FIC "Dean Winchester doesn't do metaphors." Sam/Dean one-shot.
Title: Dean Winchester doesn’t do metaphors.
Author: likiel
Disclaimers: Sam & Dean ain’t mine, I'm just playing with them.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warning: Nothing to graphics, just kissing but mmh… not on the lips.
Words: 1394
Summary: “You should be kissing my ass! You were dead meat, dude!” Sam Winchester.
Notes: This ficlet is a gift to insertcode11 who give me a wish, Sam/Dean and the key word: Kissing. But she never said where! *giggles* I hope you’ll like it honey, I hope y’all like it!
Prompt: Sam/Dean kissing. Start after right after 1x11: “You should be kissing my ass! You were dead meat, dude!” Sam Winchester
--
Oh God, how did they end up here? It started innocently, Dean could have sworn it. It was just a joke, a dare, another way to challenge his brother, to prove to himself that he wasn’t above the worse when it comes to mess with Sammy.
So, how the hell did they end up sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table, in front of the pissed off old man, and getting the most traumatizing talk of their life?
It was Sam’s fault. That’s how.
***
“You should be kissing my ass! You were dead meat, dude!” Sam said after he slapped Dean’s hand while the older brother snickered.
“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten out!” Dean lied cheerfully and pinned Sam with a devious smile.
“Besides, no small favors would make me kiss your ugly ass, Sammy.”
Sam stopped by the car and glared at his big brother.
“You call saving your life a small favor? And dude, my ass is not ugly, it’s totally appealing and you know it.” The youngest man finished with a smug smile.
Dean stared at him.
“Did the fugly knocked your head or something?”
“What? You’re allowed to gloat but I can’t? What did you said again? That’s you were… mmh the handsome one?”
“Now Sammy, don’t be like that”, Dean practically purred and sent a leering smile towards the tall man, “I was only stating the fact. Besides, what did I teached you about sharing, little brother? You get the brain; I get the brawn and the look. S’only fair.”
“You are so full of it”
“Whatever Bitch, get in the car.”
--
Of course two hours later and still on the road, Sam hadn’t dropped the subject, whatever the subject was. No matter how loud Dean turned the radio or how hard the glares he was sending towards him were, Sam kept asking for some kind of retribution because after all “I did save your life Dean!” and “this girl would have die with you if it weren’t for me, you jerk!” and “How come you can’t just recognize that I’m awesome?” Oh, and let’s not forget Dean’s favorite “You should be on your knees, thanking me, jackass!”
Nevermind of course, that none of this kidnapping mess would have happened, if Sam hadn’t run away like an emo teenager girl, Dean thought while gritting his teeth.
Three hours later and the constant whining sound of his brother’s voice finally got the better of him.
Dean pulled out on the side of the road, yank his door open, quickly made his way around the car before Sam even had the chance to open his door, and pull him out.
“Dean…”
“Shut up!”
What happened next, Dean blame it utterly and truthfully on Sam’s bitchvoice, bitchface and bitchattitude, cause the whole package clearly made him lost his mind during two fatal minutes.
Manhandling the youngest man, Dean shoved him against the hood, face and torso pressed up against the cold metal, and in quick, hard movement, yanked Sam’s pants and boxers down. Completely Ignoring Sam’s sharp gasp and sudden tenseness, the older brother drop down his knees, his face inched apart from Sam’s naked ass (my, my, that’s was a hot ass… focus Dean) and without preamble smacked a loud kiss on each cheek.
The expression “Time seemed to stop” got an all new meaning after that.
During a couple of minutes or maybe hours none of them moved from their position. Then, slowly, Dean stood up, darted his eyes everywhere but on his brother and cleared his throat.
“Well, if I knew the trick to make you shut it, I would have done that a lot sooner bitch.”
He never saw the punch coming.
--
They made it to Bobby’s by miracle. The whole travel was a blur of pinching and yelling about Dean’s earlier action, but the older man didn’t even have the heart to feel guilty, not when Sam was blushing like a goddamn virgin during one hour straight. Totally worth it.
And because Dean was awesome like that, he decided to tease him about it.
“whassa’ matter Sammy? I did exactly what you wanted! You’ve been blabbing about how I should have been on my knees thanking you… aren’t you satisfied?
Sam was reduced to incoherents spurts, his face was more red than ever and his hands were curled into tight fists.
Inwardly, Dean was dancing gleefully. After three hours forced to endure Sam’s constant snarking, it felt damn good to reciprocate.
“Or maybe my wonderful lips did a little something to you? Is that it Sammy? Did I turned you on?”
Later, Dean would thought that he was the adrenaline and the furious joy of pissing Sam that made him talked like that.
But for now, once again, he never saw the punch coming.
--
The minute they stepped inside Bobby’s house, Sam sprinted upstairs and slammed his door close unnecessary loudly
Bobby turned an incredulous look towards Dean who smiled awkwardly.
“Don’t pay attention to her, Bobby, Samantha have her periods.”
A horrible crash was heard above their heads.
“You idgit! What did you do?”
“What? Nothing! What’s make you think I did anything?”
“Your brother doesn’t get that pissed without reason.”
Dean snorted.
“Have you met Sam?”
“Dean…”
“Alright! M’gonna talk to the giant girl, don’t worry.”
Dean headed upstairs and without knocking first, entered in the room like a king in his palace.
This time, he managed to dodge the third punch Sam sent to him.
“This is getting really old, Sam.” The older brother warned with a stern voice.
Sam was still blushing (how was that even possible?) and was sporting the mother of Bitchface. He also only wearing his boxers and a shirt.
Dean was not staring. He was not.
“Get the fuck out of my room”
“It’s our room, Sam, where do you think you are? We always shared at Bobby’s.”
“Not tonight, I’m not talking to you.” Sam snapped and turned around to go to the bathroom.
Dean didn’t thought, he reacted. In an impulsive movement, he tackled Sam and they ended up on the bed. Sam struggled fiercely and managed to spun around but Dean used his weight to pressed his brother on the mattress, his long frame completely pinning Sam’s body.
Face to face, they stared at each other. Sam’s eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted. Dean found himself unable to stop staring at them, unable to stop approaching his face to his Brother’s.
“Dean… what are you doing?” Sam murmured warily like Dean was a dangerous kind of snake or something.
“I don’t know.”
Yet, his face was still descending.
“Dean… Dean! Think about it for second please!”
“I can do that later.”
His lips were now inched apart from Sam’s.
“Is that what get your panties in a twist? Did you like what I did?” Dean asked with low voice, almost against Sam’s lips.
“No! I… well…”
“Yeah?”
“ I… I wouldn’t mind you… kissing elsewhere…”
It shouldn’t had been such a pushover, really. But fuck, Dean never popped a hard on that quickly in his life.
“Where babe?”
Oh, here’s the bitchface.
“Don’t call me that.”
Dean’s nose brushed against Sam’s and his tongue sneaked a little to caress the pink upper lip.
“I’ll call you whatever pleases me Sammy.”
And here’s the blushing virgin.
“Where do you want me to kiss you?” Dean smiled, barely containing his smugness.
“Can you.. mh… can you start with my mouth?”
God, Sam was going to be the death of him.
“Fuck yeah…”
Just a millimeter and…
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO IDGITS DOING?”
No, scratch that, Dean decided, Bobby was going to be the death of him.
*********