#If so i need more brotherly moments between them lego | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spoookymuulders · 4 years

Text

you make my heart beat like the rain

read it on ao3 here total word count: 7067 chapter word count: 3467 warnings: mentions of bruising

chapter two. there are no words left to speak. in which luke alvez definitely does not have a crush.

The smell of scrambled eggs and bacon floats through the air as Luke tugs open the door to the diner. Early morning chatter bounces through the restaurant while regular patrons sip at their coffee, waitresses flitting between tables with warm smiles and bright eyes. Luke waves to Josie as he settles into his usual spot, elbows resting on the counter. Before Josie can step in front of him, however, Ellie appears, beaming at him, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and Luke’s heart jumps into his throat.

Morning, sunshine! She signs. Luke returns the greeting as Ellie grabs the coffee pot from the back counter and fills the mug she’s set in front of him. He sips at his coffee as she signs at him, nodding his confirmation that he’d like his usual, please and thank you, and watches Ellie as she bounces away, leaning on the counter a little ways down and refilling Jason’s coffee cup with a smile.

Sure, Luke doesn’t need to go to the diner every morning before school. Nobody needs to eat out every morning. But it’s become part of his morning routine. Besides, diner coffee tastes better than coffee made at home, and Ellie’s always been more than happy to fill his travel mug for him before he heads off to work. He drags a newspaper closer as Ellie slips into the kitchen, flicking through the pages till he lands on the funnies.

He chuckles to himself as he reads them, looking up and pushing the paper away when Ellie sets a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him, and he grins broadly at her.

I heard a rumor that there’s a new kindergarten teacher in town. Ellie signs. Luke nods, sipping at his coffee and wiping his hands on his napkin before he answers her.

Zara or Zelda or something. He signs, I guess she’s staying at the bed and breakfast until she finds an apartment. Ellie hums thoughtfully, leaning a hip against the counter and sipping at her own coffee.

You be nice to her, Luke Alvez. She signs at him, squinting lightly. Luke feigns offense, putting a hand to his chest, and his heart flutters when Ellie laughs. The sound is warm and sweet and makes him think of freshly baked cookies and caramel-flavored coffee. They sign back and forth sporadically throughout the rest of his visit, and he tucks ten bucks under his plate. He waves to Ellie as he slides off his stool and heads for the door, stretching as he slips out - he has just enough time to stop home and grab Roxy before he heads to school.

The tinkling of the bell above the diner door catches his attention and he turns back around, raising a brow when Ellie comes bounding down the stairs after him and pushes a paper bag into his hands.

You didn’t think I’d forget your two-year anniversary at the school, did you? She signs. Luke blinks twice, then smiles warmly, his heart swelling - in all honesty, he’d forgotten about his two-year anniversary as PE teacher at Callahan Elementary, so he’s not entirely sure why Ellie remembers. He peeks into the bag, gasping when he spies three of her famous brownies, and hauls her into a hug.

She laughs in his ear, squeezing him tightly for a moment before she steps back. He signs about a thousand thank you’s as Ellie waves him off, still giggling, and he tells himself that the fluttering in his chest and his stomach is because he’s so excited about the brownies and not at all because he’s been hopelessly ass-over-head in love with Ellison Mackenzie since the day he met her two-and-a-half years ago.

****

Zoe smooths her skirt, turning in front of the mirror and wondering for the fifth time if she should change again. Glancing at her watch makes the decision for her and she grabs her bag quickly, throwing it over her shoulder and hurrying downstairs. She scurries into the kitchen, stumbling to a halt when she sees Hotch and his son at the table, the boy’s legs swinging as he grins broadly at her.

“Morning.” Hotch says, raising a brow. Zoe clears her throat quietly and fixes her hair.

“Good morning.” She says softly.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Hotch asks. Zoe shakes her head quickly.

“No, thank you - I’m running a little behind, actually.” She says. Hotch nods and sips at his coffee, wishing her luck as she hurries for the door, digging her keys out of her bag. She pauses on the porch to double-check one last time that she has everything, and is heading down the stairs when the door bangs open behind her. She freezes, her heart jumping into her throat, and turns around slowly, relaxing only when she sees Jack hurrying towards her.

