Another very important fic.
First of all, let me just say that I have turned OFF IP logging on my journal for logged in commenters. It is still on for anonymous commenting.
Seriously, though, LJ, what a terrible, terrible idea.
So as you may be aware, the theme this week at spn_las is "fix it fic". I wrote a srs bsns fic that is now up there (can you guess which one is mine?), but here's the alternate one I was thinking of writing.
I ~~dedicate~~ this fic to probing_grays.
"Damn, it's hot today," Dean said. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The windows of the Impala were all down, since of course it didn't have A/C.
"I know," Sam agreed. A trickle of sweat rolled down his neck. It was all sexy.
"Why are we wearing like, eighteen layers of clothing, then?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged.
"It's just our look, you know? Michael Jackson had his left glove, Elvis had the jumpsuits, we have way too many layers of clothing."
"Fuck it," Dean said. "I'm going to be free, Sam. FREE I TELL YOU." And he pulled the car over to the shoulder and in one smooth motion, pulled his several layers of clothing over his head and tossed them in the back seat.
"Oh my gosh!" Sam exclaimed.
"This is AWESOME," Dean said happily.
Sam looked enviously at him for a moment before giving into peer pressure. He unzipped his jacket, pulled off his plaid flannel, and then tugged his henley, t-shirt, and undershirt over his head.
"I feel like a whole new person!" Sam exclaimed. Except still with the same rockin abs.
"I'm never wearing a shirt again!" Dean enthused.
"Me neither!" Sam said happily.
And then they drove off. To a nudist beach. Where they killed some demon or something, who cares, they were NAKED.
Seriously, though, LJ, what a terrible, terrible idea.
So as you may be aware, the theme this week at spn_las is "fix it fic". I wrote a srs bsns fic that is now up there (can you guess which one is mine?), but here's the alternate one I was thinking of writing.
I ~~dedicate~~ this fic to probing_grays.
"Damn, it's hot today," Dean said. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The windows of the Impala were all down, since of course it didn't have A/C.
"I know," Sam agreed. A trickle of sweat rolled down his neck. It was all sexy.
"Why are we wearing like, eighteen layers of clothing, then?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged.
"It's just our look, you know? Michael Jackson had his left glove, Elvis had the jumpsuits, we have way too many layers of clothing."
"Fuck it," Dean said. "I'm going to be free, Sam. FREE I TELL YOU." And he pulled the car over to the shoulder and in one smooth motion, pulled his several layers of clothing over his head and tossed them in the back seat.
"Oh my gosh!" Sam exclaimed.
"This is AWESOME," Dean said happily.
Sam looked enviously at him for a moment before giving into peer pressure. He unzipped his jacket, pulled off his plaid flannel, and then tugged his henley, t-shirt, and undershirt over his head.
"I feel like a whole new person!" Sam exclaimed. Except still with the same rockin abs.
"I'm never wearing a shirt again!" Dean enthused.
"Me neither!" Sam said happily.
And then they drove off. To a nudist beach. Where they killed some demon or something, who cares, they were NAKED.