comment fic from bekkis' cuddle fic meme
Oct. 19th, 2009 11:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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annella.
"it's weird, right? i mean i'm not the only one who thinks so," sam asks after the waitress tops up their cups and their plates have been mostly cleared away.
dean nods. "i don't know what new age stuff he's been looking at, but it's freaking me out a little."
"we can't stop him though, can we? i mean, he's like a puppy..." sam shakes his head. "i thought you were teaching him about personal space." his voice lilts a little at the end, both question and accusation.
dean throws up his hands defensively. "hey, i tried. this isn't my fault." he looks off to the side, his discomfort obvious in his body language as he hunches over and clings to the cup of coffee in front of him.
they end up stopping by some ridge a few hours later, the agreed-upon lookout the first update stop for the three of them on their quest to kill lucifer. castiel appears only a few minutes after they've gotten comfortable on the lone picnic table around. dean finds himself enfolded in castiel's arms first, the hug lasting long past propriety. dean tries patting his back gently, and then a little rougher, in an effort to speed the hug along. nothing deters the angel until he decides to let go.
sam snickers softly at the blush high in dean's cheeks, but is cut short as castiel embraces him also. castiel barely comes up to chin height on sam, and the mirth in dean's eyes at seeing sam's bewildered look over the top of the angel's head is hard to contain.
an interminable amount of time later, where the party has passed from fairly comfortable and amusing back into awkward, castiel steps back. "I've found God."
forchash.
they've almost gotten too old for this, with limbs uncomfortably pushing in where they don't need to be. it's a twin bed, after all, and dean's got just enough height on him to knee sam in the stomach without meaning too when he's pretty much sleeping like the dead. no one really complains, not too loudly anyway, cause they always feel lucky to even have a mattress this time around, let alone a bed that they can share somewhat easily.
it's just that it's too fucking cold for words in the cabin this time around, barely insulated against the blizzard outside. and if they actually stood around to check it (which they didn't, you know, because it was so fucking cold), they definitely would've been able to see their breath inside the house. they do know that closing the door gives them a 50/50 chance-- 50% chance they'll be colder than ever before come morning because they'd shut out whatever space heater dad had going in the living room, or 50% that they'll seal in what little heat they have and be warmer than without. but dean figures that they'll sleep better with the door closed and salt lines freezing to the sills and jambs.
sam's already layered up as much as he can be, leftover socks scavenged from the laundromat giving his kid feet lumps of tube sock and inexplicable purple floral patterns. it's not like dean's much better off, wearing what maybe was argyle on one foot, and some gym sock that had seen better days on the other. but hey, whatever gets you through. they pile into the bed as quickly as they can once dean's turned out the light, knees knocking and facing each other on the pillow.
there's only the one blanket between them, some discount throw with a lion motif that they know has followed them around to more motels and houses than anyone cares to admit. it's a little piece of home, they guess, worn in with hand-me-down type use. it's still a struggle for them, too cold to really be comfortable. it's petty, but they start yanking more cover to their own side, leaving some vital part of their brother left in the cold. sam knows dean's barely old enough to cuss appropriately, despite being 13 and claiming worldly wisdom. but sam can't deal with another night of listening to dean whine about his 'ass freezing off'.
sam doesn't give up, per se, so much as turn over and spoon himself into the curve of dean's body. sam's a litle generator anyway, radiating heat off immediately. dean splutters and finally grins, tucking them in with as much of the cold sealed out as he possibly can. the blanket's still long enough to go over most of their heads, so only a tuft of dean's hair is left out to fend for itself in the wintry air in the room. but in their little cocoon, arms wrapped tight in one another, they figure they may be able to ride out the blizzard. and maybe be okay for a snowball fight in the morning instead of sparring.
forwanttobeatree.
they have no idea how redcaps got into america, let alone on the texas/mexico border. but they're lucky to have gotten away from those fairies with their lives, bobby says, as they talk to him on the drive out of the town. sam's bruised to hell with little bootprints marching up and down his left side from their iron boots, and dean's got more than a few cuts that maybe need stitches as soon as they find somewhere safe to rest up.
they end up somewhere on the outskirts of san antonio when they finally decide to stop, leaning just a little too close to each other as they pile their stuff on the floor of the last motel room available. they go through their routine slowly, knocking into the other brother's space and staying just a bit too long to call it an accident. sam keeps watching dean with wary eyes as he stitches closed the worst of the cuts and bandages the rest. he wants to just pull dean close and kiss everything better, but he's sure dean will have none of it.
dean looks at the lone king bed in the middle of the room, wondering if he'll be able to suppress the need to pull sammy close during the night like they used to do when they were younger. he's still scared stiff at the thought that the redcaps were about to bludgeon his brother to death, and how they almost didn't make it out in time. it'd be awkward as hell to try to spoon sam and then get an elbow to the gut for his trouble.
it's too quiet when they finally climb into the bed, staying as far away as the blanket and sam's ridiculously long limbs will allow them. it's uncomfortable, and more than once in the following half an hour, they're nearly falling off the edge in an attempt to get comfortable.