“Zoe, I made this for you!” He crows, waving a piece of construction paper at her. She blinks and furrows her brows, feeling the tension leave her shoulders as she takes the paper. Jack had taken to her almost as soon as she had walked through the door on Friday afternoon with JJ. He’d been patient enough to let her settle into her room, then had eagerly asked if she wanted to play legos with him, completely ignoring his father’s reprimanding look. But Zoe had agreed, settling on the rug in the living room with Jack and helping him build an X-Wing, and she’d found herself smiling and relaxing little by little.

She looks at the paper he’s shoved into her hands now, tipping her head. It’s folded in half (sort of) and there’s a big smiley face drawn on the front. She opens the homemade card and feels a smile grace her features. It reads Good luck, Zoe! In Jack’s messy scrawl. Each letter is a different size than the one before it, and the G is backwards, but it makes her heart soar. Crouching down, she draws Jack into a hug and squeezes him gently.

“Thank you so much, Jack.” She says softly. He throws his arms around her neck and returns the squeeze easily, then beams at her as he steps back. “I’m gonna put this on my desk.”

“I told daddy I’d come check on you during lunch.” He says seriously, and Zoe chuckles.

“Well, I’ll see you at lunch, then.” She says. Jack nods and gives her a mock salute, then runs back inside to finish his breakfast. Armed with a newfound confidence and a handmade card, Zoe hurries to her car and heads for the school. She looks around the town as she drives, glad that the school isn’t far away, and parks in the faculty lot. She exhales quietly before she gets out, and grabs the box of supplies out of her trunk, knocking it closed and looking up at the school. It’s been years since she started at a new school, and it’s like being the new kid all over again.

A loud bark makes her turn around quickly, and she squeaks when she spies a German shepherd running at her full-tilt, a young man sprinting after her. Zoe goes stock-still, heart pounding, but the dog slows to a trot as she nears and starts sniffing around Zoe’s ankles. She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding as the man approaches as well, grimacing.

“I’m so sorry, she gets really excited about new people.” He says apologetically. “But she doesn’t usually run off like that. Roxy, here - here.” The dog pads over to sit beside him and looks up at him, tipping her head innocently as he snaps her leash onto her collar. He looks up again after a moment and offers a welcoming smile. “You must be the new kindergarten teacher.”

“That’s me.” Zoe says, offering a small, nervous smile of her own. “I’m Zoe.”

“Luke, nice to meet you.” He returns, sticking a hand out. Zoe adjusts her grip on the box and shakes Luke’s hand. “I’m the PE teacher.” Zoe nods and they fall into step side-by-side as they head into the school, chattering lightly. Luke does most of the talking, Zoe nodding and chiming in here and there, but mostly she stays quiet. Luke finds himself feeling an almost brotherly sort of protection over her five minutes into their mostly-one-sided conversation, but he keeps that to himself. He walks Zoe to her classroom, leaning against the doorframe as she slips in, Roxy peeking in around his legs.

He watches Zoe as she sets her box on the desk and looks around, exhaling softly. She instantly seems more comfortable, more at home than she had in the parking lot or the hallway, and Luke makes a mental note of this. Glancing over her shoulder, she offers a small smile.

“Thanks for walking me to class.” She says. Luke chuckles and nods.

“Well, I promised a friend I’d be nice to the new kid.” He says, his tone gently teasing. Zoe laughs then, and Luke grins, proud of himself, because that’s a genuine laugh. “Hey, I’ll come find you during lunch, see how your day’s going.”

“Ah, two prince charmings coming to check on me during lunch? Must be my lucky day.” She says with a smile. When Luke raises a brow, she continues, “Jack Hotchner said he told his dad he’d come check on me during lunch, too.” Luke chuckles and nods, checking his watch and giving a wave before he heads down the hall towards the gym.

Alone in her classroom now, Zoe turns slowly and takes it all in. She’s glad she’d come in over the weekend to make the classroom feel more like it’s hers. She’d received the class roster and taken the time to set up cubbies and seating charts, had lost herself in setting everything up just right, and when she’d checked the clock and realized it was 11:45 at night, she’d felt calmer than she had for months beforehand.

She sets a few things out on her desk now, including her card from Jack, and perches in her chair behind it with an exhale. She has five more minutes before the students start arriving, so she takes the time to set out a few morning activities before going to hover by the door and greet her new class as they come in.

