OKAY THIS NEEDS TO BE HUGE GUISE BECAUSE I MEAN C'MON NOW
THE DEAN/CAS/SAM LOVE MEME
Now I was going to do just a Sassy Meme but honestly I miss Dean too and I mean I'm doing the D/C Big Bang so I figure Dean/Cas should be in there as well, and I won't hate on Wincest either because I know some people super dig it. SO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS
IN THE
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Except that isn't the case. Because, unclothed, Sam looks...normal. He looks like any other tall dude spread out naked on a motel bed, arms and limbs splayed, sheets tangled around the weirdly delicate arches of his feet. The skin of his arms and chest and shoulders is a sweet, golden color, almost textured, like suede. He could be a pin-up poster, if it weren't for the shirtless angel kneeling between his spread legs, holding his canted hips up with one hand while another trails down and back, disappearing into the shadow of Sam's body and the bedsheets.
"Dean'll be back soon," Sam says, and his voice slicks away on a moan as Castiel's fingers nudge forward. The angel shifts, and Sam tries to follow the movement with his hips - it leaves him spread open, displayed. Sam Winchester is intimidating, yes, but he's also all scrubbed-pink skin and the shine of lube where Castiel's fingers vanish into him, one and then two and then three.
"I am not what I once was," Castiel says softly, "but even I can manage something as rudimentary as locking the door."
"Smartass," Sam sighs, his breath hitching on a moan as Castiel spreads his fingers apart. "Fuck. Yes. I'm ready, Cas, do it."
"You were worried about Dean," Castiel says. There's a tone to his voice, almost teasing, and that's...yeah, that's way unusual. And when Sam sort of growls, and curls one huge hand around the back of his neck and yanks him down, there's almost something like a smile hovering around Castiel's lips.
"Fuck me," Sam says, lips pursed around the words, and Chuck wakes up.
He has a fleeting moment of damnit, just when it was getting good, and then he glances down at his lap. The headache of a minor vision like this isn't anywhere near enough to kill his boner.
"Fuck you," he says to his dick, and is honestly surprised when it doesn't answer him - that's how weird his life has gotten. He tosses the blanket off the couch, then gingerly stands and hobbles his way to the bathroom.
"There will be no gay sex fantasies in the showers," Chuck says to himself (and his genitals) in the bathroom mirror. "We did the whole experimenting thing in college, and also, I don't want to be smited for jerking off to an angel and...and whatever Sam is, fucking."
He glares at his reflection, and then sighs, and turns the shower to 'cold.'
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Just sayin'.
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Chuck has a brief space of time where he comforts himself with the fact that at least this is a regular dream, not a crazy angel-maybe-God-sanctioned sex dream about the characters in his books (except they aren't characters, not really). And then he realizes that he is having a dream where he is sitting at his kitchen table, across from a giant, anthropomorphized penis.
"Um," Chuck says, and, conveniently, there's a bottle of Cuervo and a conga line of shot glasses in front of him, so he focuses on that instead of, you know, giant cocks.
"You're seriously going to ignore me," the penis says. Chuck doesn't look at it. He doesn't want to know why it's talking, but, even more, he doesn't want to know how. "After everything we've been through together. I let you convince me to bang Cecily Murray, dude. I was scared I was gonna get the clap."
"Oh God," Chuck says. Because he remembers Cecily Murray. And he remembers waiting in the front room at the clinic, hands clasped defensively over his crotch, like everyone in there had had x-ray vision and had been able to see his shame. "You couldn't just be some random dick, could you?"
"When is anything ever random," the penis - Chuck's junk - says. It sounds philosophical. "Like, I don't think God would let you see your hot pseudo-characters fucking if he didn't want you to write it down somewhere. And, you know, if you happen to write it down in your spank journal, who's gonna care? Not like anyone's ever going to find it. That lockbox is pretty tough, dude."
Chuck slams down three shots in rapid succession. Maybe if he gets drunk fast enough, he'll be able to wake up.
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Oh Chuck.
Chuck has clearly seen sex scenes before; there's a certain humour to that fact that they're apparently a vital part of the gospel.
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ILU
UNFFFF AND THERE WAS BONUS CHUCK WHO WAS HILARIOUS AND ADORABLE
I LOVE THIS MEME :D
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UNF.
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That was amaaazing! Loved this: "and insurmountable and fucking frightening"
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Do you think he'll put this in the next novel?
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Thanks!!
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