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blue_bells» Title: Eyes Forward
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Mild spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Sam/Lucifer, Bobby
» Summary: Sam's dream takes them to university for a change of scenery.
» A/N: Written here for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sandrine in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic.
Sam looks up from his history text on first century imperialist theory and finds himself seated at the back of a familiar lecture theatre.
He sees rows of students hued in greys, soft yellows and blues sitting at doe-eyed attention to their lecturer's seminar. Sam realises that it's Bobby pacing up there in his flannel and denim, and Sam's the only one with a book in front of him.
It doesn't even strike as odd that Bobby's on two feet again.
It doesn't quite process that he can't discern a word of what Bobby's saying, but he knows that it's important. He feels the urgency of Bobby's message thrum under his skin, indistinct, and he thinks that somewhere in himself he already knows the words.
Nobody is taking notes. Sam wonders if they're really listening, staring at Bobby with soft smiles.
"This is nice."
'For a change', Sam hears in Lucifer's tone as the angel folds his arms in the seat beside him. He has to admit that's he's glad for the change from motel wallpaper as well.
"... I haven't thought of this place in a long time," Sam murmurs, staring at the ceiling. There are several bulbs missing from the light fixtures.
"You were missing it," Lucifer suggests, turning the page of Sam's textbook.
"Yeah. Maybe," Sam shakes his head and looks out the window. He can see a mixed team in uniform practicing their soccer drills on the field. It's shockingly green out there. "We miss a lot of things."
The students have disappeared from the lecture theatre.
Bobby's standing by the tall paned windows, hands in the pockets of his loose denim jeans. His face is pinched as he squints into the sunshine.
Sam looks at his hands when the textbook slides back to him across the desk. His jaw tightens as Lucifer presses against his thigh, thick heat radiating through his clothes, and Sam's become so familiar to this he almost feels guilty that he's lost the instinct to jump up and walk away. Lucifer hooks Sam's ankle, leaning in, and he gently tugs until Sam sighs, slumps back, allowing himself to be pulled.
Lucifer follows Sam's gaze to Bobby, standing tall by the window. "Why do you keep doing this, Sam?"
Lucifer's chest is almost flush against his shoulder, Sam shifts in his seat as Lucifer's arms bracket him between the back rest and desk.
Sam shakes his head slowly, he doesn't want to start this again. "Don't --"
"These dreams are dead, there's no hope here. But this is real. The Apocalypse will be waiting when you wake up. When you say 'yes' we're going to find God who let it get so bad. And I'll let you ask him anything you want."
Sam looks at him sharply, catches himself too late. He shouldn't be surprised, really, temptation is Lucifer's trade. Not even considering if Lucifer would have the power or inclination to enforce that promise when the time came, Sam can't smother the flare in his gut. If this was all by grand design he wants to tear down that tapestry and shout in the face of the one who made it. He wants to prove them all wrong, he wants to be good, he wants campus life, he wants his family whole and happy and he wants it so badly that it burns like he hasn't eaten in months.
"It's better when you don't talk at all," Sam says, tightly.
Lucifer stops and draws back; Sam swears he's not going to have any reaction to that. He grits his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek when Lucifer gently squeezes his shoulder.
"Stop looking over your shoulder," Lucifer says and the hand moves to the back of Sam's neck. "Stop mourning."
There's a tightness in Sam's throat when Lucifer's fingers snake into his hair, because the sensation is firm, familiar and... comforting. He wishes he was still afraid.
"I'm here," Lucifer's fingers are gentle as he turns Sam's jaw and his thumb strokes his cheek. "So just look at me."
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Mild spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Sam/Lucifer, Bobby
» Summary: Sam's dream takes them to university for a change of scenery.
» A/N: Written here for
sandrine in comment_fic. Sam looks up from his history text on first century imperialist theory and finds himself seated at the back of a familiar lecture theatre.
He sees rows of students hued in greys, soft yellows and blues sitting at doe-eyed attention to their lecturer's seminar. Sam realises that it's Bobby pacing up there in his flannel and denim, and Sam's the only one with a book in front of him.
It doesn't even strike as odd that Bobby's on two feet again.
It doesn't quite process that he can't discern a word of what Bobby's saying, but he knows that it's important. He feels the urgency of Bobby's message thrum under his skin, indistinct, and he thinks that somewhere in himself he already knows the words.
Nobody is taking notes. Sam wonders if they're really listening, staring at Bobby with soft smiles.
"This is nice."
'For a change', Sam hears in Lucifer's tone as the angel folds his arms in the seat beside him. He has to admit that's he's glad for the change from motel wallpaper as well.
"... I haven't thought of this place in a long time," Sam murmurs, staring at the ceiling. There are several bulbs missing from the light fixtures.
"You were missing it," Lucifer suggests, turning the page of Sam's textbook.
"Yeah. Maybe," Sam shakes his head and looks out the window. He can see a mixed team in uniform practicing their soccer drills on the field. It's shockingly green out there. "We miss a lot of things."
The students have disappeared from the lecture theatre.
Bobby's standing by the tall paned windows, hands in the pockets of his loose denim jeans. His face is pinched as he squints into the sunshine.
Sam looks at his hands when the textbook slides back to him across the desk. His jaw tightens as Lucifer presses against his thigh, thick heat radiating through his clothes, and Sam's become so familiar to this he almost feels guilty that he's lost the instinct to jump up and walk away. Lucifer hooks Sam's ankle, leaning in, and he gently tugs until Sam sighs, slumps back, allowing himself to be pulled.
Lucifer follows Sam's gaze to Bobby, standing tall by the window. "Why do you keep doing this, Sam?"
Lucifer's chest is almost flush against his shoulder, Sam shifts in his seat as Lucifer's arms bracket him between the back rest and desk.
Sam shakes his head slowly, he doesn't want to start this again. "Don't --"
"These dreams are dead, there's no hope here. But this is real. The Apocalypse will be waiting when you wake up. When you say 'yes' we're going to find God who let it get so bad. And I'll let you ask him anything you want."
Sam looks at him sharply, catches himself too late. He shouldn't be surprised, really, temptation is Lucifer's trade. Not even considering if Lucifer would have the power or inclination to enforce that promise when the time came, Sam can't smother the flare in his gut. If this was all by grand design he wants to tear down that tapestry and shout in the face of the one who made it. He wants to prove them all wrong, he wants to be good, he wants campus life, he wants his family whole and happy and he wants it so badly that it burns like he hasn't eaten in months.
"It's better when you don't talk at all," Sam says, tightly.
Lucifer stops and draws back; Sam swears he's not going to have any reaction to that. He grits his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek when Lucifer gently squeezes his shoulder.
"Stop looking over your shoulder," Lucifer says and the hand moves to the back of Sam's neck. "Stop mourning."
There's a tightness in Sam's throat when Lucifer's fingers snake into his hair, because the sensation is firm, familiar and... comforting. He wishes he was still afraid.
"I'm here," Lucifer's fingers are gentle as he turns Sam's jaw and his thumb strokes his cheek. "So just look at me."