"fuck it," dean says, just as sam says "this is ridiculous." they shift to the middle of the bed, careful of sam's left side and dean cuddles in behind sam. they sigh, almost simultaneously, and their muscles unclench. sam feels dean's heart beating against his back, the warmth spreading through gauze and tape all the way through his body.
"you tell anyone about this, and you'll relive the Nair experience," dean grumbles quietly, sam's hair tickling his nose all the while.
sam chuckles softly and sighs again, closing his eyes to go to sleep.
foraudaciously.
intellectually, sheldon knows it's sort of like hugging, like the hug he gave penny for christmas that year she brought him an autographed napkin and DNA from leonard nimoy. it's some part of human interaction that he isn't particularly familiar with, since it has absolutely nothing to do with his work.
but penny swears that it's the next best thing to the "soft kitty, warm kitty" song that she's been singing to him when he's sick. and while he doesn't see the benefit to it, his curious brain does want to test out her unsupported, 'common sense' statement.
penny sits him down in his seat on the couch, giving him a little bit of a comforting surrounding before sitting too close. sheldon starts just a little and turns to her.
"penny, are you sure this is necessary and not some backwoods country ideology like being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen or creationism?"
penny rolls her eyes. "trust me, sheldon. it's part of the human condition. now open your arms like you're going to hug me." she rests her head on his chest after putting her feet up on the other side of the couch and folds his arms down around her in an approximation of a cuddle. sheldon's still stiff and she can hear his heart rabbiting in his chest.
slowly, sheldon relaxes down until his cheek is resting atop penny's head and, while still awkward, he starts petting her arm gently. "see, this is nice, right?" she asks, snuggling just a little closer.
sheldon gives a non-committal noise and keeps on. he wonders briefly if he could train her to do this instead of interrupting their anime time with her sex and the city. it's a shame he doesn't have any chocolates around...
1552 wrds
forbekkis' cuddle fic meme
annella. "it's weird, right? i mean i'm not the only one who thinks so," sam asks after the waitress tops up their cups and their plates have been mostly cleared away.
dean nods. "i don't know what new age stuff he's been looking at, but it's freaking me out a little."
"we can't stop him though, can we? i mean, he's like a puppy..." sam shakes his head. "i thought you were teaching him about personal space." his voice lilts a little at the end, both question and accusation.
dean throws up his hands defensively. "hey, i tried. this isn't my fault." he looks off to the side, his discomfort obvious in his body language as he hunches over and clings to the cup of coffee in front of him.
they end up stopping by some ridge a few hours later, the agreed-upon lookout the first update stop for the three of them on their quest to kill lucifer. castiel appears only a few minutes after they've gotten comfortable on the lone picnic table around. dean finds himself enfolded in castiel's arms first, the hug lasting long past propriety. dean tries patting his back gently, and then a little rougher, in an effort to speed the hug along. nothing deters the angel until he decides to let go.
sam snickers softly at the blush high in dean's cheeks, but is cut short as castiel embraces him also. castiel barely comes up to chin height on sam, and the mirth in dean's eyes at seeing sam's bewildered look over the top of the angel's head is hard to contain.
an interminable amount of time later, where the party has passed from fairly comfortable and amusing back into awkward, castiel steps back. "I've found God."
for
chash. they've almost gotten too old for this, with limbs uncomfortably pushing in where they don't need to be. it's a twin bed, after all, and dean's got just enough height on him to knee sam in the stomach without meaning too when he's pretty much sleeping like the dead. no one really complains, not too loudly anyway, cause they always feel lucky to even have a mattress this time around, let alone a bed that they can share somewhat easily.
it's just that it's too fucking cold for words in the cabin this time around, barely insulated against the blizzard outside. and if they actually stood around to check it (which they didn't, you know, because it was so fucking cold), they definitely would've been able to see their breath inside the house. they do know that closing the door gives them a 50/50 chance-- 50% chance they'll be colder than ever before come morning because they'd shut out whatever space heater dad had going in the living room, or 50% that they'll seal in what little heat they have and be warmer than without. but dean figures that they'll sleep better with the door closed and salt lines freezing to the sills and jambs.
