It Ain't No Sin - Dean/Impala - Drabble-ish
Title: It Ain't No Sin
Pairings: Dean/Impala
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Not my boys. But totally my boys. Not my car. But totally my car. I'm only here playing and no harm intended.
Summary: Blue denim and motor oil
A/N: For entropic_om. Blue denim and motor oil. Drabbleish. Requests can be made here.
The streak of grease across his cheek shines in the sun. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples and slide down his throat to be absorbed by the grimy, once-white cotton of his shirt. He runs the back of his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat and leaves behind a new, dark stain of fluid. He goes to his knees, scuffing the worn patches of his jeans, and slides himself under the chassis, smooth as you please.
Dean's hands move softly over her, caressing, twisting, pulling on pieces of her soul. He drains her, just to fill her up again. It's a give and take, back and forth, in and out that he only shares with her. He makes her graceful; she rolls smooth on the blacktop. He makes her sleek; she shines in the sun. He makes her pristine; she purrs under his body.
He is hers. And when he's gone, because she knows one day he'll have to go, she'll stop. That day. That day, the world will end.
Pairings: Dean/Impala
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Not my boys. But totally my boys. Not my car. But totally my car. I'm only here playing and no harm intended.
Summary: Blue denim and motor oil
A/N: For entropic_om. Blue denim and motor oil. Drabbleish. Requests can be made here.
The streak of grease across his cheek shines in the sun. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples and slide down his throat to be absorbed by the grimy, once-white cotton of his shirt. He runs the back of his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat and leaves behind a new, dark stain of fluid. He goes to his knees, scuffing the worn patches of his jeans, and slides himself under the chassis, smooth as you please.
Dean's hands move softly over her, caressing, twisting, pulling on pieces of her soul. He drains her, just to fill her up again. It's a give and take, back and forth, in and out that he only shares with her. He makes her graceful; she rolls smooth on the blacktop. He makes her sleek; she shines in the sun. He makes her pristine; she purrs under his body.
He is hers. And when he's gone, because she knows one day he'll have to go, she'll stop. That day. That day, the world will end.