4 Comment Schmoop ficlets from wendy's meme

Jun 23, 2008 21:25

Collecting these because it's the first writing I've done since Big Bang like, mentally DRAINED me, and I like 'em and might expand them someday.

And you should definitely go roll around in the AWESOME of the meme itself here. Leave some comments! Write some fic!

Title: And everyone needs someone to live by
Prompt/Pairing: wendy - Sam/Dean: saying "I love you" without using the words
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 473



When Dean has a hangover, there's a glass of juice for him in the morning, 2 parts orange, one part grapefruit and one part cranberry.

When Sam has a nightmare, wakes up panting, sweating, heart thumping and pulse racing, Dean is there. Weight on him pulling him back to sleep. Soft breath on his neck, hand over his heart.

When Dean catches his finger on a part of the engine, and there's blood everywhere, and he's holding a cloth over his hand, screaming at Sam or Bobby to come help him find his missing fingertip, Sam calmly gets him to hold out his hand and they see it's not that bad. And after it's all bandaged up and he's stopped spurting blood and swear words, Sam puts it to his lips and whispers, "All better now?" and Dean says he can't even feel it.

When Sam looks at him from the passenger side, and Dean licks his thumb and rubs away a fleck of something from under Sam's eyes, grave-dust or some other piece of detritus they've encountered, Sam mocks him, but doesn't wipe away the saliva.

When Dean dies, Sam doesn't say goodbye.

When Sam pulls him out of the pit, Dean doesn't say anything else. Just crushes his mouth to his, and Sam breathes life into him, breathes air and Dean pulls away, coughs out the soot and the tar and the brimstone he's been soaked to the pores in. Sam gets him to the old house, the one he's been holed up in and into a clawfoot tub, the water runs black and then gray and finally clear as Dean begins to wash away the layers of grime that sheathed him. Sam's there, Sam's there and never moves from his side, never takes a hand away from his face, his neck, his head. Dean thinks they don't actually stop touching for a good two weeks later when he orders a burger with extra raw onions and Sam rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat, covering his nose when Dean lets out another impressive belch.

When Dean sees Sam crush a demon's skull between his fingers, he wraps his hands up with gauze and tape, and whispers, "All better now?" And Sam says it is.

When Sam pulls Dean close at night, solid weight holding him down, tethering him to this world, this bed. Dean is his anchor, his blanket, his armor and his shield against the world. And Dean is happy to lay on top of him all night long, digging his nose into the grooves of Sam's muscles and nuzzling against his chest, soft hair tickling Sam. And in the morning when Sam's arm is all pins and needles from being slept on, he doesn't say anything.

He just gets Dean coffee the way he likes it.

Title: Fashionable People
Prompt/Pairing: nomelon - Jared/Jensen: pink gingham shirt
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 138



Jensen has to admit it, Jared can make pink look good.

"Though, there's really only one way you'd look better," Jensen slurs to him, after a long day. He takes another tequila shot, licking the salt from his palm that Jared's been sprinkling on.

"Oh yeah," Jared says, smiling over his shaker.

Jensen bites down on the lime, "Nfffhn mhm behruhm fluhf."

"What?"

"If it was on my bedroom floor!" Jensen laughs.

**

Jensen pads down the staircase, hopping up on one of the stools on the breakfast bar, placing his head down in-between his arms. "Coffee..." he moans into the countertop.

"Y'know, not many men can pull off a pink shirt and no pants," Jared remarks, smirking as he slides a mug over to Jensen.

"Bite me."

"Again?"

"You're just jealous that I look better in it."

Title: Mine
Prompt/Pairing: lazy_daze - Sam/Dean; PDAs.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 308



"See, there's a catch to this one," Dean says, holding tight onto the box.

"Gimme," Sam says, tugging it forward.

"I'll give it to you if you just listen!" Dean says, jerking back.

"Gimme. Mine."

"You're such a geek. Who just used his awesomely awesome connections to score you a 3-G fully loaded Pinkberry?"

"Blackberry. Gimme."

"Whatever. And who used his really, really awesome connections to set up two years of service on an untraceable network server with stronger encrypting than Fort Knox? Who made sure they engraved it with your initials? And bought the new leather case?"

"You did. GIMME." Sam says, face pulling tight and yanking on the box.

"THERE. IS. A. CATCH." Dean growls, trying to tug back in vain.

"Fine!" Sam shouts, easing up on his grip. "What the hell do you want-?"

