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SpN: Under The California Sun (impalas and big trucks) part 13/13
Title: Under The California Sun (impalas and big trucks)
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC
Rating: various by chapter, NC-17 overall
Word Count: 1339
Summary: I wondered what happened to those Lodi boys, too
and we come to the end of this part of the Lodi boys. thanks for hanging out with me, guys--I hope you had fun! :)
Under The California Sun (impalas and big trucks)
Okay, so what if the fucking car was outside the Wash'n'Dry? So what if Dean's out there and so what if he's with Patrick? In fact, good for them both. Dean fucking sneaking around the place like some kind of spying weasel…fuck him, and his sneaking fucking self. Hiding and not talking to him—not that he *wants* to talk to the sonofabitch.
Sam gets one foot in the door of the apartment and stops dead—suddenly, he's smelling pine and hot sand and old paper, the ghost of dog piss—time and place almost literally snap back around him, and he's home. Or what he's told himself is home the last two years now. It's never felt like this before though. Like coming back to the apartment's like a wet burlap bag settling over him. For a moment, he can't breathe. The breath, when it does come, burns like fire.
He folds his hands over his face, presses his eyes shut and when he opens them again, somehow he's in the bedroom, the drawer that belongs to him yawning open and his hands are fisted in the neat stacks of underwear and socks, tearing them apart. His bag's under the bed, it'll take him seconds to pack, and then, he can rent a car with one of the cards Dean gave him as a going away present—Sam Lorenzo, what the hell—and he'll find him, shit, Dean's about as stealthy as a fucking elephant in a china shop, or no, a bull, that's what he meant--there's no place Dean can hide. Sam knows him like he knows himself. No problem. He'll find him and make Patrick go away and it'll be like it's supposed to be. Dean needs him. He can feel it in the air—
"Samzilla--where are you, babe—I got your favorite--*food*--"
Sam shoves the drawer shut and leans over the dresser, nausea clogging his throat. He breathes, deep and even until he can stand up straight and…makes a smile appear on his face, like any normal guy would do when his boyfriend comes home to feed him and. This is the way it should be—normal, average, safe. What he's always wanted and Dean doesn't want him anyway, not like that and that's the way the world works.
They're sitting in the almost dark; the little white boxes that had held take out reflecting blue by the light of the TV. They're empty, but lined up neatly on the coffee table—it's dessert time, and Sam licks the ice cream-covered spoon knowing Jess is watching him. It's a little game they play and tonight, it's important to be what Jess expects, and it works. Jess grins at him.
"Dork," he giggles and then gets serious. "Sam…hey, Sam, what if I asked you to tell me a secret?"
"You, ah…you wanna know something? About me?" Sam swallows hard, and tries on that smile again, screwing it down tight. "Of course. All you have to do is ask…" God, don’t ask.
"Okay…is chocolate chip cookie dough your fav ice cream?"
Sam blinks…it's not quite what he'd expected, but he's not about to complain. "No…secretly, Chubby Hubby is my favorite."
Jess laughs, and goes on. "Is Winchester your real name or did you make it up to sound cool?"
Thank god. Sam takes a deep, relieved breath. This is just a game—he can do this. He answers, "Nope, Winchester is my real name. And I'm just naturally cool," he smirks.
"Who is Dean?"
The question stabs through him like a knife made of ice. "I already told you, babe, he's my brother."
"Yeah, your brother the 'boxer'. But there's more, I can feel it. What is it with him? I mean, did he do something shitty to you—"
"What? No! Look, he's no big deal—I mean, he's just my brother and that's all there is--we’re not even that close. He's just—well, he's never hurt me. He's just—you know--"
Sam racks his brain for anything he might have said about Dean that was close to the truth, but Jess just watches him flail like he's an interesting kind of bug, before looking away. "…no big deal?" he says before swirling his tongue through his ice-cream, and Sam pushes himself deeper into the couch cushions.
"You act like you don't believe me."
Jess flaps his hand, brushing Sam's words away. "Your turn to ask me a secret," is all he says.
"All right," Sam tries to turn the game of truths away from the direction it's been heading. "Um, let me think--who do you think's the sexiest guy in the world?"
Jess makes a production of thinking until Sam punches him on the arm. "Ow! You, I guess," and grabs Sam by the cheeks and kisses him. "Mmm. Yep, it's you."
Sam gasps, lips chilled by Jess' ice cream flavored kiss "Hey, you're not kissing me; you're just trying to steal my ice cream!"
"I can't fool you, can I, Kansas?"
Sam shakes his head and Jess watches him finishes the rest of his ice cream.
~~~o0o~~~
Patrick has his eye on Dean. Ever since they left John Winchester in Cali, Patrick's been watching and thinking…Dean's a little different. This Dean…he's more like his old Dean. Quieter. A bit more controlled. It's like being with John's ignited something in him…Patrick misses new Dean, in a way. All that babbling was kind of fun. And he misses the potential for sex, even though maybe, possibly, hopefully, Patrick's got someone now. He hopes he has.
Fuck.
