(clap hands,
daddy comes with a pocket
full of plums, don't cry)

for dean and sam winchester at twelve and sixteen.

sam is a mess of giddy growth spurts and a sharp edged love for his brother. he's golden and open and sweet as dime-store candy, light pushing out of skin like he's something holy. he's littleboy soft and he smells like soap and salt and dean is sick-to-his-stomach-guilty with how much he needs him.

17 tracks