****

The morning goes by in a whirlwind, and before Zoe knows it, it’s lunch time. She escorts her students down to the cafeteria, making sure everybody has their lunch before heading back to the classroom with her own tray. She sinks into her chair with a slow sigh, smiling slightly as she nibbles at a carrot, and glances up when a knock sounds at the door. She waves a hand for Luke to come in, smiling when she realizes he’s being tailed closely by Jack.

“How’s your first day goin’?” Luke asks, pulling a chair up to the desk. He helps Jack settle into it and pulls up another, flopping into that one and nibbling at his own lunch.

“Really good, actually.” Zoe says, smiling. “The kids are great. Everyone’s been super nice.” Jack swallows a mouthful of his sandwich and chimes in.

“Mrs. Wilson said she thinks you’re doing a great job!” He says, grinning brightly. “She even told Mrs. Strauss!” Luke lets out a low whistle, and Zoe glances at him, brows furrowed just so.

“Mrs. Wilson is the secretary - and I’m assuming you met Strauss when you had your interview?” Zoe shakes her head.

“Not in person, at least,” She says, “I had a video interview, it was before I moved here. I haven’t had a chance to meet her in person yet.”

“Well, you probably will by the end of the day.” Luke tells her. “She’s.. A tough one. To say the least.” Zoe grimaces, suddenly nervous for the end of the day. She lets Luke and Jack distract her through the rest of their lunch hour, wandering back to the cafeteria with Jack when their time is up. They part ways with Luke at the gym and Jack slides his little hand into Zoe’s. She glances down at him with a small smile as he swings their hands lightly.

Jack runs off as soon as he spies his class, shouting a farewell over his shoulder, and Zoe corralls her students by the door. They line up quickly and bounce after her down the hall, heading for the playground. Zoe hovers by the edge of the structures as the kids play, keeping count of each of them. When recess is over, she leads them back to the classroom, and they stop in the doorway, frowning curiously as they look around the room - Zoe had taken a moment as they’d left to flick the overhead lights off, opting for a few strings of fairy lights instead.

“Miss Zoe?” Pipes up one little voice. Zoe tips her head, indicating that she’s listening. “Why are the lights off?”

“We’re gonna have some quiet time.” She says, moving to crouch in front of the kids. “And I thought it could be fun for all of us to read a book together.”

“What book?” Chimes in another little voice, this one from a little girl named Savannah.

“Well, I’m not sure yet. I thought we could all choose one together.” Zoe says, smiling gently. Fifteen confused pairs of eyes blink at her for a moment, and she raises a brow.

“We get to pick the book?” Abel asks. Zoe nods, tipping her head.

“I have a few choices we can all pick from.” She says, standing and waving a hand for the kids to follow her. One of the things she’d done over the weekend was set up an armchair in one corner of the room and laid some pillows and bean bag chairs around it. The kids settle into their seats as Zoe scoops her books off the seat of the armchair and perches in it. She lists off the books she’s grabbed, takes a vote, and smiles when they settle on The Secret Garden - it’s one of her favorites.

They read the first two chapters of the book and spend the rest of the afternoon working on some literacy problems in the dim lighting of the classroom. When the last ten minutes of the day hit and Zoe tells them she doesn’t assign homework when they ask, it’s like Christmas came two and a half months early. The kids go bounding out of the classroom as soon as they’re released, shouting about no homework and the garden they’d talked about earlier. Zoe waves after them, flicking the lights back on and blinking in the sudden brightness.

She’s in the process of cleaning up and pushing the chairs in when someone announces their presence at the door by clearing their throat twice. Zoe looks up and straightens immediately when she realizes it’s the principal, fixing her skirt lightly.

“Mrs. Strauss.” She says.

Erin Strauss is a formidable woman to say the least. She is certainly the most principal-looking woman Zoe’s ever seen, with her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and her matching beige skirt-and-blazer set.

“Miss Collins.” Strauss says coolly. “I trust your first day went well?” Zoe clears her throat and nods, offering a nervous smile.

“Very well, yes, thank you.” Zoe says. “The kids are great, and everyone’s been really nice.” Strauss nods and hums, coming further into the room and fixing a book on the shelf lightly.

“I heard your students shouting as they left for the day. Something about no homework?” Strauss says, brows lifting towards her hairline, and Zoe’s heart jumps into her throat.

“Yes, ma’am.” She says, shifting her weight. “I’m a firm believer that homework isn’t beneficial or necessary. The children do enough work here at school, I don’t think they need to be sent home with even more.” Strauss hums, watching her for a few long moments.

