Ficlet: Why Sam Loves Food (Sam/Dean, PG)
How is it with drabbles, do you post them at fanfic communities? Or wait until you have a few collected, because posting anything under 2000 words would be tacky?
Title: Why Sam Loves Food
Author: Vera
Pairing/Character(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: PG (-R, to be sure. Hints at sex.)
Disclaimer: Me no own.
Word Count: 395
Summary: The title says it all. ;)
Author's Note: Written for theechochorus, drabble prompt: Author's Choice: Food
Sam loved food. It wasn’t so much that he liked eating, no, actually, eating was just a necessity and if they ever came up with a time-conserving food pill you just had to swallow and be done for the day, Sam would be first in line. It also wasn’t the taste. Maybe there was something wrong with his taste buds, but he never experienced any particular joy eating anything.
But the thing was, food made Dean happy. And Sam just loved to watch Dean eat. See the blissful expression on his face when it was good, or watch his nose shrivel up in disgust when he didn’t agree with the cook. Or the excited glint in his eyes whenever he scanned a menu and found something particularly greasy, or hell, whenever they even passed a burger joint. Or a sign advertising home-made pie. Dean always guarded his emotions. Always. Except for when it came to food.
Also, Sam had to admit that he just got a kick out of watching his brother eat. The way his throat muscles worked, his lips, grease stained, or maybe red from cherry pie, Dean’s tongue, which snaked out to lick over them ever so often. Sam was usually squirming in his seat by the time Dean started licking his fingers clean, digit by digit. And then he’d look at Sam and smirk before swirling his tongue around his thumb, and he knew. The bastard just knew what that did to him.
Sam even forgave him for eating on his bed and leaving a mess ever so often. Because it always ended up with Sam making a complete mess out of Dean’s bed in return and when left with the choice of either sleeping in sweat covered sheets stained with several sticky spots or curling up next to Sam in between a few food crumbs and maybe some grease, Dean always chose Sam’s bed. And those were the only times when he got Dean to cuddle up with him.
Lately Dean’s food orgies on Sam’s bed had increased in frequency and Sam wondered if maybe he was doing it on purpose. But he would never mention it. However, Sam kept insisting on take-out more often than usual, too. Just because it was safer to eat inside their salt covered motel room and all. Yeah.
Sam loved food. He really did.
Title: Why Sam Loves Food
Author: Vera
Pairing/Character(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: PG (-R, to be sure. Hints at sex.)
Disclaimer: Me no own.
Word Count: 395
Summary: The title says it all. ;)
Author's Note: Written for theechochorus, drabble prompt: Author's Choice: Food
Sam loved food. It wasn’t so much that he liked eating, no, actually, eating was just a necessity and if they ever came up with a time-conserving food pill you just had to swallow and be done for the day, Sam would be first in line. It also wasn’t the taste. Maybe there was something wrong with his taste buds, but he never experienced any particular joy eating anything.
But the thing was, food made Dean happy. And Sam just loved to watch Dean eat. See the blissful expression on his face when it was good, or watch his nose shrivel up in disgust when he didn’t agree with the cook. Or the excited glint in his eyes whenever he scanned a menu and found something particularly greasy, or hell, whenever they even passed a burger joint. Or a sign advertising home-made pie. Dean always guarded his emotions. Always. Except for when it came to food.
Also, Sam had to admit that he just got a kick out of watching his brother eat. The way his throat muscles worked, his lips, grease stained, or maybe red from cherry pie, Dean’s tongue, which snaked out to lick over them ever so often. Sam was usually squirming in his seat by the time Dean started licking his fingers clean, digit by digit. And then he’d look at Sam and smirk before swirling his tongue around his thumb, and he knew. The bastard just knew what that did to him.
Sam even forgave him for eating on his bed and leaving a mess ever so often. Because it always ended up with Sam making a complete mess out of Dean’s bed in return and when left with the choice of either sleeping in sweat covered sheets stained with several sticky spots or curling up next to Sam in between a few food crumbs and maybe some grease, Dean always chose Sam’s bed. And those were the only times when he got Dean to cuddle up with him.
Lately Dean’s food orgies on Sam’s bed had increased in frequency and Sam wondered if maybe he was doing it on purpose. But he would never mention it. However, Sam kept insisting on take-out more often than usual, too. Just because it was safer to eat inside their salt covered motel room and all. Yeah.
Sam loved food. He really did.