!!! - CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS - !!! SPN -> Wincest Prompting Post // Feb 14 - March 1
NO NEW REQUESTS, BUT PLEASE WRITE FOR ANY PROMPTS THAT SPARKS AN IDEA!
THIS IS THE POST FOR WINCEST!
If your prompt includes more than one Winchester touching each other, this is where it goes. Slash, het, f/f, and anything else you can think of is all welcome and encouraged here! : )
Please try to fill out old prompts in addition to making ( Read more... )
THIS IS THE POST FOR WINCEST!
If your prompt includes more than one Winchester touching each other, this is where it goes. Slash, het, f/f, and anything else you can think of is all welcome and encouraged here! : )
Please try to fill out old prompts in addition to making ( Read more... )
"Dean," Sam pants into Dean's ear, and jerks his hips forward into Dean's hand.
"Sa-...ha-" Dean breathes, "CHOO!"
Sam feels the exhale of Dean's breath hit his chest just as Dean comes. Dean just leans forward against his chest and snuffles. He can still feel Dean's hand pulling him off, working twice as hard like he's trying to make up for the weirdness. Sam is caught in the awkward space between "eurgh" and "mmm" when he comes.
Dean is still letting out little sneezes like aftershocks, muffled in the fabric of Sam's shirt.
"Uh. Dean?"
"- fucking hate." Achoo! "not fair-" -choo! "-gotta be cursed" Dean mumbles out. Sam tries shaking his shoulder and looks around for tissues. Of course the crap motel doesn't supply any, or maybe they're in the bathroom or something. Sam is pretty used to sharing bodily fluids with Dean, but snot bring things to a whole new level. He hopes he'll never be ready for quite that level of intimacy, if that's what one would call it. He's burning this shirt as soon as he can detach his brother from his chest.
Finally Dean stops. He looks miserable, red eyes and red nose, and he's breathing through his mouth.
There's not really any slick way to broach the subject. "So about that."
Dean sniffles. "I hate my life. Life hates me." It comes out sounding more like I hade by libe. Libe ade me. Something clicks in Sam's mind.
"Has this happened before?"
"Yed."
"How long?"
"Dalla-" he snorts, "Tallahassee."
"That was two weeks ago!"
"I thought it was a coincidence." Dean thunks his head back down on Sam's chest.
"You pissed off a witch, didn't you?"
"Probably," Dean groans.
They drive back to Tallahassee with Dean in a foul mood the entire way. He won't even jerk off like this, and a Dean who hasn't cleaned the pipes at all in the past 24 hours is a bitchy Dean indeed. Sam sighs and tries to ignore it. "You brought this on yourself, you know."
"How was I supposed to know the kid at the pharmacy counter was friggin' witch?"
"You could try being nice to people in general."
"I'm plenty nice!" Dean swerves into the right lane to pass someone. "Frigging witches. Take away a man's right to blow off a little steam!"
"I don't think that technically counts as a right."
"I can't even jerk off, Sam. This is serious."
Sam has to agree, at least a little. That doesn't make it any less funny.
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