Fic: Lock Jaw (Spn, Dean/Sam)

[wesleysgirl]

Written for the Captivity challenge at spnflashfic, which came and went without this story being finished but which might explain its brevity.
Many thanks to dawnie1970 for the beta! *Smooch*

967 words, Dean/Sam.

Lock Jaw
by WesleysGirl

"We are not doing this," Dean said, which was pretty funny considering he had his face pressed to Sam's neck, his breath coming in hot pants as Sam jacked him slow and easy.

Sam licked the edge of Dean's ear and grinned. "We're not?"

"No," Dean said between gasps. "No way. This isn't -- we're not -- we can't --" And then he came, shuddering and groaning, warm fluid slicking Sam's stomach.

Afterward, he got up and went into the bathroom without a word, shutting the door and locking it with a *click* that sounded way more final than Sam knew it actually was. It'd been the same every time they'd had sex -- Dean would deny it all the way through, then leave immediately after so they couldn't talk about it, like if they didn't talk he could keep pretending nothing was happening. Always the same.

Except for now, when, ten minutes later, the door handle jiggled, then again, then a third time, more emphatically.

"Dean?" Sam asked from his sprawl across the bed. The ceiling was stained and cracked; he hated these cheap motels, he really did.

"Door's stuck," Dean said from the other side of it.

Sam sat up and looked at it thoughtfully. "Are you sure?"

The door rattled in its frame, the handle shaking with the force of Dean's attempt. "Pretty sure."

"Did you unlock it?" Sam asked.

He could practically see Dean's eyes rolling upward. "Gee, no, that never occurred to me. Thank God for you and your college education. Of course I unlocked it, what do you think I am, an idiot?"

That sounded a lot more stressed out than the circumstances warranted. Sam found himself smiling a not-particularly-nice smile; not because Dean was stressed out, but because Dean was stuck. "Wow," he said. "I'm really sorry."

Dean growled on the other side of the door. "Yeah, you sound it. Get a screwdriver or something and take off this handle."

"I don't think so," Sam said.

"Don't be an asshole," Dean told him.

"You're the one that's been being an asshole," Sam pointed out. "How many times have you gotten off and then left me high and dry?"

The door rattled again, so fiercely that the frame protested, but didn't give. "We're not doing this," Dean said.

Sam sighed. "So you've been telling me. Only we are. You can say we're not until the cows come home --"

"That's a stupid saying," Dean interrupted him.

"-- but that doesn't change the facts," Sam said. "We're fucking, Dean." Part of him hated to use the crude word for it, but it seemed like maybe it was what Dean needed to hear. Bad enough to have to admit to it at all -- having Sam call it 'making love' would probably push him over the edge.

"We're not," Dean said roughly. "Shut up, would you?"

"Are you kidding? You've been avoiding this argument for weeks; at least now you can't run out on me." Sam was standing at the door now.

"I'm telling you, Sam, we're not having this conversation," Dean growled.

"Why? Because that way you can keep pretending everything's the way it used to be? It's not, Dean. And that's okay."

There was a solid, startling thump at the door as Dean slammed his shoulder against it, then muttered obscenities under his breath when the door held.

"You'd really rather dislocate your shoulder than talk about this, wouldn't you," Sam said, not sure why there was such disbelief in his voice.

"Pretty much," Dean said, and threw himself against the door again.

Following some instinct he couldn't have explained, Sam reached out and turned the doorknob. It resisted, then something in the mechanism clicked and the door opened.

Dean looked at him, flushed, one hand wrapped around the opposite shoulder. "You couldn't have done that five minutes ago?"

"Guess not."

"Just drop it, Sam," Dean said, not looking at him.

Sam waited until Dean's eyes lifted and met his, then said, gently, "I can't. It's important."

"Talking about it isn't going to change anything." Dean's hand tightened on his own shoulder, fingers dimpling the skin, and Sam realized they were both standing there naked.

"Neither is not talking about it," Sam said. "This is us, Dean. It's our reality. And I understand that it's not -- normal, or whatever it is you're hung up on, but since when were we ever normal?"

"This would have killed Dad, if he'd known," Dean said, voice cracking. He steadfastly refused to look at Sam, his eyes suspiciously wet. "You know it would have."

"That's not the point," Sam told him. "What matters is that we're -- that we're happy, and we're not hurting anyone."

"It's wrong," Dean insisted.

"And you think it's right that Mom was killed by a demon when we were just little kids? That we didn't get to grow up in some nice suburb with a manicured lawn and a pool and two parents?" Sam could hear his own voice rising, threatening to break. "That was fucked up, Dean, and you know it. We're doing the best we can, and --" His vision blurred, his hands were shaking. "I need you with me on this. Don't leave me alone to deal with it, Dean, because I can't --"

Dean's arms were around him suddenly, bare flesh pressed to his. "You're not," Dean said fiercely. "You're not alone, you idiot."

"I am if you leave every time, after we --" Sam tried, but Dean kissed him to cut him off, short and hard.

"Then I won't, okay?" Dean's eyes studied his, one of Dean's hands on either side of his face. "I won't leave."

Sam wanted to ask Dean to promise, but he knew it wasn't necessary; if Dean said it like that, he meant it. "Okay. Okay." His mouth was on Dean's then, kissing, and as they stumbled their way back to the bed, he couldn't think anything but he's staying and finally and yes.


End

Comments

[dawnie1970.livejournal.com]

Woot! As I told you before, I really adore this ficlet. ♥ Good stuff bb! *smooches back*

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you! And thank you so much for your help! *Hugs*

[essene.livejournal.com]

*clappy hands*

This is EXACTLY how it would happen. EXACTLY.

You're freakin' brilliant you are.

And hot. Even though it wasn't rife with sex, it was just enough mixed with all that brotherly emotion and tension that the whole thing was hot.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Part of me wanted to write it as a much, much longer story, but then I realized that if I decided to do that it was never going to get written at all, LOL, so I stuck with short and simple. *Smooch*

[wolfshark]

Awwww, poor Sam! *smacks Dean for being dumb*

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

*Grin* Thanks!

[kelly-girl.livejournal.com]

Ha! I love Dean being forced to talk about this thing because he can't get out of the bathroom. I can see him trying windowsills that have been painted shut since the motel was built.

Loved Sam's persistence, and Dean finally facing facts.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :-)

[tinx_r]

Hey, that's really nice :) Thanks!

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you!!! :-)

[luvxander.livejournal.com]

*whimper*

This was really good. Hot and emotional and just spot on. It was almost like watching it happen right in front of you.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you! *Hugs*