Next time he's back at the Post, he's going to nail that down—no more guessing, no more wondering. Hell, he helped kill a monster, kind of. He can tackle Alex. He's a lot less scarier than the warg was. Pretty much.
Patrick rolls his head in Dean's direction, watches Dean's hands sooth the wheel, watches how a small smile flits over his lips and sinks, and he wonders what Dean's thinking about. He leans slightly towards the open window. The breeze whips in, ruffles his hair, slides under his collar. The air smells like hot plastic and oil. Miles pass, music pounding too loud for conversation, and finally Patrick reaches over and turns it down, ignoring Dean's startled huff of protest. "Hey." Patrick says and leans back against the pleated vinyl seat back. "Superman or Batman?"
"Say what? Is this about who you'd fuck again?" Dean asks, his eyes narrow in annoyed confusion and he grips the wheel tighter.
"No, I mean if you had your choice of them, who would you wanna be, Superman or Batman?"
Dean shakes his head. "Neither, I'm awesome enough. Music, bitch. Now."
Patrick ignores him and says, "I think you're Batman. You just jump in and get the job done, like Batman. No worries, no thinking—it's all just black and white, no grays."
"So—what, Superman's a big girl? Though that would make sense," he pretends to muse, "what with you being a princess, too."
Patrick frowns, eyes on the road ahead. "Shut up. I can't help it if I think about things. Sometimes, the way we do things…it makes me wonder if what makes a monster a monster is being on the losing side…. "
Dean flicks an incredulous look at him. "What the fuck dude—that's stupid. A monster's a monster because it kills people. Warg? Flesh-eating bitch that tried to take your head off? Where's the not being a monster there, dude? Besides, I'm Batman because Batman is totally cool—like me."
He winks and turns his attention back to the road and Patrick closes his eyes. That's Dean all over—confident, sure, and driven. Patrick sighs a little, and wonders about the future.
~~~o0o~~~
Dean plants both hands firmly on the wheel, and listens to the throaty growl of the engine under the beat of Paranoid. Taps his ring against the wheel and thinks about what an awesome Batman he'd be. What a puss Pat can be some times. Wonders when his dad's going to contact him again. Thinks about a million things and nothing at all, until it's all white noise.
fin
8-26-2009
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC
Rating: various by chapter, NC-17 overall
Word Count: 1339
Summary: I wondered what happened to those Lodi boys, too
and we come to the end of this part of the Lodi boys. thanks for hanging out with me, guys--I hope you had fun! :)
Under The California Sun (impalas and big trucks)
Okay, so what if the fucking car was outside the Wash'n'Dry? So what if Dean's out there and so what if he's with Patrick? In fact, good for them both. Dean fucking sneaking around the place like some kind of spying weasel…fuck him, and his sneaking fucking self. Hiding and not talking to him—not that he *wants* to talk to the sonofabitch.
Sam gets one foot in the door of the apartment and stops dead—suddenly, he's smelling pine and hot sand and old paper, the ghost of dog piss—time and place almost literally snap back around him, and he's home. Or what he's told himself is home the last two years now. It's never felt like this before though. Like coming back to the apartment's like a wet burlap bag settling over him. For a moment, he can't breathe. The breath, when it does come, burns like fire.
He folds his hands over his face, presses his eyes shut and when he opens them again, somehow he's in the bedroom, the drawer that belongs to him yawning open and his hands are fisted in the neat stacks of underwear and socks, tearing them apart. His bag's under the bed, it'll take him seconds to pack, and then, he can rent a car with one of the cards Dean gave him as a going away present—Sam Lorenzo, what the hell—and he'll find him, shit, Dean's about as stealthy as a fucking elephant in a china shop, or no, a bull, that's what he meant--there's no place Dean can hide. Sam knows him like he knows himself. No problem. He'll find him and make Patrick go away and it'll be like it's supposed to be. Dean needs him. He can feel it in the air—
"Samzilla--where are you, babe—I got your favorite--*food*--"
Sam shoves the drawer shut and leans over the dresser, nausea clogging his throat. He breathes, deep and even until he can stand up straight and…makes a smile appear on his face, like any normal guy would do when his boyfriend comes home to feed him and. This is the way it should be—normal, average, safe. What he's always wanted and Dean doesn't want him anyway, not like that and that's the way the world works.
They're sitting in the almost dark; the little white boxes that had held take out reflecting blue by the light of the TV. They're empty, but lined up neatly on the coffee table—it's dessert time, and Sam licks the ice cream-covered spoon knowing Jess is watching him. It's a little game they play and tonight, it's important to be what Jess expects, and it works. Jess grins at him.
"Dork," he giggles and then gets serious. "Sam…hey, Sam, what if I asked you to tell me a secret?"
"You, ah…you wanna know something? About me?" Sam swallows hard, and tries on that smile again, screwing it down tight. "Of course. All you have to do is ask…" God, don’t ask.
"Okay…is chocolate chip cookie dough your fav ice cream?"
Sam blinks…it's not quite what he'd expected, but he's not about to complain. "No…secretly, Chubby Hubby is my favorite."
