Title: Hard To Say I'm Sorry
Author: Keith
Fandom: Supernatural
Setting: The Impala, Some Freeway
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 2040
Type Of Work: One-Shot, Started as a Ficwip Drabble Challenge
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Sibling Incest, Brother/Brother Incest, Brocon, Homophobia Mention, Hate Crim Mention, Dental Trauma Mention, Dating But Fighting, ficwip drabble challenge
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
Summary: Sam was being a baby about something, but Dean didn't quite know what.
AN: Hey guys, it's me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a writing Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Twitter!
Welp here's to another Supernatural fic from me, but not the right one. xD I was doing a drabble challenge on the Ficwip Discord, and this one really stuck out to me, and so I wanted to add to it. The original drabble was paragraphs two to seven and the italicized Dean if you were wondering!
I hope you guys enjoy it! I am having a lot of fun with these boys right now.
Hard To Say I'm Sorry
The silence was unbearable. Knowing that Sam was so upset with him was unacceptable. Of course, Dean handled these insufferable emotions in the only way he knew how.
"You don't have to be such a baby about this, you know." Dean huffed, glancing to his left out the window. Yep, more corn. It was almost as if this state was ninety percent corn, and one percent the single gas station they'd passed fifty miles back. Sam's silence, his furrowed brows, and firmly frowning lips told Dean he was still definitely in trouble, "Sam-"
"Dean, just shut up for a minute." Sam snapped, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel a migraine coming on.
"Ohhh, sure, Sam, like I haven't been shut up for the last ten miles!" Dean snorted, fidgeting with the radio.
"Why don't you shut up for the next ten, too?" Crossing his arms as he adjusted his legs, careful not to kick Baby, Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, who's being the baby about this?" Sam asked, incredulous and clearly irritated, not bothering to turn away from the window.
"Uh, you? You're still pouting-" Dean was pretty sure that whatever his offense was, it wasn't even that important.
"I'm not pouting!" Sam snapped, the car falling silent save for Baby's purring. A solid ten minutes passed before Dean reached over, patting his brother's thigh, a silent concession of guilt. Sam turned to look at him, his eyes softening before Dean gave him an insufferable grin. Smartass.
"You're real cute when you pout, you know." Batting his eyelashes, an exaggerated pout worked onto Dean's face, and he only laughed when Sam smacked him in the chest.
"Dean!" If this was his way of apologizing, Sam was half tempted to just get out and walk again. So much of the time, he didn't want to just walk out as he had so early on in their journey together. Then, there were times like this, when Dean was absolutely intolerable. "Can you just leave me alone?!"
"Oh, come on, Sammy!" Exasperated, Dean flopped back against his seat and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Baby didn't mind, but somewhere deep down he felt bad. Maybe later he'd get her a treat, wipe down the interior or something. "It's not like it was a big de-"
"Do not." Unlike Dean's playful glibness, Sam's voice was hard, cold, even, and Dean found himself sighing. Emotions, his or otherwise, were not his strong suit. Dean was the action, the one who did something about how he was feeling. Talking about these things always made him uncomfortable at best, and pissed off at worst.
"What? Sam, talk to me." As much as he didn't want to, as much as he'd rather let Sam get drunk and hand him a pair of pliers for some impromptu dentistry instead, Dean knew better. Sam wouldn't even hit him to get his emotions in check, much less something more violent. While Dean handled things by not handling them, Sam wanted a solution. Usually an emotionally charged solution, much to Dean's chagrin.
Or, at the very least, to get his chest clear so his head could take back over. To be fair, Sam suspected that Dean didn't think with his brain, either. At some point, part of it had disengaged and went for a joyride to his fists. It was the only logical explanation to Dean's 'punch first, ask questions later, maybe' policy.
"There's nothing to talk about," Sam murmured, voice quiet and distant, "I just wish you'd think before you spoke."
Oh.
Oh.
That explained a lot if he were honest. But it also didn't explain a single damn thing. What had he said this time to piss Sam off so much? It was almost like he'd dropped the last straw; Like he was finally going to lose him, had finally pushed him away for good. The sheer amount of unease kicking up the bile in his stomach was leaving him feeling antsy, flighty, and nervous.
In another ten seconds, if he didn't say something, or if Sam didn't, he'd probably crank some Metallica just to calm his nerves. Instead, however, Sam reached over and pushed the radio button to turn it off, shaking his head. Apparently, that look had entered Dean's eyes, distant and far away, and Sam knew what that meant. This time, it was his hand to land on Dean's knee, and he rubbed it gently.
"You're so stupid sometimes." Sam smiled slightly, sadly, and sighed through his nose. "I really can't believe you sometimes."
While Dean's first instinct was to say something snarky, to take offense, his glance over to see Sam's soft expression made his heart skip a beat. All he managed was a thin line with his lips, and Sam nodded a little, holding up his free hand.
"I promise I mean that in the best way possible. But, uh… It's just…" Glancing back out the window, Sam slumped down in his seat, even more, nearly choking himself on the seatbelt, "I know how you are, Dean, but it still hurts when you…" No, the way he was going, Dean would just get offended, "When we have to get two beds, or you tell people we aren't…"
"Together." Dean finished when Sam trailed off, and he bit his lip, eyes back on the road. That made sense, he'd been very adamant about flirting with the motel owner's daughter that morning after the owner had said something about him and Sam. When assholes made comments, Dean went on the defensive. Maybe it was his way of coping, Sam figured.
