lonelycycle
descriptive writer, actually super lazy
Dean Winchester has never been the type for reading other people, what with the hundreds of different emotions and expressions just one human can have. Sam Winchester isn't an exception to this, not really, because his younger brother is the King of Shields— and if you've ever tried to read stone-faced, inexpressive-voiced, and calculating eyes, you'd fucking understand Dean's trouble. But, that doesn't mean the man doesn't try. He tries to pull that cold exterior off and expose his pyschologically damaged interior, perhaps learn him like the back of his own hand, but he can't. And the problem is, the more he fixates himself on his young brother, the more he begins to falsely notice signs of seduction. Sam, much to the other male's dismay and beyond his own control, begins to display certain actions that drive Dean's sanity right off the nearest cliff. Just plunges straight into the river of arousal below. Sam drops something on purpose, bending down slowly and carefully, and perhaps Dean didn't catch the hint of how sore Sam might have been after a hunt. He touches Dean's bicep, finds every excuse in the book to brush their toned bodies together, but maybe Dean doesn't understand that the hotel room they're crammed inside is smaller than his own patience. Maybe, Dean Winchester should stop himself while he's ahead, quit attempting to read the signs altogether, perhaps he should look away from Sam's lips as he speaks, and he should definitely stop leaning in—
*Where as Dean misreads Sam's feelings and ends up kissing him, fucking up literally everything* any takers?
*Where as Dean misreads Sam's feelings and ends up kissing him, fucking up literally everything* any takers?