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SPN FIC: Addition (PG)
Title: Addition
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Dean subtext
Wordcount: 377 words
Notes: For Kim, because - actually, there's no real reason. <3
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Dean subtext
Wordcount: 377 words
Notes: For Kim, because - actually, there's no real reason. <3
They spent a month camping by the lake when Sam was fifteen.
He woke up every morning to the sound of twigs snapping under Dean’s clumsy caffeine-deprived feet, the smell of pine in his nose, his shirt stuck to his body with the damp air that rolled in off the lake at night; he woke up every morning with the closest thing he’d ever felt to unabashed contentment curling in his chest.
The heavily treated canvas began to feel like home under Sam’s fingers: rough and a little weather-worn, but as familiar as a beloved t-shirt.
He told Dean this once in a fit of teenage idealism, “I wish we could stay here forever, you and me,” and suffered through the obligatory pillow-whacking. Exhausted from laughter, he’d almost been asleep when Dean whispered, “Me too, Sammy,” and pushed their sleeping bags closer together.
Dirty clothing piled up in the corners of the tent even though it stunk to high heaven; when Dean spilled some of the instant coffee on his sleeping bag liner, he didn’t bother to wash it, just slipped into Sam’s the next night, curling up around Sam – protective even in sleep; they sometimes stayed awake until sunrise whispering secrets, only settling in to sleep when the birds started singing, facing each other with their heads on the same pillow. It was perfect, a haven Sam had never expected to love quite so much when Dean had pitched the idea in June.
When they disassembled the tent and rolled up their laundry into manageable balls at the end, and all of their belongings were in the back of the borrowed car, Dean caught Sam by the arm.
“We can come back next year,” he said softly, a peace offering.
Sam looked down and saw that Dean’s hand had slipped, brown, square fingers holding on to him just above the wrist – a month of shared confidences and constant company distilled down to a single touch. He shivered helplessly.
“Maybe,” he answered after a pause.
Their thumbs brushed when Dean pulled away, awkward, too perfect to be a coincidence. Sam noticed the callus on the inside of Dean’s middle finger: rough and a little weather-worn, but as familiar as a beloved t-shirt.
“Maybe,” he said again, smiling now.
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*MAKES INCOHERENT NOISES AND THEN DIES* English homework? WHUT ENGLISH HOMEWORK!!?
Oh, that was absolutely adorable and gorgeous and just down-right cute. ♥ ♥ ♥ THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. *haz ur babies*
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*loffs messily all over*
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*loffs back*
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I love how home can be wherever they settle with each other, even a tent by the lake.
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It was... One word: BREATH TAKING. Okay, two words then. *blushes*
Great fic!
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