Truthfully, Dean wanted to protect his little brother. If people knew that they were together, two men, that was bad enough, but knowing they were also brothers? That would get messy fast.
Dean knew there were monsters in the world, things that went bump in the night, but nothing scared him more than the cruelty of regular people. Sam had been abducted once, had been taken to become part of an awful "game", and Dean still hadn't forgiven himself. He wasn't about to let anything like that happen to Sam ever again.
"Dean?"
"Huh?" It suddenly dawned on him that Sam had been talking. The look on his face, when Dean took a sidelong glance at him, told him he'd asked a question. "Sorry, Sammy, lost me for a second. What?"
"I, uh, was asking if we could just do one bed next time." Sam's hand withdrew from the other's thigh and he set his jaw for a second, "Forget it, though, it's fi-"
"No, Sammy, we'll do it tonight. Just… Promise me you'll stay in the car while I get the room?" Dean's voice wavered a little and he cleared his throat, absently reaching for the radio. His hand fluttered for a moment, hovering over Sam's thigh again for a moment before falling back to his own lap. For another five minutes, Metallica soothed his frazzled nerves, before Sam turned it off again.
"Are you ashamed of me?" He asked, voice barely loud enough to be heard over Baby's engine. Dean slammed the brakes on, squealing and swerving to pull off the highway to come to rest on the shoulder. Turning in his seat, he gave Sam the most confused, insulted look he had in his entire arsenal.
"What the hell, Sam? Of course not!" The yelling made Sam flinch, and he turned away, leaning into the door.
"You're always so… I don't know. Like this when people bring it up when people ask about it, or look at us together..." Gesturing vaguely at his brother, Sam couldn't find it in himself to look at him, but Dean reached over anyway. Startling Sam with how quickly he'd shed his seatbelt, Sam looked over as his chin was taken between the elder's thumb and forefinger. His lips parted in a question that didn't get a chance to leave them before Dean was leaning in, kissing his lower lip.
After a moment, the kiss moved up to properly claim them both, and Dean worked his mouth against Sam's in slow, careful open-mouthed motions. His hand moved up to cup Sam's cheek, and the hopeless romantic in Sam leaned into it, pushing up into his brother's touch, melting into him. The center console between them made it a little difficult, sure, but he was managing it well enough. At the very least, Dean didn't seem to care about it right now, and that spoke volumes for his feelings for his brother.
By the time Dean had nearly crawled over it to land in his brother's lap, he began to pull back, breathing picked up and eyes half-lidded. Sam sat in awe of the beauty and power of the man in his lap, pinning him to the leather seat beneath him. At least he'd sat up from his earlier sagging.
"I love you, Sammy, you know that, right?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded a little dumbly, "I worry about you… About someone wanting to hurt you over this. Over… Us." Voice quiet, their lips still close enough to brush against each other, Dean leaned in to lick at his lip again. "I don't want you to end up dead because of me."
"I won't," Sam replied sternly, whispering as his breath fanned out over the other's mouth. Moving his lips to Dean's jaw, and then his neck, he craned against his seatbelt before simply unbuckling it. "I can handle myself, Dean."
"But what if you can't?" There was always that chance, and he sucked in a deep breath, holding it. Sam had been making him focus, do these stupid breathing exercises in order to remain calm. They helped, but his pride would never let him admit to it.
"You're going to help, you always find me. You'll do whatever you can to help me, and we both know it." Sam murmured, and the bold confidence that Sam had in him had Dean's heart swelling. Tugging Sam back in for a kiss, he nodded.
"You're right, Sammy. You're never going to shake me, that's a promise." Chuckling lightly, he slowly started to slink back to his seat, offering his hand when he was settled and buckled back in. Sam followed suit, holding Dean's hand and rubbing his thumb over his brother's knuckles. Dean glanced behind him, pulling back onto the empty freeway with a smile on his lips.
Right now, he could have taken on the world if he had to, his heart soaring with the closeness they had shared.
"Love you, too, Dean." Sam offered absently, licking his lips before sighing softly, content, "When we get to the next motel, I think we should spend some time together before we do things."
"We got work to do, Sa-"
"Please?" That little lilt to his voice had Dean giving in almost immediately. He didn't even have to look at Sam to know that he had those puppy dog eyes on, a pout to his lips. Maybe he hadn't been pouting earlier, but he certainly was now.
"Yeah, Sammy, we'll do whatever you want." Sometimes, Sam could be so manipulative, but Dean always gave in; It kept it going, perpetuating the fact that it did, indeed, work. It never worked on their dad, but Dean would drop everything to do whatever Sam needed from him, as much as it sometimes bothered him.
"Sounds good to me, Dean. You ready?" Reaching over, he hit the radio again, letting Dean sing his heart out as they sped towards their next destination. Baby's rumbling crescendoed with the music as Dean punched it, sending them flying down the road. This was his own manipulation, as he managed to get Sam clutching his wrist, leaning his head against his arm to avoid looking at the blurry landscape around them. A little closeness on his own terms was never a bad thing.
The speed limit began to slip down, down, down as they found another little rat spit town, and Sam, mindful of Dean's worries, sat up straight and let go of his hand. Leaning his arm out the window, bent at the elbow, he bobbed his head to the music, missing Dean's thankful smile.
AN: Alright, there we have it! I hope you guys enjoyed this, I know I did. It was a lot of fun to play with! Here's to more Supernatural fics coming from me!
Prompt: Tongue In Cheek