Wook attempts to be a good friend and ends up with this...
*prepares for shitloads of teasing*
Title: Dean's Rattle
Author: wook77
Pairing: Wincest
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG-13 for some rough snogging kissing
Wordcount: 879
Warnings: Present Tense. Incest. Also - Everything I know about SPN, I learned from anasuede's fanfiction.
Summary: There's a rattle in the Impala. Funny, there's a rattle elsewhere in Dean's life as well.
A/N: This is not one of my fandoms. I've never seen the show. I can't spell the actors' names. I don't know if this has been done before or not as I've read about........ 6 SPN fics, all by one author. If it's OOC, don't come crying to me. Written for my friend, anasuede to help the rattles in her own engine. Given a quick lookover by wendy.
The Impala is rattling and Dean's a bit worried though he doesn't really want to say anything. It's just that the car is his baby, as close to a baby as he wants to get, anyway. It's that the one time he mentioned the rattle, Sam tells him is a figment of his imagination but, Jesus Fucking Christ, he knows his car, knows it better than he knows himself. That rattle is an important sign of impending trouble. He knows it deep in his soul that if he doesn't fix that rattle, then they're going to end up on the side of the road, fucked up the ass and not in a good way.
The thought puts a smile on his face that's quickly wiped off by the sharp pain radiating from his knuckles where they just rapped against the crankshaft as his wrench slid loose. As he almost puts his oil and (now) blood-soaked hand into his mouth to suck on the bruising knuckles, he realizes that this is what he gets for thinking about Sam's ass when he should be concentrating on finding that fucking rattle.
He's not currently lying on the ground under the Impala to avoid Sam. He's faced skinwalkers and shapeshifters and demons and death, a little brother isn't going to send him ducking for cover. Cursing, he puts the wrench back onto the bolt and torques it a bit too hard. His knuckles rap against the crankshaft once more and this time, his curses become audible. He goes for as creative as he can as, "Mother fucking son of a goddamn pissing horse!" comes out of his mouth.
"Trouble?" Sam's voice comes from beside his feet and he's tempted to curse again. Instead, he snorts and raises the wrench once more. He's going to get this bolt off and then he's going to find the rattle and keep them from being stuck on the side of the road. He's also going to ignore Sam and that teasing tone he's using.
"Find it?" There's that tone again and Dean can't ignore it so he kicks out with his right booted foot, impacting solidly with Sam's ankle. This time, it's Sam cursing and Dean smirking. Dean likes it better this way. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"For the hell of it." It's true, after all. He did do it for the hell of it. He also did it to pay Sam back for kissing him in the bar last night and then slamming him up against the wall outside, snaking his hands into Dean's jeans and making him want like he hadn't wanted before. He did it because he has no fucking clue what's going on and he always knows what the fuck is going on.
"Right." The teasing tone is back and Dean's foot is shooting out again before he can control it. Maybe it's a nervous twitch, like people with Tourrette's like to curse, Dean likes to kick Sam. It works for him, anyway.
"What do you want, Sammy?" Finally, the bolt loosens and Dean is able to move on with the fixing of the car. It's about time; he's been under here for an hour.
"You." Sam shouldn't be allowed to use that sultry tone because it's always twisted him into knots. This time isn't any different as Dean's hand slides off the wrench and it drops, missing his head by an inch, possibly less.
"Christ!" Dean's hand hits the crankshaft for the third time in as many minutes. Pissed off, Dean rolls out from under the car and stands, all in one fluid motion. They're standing too close though it's Sam with his back to the car. "Get your ass off the hood."
"Make me." Those fucking lips curl and Dean wants to either punch him or kiss him, not sure which. Both have the same level of violence as he pushes forward, forcing Sam's legs apart and his ass solidly on the hood that he'd just been ordered to vacate.
"Off the fucking car, Sam." Dean's close enough to feel Sam's breath speed up.
"Make. Me." That whisper soft voice sends Dean over the edge. He decides that he's going to punish those lips for quirking in just that way and letting those words out. Dean puts his palms flat against Sam's chest and pushes hard.
Sam catches himself on his elbows, more skin touching the hood. Dean thrusts his hands into Sam's hair, fisting and pulling as he raises Sam off the hood. It's only when their lips are scant inches apart that Dean leans forward and kisses.
It's nothing like last night's need and want. This is all about ownership and Dean's saying that he's going to set the pace of anything in the future. Dean's trying to say that he doesn't appreciate that Sam took advantage of him (even though Dean was willing). The message isn't coming through though, not with Sam rolling his hips into Dean and Dean rolling back.
When he pulls back to breathe, Sam follows, latching his teeth onto Dean's bottom lip and mumbling, "Inside."
Dean nods, the teeth still tugging at his lip. The rattle in the Impala can wait until he gets the rattle in his head fixed.