“We’ll see about that.” Strauss says. “Welcome to Callahan Elementary, Miss Collins.” With that, she turns on her heel and strides out of the room. Zoe exhales quietly, feeling the tension leave her shoulders instantly, and she gathers up her things, shoving them into her bag. She shoulders it quickly and slips out, hurrying down the hall towards the gym. Luke is just coming out when she approaches, and his warm smile calms the frantic butterflies in her chest and stomach a little.

“Hey!” He says brightly, holding securely to Roxy’s leash when she tugs on it. “How was your first day?”

“Strauss hates me.” Zoe says miserably, reaching out to scratch Roxy’s chin gently. Roxy licks at her hand eagerly as Luke chuckles quietly.

“She doesn’t hate you.” He says, falling into step beside Zoe as they head out of the school. “She just.. Takes a while to warm up to people.”

“How long did it take her to warm up to you?” Zoe asks, looking up at him. Luke grimaces sheepishly.

“I’ll let you know when she does.” He says. Zoe looks at him incredulously, then sighs.

“I thought she was gonna rip my head off because I didn’t give out homework!” She says. Luke’s brows lift and Zoe huffs lightly. “Homework doesn’t help anyone with anything. All it does is add more stress and that’s the last thing kids need.” Luke chuckles quietly, shaking his head fondly.

“Alright, c’mon.” He says, stopping at Zoe’s car and hovering by the front. “I want you to follow me, okay? I’m gonna give you a proper welcome to Callahan, and you’ll feel way better about your run-in with Strauss after, I promise.” Zoe shifts her weight and nods, climbing into her car and waiting for Luke to pull out of the parking lot. She follows him closely to the diner, looking it over with a small smile when she parks and climbs out - it seems to be the quintessential small-town diner, with a neon sign on the roof and red vinyl seats visible through the large windows at the front. Luke waves a hand, leading her inside.

He settles into a booth for a change, letting Roxy settle at his feet, and Zoe slides in across from him. Almost immediately, a young brunette appears at the end of the table, her hands flying as she signs at Luke. Zoe watches with wide eyes, awestruck as she always has been by the beauty of sign language.

“This is Ellie.” Luke says, signing as he speaks. He signs Zoe’s name and Ellie beams at her, waving eagerly. Zoe returns the smile and waves back, shuffling her feet lightly. Luke signs back and forth with Ellie for a few moments before Ellie bounces away, heading behind the counter with their drink orders scribbled on her notepad.

“Ellie owns the diner.” Luke tells Zoe, nodding when she does. “She grew up here and moved away for culinary school, which was a little rough. She lost her hearing when she was seventeen.”

“Damn.” Zoe says softly, glancing at the girl behind the counter. She’s bright and bubbly, and it’s clear to Zoe that Ellie has never let her lack of hearing dissuade her from anything. Luke nods as Ellie reappears with their sodas. She hovers, notepad ready and waiting, and scribbles down their orders as Luke signs them.

“She told me once that her family used to come here all the time when she was a kid, but right before she moved away to go to school, it closed.” He says, sipping at his drink as Ellie flounces away. “She saved up every penny she could and bought the place as soon as she moved back, and it’s like a Callahan landmark now.” Zoe hums thoughtfully.

“It seems like everyone knows some ASL.” She muses, watching another man a few booths down interact with Ellie.

“Yeah, all the regulars learned a handful of signs when she moved back and bought the place, just to make it easier on everyone.” Luke says. “I took it as a language in high school and continued in college, so I taught some of them.”

Ellie comes back over at this moment, two plates in her hands, and sets them on the table. Luke and Zoe both sign a quick thank you and Ellie smiles, squeezing Luke’s shoulder gently as she turns and heads to another booth at the opposite end of the diner. Luke watches Ellie go with a small smile, then digs into his burger eagerly.

Nibbling at her fries, Zoe watches Ellie go, then turns back to Luke.

“So.” She says. Luke raises a brow.

“So.” He repeats.

“So, exactly how long have you liked her?”

Luke chokes on his soda.

#tiny town au #au: electric love #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #mine*#criminal minds fanfiction #abuse tw

2 notes · View notes

qveensbury · 7 years

Text

million years ago - Hometown Glory: chapter 2

prologue | 1 | {also on AO3}

saudade: a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent

“What happened between Dad and Ms. Kuruk?”

