Title: Sometimes
Author: Indigo Night
Feedback: Yes please
Summary: Sometimes, Dean lays awake at night.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters
Spoilers: Not really.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Could be read as very mild one-sided Wincest.
Author's Note: So, I have no idea where this came from, just couldn't sleep one night and got to thinking. Yeah, its random, and a little weird, the writing style is kinda particular. But, I dunno, tell me what'cha think. Read, Review, Enjoy!
As a general rule, Dean liked to sleep, a lot. And given his job's unpredictable hours he was good at getting it whenever and wherever he could.
But sometimes, sleep would elude him and he would lay awake at night.
Sometimes, the motel would be crowded, and the only room available was one with a single king, instead of two queens.
Those nights were usually quieter than others. They would make a point to grumble and groan a little, but for the most part tended to tip-toe around each other as though to make up for the even greater lack of personal space than usual.
When they got into bed Sam would drop off almost immediately. Oddly enough, he seemed to sleep better when they were sharing the bed. Dean didn't sleep.
They would start off at opposite edges of the bed, but as Dean lay awake he waited, waited for the inevitable. And sure enough, just like clockwork, Sam shifted in his sleep, rolling to his side as his hand flopped lazily around Dean's waist, his head burrowed comfortably into his older brother's shoulder.
At first Dean would stiffen automatically, then he would relax. For those times, nothing else seemed to exist. Dean stopped thinking; he stopped worrying, stopped being hurt or angry or whatever else. They were quiet moments, peaceful, perfect.
And though he'd never, ever admit it, he relished those moments. The times when there was absolutely nothing but the warmth of Sam against his back, the brush of their thighs pressed lightly together, the tingle of flesh against flesh where Dean's t-shirt had ridden up slightly, the gentle tickle of Sam's breath on the back of his neck. When he had the soothing knowledge of Sam's strong, beating heart next to him, and the rustle of their chests rising and falling perfectly in time. It was a level of physical intimacy that neither of them would ever approach consciously.
He clung to those moments, each and every one, imprinting them in his mind. Because he knew they didn't last. Because time passed and the sun rose, and Sam would wake up.
Sam would jump away as though burned. Dean would tease him, call him a girl, and inform him, "Yes, I know I'm irresistible, but really Sammy, I just don't swing that way." Sam would blush, they would laugh, and then they would move on. And soon the incident would be all but forgotten.
But Dean still held onto them. Because sometimes in the midst of his crazy, chaotic world, he needed those moments of peace when all was quiet and right with the world.
