Prompt Three: The Dice
Title: Pink Fuzzy Dice
Author:
queeniegalore
Pairing: Sam/Dean i
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 934
Prompt used: The dice
Summery: Dean tells Sam what he likes in a girl. Sam is amused. PURE FREAKIN' FLUFF.
It was a long damn drive, and Dean had decided to fill every second of it with pointless chatter while Sam stared out the window and tried to ignore him. It wasn’t going well.
“…I gotta say, to start with, hair colour doesn’t matter. Blonde, brunette, whatever, man. If I can get my hands on a redhead, it’s another story…but nah, hair doesn’t count for anything. You gotta look at their faces, you know? And their bodies, and how they carry themselves…
I like my women pretty, but not trying too hard. I mean, they should look like they’re trying to score, not trying to win the Miss Universe contest, you know? …No, I’m serious here. High maintenance chicks suck, and the package is never as good as the promise. Padded bras are always bad. Matching underwear is hot, but pushing it… I like a girl whose underwear looks like it matches, until you, like, look closely at the lace.”
Sam had to laugh at this point. That was too much. “You don’t look at the lace on their panties, Dean.”
Dean shot him a wounded look. “Jeez, Sammy, what kinda guy do you think I am?”
“The kinda guy who has their underwear hanging off the lampshade in point three seconds?”
“Man, you don’t give me enough credit. A girl lets you get her down to her underwear, you appreciate it. Shit. You ever gone down on a girl through her pantie-”
“Dean!”
“Well it works, bit of advice there for ya, kiddo. Now. Where was I?”
Sam was laughing too much to answer, so Dean just carried right on.
“Ok, so panties don’t match, but colour is important. Black lace or white cotton, man, those are your quality girls. My God, white cotton panties on a girl just about drives me nuts… Good stuff. G-strings are nice, but I’m not that big on ‘em-”
“You’re not?” Sam couldn’t let that one pass, either.
“Nah. I mean, shit, I’m not going to complain about ‘em,” he broke off to leer at his brother, who snorted, “But I like boy legs a lot. Gotta keep just a little bit of mystery sometimes. With lace and frills…shut the fuck up, Sammy, what are you laughing at…?”
Sam was gasping for air, leaning against the window of the car and slapping his knee. Dean glanced over at him, bemused, then shrugged and kept driving. Nothing wrong with a frill here and there. Shit.
They picked the conversation back up over dinner.
“I like a girl who can eat a steak and fries, too,” Dean said with his mouth full, gesturing with his fork. “Fuck those chicks who eat…who eat like, you, Sam. The fuck’s a salad gonna do? Girl needs to have a bit of meat on her bones.”
Sam primly chewed and swallowed his lettuce leaf before answering. “No, I’m not buying that. The girls you go home with are tiny.”
“Bullshit,” Dean said bluntly, “I mean, they may be slim, but I don’t go in for stick figures. Whole point of having a woman is the curves, man. I love it when they’re so soft all over that you can just sink into them. I mean, those ultra toned and muscular girls can be fun if you want a fight-” Sam raised his eyebrows at that, “-but I’d prefer a few curves and soft bits any day, and twigs are right off my radar.”
“Ok,” Sam said, nodding sarcastically, “So you want a girl who’s pretty, but not too pretty, well presented, but not high maintenance, underwear that looks like it matches, but doesn’t, and a body that’s small but squishy? That all you’re after?”
Dean stared. “Dude. You haven’t even got to taste in cars and music yet.”
His brother buried his head in his hands. “Oh, my God…”
They were letting themselves back into the motel when Dean started up again.
“The chick’s car can’t be better than mine.”
“Of course not,” Sam replied, tossing the keys on one of the beds, “That would throw the Earth outta orbit.”
Dean ignored him. “I like a girl who drives a Beetle,” he mused, taking off his jacket and hanging over the back of a chair. “Girls who drive Beetles are hot.”
Sam decided not to go there; he just rolled his eyes and pulled some sweats out of his bag.
“No fuzzy dice, though, man those are tacky. Well, maybe pink ones.” Dean stripped down to his boxers and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
“Pink fuzzy dice?” Sam called in after him. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Yeah, I totally am. No dice anywhere. No pink seats. No stickers on the back that say ‘bad bitch’ or any of that crap.” He sauntered back into the bedroom. “Those things are lame. Just a sweet little car that she takes care of, with some classic rock playing and the windows down.” He pulled back the blankets on one of the beds and slipped in, linking his fingers behind his head and watching Sam go into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
“And sunglasses,” he added, raising his voice so his brother could hear him over the tap running. “She should be wearing sunglasses.”
Sam came back, looking at his brother in amusement, and climbed into bed.
“So. Today I’ve heard about every little thing you want in a girl, but what about guys? What do you like in a guy?”
Dean grinned and flicked off the lights before rolling over and kissing his brother. “You.”