Title: Fundamentally Altered, 1/5
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester
Rating: NC-17 overall
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Putative Wincest (will become graphic in later chapters).
Summary: Repeated near-death experience would affect us all.
Notes: Written for stagesoflove 2006, Round 2, 'Five Stages of Sexual Arousal', challenge #1 - Desire.
Also posted here.
It's amazing what prolonged, repeated near-death experience can do to a man's (or men's, or even women's, come to think of it) sense of right and wrong, to his morality. The urge to grab and cling, to hold and shelter, doesn't go away, in fact, it intensifies. The need to touch and feel and reassure yourself that you're alive, he's alive, still alive and whole and breathing, well, it changes things. Fundamental things.
Each morning, when you wake, your first instinct is to turn and just make sure that he's still there, still here, with you. But, eventually, that's not enough. You need to touch that out-stretched hand that dangles off the bed, always has and probably always will - he's so predictable.
So, you nudge your bed an inch or two closer, just so you can spread the map out properly on the floor. You wake as soon as dawn sends fragile beams of dusty sunlight sliding under through between the curtains. You reach out, slow and hesitant, and graze those callused fingertips with your own, and that's enough, for now.
And then it's not.
The next time you're down to one last silver bullet, flaming arrow, squirt of holy water, and you both survive to tell the tale, it's automatic to reach out and reel him in. You only realise what you've done when it's too late, when lips have bumped and slid and locked and hands have clenched and legs have tangled.
Too late? Or not nearly soon enough?