cianfrie
Fandoms
- Supernatural (TV 2005) (7)
- Tennis RPF (3)
- Suits (US TV 2011) (1)
Recent works
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Summary
Harvey is leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him. He’s in a short-sleeve T-shirt, and his hair falls across his temples in the most intolerably perfect way Mike has ever seen.
“I’m not a doctor, Harvey. I’m not on call twenty-four seven,” Mike grumbles, pushing his way inside before Harvey even moves to let him in.
“You’re saying you wouldn’t come if I were dying?” Harvey asks as he closes the door behind them.
Mike drops his bag on one of the stools at the kitchen counter and throws his dripping jacket on top. “Are you dying?”or
3 times Harvey is a jerk and 1 when he makes up for it.
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Summary
He still can’t find the courage to move—to slide into his side of the bed and act like a normal person, because he isn’t. He hasn’t been since Dad dumped them on the lakeshore and drove off with a promise to be back soon. Probably not even before that—probably never. It was just easier to lie to himself back then, before summer betrayed him with its blistering heat and Sam’s skin scattered all over the place. Before Sam’s eyes burned holes in his skull and his new, terrible voice started calling his name. Dean, Dean, Dean—pounding in his head like the owlsong in the trees around the lake.
or
Summer is the cruelest season of all, especially when you’re stuck spending it with nothing but your brother’s bones.
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Summary
With Dean, it’s always like this. A thousand years of waiting, then one minute to ruin everything.
So Sam saves him the trouble. He looks straight ahead and murmurs, “Brady and I were together.”
For a second, Dean’s foot lifts off the gas, and the car drifts slightly toward the center line. His arms go rigid, and the engine growls beneath them as he presses the pedal down again. He licks his lips slowly, then nods.
“Okay,” he mutters, voice controlled and smooth. -
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Summary
Sam doesn’t notice right away.
Dean is talking to the dog, the Colonel wagging his tail between them as sunlight streams sideways through the window, casting a soft glow across the surface of the table.
Sam tosses a crumpled ball of paper into the trash, and the next moment, it’s back under his nose.
He glances at Dean, but his brother is still talking. Something about a snake, a snake-man.
Sam throws it again, watches it land in the trash, and then sees Dean’s hand reach in to grab it and drop it right back on the table next to Sam.
He brought it back. Like a dog. -
Tags
Summary
He spreads it out, gives it a once-over, then flips it inside out. There’s a bold number printed on the front in blocky font, and the bottom edge is jagged like it was hacked off with the wrong kind of scissors. It’s a crop top.
Dean stares at it for another moment before glancing at Sam, who’s sitting against the wall with an open book balanced on his knees.
“I think someone left a shirt in the dryer,” Dean says.
Sam’s eyes track the line of his page before lifting to meet Dean’s. “Oh, no,” he mutters. His cheeks flush from their usual sleep-deprived gray to a soft, dusty pink. “That’s mine.”