It's Angela's birthday! yay!!
You are such an awesome person, my darling, I adore you!!! you are lovely and lively!!! *smooch*
Title: Seriously? I have nothing. Name that fic and get a cookie! Lol!
Warning: Supernatural. Sam/Dean. Spoilers for Season 2 finale and yes, going the Wincesty way.
Rating: R for lots of swearing (Dean, please, bad language) but no sexing, sorry.
Length: about 1800 words
Thanks to my friend Sue that doesn't even watch the show and helps me anyway!
This is for Angela
arabella_hope who lured me into the show. Thank you so much darling! My first Wincesty fic is all for you.
Killing the son of a bitch that ruined your life leaves you drained, or so it seems. Dean was humming from nervous energy at first, but a ridiculous two beers is all it took before he became groggy with the overwhelming need to sleep. Saying that the last days had been hard on him was a definite understatement. When Sam opened the motel door, Dean didn't even undress, only kicked his boots off, and crashed face down on the bed. Was asleep before hitting the pillow, probably.
What woke him up was an overwhelming need to piss. He felt like he was cast in lead, his limbs so heavy it was hard to move at all, and his eyelids would just not stay opened. He stumbled to the bathroom and back, took a moment to watch Sam sleeping on the other bed, breathing for god's sake, and stripped before burying under the covers. He was out for the count again.
The soft clicking sound of Sam typing fast on the laptop woke him the second time. For several minutes he was in limbo, in and out of consciousness, but he finally cracked an eye open to assess the dark room, with only Sam's face lit from the screen. He could not get enough of seeing him so perfectly alright, so he took the opportunity to stare, something Sam would never allow. At one point, maybe 15 minutes later, Dean's stomach made a deep gurgling sound as if it was trying to digest itself. Sam smiled and looked over, which Dean took as his cue to let his brother know he was awake. He stretched
"God, I'm starving!"
Sam grinned
"I hear that. I didn't even know you could go so long without eating."
Dean frowned. He was definitely very hungry, that was for sure.
"What time is it?"
Could be anytime, with the blinds closed like that and the rain he heard outside.
"Five in the afternoon."
Dean shrugged and sat up. Didn't surprise him at all that he'd slept all day. He'd been so tired. Still was, thinking of it. He passed a hand on his face, surprised to find it so prickly. Sam closed the laptop and asked.
"You okay?"
Dean touched the bump on his forehead, still sensitive. Apart from that he felt perfectly fine.
"Sure. You?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, which conveyed 'not bad for being back from the dead' but he nodded and didn't say anything. Dean's stomach growled again and Sam smiled once more.
"C'mon, let's go feed you. I'm curious to see how much you'll eat after sleeping for 36 hours straight."
Half way in his jeans, Dean froze.
"What? Damn!"
Sam laughed.
"If you hadn't got up sometime in the first night to get in the bed, I would have worried that you had a concussion or something. But you didn't even stir until just now. Guess you needed it."
Dean snorted. Well that was a day wasted.
"What did you do all that time?"
Sam's grin faded. He avoided Dean's eyes.
"Research."
No need to say on what.
Dean finished dressing and took his keys.
"Come on, geek boy, I feel like eating a whole cow."
~@~
In fact, he almost did. Or it felt that way as Dean leaned on a low shelf, full and sated. Sam had laughed at first, then watched in dismay as he ate all of his humongous steak and potatoes (therefore winning a bet), then even a bit of Sam's just to prove his point.
The steakhouse was right next to a shopping mall, so they'd gone in to go buy Sam a couple of shirts. Poor boy was definitely running low in that department lately, and a sasquatch sure isn't that easy to dress. Freakish long arms.
Sam was actually trying something right now as Dean looked at the pretty little thing working in the shop, straightening displays as it was near closing hour. He had tried to charm her a bit, but she was obviously interested in Sam, having hovered around him since he got in. Usually it would have thrilled Dean, and he'd hope for a little action for his monk of a brother. But right now it just got on his last nerve. He could not wait to get out of this stupid mall. Dean Winchester didn't do malls.
Sam got out of the dressing room with one of the striped shirts that he'd picked out and the girl just cooed and smoothed the fabric on his shoulders and arms totally unnecessarily. She was honest to god feeling him up. That commanded a certain amount of respect, he had to admit. And Sam... well Sam was totally flirting back, little smiles, asking her name, playing her game easily. Something hot and ugly started building in Dean's guts, something like anger. Dean realized he was grasping the edge of the low shelf so hard, his knuckles were white.
