Sweet Tooth; prompted
Disclaimer: I own nothing in any way, shape, or form.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Dean
W/C & Warnings: 985; first time Wincest, so I'm warning you for possible ooc-ness and fluff
A/N: written for wheretheeveningsplitsinhalf on tumblr, who said, "Wincest, chocolate, first-time."
Summary/Read More:
--
It was a really stupid thing to fight over, looking back on it. But, then again, hindsight is 20/20, Sam tells himself.
It’s just…it was a chocolate bar, of all things.
He can still hear Dean’s completely serious, “With almonds, Sammy. Almonds,” as if it justified their little tussle.
They had stopped for gas in some podunk town just on the edge of Georgia. Sam stayed outside to pump while Dean went in for refreshments. Normally Dean didn’t let anyone look at his baby, let alone fill her up with gas, but Sam didn’t say anything. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, anyways, and it felt nice out. It was a crisp autumn that he could taste on his tongue, the kind that required a light jacket, but not much more. He liked this weather.
He lost himself to the slow ticking of the gas meter and the feeling of warm sunshine on his face when he heard the creak of the door and felt the car rock a bit. Dean was safe in the driver’s seat, itching to get on the road again. Sam smiled, put the pump back in its place, and slid in alongside him, ready to go whenever Dean was.
And a couple miles later, if Dean refused to let him get his drink and food out of the bag, (opting instead to get it out for him himself), well that wasn’t such a big deal.
--
Later they found a motel room for the night. Dean was complaining of an ache between his shoulders that could only be cured by a night in a bed, so Sam agreed, and well, there they were.
Sam called first shower. Dean gave it to him willingly. Now that was weird. After the gas, the food, and then this, Sam was beginning to suspect something was up. Nothing major-it was Dean, after all-but something strange was happening nonetheless. He stood in the bathroom for a moment, just letting the water run as he waited for Dean to get settled, then opened the door.
Dean was sitting on the bed, and he whipped his arm quickly behind his back at the sound of the door. He looked at Sam like a child who had been caught in the cookie jar, and Sam had to try not to laugh.
“Forgot my clothes…” Sam put his hands up defensively and walked over to his duffle, leaning over to pull out a pair of jeans that were somewhat clean.
He was going to go back to the bathroom, leaving this situation in their rearview, before he noticed a smudge on Dean’s chin.
“Dude, you got a little,” he swiped at his own chin, nodding in Dean’s direction, before sighing. “Here, lemme-,” he reached forward to get it himself, and was met with Dean actually rolling off of the bed to get away.
That’s when Sam saw it: A little gleam of silver behind Dean’s back.
“Dude…is that chocolate?” not that he cared. It’s just that, well, it’s only fair to share. Neither of them got to indulge very often, and goddamn if the sight of chocolate wasn’t making his sweet tooth ache.
“The shower’s running,” Dean said lamely. His mouth sounded thick, his voice sticky, and Sam laughed. He laughed heartily, eyes closed and chest booming, because that was the worst attempt at changing the subject Dean has ever had. Ever.
“C’mon man, just gimme a bite,” Sam said, still chuckling a few moments later.
“No. The shower’s running,” Dean repeated stubbornly, eyeing Sam as he quickly took a bite.
The whole situation was so ridiculous, so unlike Dean, that Sam just kept laughing, eventually walking into his brother’s space.
“Stop being a child, Dean, just one bite!” he said, grin on his face. He reached for Dean, who was now almost against the wall.
“Shower, Sammy! Shower!” Dean turned, arms outstretched. As if he actually thought that would keep Sam’s ridiculously long arms away from his chocolate. Pfft.
“I’ll get in,” Sam said, physically lifting Dean and tossing him to the bed, “as soon as you gimme a bite!” He had a ridiculous smile plastered on his face that hadn’t been there for this long in years as the two tumbled to the bed, elbows jabbing and knees connecting with flesh without any real malice.
Somehow, Dean managed to get an arm free, which he used to shove the entire candy bar into his mouth. Sam had the other arm pinned and was sitting heavily on his legs, staring at his older brother.
“You’re serious,” Sam said from above him.
“Mmm hm!” Dean nodded, cheeks bulging slightly. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he tried to smile, then he began chewing obnoxiously.
“Want some now, Sammy?” he said, opening his mouth to reveal the chewed up…gunk in his mouth.
“Um, no thank you, douche,” Sam huffed, letting his other arm go and crossing his own across his chest.
“Didn’t think so,” Dean grinned before swallowing thickly. ”Now get offa me, you weigh a friggin ton.”
Before he could move to push at Sam, though, his still open mouth was attacked. By Sam’s. Because he was…kissing him?
And pretty damn well, if Dean said so himself. His tongue was tracing the inside of his mouth, exploring, claiming, making itself a home. Sam swiped his tongue filthily along Dean’s bottom lip, making his older brother groan, before he stood up.
“Not bad…why almonds, though?” Sam seemed to be talking to himself, face scrunched up as he walked to the bathroom.
