brosedshield: (happily ever after)
[personal profile] brosedshield
Title: In His Sleevies
Disclaimer: If anyone owns anything in this relationship, Supernatural owns my heart. And won't give it back. And won't pay me for it.
Characters/Pairing:
Sam/Dean
Rating:
PG
Word count:
1225
Spoilers:
preseries
Summary:
“If you make another ‘humerus’ joke, so help me I’m going to break your jaw."
Author notes:
Fic is based on a bit of dream from this morning. In my waking hours, I've got a mild incest squick, but apparently my subconscious thinks Sam and Dean are sweet...which they are...garh. Thanks always to excellent beta, fandom obsession buddy and best friend [info]lavinialavender. This fic isn't so much FOR her as it's ALL HER FAULT.

* * *

Dean refuses to take the blame for Sam’s broken arm.

Sure, probably Sam only tried out for the stupid football team because Dean kept telling him he was too much of a girly girl to make it in, and certainly he and Dean argued enough before the trials that maybe Sam’s concentration wasn’t 100 percent, but Dean did not trip him, so it isn’t his fault. The only reason that the jackass responsible for the broken humerus is still breathing is that Dean was too busy getting his brother to the nurse and then the hospital and then home with the big honking cast wrapped over his forearm to hunt his ass down.

Probably the guy is halfway out of the state by now. People in their current stupid hick high school might mock Sam Winchester, the gawky freshman, but no one messes with Dean.

Dean settles on the couch, where Sam is slouched with his cast settled against his chest in that really stupid looking sling. “So, where did the king keep his armies?” he asks, offering Sam a Sprite. Ever since he got over the immediate panic of seeing Sam hit the ground, hard, hearing the bone-snap he’s all too familiar with, he’s been having a field day with the arm-related puns.

Sam glares but takes the soda. “Just shut up, Dean.”

“Awww, Sammy, why so grim? I mean, you’re already plastered. It’s like you—“

“If you make another ‘humerus’ joke, so help me I’m going to break your jaw,” Sam says, in the exact same tone he’s been using all day. He downs the soda in one pull and then slams it on the side table. “You were right, okay, I shouldn’t have fucking gone out for the team, it was a stupid idea and now when Dad gets home—“

“Hey, hey, hey! Not what I was going to say.”

Sure, Dean’s been needling him since the hospital, but the point was to get Sam to stop feeling sorry and miserable for himself, not to, well, say, “I told you so.” Because, like many things Dean has said or done to Sam, they weren’t because he thinks he’s right or Sam’s wrong, but because sometimes he just has to prove that his little brother is there, not checked out, not drifting off somewhere like Dad does, or planning to leave, again. Dean can’t take it if Sam leaves again, he can’t, and the only way to prove that Sam is still with him is, sometimes, to make him yell.

He’d like to think that that’s the reason Dad pisses Sam off so badly too, but he doesn’t think that’s it. Dad’s not around enough either to really justify the reaction.

“Yeah, then what are you trying to say?” Sam puts his one free hand, the one not encased in plaster, over his eyes. “I should be used to it by now. Sam Winchester, brainy freak. Sam Winchester, world-class fuck-up.”

Dean pauses. And then, because there’s nothing he can say to that, nothing Sam will believe, he falls back on what he’s always done.

“Dude, don’t think too highly of yourself,” he says. “You’re a county-class fuck-up for sure, state-level maybe, but world? Nah.” He scoots closer on the couch and throws a long arm over Sam’s shoulders—carefully, mindful of the sling and the plaster and the arm, and the way Sam keeps his head turned away from him, like he doesn’t want Dean to see what’s really on his face because then it could possibly drive Dean away from him. “You’re my baby brother and the least fucked up of the Winchesters. You don’t get that prize. It’s a cold, sad truth, I know, but you’re just going to have to learn to live with it.”

Sam snorts, almost a laugh, but he faces Dean again, a smile in his eyes, lips quirked. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean leans in and kisses Sam on the corner of his mouth, right where it twists into something like a smile, but not quite. He tastes the salt and the heat and feels Sam’s mouth relax into his, closed but not twisted any more, neither brittle nor angry.

