Title: Longer Than the Road
Warnings: drinking, passing mention of hentai, very much unbeta'ed
Nobody writes Sam and Dean like citrusjava does. If you recall, I've recced some of their things here before, most recently the Plucky Pennywhistle slinky ficlet. Nobody writes to edges and moments and frighteningly, exhilaratingly unassuming detail like they do. And this is short, blazing slice of like in a way only the Winchesters can do.
Every tiny faceted moment of this is absolutely mesmerizing. The casual cumulation of minor detail, unassuming and unobtrusive--never sloppily symbolic or overdetermined--all of which mean everything because they mean almost nothing at all: The way Dean's eyes trace laptop screensavers like pool angles; mushy jalapeno guac sandwiches saved for later; Sam and NAPKINS, napkins fallen into puddles, and the thought, just for an instant, to save them. Buzzed, forgotten conversations and jangling unbridled almost-flights through wind; leaves in the windshield wipers; low-key lullaby Metallica (<333); and the Impala shaking, dancing in that wind.
There's such yearning to this--not in this depressive, unachievable sense, but in the way it feels to dance on the head of a pin in a windstorm, so to speak. To ride a very particular sensation right at the edges of its perceptibility, where it tingles and electrifies. (Emotional rimming?!?!)
The way Sam and Dean feel to me in this, they're (as people, and as people connected) like glass, fragile--not in the sense of tenuousness or something subject to subversion, but the kind of potent fragility you can't help but have complete and utter trust in.
There is, between them, this fragile thing that compels complete and utter trust in one another.
For those of you who aren't too hot on Sam/Dean but do like Sam+Dean, this fic is non-explicit in that regard. If you're okay with a kiss (and emotional tenors and closeness and intimacy beyond labels, heh), I really hope you check this one out. <3