SPN Befores & Afters: Part 29. An After

[tarotgal]

Summary: Scenes of hurt/comfort from before
Sam figures about about Dean's care-giving kink...
and scenes set afterward.
Pairing: Dean/Sam | Rating: Various (G through NC-17)

Part 29. An After

Sam shivers, hugs Dean closer. Dean isn’t necessarily opposed to having a mouthful of Sammy hair, but it isn’t particularly conducive to talking. He spits it out and shakes his head free, pulling back just a little. “You can’t still be cold?”

“Freezing,” Sam replies and tilts his head, curls more around Dean’s body in front of him in bed.

They’d been out in the snow all day. And all day meant all day. The sun hadn’t even been out by the time they started pounding the pavement and by the time they’d managed to find the body and dig through the frozen ground to salt and burn it, the moon was straight above in the sky. Their feet were frozen—hands too—and their noses had been red and running since the first breath of cold winter air that morning. Exhausted beyond caring, they’d lucked into stumbling upon an abandoned vacation home. The key had been under the mat. And once they’d salted all the windows and door thresholds, they’d collapsed onto the couch together. None of the beds had been made up and there hadn’t been any sheets in the linen closet.

There had been blankets. Not many, but some. There had been an afghan thrown over the back of the couch and another throw blanket on a chair. A small, square blanket folded by a picnic basket in the kitchen. And a beat up, old, gray blanket used by some moving company decades ago. Sam and Dean had taken them all, piled them on, curled up beneath.

Or mostly beneath. None of the blankets were what a normal person would call “big,” and Sam was most definitely not normal size. When he tugged a blanket up to his chin, it rode up to his knees or, worse, his waist. When he kicked them down to wrap around his feet, the blanket only came up as far as his middle. And with Dean also curled beneath, there definitely wasn’t enough blanket for comfortable coverage. Dean’s solution was the curl up smaller, fit himself beneath the blankets. But Sam was frustrated, pulling and pushing and trying to relax while ignoring the cold air in the house that didn’t have electricity.

“I’m never going to be able to get to sleep!” Sam shivers again and squeezes Dean so tight Dean has to readjust to breathe.

There’s nothing Dean can do. It’s a half day’s walk back to the car from here. Short of breaking into someone’s house to steal their blankets, there’s nothing to be done. There aren’t blankets enough to cover Sam; he’s going to have to be cold. Unless…

“Take off your pants.”

It’s dark in the room, but the bit of moonlight that shines in through the windows makes it so they can still see each other. And right now, Sam is staring at Dean with an incredulous look on his face. “Dean, I want more on me, not less.”

Dean doesn’t explain. He unzips his pants and shoves them down to his ankles, does the same to Sam’s, despite the protests. And then, with skin against skin, Dean kisses him. It’s not until Dean is practically sucking his neck like a vampire that Sam starts to warm up to the idea—literally.

In all his excitement, Sam forgets to be cold. He craves Dean’s touch, his cock. He relaxes and lets Dean take him where he needs to go. And, by the end, they’re both pushing the blankets off in order to cool down.

Comments

[ladykorana.livejournal.com]

Sorry I'm late on these last round of comments. I've been out of town for a family wedding and some touring in NYC.

Nice description of the cold hunt. Made me cold just reading it. Would like to see the boys and their cold red faces (noses) for real. ;)
Poor Sam, short blankets and throws are the worst! Good thing Dean has a fun and effective solution! Mmm, nice.