Then the little shit said he'd take the shirt and started stripping it off right there, not even going back into the dressing room. And he had no t-shirt underneath. He had taken off the t-shit, was fucking showing off his body to a horny saleswoman and that made Dean snap. One minute he was looking at them, the next he was pushing Sam roughly into the dressing room, following him in and handing him his fucking t-shirt.
"Enough. Move it, Romeo."
Sam was so shocked at first he just gaped. Then he scowled.
"The hell Dean? What's wrong with you?"
Dean turned and saw the girl looking at him with round surprised eyes and he shut the dressing room door, then leaned on it.
"We're going, right now. Get dressed, Jesus!"
Sam rolled his eyes and finished taking off the striped shirt, clearly pissed too now.
"I can't believe it! She likes me better and you go ballistic. That's pathetic man."
Dean huffed. That was ridiculous. Yeah, it may have been jealousy, but not that way. Everything was shifting around him, too fast, too strong. He almost growled his answer.
"I don't give a shit about that cunt. I can have any girl I want."
Sam just looked confused now on top of royally pissed off.
"Then what the fuck was that?"
Dean's mind was just screaming at that point. You are mine. Mine. And how was that for fucked up? His breath was coming short and he almost bolted out the door. He didn't say anything, could not.
"Dean? What is wrong?"
Dean didn't know how to say it, sure knew that he should not do a thing about it. But Sam was there, two feet away, fucking gorgeous and Dean was blindsided by overwhelming waves of want. So wrong. He started to reach out for Sam's chest, wanting to put his hand over his heart and feel it beat but stopped half way.
"Dean!"
His eyes snapped up to Sam's, saw concern there, even fear. Dean started shaking his head no then fumbled behind him to find the dressing room door handle.
"I... I... just... never mind."
He had the door two inches open when Sam stepped forward and shut it back closed again, getting close, way too close. Dean started to panic, wanting to get out right the fuck now. Sam used his weight to pin him and stop him from moving. Dean had never been more terrified in his life, of what he might do. Sam said softly.
"You are frightening me man."
Dean laughed a bit and it sounded hysteric and wrong. He was shaking now.
"Let me go Sam. Please."
His voice cracked at that. He tried to put his hands between them to push Sam away but when he touched hot skin he recoiled, started shifting, made Sam grasp his biceps a bit harder to hold him still. He needed time. Space. God he needed space right now. He'd get his head back, everything would be fine.
"Please."
"Dean."
There was such a need to help him in the way Sam said his name, so much worry and love in that single word and in his eyes at that point that every bit of self restraint left Dean at once. He snaked a hand up to Sam's neck and pulled his head down before pressing his lips to Sam's firmly, his heart thundering in his chest. Sam gasped out of surprise but Dean pulled back immediately, feeling the hold on his arms loosen. He had to get out.
He barely had opened the door before Sam pushed him against it once more, and Dean considered hitting him just to escape that trap. He could not look at his brother, he was mortified.
"God Sam I'm sorry."
"Calm down."
How could he even say that? Dean looked up, incredulous. Sam didn't look angry or disgusted, his face was soft and he let go on of his arms to caress the side of his face with the tip of his fingers, soothing.
"Shh shh. It's okay. Calm down Dean."
All the fight left him at once. Dean closed his eyes and let his head thump against the door behind him, feeling dizzy, not knowing what to say or do next. He had never made a bigger mess in his entire life.
"I am so sor..."
Sam shut him off by kissing him, making something drop for miles in Dean's stomach. Sam's other hand came to hold his head too and Sam was kissing like he meant it, like he wanted it, like he needed it. Dean did something akin to a sob and opened his mouth for Sam, a deep shiver running up and down his spine when Sam moaned in approval as their tongues met. The kiss went from soft and soothing to hard and needing in no time, too much tongue and teeth, feral and desperate. Dean broke the kiss off because he absolutely needed to breathe and put his forehead on Sam's neck, panting, fingers gripping hard at Sam's hips. This, whatever it was, should not feel so good. Sam's hand lowered to his back where he started rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades, making those shushing noises again. After a minute, the fact that he didn't feel the need to run all that much and that Sam definitely didn't seem to be about to push him away made Dean chuckle. He stepped back and Sam was grinning. Dean was sure he had an idiot smile on too.
"This is so fucked up."
Sam laughed.
"Tell me about it."
They both went forward at the same time and their lips met again half way.
It just... fit. It was them. Sam and Dean, just a bit further. And Dean realized he was perfectly fine with that, if it kept Sam smiling so brightly.