Jess laughs, and goes on. "Is Winchester your real name or did you make it up to sound cool?"
Thank god. Sam takes a deep, relieved breath. This is just a game—he can do this. He answers, "Nope, Winchester is my real name. And I'm just naturally cool," he smirks.
"Who is Dean?"
The question stabs through him like a knife made of ice. "I already told you, babe, he's my brother."
"Yeah, your brother the 'boxer'. But there's more, I can feel it. What is it with him? I mean, did he do something shitty to you—"
"What? No! Look, he's no big deal—I mean, he's just my brother and that's all there is--we’re not even that close. He's just—well, he's never hurt me. He's just—you know--"
Sam racks his brain for anything he might have said about Dean that was close to the truth, but Jess just watches him flail like he's an interesting kind of bug, before looking away. "…no big deal?" he says before swirling his tongue through his ice-cream, and Sam pushes himself deeper into the couch cushions.
"You act like you don't believe me."
Jess flaps his hand, brushing Sam's words away. "Your turn to ask me a secret," is all he says.
"All right," Sam tries to turn the game of truths away from the direction it's been heading. "Um, let me think--who do you think's the sexiest guy in the world?"
Jess makes a production of thinking until Sam punches him on the arm. "Ow! You, I guess," and grabs Sam by the cheeks and kisses him. "Mmm. Yep, it's you."
Sam gasps, lips chilled by Jess' ice cream flavored kiss "Hey, you're not kissing me; you're just trying to steal my ice cream!"
"I can't fool you, can I, Kansas?"
Sam shakes his head and Jess watches him finishes the rest of his ice cream.
Patrick has his eye on Dean. Ever since they left John Winchester in Cali, Patrick's been watching and thinking…Dean's a little different. This Dean…he's more like his old Dean. Quieter. A bit more controlled. It's like being with John's ignited something in him…Patrick misses new Dean, in a way. All that babbling was kind of fun. And he misses the potential for sex, even though maybe, possibly, hopefully, Patrick's got someone now. He hopes he has.
Fuck.
Next time he's back at the Post, he's going to nail that down—no more guessing, no more wondering. Hell, he helped kill a monster, kind of. He can tackle Alex. He's a lot less scarier than the warg was. Pretty much.
Patrick rolls his head in Dean's direction, watches Dean's hands sooth the wheel, watches how a small smile flits over his lips and sinks, and he wonders what Dean's thinking about. He leans slightly towards the open window. The breeze whips in, ruffles his hair, slides under his collar. The air smells like hot plastic and oil. Miles pass, music pounding too loud for conversation, and finally Patrick reaches over and turns it down, ignoring Dean's startled huff of protest. "Hey." Patrick says and leans back against the pleated vinyl seat back. "Superman or Batman?"
"Say what? Is this about who you'd fuck again?" Dean asks, his eyes narrow in annoyed confusion and he grips the wheel tighter.
"No, I mean if you had your choice of them, who would you wanna be, Superman or Batman?"
Dean shakes his head. "Neither, I'm awesome enough. Music, bitch. Now."
Patrick ignores him and says, "I think you're Batman. You just jump in and get the job done, like Batman. No worries, no thinking—it's all just black and white, no grays."
"So—what, Superman's a big girl? Though that would make sense," he pretends to muse, "what with you being a princess, too."
Patrick frowns, eyes on the road ahead. "Shut up. I can't help it if I think about things. Sometimes, the way we do things…it makes me wonder if what makes a monster a monster is being on the losing side…. "
Dean flicks an incredulous look at him. "What the fuck dude—that's stupid. A monster's a monster because it kills people. Warg? Flesh-eating bitch that tried to take your head off? Where's the not being a monster there, dude? Besides, I'm Batman because Batman is totally cool—like me."
He winks and turns his attention back to the road and Patrick closes his eyes. That's Dean all over—confident, sure, and driven. Patrick sighs a little, and wonders about the future.
Dean plants both hands firmly on the wheel, and listens to the throaty growl of the engine under the beat of Paranoid. Taps his ring against the wheel and thinks about what an awesome Batman he'd be. What a puss Pat can be some times. Wonders when his dad's going to contact him again. Thinks about a million things and nothing at all, until it's all white noise.
fin
8-26-2009
no subject
I hope, if you get back to this verse, there will be more Sam. I missed him. I'm a Sam girl, I admit.
no subject
I'd love to do a sequel and return to Sam's POV. But when you write Dean, you're writing him the whole time with Sam on your mind so that it seems weird when you're finished and there's actually little physical Sam in the fic. Still, for a Dean!girl, I probably have more fic written from Sam's pov than Dean's. ;)
Hah--rereading this comment before posting, I think I actually figured out that the end of this series *needs* to be from Sam's POV! lol! thank you!
no subject
Yeah, please give us Sam's POV. I love Dean as well as anyone, but Sam's my guy and, to me, he's just as important as Dean. Besides, and no offense to Patrick, I'm more interested in Dean and Sam's relationship than I am Dean and Pat's. Just sayin'.