This is a new thing they have, and they’re going slow, each step moving toward something neither of them wants to think about. Each step because they need each other so much that they can’t, within reason, without heartbreak, pull away.

They just stop like that, Dean’s mouth on Sam’s, his arm over his shoulders, somehow Sam’s good hand up by his throat. It’s like long silences in the Impala when they have nothing to say but the not-saying of it speaks worlds. It’s like the smooth reaction they have when a ghost attacks or some idiot thinks that the new kids at the high school are fair game. It’s a unity and a connection that they’ve stopped fighting because it’s the only real thing, the only thing they can be sure of that’s theirs and they get to keep, that either of them has really had.

Dean breaks the moment first. He usually does, because these are dangerous things, no knowing where they will lead. “Can I sign your cast?”

Sam laughs, a real laugh this time. “Sure,” he says, taking a Sharpie out of his jean pocket. “Knock yourself out.”

Dean uncaps the pen and carefully—tongue sticking out of his mouth because it makes Sam roll his eyes and mutter under his breath—writes his name. He takes his time, marks out DEAN WINCHESTER in fat bubble letters that take up the entire side of the cast and wrap partway around.

“Leave some room for Santa, why don’t you?” Sam mutters, looking down at his mostly blacked-out cast, and then sighs. “I guess it’s not like I have any friends who are going to want to sign it.”

“You’ve got me,” Dean points out.

Sam could make a joke or roll his eyes, or otherwise fall back to the Winchester default, but he smiles again, simply and honestly—without any of the usual Winchester layers—so that Dean can’t make any mistake about what he sees.“Yeah, I’ve got you.”

This time, when Dean kisses him, Sam closes his eyes and opens his mouth and holds still, like he’s trying a new flavor and wants to fix it perfectly in his head. When they break apart to breathe, Dean has his hand on Sam’s neck and Sam’s eyes are still smiling. They still have that silence between them.

Dean kisses down Sam’s throat, pushing his shirt over his shoulders as he goes—still careful of that sling, gonna kill that fucker—and Sam shivers a little bit with every touch. When Dean brings the permanent marker around to Sam’s back, his brother huffs a little bit, mutters, “Jerk” under his breath, but leans into Dean’s shoulder, into his hands.

Dean writes DEAN WINCHESTER, in blocky, wiggly letters—he loves to feel Sam breathe, but it’s hard to keep the pen steady down his back—and then adds, “ ‘s little brother” crawling down his spine.

He’s just started “Best Winchester in the world” across Sam’s ribs when his brother curves his head around and bites at his neck.

“Writing a sonnet?” he asks.

“Limerick.”

“It’s probably dirty.”

“Is there any other kind?”

And here they are, in a new kind of silence. A good one.

Date: 2011-04-02 10:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] si-star-x.livejournal.com
This was quite possibly the most adorable thing I've ever read. Aww, Sammy. It was so good! So good. Well done, a great fic -- super cute and totally in character. Well. Y'know. You had them down.

Date: 2011-04-02 10:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Awww, thank you!

Date: 2011-04-02 10:53 pm (UTC)
ext_14783: girl underwater (SPN - Wincest animated kiss)
From: [identity profile] lavinialavender.livejournal.com
alkdsjf;lakdsjfd;laskjf I am ridiculously proud I got you to write Wincest.

And this is a beautiful, sweet, IC fic. With the boys writing on each other!! I hadn't mentioned yet how that was possibly my favorite part, but I guess you already knew. :D And I love how you describe the simplicity and undeniable magnetism of their relationship (which, indeed, I partly wrote, hem). And oh gosh, so strange to deal with the canon boys again, Sam's angst is so entirely different.

Date: 2011-04-02 10:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Yup, yup. It's...nice to write a Sam that can banter. You know, and not make HORRIFIC JOKES ABOUT HIS HORRIFIC CHILDHOOD.

Hmmm, though in a way they are IN the horrific childhood. Alas.