Azula raised an eyebrow as she sipped.

Izumi tried to keep her cool as her aunt took an extra beat or two to finish her “sip” and set down her drink .

“Izumi, I’m surprised you jumped right to the point. Perhaps you are your father’s daughter.” She smirked at Izumi’s scowl.

Izumi shrugged although she felt a twinge of guilt. Her aunt was super busy and she did appreciate getting to go out with Aunt Azula every now and again. She didn’t like pulling her aunt away unless it was major or she needed massive help. Azula assured her it was fine but Izumi didn’t like to waste her aunt’s time.

Izumi was hoping her aunt would brush it off — what she and Kya saw. Just two eleven-year-olds who misunderstood how adults related.

“Dad introduced her last week and he talked about being her best friend. It sounded —“

“Like he was in love?”

Izumi’s pulse started to pick up and she started bouncing her leg tapping her heel.

Azula took in Izumi’s wide eyes. Agni Zuko. Even after all these years. She stirred the straw in her drink.

“Your dad got kicked out of the private school we went to when he was in the eighth grade. He made a fuss about something at a Model UN meeting and it embarrassed the principal. So, he started going to public school.”

She smiled softly, slowing down. “We were both so angry as kids. My anger was more cynical, cold. I wanted revenge. Zuko just wanted balance. But at thirteen, fourteen you don’t realize balance is a myth from folklore and fairytales. So you get frustrated and start fighting air. He needed peace but couldn’t figure that out.

“Then he met her. Katara.” Azula smirked. “They were like cats and dogs. He’d complain about her to Uncle all the time. Uncle would just smile knowingly.

“She brought him balance. She knew how to set things askew back into place. And, she did that with Zuko. It was,” Azula paused furrowing her forehead, before shaking her head.

“The timing was wrong. They were kids and they loved each other. Who knows if they ever talked about it. Whether or not they figure out if it was romantic or brotherly love.” Azula paused, her eyelids lowering.

“But your father gave up. He was two years ahead of her and she started dating Aang, her children’s father, after Zuko graduated. They started to drift apart after that.

“It was never the same,” Azula lifted her drink to her lips. “Your mother was one of my best friends and your father loved her fiercely. But, it wasn’t the same.

“Katara did something for him. She lifted up his head. Mother used to call us her little prince and princess. Zuko took a tumble after being expelled and Katara helped him put his crown back on. She changed him for the better.”

Izumi’s eyebrows knit. What would it mean now?

“Why the sudden interest?” Azula asked, lowering her cup.

Izumi felt trapped. “W-well—“

“She would be good for him. For all of you.” Azula closed her eyes and took a drink.

“Oh man,” Sokka laughed, “I’d forgotten I’d wrote this.”

Kya clenched her jaw to keep from shaking the table. “Uncle Sokkawhy did you write it? Was it a joke?” She gestured to her mother’s yearbook.

Her uncle leaned back crossing his arms. He drew still and exhaled. “I was 17 and stupid when I wrote it. ‘To the one who got away. If the odds are in your favor, may you meet a man who’ll make all your dreams come true or die giving you your freedom. Katara, please don’t let this golden opportunity slip by. Lighting doesn’t strike twice.’”

“Why write it in her yearbook?”

Sokka shrugged. “I thought Katara and Zuko were the perfect pair.”

“I thought they never dated.”

“They didn’t. But, they didn’t need to with their chemistry. They both stopped trying.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know exactly. They were two of the most mature people. I know in high school it just made sense.” Sokka grimaced. “Well actually, there was a shift. Our friend circle changed when Zuko graduate and Aang and Toph joined high school.

“Katara had a lot on her plate junior year when Aang came along. She was burning out. The responsibility maybe to much. And Aang gave her an escape. Rational Momtara taking risks, being flexible.

“It was a bright and quick infatuation. Aang couldn’t stand to be apart from your mother. He was still a kid. Freshman in high school think they know it all. ‘Follow your heart’ and ignore the sun melting your wings.” Sokka looked away from his niece focusing on his fingers. “She started to miss home, her friends.”

“What do you mean?”

Sokka hummed in thought. “I don’t know Kya. Maybe your mom or Suki can give you a better account. I feel pretty biased.”

“Bias is fine.” Kya knew bias.

“Your parents loved each other.”

Loved.

