Sam continued. “But there’s been so much more that’s good.” Finally, he looked up, into Dean’s face. “You’ve always been my touchstone. Always.”
Five…four… said the television.
And when Sam put down his champagne glass, cupped Dean’s cheek, and kissed him on one, Dean was barely even surprised. It had, after all, been between them all this time. No matter whether Dean had seen it before now or not.
Sam’s lips were warm and Dean kissed him back without even thinking about it. It was long, slow, exploratory; almost chaste, until the very last moment when Dean’s mouth opened naturally. He shivered when Sam’s tongue brushed his.
When Sam pulled back, Dean almost chased after him, heart full and ready for more. But he stopped himself. There was time. It was a brand-new year.
Sam didn’t go far, anyway. He rested his forehead on Dean’s and they stayed that way for a moment, silent, breathing the same air.
Dean lifted his hand and carded his fingers through Sam’s hair. He felt dizzy on champagne and Sam’s proximity. On what was to come.
“Happy New Year, Sammy,” he said, voice husky with everything he was feeling.
Sam’s answering smile was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.