Date: 2011-04-02 10:55 pm (UTC)
ext_14783: girl underwater (SPN - wee!Sam wibble)
From: [identity profile] lavinialavender.livejournal.com
Not as horrific as the one we gave Sam...

Date: 2011-04-02 10:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] whereupon.livejournal.com
Dean can’t take it if Sam leaves again, he can’t, and the only way to prove that Sam is still with him is, sometimes, to make him yell.

and

They just stop like that, Dean’s mouth on Sam’s, his arm over his shoulders, somehow Sam’s good hand up by his throat. It’s like long silences in the Impala when they have nothing to say but the not-saying of it speaks worlds. It’s like the smooth reaction they have when a ghost attacks or some idiot thinks that the new kids at the high school are fair game. It’s a unity and a connection that they’ve stopped fighting because it’s the only real thing, the only thing they can be sure of that’s theirs and they get to keep, that either of them has really had.

and their dialogue, everything they say and don't say and express-by-leaving-unsaid -- this is fantastic. I am so happy that you wrote it, and that you shared it!

Date: 2011-04-02 10:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Eee, thank you! *hugs* How can I NOT share when wonderful folk comment on it?

Date: 2011-04-02 11:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mimblexwimble.livejournal.com
Dean writes DEAN WINCHESTER, in blocky, wiggly letters—he loves to feel Sam breathe, but it’s hard to keep the pen steady down his back—and then adds, “ ‘s little brother” crawling down his spine.

He’s just started “Best Winchester in the world” across Sam’s ribs when his brother curves his head around and bites at his neck.


WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS MY LOVE FOR THIS. It's such a beautiful piece.

Date: 2011-04-02 11:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
eeee! Thank you!

Date: 2011-04-02 11:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alice-alaizabel.livejournal.com
Oh! So you can do happiness. To be honest, I didn't realise it was you until I saw your replies to the comments. YOU TRIED TO FOOL ME, OH CRUEL FIC DEITY, BUT YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE DOUBTED A TRUE BELIEVER, FOR I AM TOO WISE TO FALL FOR IT!!

You...you've done something strange to me, and I'm not sure I like it.

But on the plus, less crazy side, I enjoyed the arm-related humour. I don't know why Sam got so upset. There's no 'arm in it.

*feels shame*

Date: 2011-04-03 12:10 am (UTC)
ext_14783: girl underwater (SPN - Sammy smile!)
From: [identity profile] lavinialavender.livejournal.com
(Of course I constantly lurk on [livejournal.com profile] brosedshield's journal, did you expect any different?)

Oh, you. I like you. You make me laugh. I do believe I shall FRIEND you.

Date: 2011-04-03 12:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
*cackles in delight* Puns! *hug* I love them so much! Feel no shame! I shall SHOULDER the blame. (sure, it's moving up a little bit, but still in the general area, right?)

Yeah, I do write happy. Though usually it involves crack and disturbingly cheery puns. I write a good deal of melancholy-but-hopeful too. Which can also involve crack and cheery puns. :-) FC is really the only place where the puns, if they exist, are hidden deep in my subconscious.

Yay, so happy to see your comment here too!

Date: 2011-04-03 12:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alice-alaizabel.livejournal.com
Oh dear. You realise you've given me free reign for arm puns now? I've got a lot of them. I'm armed to the teeth.

*giggle-snort*

I am glad you have both friended me! I shall friend you back.

Date: 2011-04-03 12:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Yay! *nods wisely* Feel free to elbow me out of the way, palm things off, or otherwise have fun in this joint *winces at awkwardness but keep going* I swear I'm not glad-handing when I love puns!

*stares* Was that too much? It feels like it was too much...or possibly too extraneous. Maybe I should LIMBer up first...

*bounces* Happiness! (yeah, this is a side of me that FC doesn't often see, especially as something I feel like the anti-social author. It's not that I don't like people, it's just that Lavinia is MUCH more internet ambitious...

Date: 2011-04-03 01:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alice-alaizabel.livejournal.com
I like your puns! I shall lend you a hand with them. I'll be your handy-man. Although, we must be careful not to repeat ourselves - we don't want to use second-hand puns!