“Aang was the life of the party. He could get Katara out of her head.” He paused, tinkering with the gadget in front of him. “She needed it. She needed to learn how to take risks. Katara had this homebody mentality and her tribe was her tribe. Aang pushed her to follow her feelings.”

“Didn’t she like Zuko?”

“Mr. Sozin?” Sokka stressed, shooting her a look. “Yea, she might have. I thought so. But, the things you should look for in someone you marry seem boring when you’re young. Your feelings romanticize things.” He slowed down, “You feel like everything is passing you by if you don’t seize the rightness of the moment right then and there. Until you realize, you’ve missed your golden opportunity.”

“She still likes him, Mr. Sozin.” Kya felt her heart thud. Prove us wrong Uncle Sokka.

Sokka’s mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled. But, he didn’t say anything. He just shrugged.

It was the same look he gave Bumi when he asked his uncle if was getting the Lego explorer set for Christmas or when Sokka surprised them with a day at the beach.

Kya felt giddy and dread.

Her mom was still in love with Izumi’s dad.

A/N: This is my favorite song from “25″ and one of my favorite songs tied with “Someone Like You”. I have been obsessed with this song and have been listening to it on repeat all through writing the series. There’s something so nostalgic about this song and it deeply resonates with me.

next >

#zutara fanfiction #zutara au #hometown glory zk au #atla au #atla

6 notes · View notes

soy-em · 7 years

Text

New Wincest Fic: Distraction

Summary: Losing his memories means that Dean loses inhibitions Sam didn't even know he had.Missing scene from s12 e11 Regarding Dean

Rating: PG13

Words: 2224

A03

“Could be a memory spell. Did his hair fall out? His body hair too?”

“What?“

“From the neck down, is he smooth like a ken doll?”

“I don’t know, and I’m not checking, either.”

The problem is, as soon as Sam puts the phone down on Rowena and her barely concealed glee, he knows he’ll be checking. He might mouth off to Rowena about it, but if there’s a chance that Dean’s body hair is a clue to saving his brother and his memory, then he’s not going to pass it up.

He sighs to himself. He’s barely holding back panic by the skin of his teeth, but at the same time, the whole situation is so unbearably frustrating. Having Dean is rapidly descending into having a large, skilled toddler who has license, in the eyes of the public, to go anywhere and do anything that adults do - but without any of the sense of preservation that most adults spend their lives developing (never mind the heightened sense of awareness both Winchester’s have experienced since childhood). He feels like he has to watch Dean every second to make sure he’s not causing mischief or wandering off, putting himself into who knows what danger.

So Sam already knows that he’s going to try anything to fix this. Including checking out Dean’s body hair.

The problem is that Dean, with his dark blonde hair and fair, freckled skin, has always been so lightly haired. Sam himself is covered in dark fur on his chest, arms, legs, hell even his feet - easy enough to check. But Sam has been sharing motel rooms with Dean for almost his entire life and he knows that Dean couldn’t be more different. So he’s going to have to really look.

His plan gets derailed slightly by the fact that Dean has, as Sam feared, just wandered off, but by the time he’s located his errant big brother and gotten them secure in the right hotel room again, he’s determined to bite the bullet.

“Hey Dean,” he stutters, not quite sure how to articulate the next part of the conversation. Dean pauses where he’s investigating the differences between the lamps in the motel room, flicking the switches and exclaiming over the different levels of light.

“Yeah?”

“I need to check something. Come here for a second.” Sam steels himself for this most un-brotherly of moments. “Can you take your jacket off?”

“Sure,” Dean replies, with something like the grin he’d given the waitress earlier that day. “Anything for you.”

Dean looks like he’s seconds away from winking, so Sam scowls at him. It doesn’t stop Dean from sliding the first of his many layers off, and a quick glance at Dean’s wrists, hidden under white Fed shirt-cuffs, tells Sam that this isn’t going to be enough. “Shirt, too,” he says, heart sinking.

Dean does wink this time, the ingrained impulse to flirt apparently impossible to refuse. Despite the severity of the situation, Sam is unable to stop his own eyes from rolling.

“Calm down, cowboy. I just need to check something for a spell.”

“Do we know spells? What about witches?” Dean looks ridiculously excited at this - when he gets better, Sam is definitely going to remind him that at least once in his life he was pleased at the idea of witches.

“Yes, we know witches. Now, shirt off.”

