"Orange-Flavored Kiss," Miracles/SPN, PG-13
A Miracles/Supernatural Cross-over
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: Ficlette
Rating: Parental Supervision Suggested for those under 13 for adult theme
Dates: Written August 2006
Word Count: 884
Summary: Dean dreams of sharing an orange with Paul. Oranges are juicy. Dean/Paul.
Beta Thanks: Thanks to KaijaWest, Meredevachon, and Heather L. for the betas.
Author's Notes: This story takes place after "Pavlovian Dog." I don't know where this kink comes from; I just find the idea of Paul and Dean getting all sticky and messy and needing to clean each other up really sexy. This ficlette was written in one night while watching episodes of "Dark Angel" with Jensen's character Alec in them. Such nice motivation...
It may have taken a couple hours, but Dean finally got to sleep. The only thing that turned off his mind enough to let him rest was thinking of light-hearted, amusing things. Like the fact that his brother was finally getting a good night's sleep, slumbering like a big, brown-haired rock, and Dean was the one having the nightmares this time and repeatedly waking Sam up. Dean grinned and closed his eyes, and fell into another dream of Paul Callan.
This one, though, wasn't about the Apocalypse. The two of them were sitting on Paul's bed, Paul dressed in his usual Metrosexual-wear of a blue dress shirt and slacks; he looked very handsome to Dean. This might've been the most unusual wet dream Dean had ever had, as he was stealing looks at Paul between concentrating on slicing up an orange with a pocket knife. Neither spoke at this point. The juice of the orange ran down Dean's fingers in narrow streams and got his palm wet and sticky. Paul watched with interest, a teasing smirk on his lips.
Dean removed one wedge of orange and put the rest on the bedside table. He started to eat it as Paul took Dean's other hand, brought it to his lips, and began to lick the juice of the orange off his palm, slowly, giving Dean a sultry gaze when he wasn't looking at the hand upon which he was nearly feasting. Dean watched him do this, eating his orange slice with an amused grin. Paul could be such a hot little tease. After the palm had been licked clean, Paul went to work on each finger. Some he just licked up and down, others he took into his mouth and sucked, bringing them in and out of his lips in an obvious imitation of oral sex. Dean was hypnotized watching that. Just the idea got him excited.
Dean reached over to get the orange again, cutting another slice. He put his tongue to the blade of the knife and carefully licked the juice off before putting the wedge of fruit to Paul's mouth. Paul bit into it roughly, deliberately causing the juice to run in small rivers and droplets down his chin. The half-eaten slice dropped to the bed as Dean leaned in quickly to lap up the juice. He sucked at Paul's chin, shadowed with the prospect of stubble, his tongue taking its time before slipping softly between Paul's lips and into his mouth. Paul eagerly received Dean's orange-flavored kiss.
They kissed without stopping for a minute. At least it felt like a minute; time in dreams passed strangely when compared to the well-ordered movement of reality. Paul's tongue sliding enticingly over Dean's. Lips pulling slightly at one another with gentle but desperate sucking pressure. The sound of their kisses amplified by the surreality of Dean's dream. He could have gone on like that for hours. Just this.
But Dean found his hands moving to cup Paul's jaw, which got more juice from the orange on his neck. Something about that seemed like a really good idea, and he reached for the orange again. Dean cut a slice to squeeze over Paul's neck, along the side, so that juice ran into the hollow of his throat and down his collarbone. Paul shivered and moaned, then let out a small laugh. Before any juice could stain his shirt, Dean undid the first few buttons and moved the shirt aside, almost off Paul's shoulder, then leaned in to slowly lick the juice, every drop, from his skin. Off his collarbone, from the hollow of his throat, along the curve of his neck up to his ear. Paul sighed with passion.
"Take me," Paul begged. "Make love to me."
Pulling back, Dean gave Paul his most winning grin, a grin that promised he would get everything he wanted. Only, because this was a dream, the skin of the fruit had somehow made its way into Dean's mouth, filling the space between his teeth and his lips. It was a silly, fun, orange rind smile.
Dean awoke with a small, curt moan. And also with an erection.
He smiled to himself in the dark. Dean would take that kind of dream over the Apocalypse dreams any night. He couldn't wait to see Paul again.
Maybe on the way back to Boston, Dean would stop off at a store and buy some of the juiciest, messiest fruit he could think of. Oranges, he thought with a smirk. And maybe a nice, ripe peach.