The End.
Title: Seriously? I have nothing. Name that fic and get a cookie! Lol!
Warning: Supernatural. Sam/Dean. Spoilers for Season 2 finale and yes, going the Wincesty way.
Rating: R for lots of swearing (Dean, please, bad language) but no sexing, sorry.
Length: about 1800 words
Thanks to my friend Sue that doesn't even watch the show and helps me anyway!
This is for Angela
arabella_hope who lured me into the show. Thank you so much darling! My first Wincesty fic is all for you.
Killing the son of a bitch that ruined your life leaves you drained, or so it seems. Dean was humming from nervous energy at first, but a ridiculous two beers is all it took before he became groggy with the overwhelming need to sleep. Saying that the last days had been hard on him was a definite understatement. When Sam opened the motel door, Dean didn't even undress, only kicked his boots off, and crashed face down on the bed. Was asleep before hitting the pillow, probably.
What woke him up was an overwhelming need to piss. He felt like he was cast in lead, his limbs so heavy it was hard to move at all, and his eyelids would just not stay opened. He stumbled to the bathroom and back, took a moment to watch Sam sleeping on the other bed, breathing for god's sake, and stripped before burying under the covers. He was out for the count again.
The soft clicking sound of Sam typing fast on the laptop woke him the second time. For several minutes he was in limbo, in and out of consciousness, but he finally cracked an eye open to assess the dark room, with only Sam's face lit from the screen. He could not get enough of seeing him so perfectly alright, so he took the opportunity to stare, something Sam would never allow. At one point, maybe 15 minutes later, Dean's stomach made a deep gurgling sound as if it was trying to digest itself. Sam smiled and looked over, which Dean took as his cue to let his brother know he was awake. He stretched
"God, I'm starving!"
Sam grinned
"I hear that. I didn't even know you could go so long without eating."
Dean frowned. He was definitely very hungry, that was for sure.
"What time is it?"
Could be anytime, with the blinds closed like that and the rain he heard outside.
"Five in the afternoon."
Dean shrugged and sat up. Didn't surprise him at all that he'd slept all day. He'd been so tired. Still was, thinking of it. He passed a hand on his face, surprised to find it so prickly. Sam closed the laptop and asked.
"You okay?"
Dean touched the bump on his forehead, still sensitive. Apart from that he felt perfectly fine.
"Sure. You?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, which conveyed 'not bad for being back from the dead' but he nodded and didn't say anything. Dean's stomach growled again and Sam smiled once more.
"C'mon, let's go feed you. I'm curious to see how much you'll eat after sleeping for 36 hours straight."
Half way in his jeans, Dean froze.
"What? Damn!"
Sam laughed.
"If you hadn't got up sometime in the first night to get in the bed, I would have worried that you had a concussion or something. But you didn't even stir until just now. Guess you needed it."
Dean snorted. Well that was a day wasted.
"What did you do all that time?"
Sam's grin faded. He avoided Dean's eyes.
"Research."
No need to say on what.
Dean finished dressing and took his keys.
"Come on, geek boy, I feel like eating a whole cow."
~@~
In fact, he almost did. Or it felt that way as Dean leaned on a low shelf, full and sated. Sam had laughed at first, then watched in dismay as he ate all of his humongous steak and potatoes (therefore winning a bet), then even a bit of Sam's just to prove his point.
The steakhouse was right next to a shopping mall, so they'd gone in to go buy Sam a couple of shirts. Poor boy was definitely running low in that department lately, and a sasquatch sure isn't that easy to dress. Freakish long arms.
Sam was actually trying something right now as Dean looked at the pretty little thing working in the shop, straightening displays as it was near closing hour. He had tried to charm her a bit, but she was obviously interested in Sam, having hovered around him since he got in. Usually it would have thrilled Dean, and he'd hope for a little action for his monk of a brother. But right now it just got on his last nerve. He could not wait to get out of this stupid mall. Dean Winchester didn't do malls.
Sam got out of the dressing room with one of the striped shirts that he'd picked out and the girl just cooed and smoothed the fabric on his shoulders and arms totally unnecessarily. She was honest to god feeling him up. That commanded a certain amount of respect, he had to admit. And Sam... well Sam was totally flirting back, little smiles, asking her name, playing her game easily. Something hot and ugly started building in Dean's guts, something like anger. Dean realized he was grasping the edge of the low shelf so hard, his knuckles were white.
