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aeroport_artTitle: Conversations to No One (you) - Act II.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aeroport_art
Rating: R
Warnings: Pilot spoilers
Word Count: 507
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made, go 'way.
Notes: Frightfully un-betaed and stream-of-consciousness. Damn, these are so fun and addicting to write! I think I still want a conclusion after this part, so three acts total. What is with me and three-parters? Also, I live close enough to Palo Alto to know that yes, they really do call it Pali sometimes. Lol.
Summary: Sam, the little crazy, talks to Dean in his head. Takes place during the Stanford years, in drabble format.
Act I.
Overhead the clouds are thundering.
They’re thick grey, mottled wet cotton and hell I’ve
Lost my key.
Do you remember Dean?
Shrugging shoulders in streams of rain and
the way you held me close
You mouthed mistake when I kissed you (wet lips)
You choked and said “it’s all wrong”
You said it was wrong but this, this is so right?
Look at me, Dean
A puppet on strings playing an actor’s role:
A college boy waits at his condo for his girlfriend to return from a sorority party.
He’s lost his key. Cue soliloquy.
Shall I entertain thoughts Dean, of diamond-lit promises and things borrowed blue?
A puppet on strings playing an actor’s role
You would laugh so hard you could cry
It’s wet outside. I’m soaked to the bone and when she comes home,
I’ll crawl deep inside just to stave off the cold
-----
Were you there, Dean, oh Dean, were you there?
I dreamed of a whisper, of a cool handed slip of a fist in a glove in
Your shape
Were you there, Dean, oh please Dean, please tell me right now
Were you here?
-----
Jess tells me I ran a fever overnight.
It makes me sick the way you slither into my mind.
My life. Not yours. Mine.
-----
It isn’t something I think about anymore, Dean. It isn’t you filling my mind.
It isn’t the void of your body, your presence,
it isn’t the mute gape of your name.
It isn’t the goose bumps that trail from your memory,
it isn’t the taste that’s the same.
This is what it is, Dean.
It’s the supple soft breasts (hard scars and flesh)
it's the way S’s roll off of my tongue.
It’s her touching her clit (your limply soft dick)
it's the apple sweet high of her gloss.
(Vaseline smeared in your tight little anus and you’re scraping, you’re begging for more)
It isn’t you filling my mind anymore, it isn’t you anymore, is it.
-----
In August of autumn I found him.
His name was Adam and I was his Eve,
At least for a week night or two.
He had emerald green eyes and a crew cut so short
He would gel it and spike it in rows.
He walked with a swagger, this Adam I knew,
A swagger and denims and boots.
This Adam I found, we had a few rounds, but I swear he looked
Nothing like you.
-----
When Jess found out she asked, “why?”
I said, “Never again.”
She asked, “why?”
I said, “Because they always want to stick it up your butt.”
This is what I didn’t tell her.
Never again because they’ll fuck you and suck you, they’ll love you until you can’t breathe anymore, you can’t even breathe anymore and it’s like drowning or dying it’s something so awful because when you come out at the other end, they won’t be there with you. And then you may as well be dead, because they’re not there with you.
She nods okay.
Act III.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author:
aeroport_artRating: R
Warnings: Pilot spoilers
Word Count: 507
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made, go 'way.
Notes: Frightfully un-betaed and stream-of-consciousness. Damn, these are so fun and addicting to write! I think I still want a conclusion after this part, so three acts total. What is with me and three-parters? Also, I live close enough to Palo Alto to know that yes, they really do call it Pali sometimes. Lol.
Summary: Sam, the little crazy, talks to Dean in his head. Takes place during the Stanford years, in drabble format.
Act I.
Overhead the clouds are thundering.
They’re thick grey, mottled wet cotton and hell I’ve
Lost my key.
Do you remember Dean?
Shrugging shoulders in streams of rain and
the way you held me close
You mouthed mistake when I kissed you (wet lips)
You choked and said “it’s all wrong”
You said it was wrong but this, this is so right?
Look at me, Dean
A puppet on strings playing an actor’s role:
A college boy waits at his condo for his girlfriend to return from a sorority party.
He’s lost his key. Cue soliloquy.
Shall I entertain thoughts Dean, of diamond-lit promises and things borrowed blue?
A puppet on strings playing an actor’s role
You would laugh so hard you could cry
It’s wet outside. I’m soaked to the bone and when she comes home,
I’ll crawl deep inside just to stave off the cold
-----
Were you there, Dean, oh Dean, were you there?
I dreamed of a whisper, of a cool handed slip of a fist in a glove in
Your shape
Were you there, Dean, oh please Dean, please tell me right now
Were you here?
-----
Jess tells me I ran a fever overnight.
It makes me sick the way you slither into my mind.
My life. Not yours. Mine.
-----
It isn’t something I think about anymore, Dean. It isn’t you filling my mind.
It isn’t the void of your body, your presence,
it isn’t the mute gape of your name.
It isn’t the goose bumps that trail from your memory,
it isn’t the taste that’s the same.
This is what it is, Dean.
It’s the supple soft breasts (hard scars and flesh)
it's the way S’s roll off of my tongue.
It’s her touching her clit (your limply soft dick)
it's the apple sweet high of her gloss.
(Vaseline smeared in your tight little anus and you’re scraping, you’re begging for more)
It isn’t you filling my mind anymore, it isn’t you anymore, is it.
-----
In August of autumn I found him.
His name was Adam and I was his Eve,
At least for a week night or two.
He had emerald green eyes and a crew cut so short
He would gel it and spike it in rows.
He walked with a swagger, this Adam I knew,
A swagger and denims and boots.
This Adam I found, we had a few rounds, but I swear he looked
Nothing like you.
-----
When Jess found out she asked, “why?”
I said, “Never again.”
She asked, “why?”
I said, “Because they always want to stick it up your butt.”
This is what I didn’t tell her.
Never again because they’ll fuck you and suck you, they’ll love you until you can’t breathe anymore, you can’t even breathe anymore and it’s like drowning or dying it’s something so awful because when you come out at the other end, they won’t be there with you. And then you may as well be dead, because they’re not there with you.
She nods okay.
Act III.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 02:22 pm (UTC)I like to think Sam would still talk to Dean in his head, even after the Pilot :p
Maybe Dean talks to Sam too ?
Oh, my.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 04:23 pm (UTC)It isn’t something I think about anymore, Dean. It isn’t you filling my mind.
It isn’t the void of your body, your presence,
it isn’t the mute gape of your name.
Ah, man, i *like* this. Shivery and a little creepy and so damn lonely and angry.
Perfect stuff.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 09:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-10 06:25 am (UTC)The litany of denial here-- I love it. I love all the things that are just that aren't Dean, refuse to be Dean, because Sam's not thinking about Dean anymore, he swears it.
He walked with a swagger, this Adam I knew,
A swagger and denims and boots.
This Adam I found, we had a few rounds, but I swear he looked
Nothing like you.
So sad. Even in denying the denial, it's all still truth...
no subject
Date: 2007-01-10 07:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 03:19 am (UTC)The way Dean cuts Sam,
When it's Sam who's left Dean,
Seeking comfort in normal,
When normal was never his to have.
It's almost a blessing, when Dean comes to him,
and he leaves Jess, and finally,
normal is torn away from him,
and he's left with Dean, who never left Sam.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 03:45 am (UTC)