Orange-Flavored Kiss (c) 2006 Demented Stuff/The Pleasure of the People
Miracles (c) 2003 Spyglass Entertainment & Touchstone Television
Supernatural (c) 2005+ Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland, & Warner Brothers/The CW Television
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: Ficlette
Rating: Parental Supervision Suggested for those under 13 for adult theme
Dates: Written August 2006
Word Count: 884
Summary: Dean dreams of sharing an orange with Paul. Oranges are juicy. Dean/Paul.
Beta Thanks: Thanks to KaijaWest, Meredevachon, and Heather L. for the betas.
Author's Notes: This story takes place after "Pavlovian Dog." I don't know where this kink comes from; I just find the idea of Paul and Dean getting all sticky and messy and needing to clean each other up really sexy. This ficlette was written in one night while watching episodes of "Dark Angel" with Jensen's character Alec in them. Such nice motivation...
It may have taken a couple hours, but Dean finally got to sleep. The only thing that turned off his mind enough to let him rest was thinking of light-hearted, amusing things. Like the fact that his brother was finally getting a good night's sleep, slumbering like a big, brown-haired rock, and Dean was the one having the nightmares this time and repeatedly waking Sam up. Dean grinned and closed his eyes, and fell into another dream of Paul Callan.
This one, though, wasn't about the Apocalypse. The two of them were sitting on Paul's bed, Paul dressed in his usual Metrosexual-wear of a blue dress shirt and slacks; he looked very handsome to Dean. This might've been the most unusual wet dream Dean had ever had, as he was stealing looks at Paul between concentrating on slicing up an orange with a pocket knife. Neither spoke at this point. The juice of the orange ran down Dean's fingers in narrow streams and got his palm wet and sticky. Paul watched with interest, a teasing smirk on his lips.
Dean removed one wedge of orange and put the rest on the bedside table. He started to eat it as Paul took Dean's other hand, brought it to his lips, and began to lick the juice of the orange off his palm, slowly, giving Dean a sultry gaze when he wasn't looking at the hand upon which he was nearly feasting. Dean watched him do this, eating his orange slice with an amused grin. Paul could be such a hot little tease. After the palm had been licked clean, Paul went to work on each finger. Some he just licked up and down, others he took into his mouth and sucked, bringing them in and out of his lips in an obvious imitation of oral sex. Dean was hypnotized watching that. Just the idea got him excited.
Dean reached over to get the orange again, cutting another slice. He put his tongue to the blade of the knife and carefully licked the juice off before putting the wedge of fruit to Paul's mouth. Paul bit into it roughly, deliberately causing the juice to run in small rivers and droplets down his chin. The half-eaten slice dropped to the bed as Dean leaned in quickly to lap up the juice. He sucked at Paul's chin, shadowed with the prospect of stubble, his tongue taking its time before slipping softly between Paul's lips and into his mouth. Paul eagerly received Dean's orange-flavored kiss.
They kissed without stopping for a minute. At least it felt like a minute; time in dreams passed strangely when compared to the well-ordered movement of reality. Paul's tongue sliding enticingly over Dean's. Lips pulling slightly at one another with gentle but desperate sucking pressure. The sound of their kisses amplified by the surreality of Dean's dream. He could have gone on like that for hours. Just this.
But Dean found his hands moving to cup Paul's jaw, which got more juice from the orange on his neck. Something about that seemed like a really good idea, and he reached for the orange again. Dean cut a slice to squeeze over Paul's neck, along the side, so that juice ran into the hollow of his throat and down his collarbone. Paul shivered and moaned, then let out a small laugh. Before any juice could stain his shirt, Dean undid the first few buttons and moved the shirt aside, almost off Paul's shoulder, then leaned in to slowly lick the juice, every drop, from his skin. Off his collarbone, from the hollow of his throat, along the curve of his neck up to his ear. Paul sighed with passion.
"Take me," Paul begged. "Make love to me."
Pulling back, Dean gave Paul his most winning grin, a grin that promised he would get everything he wanted. Only, because this was a dream, the skin of the fruit had somehow made its way into Dean's mouth, filling the space between his teeth and his lips. It was a silly, fun, orange rind smile.
Dean awoke with a small, curt moan. And also with an erection.
He smiled to himself in the dark. Dean would take that kind of dream over the Apocalypse dreams any night. He couldn't wait to see Paul again.
Maybe on the way back to Boston, Dean would stop off at a store and buy some of the juiciest, messiest fruit he could think of. Oranges, he thought with a smirk. And maybe a nice, ripe peach.
Orange-Flavored Kiss (c) 2006 Demented Stuff/The Pleasure of the People
Miracles (c) 2003 Spyglass Entertainment & Touchstone Television
Supernatural (c) 2005+ Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland, & Warner Brothers/The CW Television