Then the little shit said he'd take the shirt and started stripping it off right there, not even going back into the dressing room. And he had no t-shirt underneath. He had taken off the t-shit, was fucking showing off his body to a horny saleswoman and that made Dean snap. One minute he was looking at them, the next he was pushing Sam roughly into the dressing room, following him in and handing him his fucking t-shirt.
"Enough. Move it, Romeo."
Sam was so shocked at first he just gaped. Then he scowled.
"The hell Dean? What's wrong with you?"
Dean turned and saw the girl looking at him with round surprised eyes and he shut the dressing room door, then leaned on it.
"We're going, right now. Get dressed, Jesus!"
Sam rolled his eyes and finished taking off the striped shirt, clearly pissed too now.
"I can't believe it! She likes me better and you go ballistic. That's pathetic man."
Dean huffed. That was ridiculous. Yeah, it may have been jealousy, but not that way. Everything was shifting around him, too fast, too strong. He almost growled his answer.
"I don't give a shit about that cunt. I can have any girl I want."
Sam just looked confused now on top of royally pissed off.
"Then what the fuck was that?"
Dean's mind was just screaming at that point. You are mine. Mine. And how was that for fucked up? His breath was coming short and he almost bolted out the door. He didn't say anything, could not.
"Dean? What is wrong?"
Dean didn't know how to say it, sure knew that he should not do a thing about it. But Sam was there, two feet away, fucking gorgeous and Dean was blindsided by overwhelming waves of want. So wrong. He started to reach out for Sam's chest, wanting to put his hand over his heart and feel it beat but stopped half way.
"Dean!"
His eyes snapped up to Sam's, saw concern there, even fear. Dean started shaking his head no then fumbled behind him to find the dressing room door handle.
"I... I... just... never mind."
He had the door two inches open when Sam stepped forward and shut it back closed again, getting close, way too close. Dean started to panic, wanting to get out right the fuck now. Sam used his weight to pin him and stop him from moving. Dean had never been more terrified in his life, of what he might do. Sam said softly.
"You are frightening me man."
Dean laughed a bit and it sounded hysteric and wrong. He was shaking now.
"Let me go Sam. Please."
His voice cracked at that. He tried to put his hands between them to push Sam away but when he touched hot skin he recoiled, started shifting, made Sam grasp his biceps a bit harder to hold him still. He needed time. Space. God he needed space right now. He'd get his head back, everything would be fine.
"Please."
"Dean."
There was such a need to help him in the way Sam said his name, so much worry and love in that single word and in his eyes at that point that every bit of self restraint left Dean at once. He snaked a hand up to Sam's neck and pulled his head down before pressing his lips to Sam's firmly, his heart thundering in his chest. Sam gasped out of surprise but Dean pulled back immediately, feeling the hold on his arms loosen. He had to get out.
He barely had opened the door before Sam pushed him against it once more, and Dean considered hitting him just to escape that trap. He could not look at his brother, he was mortified.
"God Sam I'm sorry."
"Calm down."
How could he even say that? Dean looked up, incredulous. Sam didn't look angry or disgusted, his face was soft and he let go on of his arms to caress the side of his face with the tip of his fingers, soothing.
"Shh shh. It's okay. Calm down Dean."
All the fight left him at once. Dean closed his eyes and let his head thump against the door behind him, feeling dizzy, not knowing what to say or do next. He had never made a bigger mess in his entire life.
"I am so sor..."
Sam shut him off by kissing him, making something drop for miles in Dean's stomach. Sam's other hand came to hold his head too and Sam was kissing like he meant it, like he wanted it, like he needed it. Dean did something akin to a sob and opened his mouth for Sam, a deep shiver running up and down his spine when Sam moaned in approval as their tongues met. The kiss went from soft and soothing to hard and needing in no time, too much tongue and teeth, feral and desperate. Dean broke the kiss off because he absolutely needed to breathe and put his forehead on Sam's neck, panting, fingers gripping hard at Sam's hips. This, whatever it was, should not feel so good. Sam's hand lowered to his back where he started rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades, making those shushing noises again. After a minute, the fact that he didn't feel the need to run all that much and that Sam definitely didn't seem to be about to push him away made Dean chuckle. He stepped back and Sam was grinning. Dean was sure he had an idiot smile on too.
"This is so fucked up."
Sam laughed.
"Tell me about it."
They both went forward at the same time and their lips met again half way.
It just... fit. It was them. Sam and Dean, just a bit further. And Dean realized he was perfectly fine with that, if it kept Sam smiling so brightly.
The End.