The plane dips slightly then, little stomach-shivering moment of weightlessness, and the seatbelt signs ping on. Dean makes a strangled sort of noise that might in other circumstances be hilarious, but Sam bites back any sort of reaction that would get him cut off for days - or at least until Dean got bored of his own hand - and rubs Dean's back soothingly again. The plane shudders some more and Dean moans sort of helplessly, flinching and cowering towards Sam, and Sam gives into his protective instinct and the hopeless urge to comfort and try to fix things by tugging Dean into his side, close as he can get with the armrest in the way, and Dean presses his face gratifyingly into Sam's chest.
The guy across the aisle shoots them another glare and clears his throat pointedly, and Sam levels a flat stare at him, wondering if his urge to kick this guy really hard in the balls is coming across.
The plane settles down into a smooth journey, and Dean relaxes a fraction but doesn't move, though he sighs sort of resignedly.
"Yeah," he mumbles, "okay, this is pretty gay."
Sam makes a hmmming noise. "I don't know," he says, "think we can be gayer. If we're gonna get glared at for it anyway." He wriggles down in his seat slightly, Dean flinching and clutching with each movement, until he can bend his head to Dean's ear and press a little kiss to the skin just under, slightly damp with nervous sweat. He touches his tongue out lightly and finally feels Dean shudder at something that isn't the swaying of the plane. "See, getting gayer," he says, lips brushing over Dean's ear, before he takes Dean's earlobe between his teeth and worries it a little, sucking gently. His hand caresses Dean's back and shoulder again, but less soothing and more sensual, and he feels Dean relax in stages against him, hand still gripping Sam's shirt but not quite so desperately.
Sam pulls back a little, and nudge Dean's nose with his own when Dean turns to look at him. "Now that was the gayest thing so far," Dean says, but he's kind of smiling a little bit and slumped against Sam. "Just so we're clear, this plane is like Vegas."
"Mmm?"
"What happens here, stays the fuck here."
And with that Dean lets out a huge sigh, like all the freaking out had exhausted him, and shoots a suspicious look around the plane, though Sam doesn't know if he's daring people to look at him judgmentally or daring the plane to shudder again. Either way, Dean seems satisfied, because a few minutes later he's snoring on Sam's shoulder.
He glances across the aisle and sees the wife of the Judgy Guy swallowing down a Valium, and a few minutes looks back to see her slumped over the armrest onto her husband's shoulder, mouth slightly open as she also snores.
Dean's warm and sleeping peacefully on his shoulder, and Sam feels happy and charitable, so he gives the guy a grin, sort of conspiratorial man, what we have to up with, eh?, and grins even harder when the guy gives him a confused half-smile in return.
Sam closes his eyes and tilts his head to rest his cheek on Dean's hair. He wonders how far he'll have to go distract Dean when it comes to landing. He goes to sleep with a little smile on his face.
Sam/Dean, somebody mistaking Sam and Dean as a couple on an airplane... 2
The guy across the aisle shoots them another glare and clears his throat pointedly, and Sam levels a flat stare at him, wondering if his urge to kick this guy really hard in the balls is coming across.
The plane settles down into a smooth journey, and Dean relaxes a fraction but doesn't move, though he sighs sort of resignedly.
"Yeah," he mumbles, "okay, this is pretty gay."
Sam makes a hmmming noise. "I don't know," he says, "think we can be gayer. If we're gonna get glared at for it anyway." He wriggles down in his seat slightly, Dean flinching and clutching with each movement, until he can bend his head to Dean's ear and press a little kiss to the skin just under, slightly damp with nervous sweat. He touches his tongue out lightly and finally feels Dean shudder at something that isn't the swaying of the plane. "See, getting gayer," he says, lips brushing over Dean's ear, before he takes Dean's earlobe between his teeth and worries it a little, sucking gently. His hand caresses Dean's back and shoulder again, but less soothing and more sensual, and he feels Dean relax in stages against him, hand still gripping Sam's shirt but not quite so desperately.
Sam pulls back a little, and nudge Dean's nose with his own when Dean turns to look at him. "Now that was the gayest thing so far," Dean says, but he's kind of smiling a little bit and slumped against Sam. "Just so we're clear, this plane is like Vegas."
"Mmm?"
"What happens here, stays the fuck here."
And with that Dean lets out a huge sigh, like all the freaking out had exhausted him, and shoots a suspicious look around the plane, though Sam doesn't know if he's daring people to look at him judgmentally or daring the plane to shudder again. Either way, Dean seems satisfied, because a few minutes later he's snoring on Sam's shoulder.
He glances across the aisle and sees the wife of the Judgy Guy swallowing down a Valium, and a few minutes looks back to see her slumped over the armrest onto her husband's shoulder, mouth slightly open as she also snores.
Dean's warm and sleeping peacefully on his shoulder, and Sam feels happy and charitable, so he gives the guy a grin, sort of conspiratorial man, what we have to up with, eh?, and grins even harder when the guy gives him a confused half-smile in return.
Sam closes his eyes and tilts his head to rest his cheek on Dean's hair. He wonders how far he'll have to go distract Dean when it comes to landing. He goes to sleep with a little smile on his face.