Fantasy Wincest - Sam x Dean Winchester

[cannedsoup]

The louder Dean got, the more Sam could feel himself tensing up. Dean's anger was building and all Sam was doing was prodding at it, keeping that anger aflame.

When Dean suddenly threw his flask, Sam flinched lightly as it hit the wall, his eyes snapping over to where the flask landed before landing back on Dean as the man yelled at him. Sam's expression had turned back into an unreadable one at his brother's words, fists clenching as he stumbled backwards under Dean's rough touch.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, to raise his own voice at his brother and to demand to know why Dean seemed to suddenly dislike him so much. But instead, Sam just closed his mouth and nodded his head, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring as he held back his own anger. Yelling back at Dean wouldn't help, things would only escalate further.

This whole situation was a mess and Sam wanted it to stop and work it out with his brother. Trying to talk to Dean about certain things was rough in general, with how Dean refused to talk about his feelings. But right now, with how hostile and upset Dean currently was, it only made it harder.

Sam was still willing to try though.

"... We both know that you running off like this isn't going to solve anything." Sam finally settled on saying after a moment of silence, his tone softer than from it previously had been but it still held a certain firmness behind it. "I'm willing to work whatever this is out, Dean."

 

[lonelycycle]

There was a brief moment where Dean wished his younger brother wasn't the type to fix problems, instead of running away from them. He cruelly cursed underneath his breath, watching as the problem escalated and having no real reason to stop it from doing so. Sam, bless his heart, was always the quicker thinker— the man that barely caved under his problems and instead, attempted to fix them. It was the rare situation that he would give up all together, and unfortunately, that was exactly what Dean wanted from him.

Dean wanted something, anything to show himself that Sam wasn't interested in him. He wanted him to lose control— wanted the punch he would throw to knock him off his feet, because maybe, that would give Dean enough to prove to himself that his own brother wasn't trying to snap Dean like a damned pencil, in the way those glorious hips moved, the way his anger was suddenly crashing into the eldest Winchester's jeans. It only made him angrier.

But, he grabbed his keys off his own motel bed and grasped them tightly in a closed fist. "Don't wait up," He responded softly, much to the aggression in his tone. "In fact, try not to be here at all,"

When he moved towards the door he walked into only a few moments previous, he made sure to connect his shoulder with Sam's. Was he being too harsh? Surely not. What his brother was doing couldn't be anything less than... cruel. He didn't know how long he'd be, but he knew he'd find some women to take his mind off things.

 

[cannedsoup]

Sam's face hardened at Dean's comment, only giving a barely there nod as indicator that he had heard what the older man had said. He truly hated this, hating that he felt as if he missed something so important that it completely changed Dean's behavior towards him. Dean, the only person who's been there for him since he was a baby, who's always seemed to prefer to have Sam at his side, much to Sam's annoyance at certain times. Dean, the only person that Sam could really count on. Sam wanted to fix this, fix whatever this was, whatever he was apparently doing to drive Dean into hating him.

As Dean shoulder checked him, Sam let out a grunt and backed away, watching as the man continued towards the door. Dean hadn't even been here for an hour and he was already leaving, running away from whatever the hell was happening here, from Sam. Letting out a little huff, Sam looked away and sat down on the end of the bed, pursing his lips and rubbing his hands on his jean clad thighs. At least he's knows something and that he himself was the problem here apparently. He couldn't fix it if Dean didn't tell him why.

Sam spared his brother another glance, thinking about what to say but nothing seemed appropriate right now. Dean would more than likely either ignore him or go back to yelling if he did end up saying something. He couldn't stop Dean either. It was frustrating seeing his big brother act like this and to be the problem why. He just hoped that they will be able to work things out, that Dean would cave and actually talk to him without yelling or hostility.

 

[lonelycycle]

Dean spent the entire night sulking against a barstool, downing Scotch whenever it was offered, and spending the rest of the physical cash he had on him. He couldn't get himself to stop thinking about his younger brother or his smile, the way his teeth perfectly mimicked an ivory white, or the way his eyes crinkled just slightly afterwards. Closing his eyes as another shot burned the sensitive flesh of his throat, he lowered the glass back to the table and gave the bartender the last bit of money he had in his wallet as a tip.

