Final gift for extraonions
Title: Pray It's Indigestion
Author: franzeska
Pairing/Rating: PG; Dean/Dean's unfortunate imagination
Spoilers: S2 finale, minor S3, Bad Day at Black Rock
Length: 500 words
Summary: Maybe it was the onions...
"God damn it!" Dean slammed his fist down on the dashboard. It was the third time he'd had the vision that day. Well, ok, maybe not a vision exactly--more like a daydream. And, ok, maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to let his mind wander a little sometimes. Like, say, when they had a seriously fine waitress and Sam was lecturing him about something. But right now he was parked at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with not a waitress in sight and Sam had wandered off to take a leak.
It was a shitty little rest stop too, the kind where the bathroom lights don't work and the stall doors are half off, so any creepy freak who walks in after you can get an eyeful. The kind where teenage runaways end up on their knees in the corner, blowing some greasy trucker for money. Maybe he should warn Sam. Maybe he should just go in and make sure he was ok... Dean's mind started to wander again.
"God damn it!" He was seriously going insane. He'd had the first one at night, so he'd chalked it up to the chili dog or maybe to all those extra onions on that burger, but the freaky dreams about Sam hadn't stopped there. They'd started happening during the day, and they were getting more frequent. And it wasn't like they were doing anything for him either. "If I'm going to have creepy wet dreams, could they at least be hot?" he asked. He figured there probably wasn't anyone listening though.
That night, he had a dream about blowing Sam while Bella did him from behind with a strap-on. It really, really wasn't an improvement.
---
Chicks, guys, jerking of more, jerking off less: nothing helped. Every time he was cruising down an open highway or staring into space or sleeping, he got another blast of psycho porn. The incest was bad enough, but it got weirder than that. He'd have understood vampires (hell, even Gordon), but the dreams started featuring all kinds of supernatural monsters. All the ones they'd gone after, in fact, and they'd fought some things that... well...
"Oh, that was so wrong," he said. The sheets were sticking to him, but that was mostly because the last dream had woken him up in a cold sweat.
"Dean?" Sam was watching him from across the motel room.
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep." Yes, he was seriously going nuts. On the bright side, it clearly wasn't his diet. Tomorrow, he decided, was another bacon cheeseburger breakfast day.
---
"Oh man, that one with the wendigo was sheer genius," said Andy. He poured himself another glass of champagne.
"I couldn't have done it without you, my friend," said the Trickster. "I've got the brains, you've got the looks..."
Andy smiled and touched his temples. Several miles away, Dean began humming along with the Pet Shop Boys. Sam pulled a pillow over his head.
Author: franzeska
Pairing/Rating: PG; Dean/Dean's unfortunate imagination
Spoilers: S2 finale, minor S3, Bad Day at Black Rock
Length: 500 words
Summary: Maybe it was the onions...
"God damn it!" Dean slammed his fist down on the dashboard. It was the third time he'd had the vision that day. Well, ok, maybe not a vision exactly--more like a daydream. And, ok, maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to let his mind wander a little sometimes. Like, say, when they had a seriously fine waitress and Sam was lecturing him about something. But right now he was parked at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with not a waitress in sight and Sam had wandered off to take a leak.
It was a shitty little rest stop too, the kind where the bathroom lights don't work and the stall doors are half off, so any creepy freak who walks in after you can get an eyeful. The kind where teenage runaways end up on their knees in the corner, blowing some greasy trucker for money. Maybe he should warn Sam. Maybe he should just go in and make sure he was ok... Dean's mind started to wander again.
"God damn it!" He was seriously going insane. He'd had the first one at night, so he'd chalked it up to the chili dog or maybe to all those extra onions on that burger, but the freaky dreams about Sam hadn't stopped there. They'd started happening during the day, and they were getting more frequent. And it wasn't like they were doing anything for him either. "If I'm going to have creepy wet dreams, could they at least be hot?" he asked. He figured there probably wasn't anyone listening though.
That night, he had a dream about blowing Sam while Bella did him from behind with a strap-on. It really, really wasn't an improvement.
---
Chicks, guys, jerking of more, jerking off less: nothing helped. Every time he was cruising down an open highway or staring into space or sleeping, he got another blast of psycho porn. The incest was bad enough, but it got weirder than that. He'd have understood vampires (hell, even Gordon), but the dreams started featuring all kinds of supernatural monsters. All the ones they'd gone after, in fact, and they'd fought some things that... well...
"Oh, that was so wrong," he said. The sheets were sticking to him, but that was mostly because the last dream had woken him up in a cold sweat.
"Dean?" Sam was watching him from across the motel room.
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep." Yes, he was seriously going nuts. On the bright side, it clearly wasn't his diet. Tomorrow, he decided, was another bacon cheeseburger breakfast day.
---
"Oh man, that one with the wendigo was sheer genius," said Andy. He poured himself another glass of champagne.
"I couldn't have done it without you, my friend," said the Trickster. "I've got the brains, you've got the looks..."
Andy smiled and touched his temples. Several miles away, Dean began humming along with the Pet Shop Boys. Sam pulled a pillow over his head.