Dean grins again, and slowly pulls his shirt over his head, making a big production of it. As inch after inch of golden, freckled skin is revealed, Sam is reminded (as if he could ever forget) why women flock to Dean. His brother is just as strong and muscular as Sam is, if not more so, but it’s so clearly honestly earned muscle, not a hint of gym-rat definition. Sam always feel self-conscious about his own body, about how hard he works to keep in shape, whereas Dean has always seemed to put on muscle without the slightest effort, and it shows.

Dean finally pulls his shirt over his head with a flourish, and Sam is caught staring. “Like what you see?”

Sam flushes up to his hairline. “I just need to check something,” he forces out. “Only take a second.”

“Shame,” Dean says, low.

Sam can’t remember the last time he paid attention to the detail of Dean’s body, usually more concerned with patching up whatever wound his brother has acquired, so he can’t remember if Dean has always been this smooth. He runs his hand down Dean’s forearm, and can barely feel any hair there either, just fine, soft golden fuzz - certainly nothing compared to his own. His heart is starting to beat double time at the thought that maybe this is the spell kicking in.

“Feels nice,” Dean’s voice breaks him out of his burgeoning panic.

“I’m just checking.” He pulls Dean’s arm above his head and peers at his brother’s underarm.

“Mmm, kinky,” Dean says, helpfully leaning back against the wall and raising his other arm up, crossing them above his head. “Do we normally do this?”

“God Dean, no. We’re brothers.” Sam is starting to feel like the situation is spiralling out of his control.

“Shame,” Dean repeats. “You’re gorgeous. What a waste.” He pulls his wrist out of Sam’s hold and trails his fingers along Sam’s cheekbone, and then under his jaw. Sam shivers, caught for the moment in Dean’s green eyes.

“Brothers, Dean,” he finally manages, shaking his brother’s hand away from his face.

“Is that an issue?” Dean sounds like he’s genuinely asking, and Sam is reminded how quickly Dean is slipping away. He looks determinedly at Dean’s underarms.

“Did you always have this little body hair? Did you not go through puberty?”

His tone is snarky, but Dean doesn’t even seem to register it. “Definitely did. I can show you the proof if you want.” His voice has dropped an octave and it’s a quiet, suggestive whisper.

Sam definitely hasn’t realised that somehow they’ve ended up with Dean pressed against the grimy motel wall, Sam looming over him and Dean’s arms still pinned above his head. Time seems to have slowed, Dean’s heavy-lidded eyes, with his ridiculous, beautiful eyelashes blinking up at him in almost slow motion. Somewhere, very deep down, Sam tries to remember that Dean knows exactly what he's doing, exactly the effect he has on people, and is not afraid to use that knowledge to get exactly what he wants. But with Dean so close, smelling comfortingly of big brother and looking like he’d be up for anything, it's hard to focus on that.

“I bet you’ve got some real proof to show me as well,” Dean continues. “Guy your size. Bet you’re packing.” Dean licks his lips, and Sam can’t look away. It feels like he’s trapped, caught in treacle, his thoughts increasingly stuck on his beautiful brother.

“Dean,” he tries one last time, “we’re brothers.”

“Uh huh, so you keep saying. Don’t see the big deal.” Dean surges up, suddenly, pressing his lips and body against Sam’s. Their hips snug in against each other as if they were made to fit and Dean licks insistently across Sam’s lips. Sam’s heart is pounding in his chest, his vision almost swimming with the many, many emotions swirling through his mind. He opens his lips on reflex, and Dean hums happily.

“God, you’re so pretty,” Dean says, pulling back for a moment. “Would be such a waste if we didn’t do this.” He dives back in and Sam sinks for a moment into the abyss, only able to focus on how goddamn good it feels as Dean nips at his lower lip, soothing it seconds later. Whatever else Dean might have forgotten, he hasn’t lost any of his skills here. His hands tighten impulsively around Dean’s raised wrists and Dean groans.

“Yeah, pin me. Feels good.” His brother bucks against him. “God, so you’re so big. Just big all over.”

Dean’s dirty mouth is enough to snap some sense into Sam, and he realises to his shame that he’s hard in his pants. He tries to ignore the fact that Dean is, too, and they’ve been rocking lightly against each other, which has no doubt been a major contributor to how cloudy his mind feels. He uses his grip on Dean to put distance between them.

“Dean, no.”

