Pan · @pan_pandeus
28th Aug 2010 from Twitlonger
For @popculturediva for the twitfic exchange. 'Sam/Gabriel, dancing' was the prompt. Apologies in advance for any wibbles.
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There's no band, no stereo or cd player, but music fills the room. The wide, cavernous ballroom, with pale yellow walls and gleaming floor and soft lights.
They're alone, but that's hardly new and he doesn't think anything of it. Just closes his eyes and lets the music take his body and bend it, sway it to the beat.
The steps are easy, familiar like they've done this thousands of times before, exactly like this. Maybe they have; he doesn't claim to remember each of these times and maybe they have been here before, dancing this way to this music in this place.
"Changeover," a voice says in his ear and he nods minutely, letting the music and his motions build up to the climax and then pause, frozen for an instant in time, before relinquishing the lead to his partner. Then they're off again, whirling and stepping across the pale floor and he smiles, takes a breath of mint and sugar.
When the music finally fades and they drift to a stop, he keeps his eyes closed. It's always easier, he's found, if he never sees the face of his partner. Never gets that reminder, that sharp pain of might-have-been and never-can-be.
"Time to wake up, kiddo," the voice says, still by his ear and soft and gentle. He nods, but doesn't let go, not just yet.
He's not sure he'll ever learn how to let go, even a bit.
And when he blinks his eyes and scowls at the bright morning sun and at his brother as they get ready for another day on the road, he doesn't think he'll ever want to.