Title: Dean's Rattle
Author: wook77
Pairing: Wincest
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG-13 for some rough snogging kissing
Wordcount: 879
Warnings: Present Tense. Incest. Also - Everything I know about SPN, I learned from anasuede's fanfiction.
Summary: There's a rattle in the Impala. Funny, there's a rattle elsewhere in Dean's life as well.
A/N: This is not one of my fandoms. I've never seen the show. I can't spell the actors' names. I don't know if this has been done before or not as I've read about........ 6 SPN fics, all by one author. If it's OOC, don't come crying to me. Written for my friend, anasuede to help the rattles in her own engine. Given a quick lookover by wendy.
The Impala is rattling and Dean's a bit worried though he doesn't really want to say anything. It's just that the car is his baby, as close to a baby as he wants to get, anyway. It's that the one time he mentioned the rattle, Sam tells him is a figment of his imagination but, Jesus Fucking Christ, he knows his car, knows it better than he knows himself. That rattle is an important sign of impending trouble. He knows it deep in his soul that if he doesn't fix that rattle, then they're going to end up on the side of the road, fucked up the ass and not in a good way.
The thought puts a smile on his face that's quickly wiped off by the sharp pain radiating from his knuckles where they just rapped against the crankshaft as his wrench slid loose. As he almost puts his oil and (now) blood-soaked hand into his mouth to suck on the bruising knuckles, he realizes that this is what he gets for thinking about Sam's ass when he should be concentrating on finding that fucking rattle.
He's not currently lying on the ground under the Impala to avoid Sam. He's faced skinwalkers and shapeshifters and demons and death, a little brother isn't going to send him ducking for cover. Cursing, he puts the wrench back onto the bolt and torques it a bit too hard. His knuckles rap against the crankshaft once more and this time, his curses become audible. He goes for as creative as he can as, "Mother fucking son of a goddamn pissing horse!" comes out of his mouth.
"Trouble?" Sam's voice comes from beside his feet and he's tempted to curse again. Instead, he snorts and raises the wrench once more. He's going to get this bolt off and then he's going to find the rattle and keep them from being stuck on the side of the road. He's also going to ignore Sam and that teasing tone he's using.
"Find it?" There's that tone again and Dean can't ignore it so he kicks out with his right booted foot, impacting solidly with Sam's ankle. This time, it's Sam cursing and Dean smirking. Dean likes it better this way. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"For the hell of it." It's true, after all. He did do it for the hell of it. He also did it to pay Sam back for kissing him in the bar last night and then slamming him up against the wall outside, snaking his hands into Dean's jeans and making him want like he hadn't wanted before. He did it because he has no fucking clue what's going on and he always knows what the fuck is going on.
"Right." The teasing tone is back and Dean's foot is shooting out again before he can control it. Maybe it's a nervous twitch, like people with Tourrette's like to curse, Dean likes to kick Sam. It works for him, anyway.
"What do you want, Sammy?" Finally, the bolt loosens and Dean is able to move on with the fixing of the car. It's about time; he's been under here for an hour.
"You." Sam shouldn't be allowed to use that sultry tone because it's always twisted him into knots. This time isn't any different as Dean's hand slides off the wrench and it drops, missing his head by an inch, possibly less.
"Christ!" Dean's hand hits the crankshaft for the third time in as many minutes. Pissed off, Dean rolls out from under the car and stands, all in one fluid motion. They're standing too close though it's Sam with his back to the car. "Get your ass off the hood."
"Make me." Those fucking lips curl and Dean wants to either punch him or kiss him, not sure which. Both have the same level of violence as he pushes forward, forcing Sam's legs apart and his ass solidly on the hood that he'd just been ordered to vacate.
"Off the fucking car, Sam." Dean's close enough to feel Sam's breath speed up.
"Make. Me." That whisper soft voice sends Dean over the edge. He decides that he's going to punish those lips for quirking in just that way and letting those words out. Dean puts his palms flat against Sam's chest and pushes hard.
Sam catches himself on his elbows, more skin touching the hood. Dean thrusts his hands into Sam's hair, fisting and pulling as he raises Sam off the hood. It's only when their lips are scant inches apart that Dean leans forward and kisses.
It's nothing like last night's need and want. This is all about ownership and Dean's saying that he's going to set the pace of anything in the future. Dean's trying to say that he doesn't appreciate that Sam took advantage of him (even though Dean was willing). The message isn't coming through though, not with Sam rolling his hips into Dean and Dean rolling back.
When he pulls back to breathe, Sam follows, latching his teeth onto Dean's bottom lip and mumbling, "Inside."
Dean nods, the teeth still tugging at his lip. The rattle in the Impala can wait until he gets the rattle in his head fixed.