sam's already layered up as much as he can be, leftover socks scavenged from the laundromat giving his kid feet lumps of tube sock and inexplicable purple floral patterns. it's not like dean's much better off, wearing what maybe was argyle on one foot, and some gym sock that had seen better days on the other. but hey, whatever gets you through. they pile into the bed as quickly as they can once dean's turned out the light, knees knocking and facing each other on the pillow.
there's only the one blanket between them, some discount throw with a lion motif that they know has followed them around to more motels and houses than anyone cares to admit. it's a little piece of home, they guess, worn in with hand-me-down type use. it's still a struggle for them, too cold to really be comfortable. it's petty, but they start yanking more cover to their own side, leaving some vital part of their brother left in the cold. sam knows dean's barely old enough to cuss appropriately, despite being 13 and claiming worldly wisdom. but sam can't deal with another night of listening to dean whine about his 'ass freezing off'.
sam doesn't give up, per se, so much as turn over and spoon himself into the curve of dean's body. sam's a litle generator anyway, radiating heat off immediately. dean splutters and finally grins, tucking them in with as much of the cold sealed out as he possibly can. the blanket's still long enough to go over most of their heads, so only a tuft of dean's hair is left out to fend for itself in the wintry air in the room. but in their little cocoon, arms wrapped tight in one another, they figure they may be able to ride out the blizzard. and maybe be okay for a snowball fight in the morning instead of sparring.
for
wanttobeatree. they have no idea how redcaps got into america, let alone on the texas/mexico border. but they're lucky to have gotten away from those fairies with their lives, bobby says, as they talk to him on the drive out of the town. sam's bruised to hell with little bootprints marching up and down his left side from their iron boots, and dean's got more than a few cuts that maybe need stitches as soon as they find somewhere safe to rest up.
they end up somewhere on the outskirts of san antonio when they finally decide to stop, leaning just a little too close to each other as they pile their stuff on the floor of the last motel room available. they go through their routine slowly, knocking into the other brother's space and staying just a bit too long to call it an accident. sam keeps watching dean with wary eyes as he stitches closed the worst of the cuts and bandages the rest. he wants to just pull dean close and kiss everything better, but he's sure dean will have none of it.
dean looks at the lone king bed in the middle of the room, wondering if he'll be able to suppress the need to pull sammy close during the night like they used to do when they were younger. he's still scared stiff at the thought that the redcaps were about to bludgeon his brother to death, and how they almost didn't make it out in time. it'd be awkward as hell to try to spoon sam and then get an elbow to the gut for his trouble.
it's too quiet when they finally climb into the bed, staying as far away as the blanket and sam's ridiculously long limbs will allow them. it's uncomfortable, and more than once in the following half an hour, they're nearly falling off the edge in an attempt to get comfortable.
"fuck it," dean says, just as sam says "this is ridiculous." they shift to the middle of the bed, careful of sam's left side and dean cuddles in behind sam. they sigh, almost simultaneously, and their muscles unclench. sam feels dean's heart beating against his back, the warmth spreading through gauze and tape all the way through his body.
"you tell anyone about this, and you'll relive the Nair experience," dean grumbles quietly, sam's hair tickling his nose all the while.
sam chuckles softly and sighs again, closing his eyes to go to sleep.
for
audaciously. intellectually, sheldon knows it's sort of like hugging, like the hug he gave penny for christmas that year she brought him an autographed napkin and DNA from leonard nimoy. it's some part of human interaction that he isn't particularly familiar with, since it has absolutely nothing to do with his work.
but penny swears that it's the next best thing to the "soft kitty, warm kitty" song that she's been singing to him when he's sick. and while he doesn't see the benefit to it, his curious brain does want to test out her unsupported, 'common sense' statement.
penny sits him down in his seat on the couch, giving him a little bit of a comforting surrounding before sitting too close. sheldon starts just a little and turns to her.
"penny, are you sure this is necessary and not some backwoods country ideology like being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen or creationism?"
penny rolls her eyes. "trust me, sheldon. it's part of the human condition. now open your arms like you're going to hug me." she rests her head on his chest after putting her feet up on the other side of the couch and folds his arms down around her in an approximation of a cuddle. sheldon's still stiff and she can hear his heart rabbiting in his chest.
slowly, sheldon relaxes down until his cheek is resting atop penny's head and, while still awkward, he starts petting her arm gently. "see, this is nice, right?" she asks, snuggling just a little closer.
sheldon gives a non-committal noise and keeps on. he wonders briefly if he could train her to do this instead of interrupting their anime time with her sex and the city. it's a shame he doesn't have any chocolates around...
1552 wrds
for
bekkis' cuddle fic meme
