(no subject)
The guy in the suit was nervous, but hopeful.
The hot guy in leather jacket, tilted his head with a shrug, and said "I'm straight" with a cocky smile on his lips.
The other guy looked down, disappointed, but when he looked up, the hot guy hadn't looked away, and that smile on his lips that definately wasn't a 'no'.
The hot guy had finished pissing, but he hadn't put his dick away, he was just standing there, holding it, staring at him, then licked his lower lip slightly.
The businessman looked away nervously, then looked up and said stutteringly, "50 bucks?".
The hot guy grinned wide, and stroked his dick. "Sure. What do you want?"
*****
Sam was sitting on his motel bed when Dean got back.
He looked up, but doesn't quite meet Dean's eyes. Tendons in his arms tense and relax. Oh, he's *pissed*.
"You were gone awhile"
"So?"
"It shouldn't take you that long to get to the (grocery?) and back."
"Yeah, well
There's a moment when he think's Sam's actually going to say something but it passes, and Sam looks away.
/He thinks Sam's going to drop it,/ and goes to put stuff on his bed, but when he turns around, Sams stood up, in his space, and glaring at him.
"What the *fuck* have you been up to?"
And he glances at the floor again, blushing and angry. Freudian slip, much?
Dean just stares at him.
Sam knows. It's not just a guess, he obviously knows, and he's pissed, and obviously embarassed, and his lips are twisting like he's disgusted, and - that's probably because he *is*... Sam's disgusted and ashamed of him, riding on his fucking high horse again, and this should be harder, but after Sam's constant bitching about gambling and hustling pool, he's starting to get a little inured to the moral outrage, so instead of the guilt he's been expecting, he just feels angry.
He licks his lip a little ostentatiously, and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Sam looks away, not at the floor, but hard left, jaw tightening with rage.
He twists his lips into a smirk, "That's really none of your business, don't you think?".
"How could you..." Sam took a deep, shuddering breath, a look of distaste on his face.
Dean felt the anger well up again. "You're not my keeper / whatever / I'm going out."
He fished the 50 bucks out of his wallet. "I'm going out. / Get yourself some dinner."
And threw it on the bed, before turning and walking out the door.
The last thing he saw leaving, was Sam sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the floor.
So, problems - he looked up, he looked down, he looked up, he looked down. Kinda sucks. But it seems important to how I visualise the scene, so I don't know what to do about it.
And still. Dean hustling. It really deserves some more attention.
Oh, and can I point out, Sam isn't really being a prick, but - unreliable narrator and all that. Heh. And mmm, would be so easy to play the jealousy card.
The hot guy in leather jacket, tilted his head with a shrug, and said "I'm straight" with a cocky smile on his lips.
The other guy looked down, disappointed, but when he looked up, the hot guy hadn't looked away, and that smile on his lips that definately wasn't a 'no'.
The hot guy had finished pissing, but he hadn't put his dick away, he was just standing there, holding it, staring at him, then licked his lower lip slightly.
The businessman looked away nervously, then looked up and said stutteringly, "50 bucks?".
The hot guy grinned wide, and stroked his dick. "Sure. What do you want?"
*****
Sam was sitting on his motel bed when Dean got back.
He looked up, but doesn't quite meet Dean's eyes. Tendons in his arms tense and relax. Oh, he's *pissed*.
"You were gone awhile"
"So?"
"It shouldn't take you that long to get to the (grocery?) and back."
"Yeah, well
There's a moment when he think's Sam's actually going to say something but it passes, and Sam looks away.
/He thinks Sam's going to drop it,/ and goes to put stuff on his bed, but when he turns around, Sams stood up, in his space, and glaring at him.
"What the *fuck* have you been up to?"
And he glances at the floor again, blushing and angry. Freudian slip, much?
Dean just stares at him.
Sam knows. It's not just a guess, he obviously knows, and he's pissed, and obviously embarassed, and his lips are twisting like he's disgusted, and - that's probably because he *is*... Sam's disgusted and ashamed of him, riding on his fucking high horse again, and this should be harder, but after Sam's constant bitching about gambling and hustling pool, he's starting to get a little inured to the moral outrage, so instead of the guilt he's been expecting, he just feels angry.
He licks his lip a little ostentatiously, and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Sam looks away, not at the floor, but hard left, jaw tightening with rage.
He twists his lips into a smirk, "That's really none of your business, don't you think?".
"How could you..." Sam took a deep, shuddering breath, a look of distaste on his face.
Dean felt the anger well up again. "You're not my keeper / whatever / I'm going out."
He fished the 50 bucks out of his wallet. "I'm going out. / Get yourself some dinner."
And threw it on the bed, before turning and walking out the door.
The last thing he saw leaving, was Sam sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the floor.
So, problems - he looked up, he looked down, he looked up, he looked down. Kinda sucks. But it seems important to how I visualise the scene, so I don't know what to do about it.
And still. Dean hustling. It really deserves some more attention.
Oh, and can I point out, Sam isn't really being a prick, but - unreliable narrator and all that. Heh. And mmm, would be so easy to play the jealousy card.