"You sure you don't wanna come back to my place?" A young women asked softly, pressing her hand against his biscep and flashing a flirtatious smile. Her lips were, previously, pressed against his neck and red lipstick covered three different spots on his skin. After awhile, he had rudely began to ignore her, his thoughts of Sam only coming back to haunt him. Great, can't even get laid without thinking of him.

"As much as I want to, I can't," Dean hastily replied as he pulled himself off of the barstool and grabbed the jacket he wore hours prior. Scribbling his number on a napkin, he handed it to her before he turned and began walking out of the bar. Now that he was drunk, he'd be able to handle this situation a little better.

Boy, was he wrong there.

From the very moment Dean slammed the front door of the motel as he entered, he was hostile. Quietly grumbling curses towards the youngest Winchester, angry tossing his jacket to the side of the room, and promptly refusing to even look at his brother. He couldn't think straight.

 

[cannedsoup]

The door slamming open and then being shut had startled Sam, his hazel eyes jumping up and onto his brother as the older man tossed his jacket to the side. Sam was once again seated at the kitchen table with his laptop in front of him, a pad of paper beside him and a little container of chicken salad that he hadn't even touched, too busy trying to think about what he had done wrong and trying not to fall asleep.

While Dean was out drinking, Sam had buried himself into his research before he got too wound up with what was going on between him and his brother. To try and clear his mind, Sam had gone on a walk around the small town and had gotten some food, though now it's pretty much gone to waste at this point. But while on his walk, Sam had tried his best to remember how he and Dean had acted towards each other in the last few weeks, trying to remember if he had actually done something that upset his brother.

It was pretty obvious that his brother was still stuck in that horrible, angry mood. Honestly, it seemed a bit worse than before. Now Dean wasn't even bothering to look at him. Sighing through his nose, Sam went back to staring at the blank screen of his laptop and dragged a hand through his hair. Even though he wanted nothing more than to sit Dean down and talk with him, he knew that now wasn't the time for that. His best bet was leaving his brother alone until at least tomorrow or when he when at last cooled down a bit.

 

[lonelycycle]

Dean swallowed, the faint sting of an alcohol-raw throat making a low grunt pass through his mouth. The last voice he wanted to hear right now was Sam's, but his own echoed throughout their small hotel room in all of it's glory. "Sam," He acknowledged, the slur over the words evident once he managed to get the name correct. It had been... awhile since the eldest Winchester had gotten this plastered.

He crossed the room, towards the mirror that pressed tightly against the near side of the motel, visibly grimacing at the sight before him. His hair was wrecked, no doubt from the women that was all over him in the bar, and lipstick covered practically half of his neck. He rolled his eyes, finding the nearest pair of dirty clothing and wiping the soft shade off of his skin.

He glanced at his brother from inside the mirror, attempting to catch a glimpse slyly. He sighed to himself, throwing the clothing piece on the floor. He was looking to pick a fight, it was obvious by the way his tone greeted his brother only moments prior. Maybe, he just needed the attention. Maybe, he wanted the attention.

 

[cannedsoup]

Sam had looked up and at his brother when Dean had slurred out his name, a slight frown settling on his lips at the tone of it. He had watched Dean make his way over to the mirror, watching as the older man wiped away what he assumed was lipstick.

Sometimes Sam wished Dean dealt with things differently instead of drinking and losing himself with women. Having Dean come back like this reminded Sam a bit of their father with how often John would go out and drink to forget about things. He didn't want that for his brother.

Looking away from Dean, Sam rubbed a hand over his face before moving to power down his laptop, closing the lid of it. The younger man pushed himself out of chair and stretched with a sigh. He was tired, ready to get to bed. He had tried to earlier but the thought of his brother driving off and not returning made him want to stay up till Dean got back. He knew that Dean wouldn't just leave him in the dust, not really. But a part of him thought otherwise, claiming that Dean was gonna leave his ass behind if his previous words were anything to go by.

".... How was the bar?" Sam found himself asking after a few mintues of silence, tossing his uneaten food into the trash before looking over at Dean again, watching him in the mirror. He was trying to break the ice a little bit, trying to see where he currently stood with Dean.