Super-sneezy Supernatural Meme!
I had a hard time deciding on a good title for this, as it's my first time ever trying one of these things. I was torn between: Baby's First SPN Comment Sneezefic Meme and What If tg Hosted an SPN Sneezefic Meme and No One Came?
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"Bless you," Sam and the interviewee say at the same time.
Dean wipes his palm on his suit pants, faltering as the good fabric registers against his skin but soldiering through. He smiles at the old woman and accepts the proffered tissue.
"I'm sorry," she says to Sam, "what was the question?"
Sam repeats it as Dean blows his nose, wipes it and snuffles and sneezes again.
"Goodness," the lady says, extending the Kleenex box again across the gap between their armchairs. "Have you got a cold?"
"Uh," says Dean. He flattens the fresh tissue bashfully against his knee, folds it in half and then in half again. He sniffles wetly. "I dunno. Maybe."
She narrows her eyes at him and nods knowingly. She turns to Sam. "Tea time, wouldn't you say?"
:::
"How you feelin'?" Sam asks in the car, loosening his tie. "Pharmacy run?"
"What?" Dean chuckles, chokes on some phlegm. "Oh, that in there?" He waves at the witness' house, backs them down the driveway. The garage door fades into the night. "I was just pretending."
Sam looks at him. "You were pretending to have a cold?"
Dean soberly returns his gaze. "Got her talking, didn't it?"
:::
"WIGKSH! XXSH!"
"Bless you twice."
"Thagks," Dean says, scrubbing a napkin under his red nose, "but those wered't real."
"No?"
"I thigk our waitress is sweet odd bee."
"She did bring you free soup."
Dean raises his brows, sweeps a palm through the air. "Exactly."
"So you're making her think you're sick so she'll bring you free stuff?"
"All part of by pladd."
"All part of your plan."
:::
"Hey," Sam says, swiveling his barstool toward Dean's. "Not tonight, okay?"
Dean's watching the pool table intently with glassy eyes. He spares Sam a frown. "These guys are perfect."
"No." Sam watches Dean's knee bob up and down. Dean chews absently on his thumbnail and sniffs. Sam sneaks a hand to the back of Dean's neck and finds it fever-hot. He scratches lightly at the base of Dean's skull. "Just no."
Dean bats him away, scowling. "You worried about my fake cold?"
Sam sighs. "I'm fake worried."
:::
In bed, Sam spoons up close behind Dean. He pats his brother's chest, rests a possessive palm on his belly. Dean shivers and blows his nose for the millionth time.
"You're a really good actor," Sam deadpans. "I'd swear you had the flu."
"I'm pretty convincing, right?" Dean sneezes, his stomach muscles crunching up. He sighs. "Wanna know my secret?"
Sam listens to him pulling fresh Kleenex from the box. "Uh huh."
"It's the Stanislavski system."
"The Stanislavski system," Sam repeats.
"More commonly known as method acting," Dean supplies. "I studied the flu. I learned everything there was to know about the flu. And then I... hh-HH-HEDGH-shuh!"
Sam rubs his chest to comfort him.
"And then I became the flu."
"You became the flu?"
"I'm living it. I'm breathing it. I am the flu."
Sam ruffles Dean's hair. He leans over and kisses his temple.
"What's your excuse?" Dean asks. "Why are you fondling me?"
"Oh," Sam says. "Uh. I'm improvising."
"Improvising?"
"Yeah." Sam pulls the blankets up higher and smoothes them against Dean's front. "You and your method acting gave me some really great material. I couldn't just block what you were doing. It would have been bad improv."
Dean rolls to face him. He turns bright eyes on Sam's, then nuzzles his chin. "That was some good improv, soldier."
Sam snorts. He strokes down Dean's warm back. Dean cuddles down, burying his face in Sam's neck.
"All in the name of acting," Sam tells the bedside lamp.
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You know I often smile when I read your ficlets, but this... this is a piece of genius. I was laughing out loud the whole time. And your writing is smart and the banter between the boys is perfect. And I know I'm kind of clingy right now but I LOVE YOU.
Also: Sam's hand on Dean's belly? Oooooooh yeah...
:)
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Yes, hands and bellies are good together, I totally agree!
Thank you!
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Sam's big hand on Dean's firm stomach, feeling the mucles contracting...There. I got a new kink. Thank you!
<3
<3
<3
Passe une bonne journée ma belle.
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and everything.
Much obliged, woman-friend. ♥ ♥
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HAKADEFJEKK!
OMG it's so good!
"Uh," says Dean. He flattens the fresh tissue bashfully against his knee, folds it in half and then in half again. He sniffles wetly. "I dunno. Maybe."
GUH.
Dean is super amazing at pretending, er, acting. And Sam is even better at playing along.
"All part of by pladd."
"All part of your plan."
Hahahahahaha
Dean rolls to face him. He turns bright eyes on Sam's, then nuzzles his chin. "That was some good improv, soldier."
Sam snorts. He strokes down Dean's warm back. Dean cuddles down, burying his face in Sam's neck.
"All in the name of acting," Sam tells the bedside lamp.
So much love for this.
Also, LUCKY ASS LAMP! *jealous of an inanimate object now* LOL
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I can perfectly envision how Dean says: "All part of by pladd." and it is like a slice of strawberry shortcake on a warm summer day. On a farm. With baby sheep.
And then he "became" the flu. Dean's denial has never been so adorable.
Thank you, fairy godmother!
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Your awesomeness cannot be contained.
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