Dean just watched him in shock. Hell, if Sam acted like this all the time when he bought candy, maybe he should buy a butterfinger next; at least they get stuck in your teeth. Sam would have one hell of a time getting it out…
Yeah, he thought, smiling to himself. That would be fun.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Dean
W/C & Warnings: 985; first time Wincest, so I'm warning you for possible ooc-ness and fluff
A/N: written for wheretheeveningsplitsinhalf on tumblr, who said, "Wincest, chocolate, first-time."
Summary/Read More:
--
It was a really stupid thing to fight over, looking back on it. But, then again, hindsight is 20/20, Sam tells himself.
It’s just…it was a chocolate bar, of all things.
He can still hear Dean’s completely serious, “With almonds, Sammy. Almonds,” as if it justified their little tussle.
They had stopped for gas in some podunk town just on the edge of Georgia. Sam stayed outside to pump while Dean went in for refreshments. Normally Dean didn’t let anyone look at his baby, let alone fill her up with gas, but Sam didn’t say anything. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, anyways, and it felt nice out. It was a crisp autumn that he could taste on his tongue, the kind that required a light jacket, but not much more. He liked this weather.
He lost himself to the slow ticking of the gas meter and the feeling of warm sunshine on his face when he heard the creak of the door and felt the car rock a bit. Dean was safe in the driver’s seat, itching to get on the road again. Sam smiled, put the pump back in its place, and slid in alongside him, ready to go whenever Dean was.
And a couple miles later, if Dean refused to let him get his drink and food out of the bag, (opting instead to get it out for him himself), well that wasn’t such a big deal.
--
Later they found a motel room for the night. Dean was complaining of an ache between his shoulders that could only be cured by a night in a bed, so Sam agreed, and well, there they were.
Sam called first shower. Dean gave it to him willingly. Now that was weird. After the gas, the food, and then this, Sam was beginning to suspect something was up. Nothing major-it was Dean, after all-but something strange was happening nonetheless. He stood in the bathroom for a moment, just letting the water run as he waited for Dean to get settled, then opened the door.
Dean was sitting on the bed, and he whipped his arm quickly behind his back at the sound of the door. He looked at Sam like a child who had been caught in the cookie jar, and Sam had to try not to laugh.
“Forgot my clothes…” Sam put his hands up defensively and walked over to his duffle, leaning over to pull out a pair of jeans that were somewhat clean.
He was going to go back to the bathroom, leaving this situation in their rearview, before he noticed a smudge on Dean’s chin.
“Dude, you got a little,” he swiped at his own chin, nodding in Dean’s direction, before sighing. “Here, lemme-,” he reached forward to get it himself, and was met with Dean actually rolling off of the bed to get away.
That’s when Sam saw it: A little gleam of silver behind Dean’s back.
“Dude…is that chocolate?” not that he cared. It’s just that, well, it’s only fair to share. Neither of them got to indulge very often, and goddamn if the sight of chocolate wasn’t making his sweet tooth ache.
“The shower’s running,” Dean said lamely. His mouth sounded thick, his voice sticky, and Sam laughed. He laughed heartily, eyes closed and chest booming, because that was the worst attempt at changing the subject Dean has ever had. Ever.
“C’mon man, just gimme a bite,” Sam said, still chuckling a few moments later.
“No. The shower’s running,” Dean repeated stubbornly, eyeing Sam as he quickly took a bite.
The whole situation was so ridiculous, so unlike Dean, that Sam just kept laughing, eventually walking into his brother’s space.
“Stop being a child, Dean, just one bite!” he said, grin on his face. He reached for Dean, who was now almost against the wall.
“Shower, Sammy! Shower!” Dean turned, arms outstretched. As if he actually thought that would keep Sam’s ridiculously long arms away from his chocolate. Pfft.
“I’ll get in,” Sam said, physically lifting Dean and tossing him to the bed, “as soon as you gimme a bite!” He had a ridiculous smile plastered on his face that hadn’t been there for this long in years as the two tumbled to the bed, elbows jabbing and knees connecting with flesh without any real malice.
Somehow, Dean managed to get an arm free, which he used to shove the entire candy bar into his mouth. Sam had the other arm pinned and was sitting heavily on his legs, staring at his older brother.
“You’re serious,” Sam said from above him.
“Mmm hm!” Dean nodded, cheeks bulging slightly. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he tried to smile, then he began chewing obnoxiously.
“Want some now, Sammy?” he said, opening his mouth to reveal the chewed up…gunk in his mouth.
“Um, no thank you, douche,” Sam huffed, letting his other arm go and crossing his own across his chest.
“Didn’t think so,” Dean grinned before swallowing thickly. ”Now get offa me, you weigh a friggin ton.”
Before he could move to push at Sam, though, his still open mouth was attacked. By Sam’s. Because he was…kissing him?
And pretty damn well, if Dean said so himself. His tongue was tracing the inside of his mouth, exploring, claiming, making itself a home. Sam swiped his tongue filthily along Dean’s bottom lip, making his older brother groan, before he stood up.
“Not bad…why almonds, though?” Sam seemed to be talking to himself, face scrunched up as he walked to the bathroom.
Dean just watched him in shock. Hell, if Sam acted like this all the time when he bought candy, maybe he should buy a butterfinger next; at least they get stuck in your teeth. Sam would have one hell of a time getting it out…
Yeah, he thought, smiling to himself. That would be fun.