I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel here. Because they're essentially 'armless, puns are really handy weapons in the war against sadness, but the armoury is running short. They cost an arm and a leg, you see, and people keep handing them out for free. We might lose the war against sadness! Perhaps we should call for an armistice.

Oh dear. It's two in the morning where I am, and with all these puns, you won't let me go to sleep! I demand you unhand me at once.

Jeeks, these are getting pretty desperate now. Stop with the arm puns, stop with the arm puns. No more arm puns. Go to bed and stop with the arm puns.

Though this armchair is quite comfy. I might need a hand up.

ARGH!!

Date: 2011-04-03 01:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
*giggle* Well, as you seem to be clinging to awareness by your fingernails, I won't try and keep you awake. Though, it's about three a.m. where I am, so being also fairly tired might have something to do with it...

ooo, last one! This has been a no-hold's barred punfest! (though the longer we go about these, the more it seems to be stretching the concept) *grin*

Date: 2011-04-03 02:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] de-nugis.livejournal.com
There's the AW factor here but there's also so much complexity, and it's such a delicate balance, you can already see the two people who keep loving each other and hurting each other, but also the two people who can eventually emerge on the other side of that and understand each other.

And Dean making horrible arm jokes is perfect.

Date: 2011-04-03 10:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
*grin* Thank you! I'm going to blame my subconscious for anything cute or complex. I woke up and it was saying "Wouldn't it be sweet if Sam had a broken arm and Dean wrote on it, and his back, after kissing of course?" and I was like, "Okay! Okay! I'll write it for Lavinia."

And arm jokes just kind of snuck in when I wasn't looking. They do that. It's USUALLY enjoyable.

Date: 2011-04-03 10:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] zara-zee.livejournal.com
This was really sweet...and also so very true to character. And...not only did reading the fic entertain me, so did reading all the punny comments!!! Had me cackling with delight too! :)

Date: 2011-04-03 10:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Hehe, yay! I'm glad that the puns AND the story could entertain. Thank you!

Date: 2011-04-04 04:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tornknees.livejournal.com
Aaaaw! This is adorable! :) I love the idea of Dean actually signing Sam and claiming him

Date: 2011-04-04 04:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
I think it's pretty sweet and powerful myself. Thank you!

Date: 2011-04-04 10:00 pm (UTC)
ext_8730: (Default)
From: [identity profile] maerhys.livejournal.com
I adore the banter! And that opening line pulled me right in. Really fun, fabulously constructed slice of life fic. Well done!

Date: 2011-04-04 10:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Thank you so much! The banter was really fun to write too!

Date: 2011-04-13 11:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] casdean.livejournal.com
What a sweet diversion from the freak-camp hellatus. Thank you, reading that was a pleasure.

Date: 2011-04-14 04:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Thank you! Yeah, it's always nice to have a little...fluffy, sweet, non-FC stuff in my life. Not MUCH mind you *grin* but a bit.

Date: 2011-04-14 05:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] equally-dour.livejournal.com
That was lovely.

Date: 2011-04-14 05:32 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-04-20 08:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] girlguidejones.livejournal.com
I enjoyed this! Especially the end, where the sensuality of the marker on Sam's skin morphed into the calm happiness of the limerick quips. It sounded very Sam-ish and very Dean-ish.

Well done! :)

Date: 2011-04-20 09:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Thank you! I love making them sound themselves.

Date: 2011-04-21 01:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] counteragent.livejournal.com
This is believeable and heartfelt.

Date: 2011-04-21 07:03 am (UTC)

Date: 2011-04-27 06:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] locknkey.livejournal.com
Congrats! Your fic is recced by our team here (http://crack-impala.livejournal.com/344282.html) at [livejournal.com profile] crack_impala

Date: 2011-04-27 06:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brosedshield.livejournal.com
Awesome! Thank you!

Date: 2011-04-29 02:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] king-ink.livejournal.com
Holy shit. I'm just listening to that song from Suede about fraternal incest and writing a line down someone's spine, smoking, and then this.

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