To his credit, Dean clearly hasn’t forgotten about consent, and he stops immediately. He does pout though, and Sam has to look away from those beautiful, plump lips - something he finds unimaginably difficult now that he knows how they taste. He suddenly feels like every creepy guy he’s ever seen checking out his brother, objectifying him.

“Dean, we’re brothers. I know you don’t remember, but that does matter. And you’ll regret this once you feel better again.” Taking another step back is one of the hardest things Sam’s ever had to do.

Dean snorts. “I absolutely cannot imagine that. How often do I ever meet guys as hot as you?”

Sam feels like he’s thirteen again, with the amount he’s blushed since he started this.

“You don’t usually go for guys,” he can’t help saying.

Dean seems honestly confused by this. “I am 100% sure that’s not true.”

“I am 100% sure that it is,” Sam counters.

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. Or we could test it out…” Dean’s smirk is fully back in place. He’s still up against the wall where Sam had pushed him, still shirtless and of course, still stunning. He licks his lips oh so slowly, eyes sliding down Sam’s body to where Sam is still hard in his pants.

Sam’s breath is still coming short, and he scrambles for a way to stop this while he still can. Dean is like a child, he thinks, frustrated because Dean has always been better with kids than he has. What would he do with a child who wanted to do something they shouldn’t?

His mind tumbles gracelessly about for a few moments, pinging between ‘child’ and ‘so, so hot’ and back to ‘child’ again, before somewhere from the depths of his brain he pulls up Jess’s five year old nephew. He hasn’t thought about the kid in years, had only met him once or twice (god, he must be nearly adult by now, no, don’t think about that) but he vividly remembers the kid wanting a toy gun. Jess hadn’t been willing to buy him one - and had distracted him with lego.

Distraction, he thinks, elated.

Unfortunately, while he’s been trying to think about tactics, Dean’s hand has moved to his fly, and Sam can now tell that Dean definitely doesn’t lack body hair - Sam can see golden-brown curls just under where Dean’s hand is pushed into his own pants.

Dragging his eyes away, he says, “Dean, have I told you about the time we fought zombies?”

Dean’s eyes snap from Sam’s crotch to his face. “Zombies?” he says, eyes bright.

“Yeah, Dean. We fought them a while back. If you put your shirt back on I’ll tell you all about it. And the time we fought this ghost that made you so scared you got chased by a tiny little dog.”

“Yeah right,” Dean says, offended. “That so didn’t happen.”

“Did so.”

“How?” Dean is, thankfully, doing up his fly now and he pulls one of Sam’s t-shirts over his head.

“Well…” Sam begins, relieved.

They get through the next couple of days without Dean propositioning him again, or trying to kiss him, or any of the thoughts that Sam just doesn’t really have time to process right now. There’s a slightly tense moment when Dean seems to think that Sam and Rowena are going to enact live Skinemax porn just for his entertainment (Rowena looks so amused that Sam almost strangles her, has to remind himself how badly he needs her help), but otherwise, they manage to get Dean’s memory back without any more compromising moments.

Dean is quite clear with Rowena that he doesn’t remember anything, and even through his own relief, the transformation of her face from barely-concealed worry to a lighthearted smile is enough to pique his interest. She even hands the spellbook over without a fuss, and it’s so out of character that Sam is suspicious. He files it away in his mind to ponder at a later date.

He doesn’t want to dwell on what they’ve experienced the last few days; in fact, he’d be happy to never think again about the panic and despair he’d barely kept at bay. But now that he’s not fixated on that, the other thoughts keep creeping back in - the ones about how his brother had tasted, how he’d felt pressed up against Sam, how sweetly he’d let Sam pin him against the wall. How sure Dean had been that he was into men. Sam just can’t stop thinking about it.

“Anything weird happen while I lost my memory, Sammy?” Dean asks that evening, as he’s undressing, shucking a few of his layers before going for a shower.

“Nope,” Sam says studiously, eyes on his laptop.

“Boring.” His voice slides into the kind of teasing, flirty tone usually reserved for waitresses or cheerleaders, and he winks at Sam. “Don’t forget Dory got her memory back though.”

It’s only after the bathroom door slams shut that Sam realises that Dean had never mentioned Dory before he lost his memories.

Maybe his brother remembers after all. “Shit.”

Sequel?

#wincest #fic #My fic #spn s12e11

123 notes · View notes