(no subject)
I think I might change my Big Bang project and do Sam/Dean instead. Recently someone on my friendslist (sorry, forgot who it was) said that most of the fandom had seemed to move into either Dean/Castiel or RPS. And then I noticed that it was true! Doing the meme below I noticed that I have two very short WIPs, only beginnings, really, that I would really like to write, and they would maybe make a nice mix thrown together.
Now, because you know I love to go through my unfinished stuff and feel guilty that it is still unfinished: Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as youwant to pick). No context, no explanations. No more than one sentence!
His free hand jerked, palm slapping against the glass as Jared mouthed the thin skin behind his ear.
They make out quietly against the counter till Jared pulls back and knocks their foreheads together.
Jared slurped loudly as he took his first few sips and generally made noises that weren't appropriate for drinking coffee.
Jensen isn't small like Frankie, or scared of cats, he's just scared of journalists.
There might have been things that were hotter than watching Jeff teaching Jared how to give a proper blowjob, but Jensen had certainly never seen them.
Sucking dick was a lot like swallowing a knife, only less dangerous.
Jared fishes a pen out of his pocket and scribbles his address on Jensen's palm.
Secretly Jensen thought Jared had made them get tested just so he could get them as filthy as he wanted to without worrying where all their bodily fluids ended up.
What he does do is straddle Chris on the couch as soon as Steve's halfway out the door, and they make out like teenagers, Jensen ready to spontaneously combust inside his own pants if Chris doesn't put his hand back there right about the fuck now.
"I don't know how to date," Jensen repeated.
"I do not want to have sex with O-Town," Lance said sharply.
Who walks around during the day with circles under his eyes and only comes alive at night, when Chris fucks him hard into the mattress, scratching and begging and clinging.
The couch sagged down more than a normal couch should, and no matter how much Lance tried to stay on his side, he ended up squished against Chris in the middle.
If they said his name one more time, Lance thought, he was going to scream.
He switches arms for the fourth scratch, and by the fifth, you're kissing him deeply, leaning forward to catch his mouth.
Justin rubs the skin over the hidden bar between the studs, too hard, and Lance lets a small "ah" escape his mouth.
He sees masks hanging on the walls, collars, leashes and whips; there's a rack full of leather harnesses and a table with gags in various shapes.
He would've loved to stay there longer, for hours, decades even; it was nice and hot and he could've jerked off in peace, but he feared what Izzy and Justin might tell the poor interviewer if Lance wasn't there to keep them in line.
JC started kissing his neck in the elevator, and Dean didn’t do a thing to stop him.
He hasn't been able to sleep, not really, just lay in bed each night listening to Sam breathing across the room and waiting for exhaustion to overtake him until Sam finally got up and climbed into bed with Dean.
"It's not some alien crap, is it?" Dean says, glancing over, and Sam sighs.
"Well, watcha gonna do, Sammy, hunting doesn't exactly come full-ride."
It had taken Sam three tries to wrestle the new diaper on.
Now, because you know I love to go through my unfinished stuff and feel guilty that it is still unfinished: Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as youwant to pick). No context, no explanations. No more than one sentence!
His free hand jerked, palm slapping against the glass as Jared mouthed the thin skin behind his ear.
They make out quietly against the counter till Jared pulls back and knocks their foreheads together.
Jared slurped loudly as he took his first few sips and generally made noises that weren't appropriate for drinking coffee.
Jensen isn't small like Frankie, or scared of cats, he's just scared of journalists.
There might have been things that were hotter than watching Jeff teaching Jared how to give a proper blowjob, but Jensen had certainly never seen them.
Sucking dick was a lot like swallowing a knife, only less dangerous.
Jared fishes a pen out of his pocket and scribbles his address on Jensen's palm.
Secretly Jensen thought Jared had made them get tested just so he could get them as filthy as he wanted to without worrying where all their bodily fluids ended up.
What he does do is straddle Chris on the couch as soon as Steve's halfway out the door, and they make out like teenagers, Jensen ready to spontaneously combust inside his own pants if Chris doesn't put his hand back there right about the fuck now.
"I don't know how to date," Jensen repeated.
"I do not want to have sex with O-Town," Lance said sharply.
Who walks around during the day with circles under his eyes and only comes alive at night, when Chris fucks him hard into the mattress, scratching and begging and clinging.
The couch sagged down more than a normal couch should, and no matter how much Lance tried to stay on his side, he ended up squished against Chris in the middle.
If they said his name one more time, Lance thought, he was going to scream.
He switches arms for the fourth scratch, and by the fifth, you're kissing him deeply, leaning forward to catch his mouth.
Justin rubs the skin over the hidden bar between the studs, too hard, and Lance lets a small "ah" escape his mouth.
He sees masks hanging on the walls, collars, leashes and whips; there's a rack full of leather harnesses and a table with gags in various shapes.
He would've loved to stay there longer, for hours, decades even; it was nice and hot and he could've jerked off in peace, but he feared what Izzy and Justin might tell the poor interviewer if Lance wasn't there to keep them in line.
JC started kissing his neck in the elevator, and Dean didn’t do a thing to stop him.
He hasn't been able to sleep, not really, just lay in bed each night listening to Sam breathing across the room and waiting for exhaustion to overtake him until Sam finally got up and climbed into bed with Dean.
"It's not some alien crap, is it?" Dean says, glancing over, and Sam sighs.
"Well, watcha gonna do, Sammy, hunting doesn't exactly come full-ride."
It had taken Sam three tries to wrestle the new diaper on.