Dean kisses him in the middle of the street. Sweet, chaste kiss, right on his lips. Dean closes his eyes but Sam doesn't, he kisses back though, or tries to. But by the time he realizes the warmth on his mouth is welcome, Dean's pulled away, and let go of the box. Sam falls back on the ground, right smack on his ass. Still clutching the Blackberry.

"I get to do that whenever I feel like it."

Sam shakes it off, grin spreading across his face. "I said what's the catch, Dean?"

Dean snorts. "Also you have to figure out how to get that thing to bring me pizza. And burgers."

Sam unwraps it carefully in the car and once they get it working he uses the GPS and the built-in Google Maps to drive them to a really nice Italian place where Dean can eat white pizza and have lots of fancy meatballs drenched in sauce. He wipes his mouth clean on Sam's cheek, just for the hell of it.

Title: Baby, Honey, Sweetheart
Prompt/Pairing: wendy - Sam/Dean: baby, honey, sweetheart
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 591



1. Baby

"C'mon baby, c'mon," Dean says under his breath, turning the key in the engine and listening to the car sputter. "C'mon baby, let's do this, c'mon."

"Dean, I-"

"Shut!" Dean interrupts Sam, holding up a finger in warning. "Believe in my baby, Sammy, believe in her."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Believe in her. Rub the dash."

"Oh fuck you, I am not rubbing the-" the car sputters and Dean slams his hand against the wheel in anger.

"Oh c'mon now!" he screams. Sam bites the inside of his mouth, and places his palms carefully on the dashboard.

"C'mon," he murmurs.

Dean tries the key one more time, and the engine roars to life. "Attagirl! That's the sound I wanna hear!"

"S'good baby," Sam mumbles under his breath. "Real good."

2. Honey

It's a haunted apiary. Which Sam has to remind Dean a good 10 times that there are no monkeys or orangutans at an apiary. And no, he's sure he's reading it right, it's not a bird sanctuary.

The bees hum constantly, like white noise, and the ghost beekeeper points at the Winchesters, summoning his swarm to them. Dean gets his ass knocked into one of the hives and sticky bits of comb are on the seat of his pants. He growls.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, "Dean are you okay?"

"I'm fine Sam, I'm-I'm not getting stung." Dean looks down at his hands. "They're not stinging."

Sam's jaw drops. "Ghost bees."

"Fuckin' ghost bees. Got any rocksalt BB's?"

Sam spies the hose on the ground. "Salt the water, spray down the hives?"

"Sounds like a plan," Dean says, grabbing Sam's hand to pull himself up. Then he smirks and rubs Sam's cheeks, and takes off for the Impala's trunk, leaving a sticky residue on Sam's face.

"Euuuyuch," Sam says, trying to pull it off. "Ghost bee honey?"

3. Sweetheart

"What c'n I getcha, sweetheart?" the waitress asks as she snaps her gum.

"Tuna melt," Sam says, handing over his menu.

"And f'r you, sweetheart?"

"Burger, medium rare, fries."

"Comin' right up, sweetheart," she says, giving Dean a wink.

"She thinks you're sweet, Dean," Sam says, eyebrow raised.

"She called you sweetheart first, sugar," Dean says, sipping his coffee.

"She obviously likes you better, darlin'."

"Aww, really think so, sugarbear?"

"Sure do, honeypie."

"Well if my baby says it's so-"

"Who says I'm your baby, Dean?" Sam interrupts. "You call the fucking car, 'baby.'"

"So you don't want to be baby? Not a problem, Sammy-muffin sugarlips dumple-lumpkins…"

"I'd think ya called him scarecrow, cowboy," the waitress interrupts, freshening Dean's coffee. "Big tall lanky fella like that, betcha he calls you scarecrow, or beanpole or maybe-"

"Sasquatch," Dean answers.

"He, he doesn't really," Sam says.

"I call him Sammy. He's not a giver of nicknames though, he's just a receiver. Y'know what I mean?" Dean says, winking at the waitress as she laughs.

"Receiver!?" Sam sputters. The waitress walks away and he leans in close. "Dean! Stop it, first of all you know that if we were, y'know I wouldn't be a-a-"

"How do you know?"

"I think about these things."

"You think about things with me?"

Sam's world kind of caves in, and he wonders if ghost bee honey had something to do with it, or maybe there's something in the coffee, something making him spill everything out like that.

**

"Baby," Dean purrs into his skin, "honey, sweetheart."

Sam kisses away every name from his lips, until the only one left is his.

j2, drabble, meme-fish eighty six, rating: pg-13, ficlet, rps, wincest

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