(no subject)
Gay Chicken
Sam/Dean, spoilers to 501
Dean figured that once the apocalypse was over, the books would stop. Their destiny was done, right? Chuck didn't need to keep channeling them.
"Prophets record the entire lives of saints, Dean," says Cas patiently.
Sam thumbs through Yellow Fever. "Didn't he start when we were in our twenties?" he asks absently.
"Storytelling mediums have changed somewhat," Cas admits. "But as long as the two of you are still fighting against the forces of darkness, Chuck will continue to tell your story."
Sam chuckles at something he reads, and Dean sinks lower into his chair, glowering.
"This fucking sucks."
*
It starts off as Dean wanting to get a little revenge on Chuck. It's not his fault, or anything, but still. The guy's writing about them and getting cash from it, and he and Sam are still hustling pool and living out of motels.
He doesn't let it become a fully-formed thought, because then Chuck would hear it. He just decides that, yeah--he can do something.
*
Dean couldn't help admiring how good his brother looked today. He'd been thinking it more and more since they had defeated Lucifer. Something had changed between them. Dean growing to trust Sam again had blossomed into something more. His brother's long legs seemed to go on forever, his shoulders broad and strong, his--
Chuck blinks and stares.
"Wait, what?"
*
Dean drops an arm over Sam's shoulder, warm and familiar, and Sam finds himself stooping down a little to encourage it before he realizes it's weird.
In fact, Dean's been acting weird for a while--staring for too long, nudging Sam's foot under the table, and Sam still has no idea what the hell's going on with him.
"Dean," he says.
"Yeah?" asks Dean.
"What's, uh--" Sam stops. He's not sure how to bring this up. "You feelin' okay?"
"Yeah, fine," says Dean. He gives Sam a long look. "You got a little stubble coming in?"
"Uh. Yeah?" Sam says, rubbing his jaw. "Need a new razor."
"Think you look kind of hot like that," says Dean.
Sam splutters. Honest to god, he tries to talk and just fails.
Dean grins. "Come on, I'll buy you dinner."
Sam manages a weak, "Yeah."
*
Sam had never thought of his brother like this before, no matter how much people tried to convince him to. He knew the two of them were close, shared a connection that went beyond the level of friends, beyond brothers, and normal people couldn't understand them.
He'd never desired Dean so strongly, felt his brother's gaze on him, hot and wanting, the shiver of it moving down his spine straight into--
"Jesus Christ," says Chuck.
*
Dean grins as he sees the phone light up, Chuck's name on the caller ID.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Look, I can't publish you and your brother lusting after each other," says Chuck. "I mean, I guess I did, if you listen to Becky, but. If Sam's dick is getting hard with you looking at him, I cannot market this."
Dean blinks. "Sam?"
"Yes, your brother, and there isn't enough alcohol in the world--"
Dean hangs up.
*
"Sammy," said Dean. He was rattled from his conversation with Chuck. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
Sam looked up. "I've almost got us another hunt. Haunting out in Idaho--"
"Sam."
"What?"
"Chuck just called."
Sam blanched a little. There must have been some truth in what Chuck said--there always was. "Oh?" he asked, trying to sound cool. "What'd he want?"
"Told us incest isn't a big seller." Dean considered. "Except in his market, it totally is."
"He already knows how we feel about--"
"He said your dick was pretty in to it."
"You're the one who's--touching me! And staring! And telling me I'm hot!"
Dean had just wanted to annoy Chuck, but of course, he hadn't been able to tell Sam his plan. He hadn't even been able to think it.
"Yeah, but--not with my dick!"
Sam pushed his hand through his chestnut locks. "Look, it's just--it's natural, it's nothing, so just. Leave it alone, Dean."
Dean couldn't though. Maybe he'd been thinking about Sam too much, too hard, because if Sam wanted him, he wanted to take whatever he could have.
He brought his hand up to stroke over Sam's still-stubbled cheek.
"Maybe I don't want to," said Dean, leaning up and bringing his lips to Sam's.
"Omigod, Chuck, this is so good," Sera gushes. "I can't believe you're going here! It's so edgy! So brilliant! Could you maybe get one of them to cry?"
Chuck grits his teeth. "I'll see if I can work it in," he says. "Bye, Sera."
He stares at the computer. He managed to write in a fade to black, but he couldn't actually see one.
"Maybe I'll cry."
*
Hello,
You've wished to be warned of your FML story #875666 : Today, I got a full-color vision of two brothers having gay sex and my publisher thought the resulting story was the hottest thing I've ever written. FML.
Bad news: Your FML wasn't published on the website.
Don't be offended or annoyed with us.It was first submitted to the users who vote (hundreds of them!) on the submissions to help us to select the FMLs to be published on the website.
Maybe in a way, you're lucky... the majority of people seem to think that your life isn't as fucked as you thought it was (or they thought that your story was too trashy, too fake or poorly written... in which case, you really are one unlucky person - just kidding!). It can also be that a similar story has already been posted on the website, which is why it was turned down.
You can find more details on the selection system here:
http://www.fmylife.com/faq
Try posting another day, with another story! Thanks nevertheless for your contribution.
Sam/Dean, spoilers to 501
Dean figured that once the apocalypse was over, the books would stop. Their destiny was done, right? Chuck didn't need to keep channeling them.
"Prophets record the entire lives of saints, Dean," says Cas patiently.
Sam thumbs through Yellow Fever. "Didn't he start when we were in our twenties?" he asks absently.
"Storytelling mediums have changed somewhat," Cas admits. "But as long as the two of you are still fighting against the forces of darkness, Chuck will continue to tell your story."
Sam chuckles at something he reads, and Dean sinks lower into his chair, glowering.
"This fucking sucks."
*
It starts off as Dean wanting to get a little revenge on Chuck. It's not his fault, or anything, but still. The guy's writing about them and getting cash from it, and he and Sam are still hustling pool and living out of motels.
He doesn't let it become a fully-formed thought, because then Chuck would hear it. He just decides that, yeah--he can do something.
*
Dean couldn't help admiring how good his brother looked today. He'd been thinking it more and more since they had defeated Lucifer. Something had changed between them. Dean growing to trust Sam again had blossomed into something more. His brother's long legs seemed to go on forever, his shoulders broad and strong, his--
Chuck blinks and stares.
"Wait, what?"
*
Dean drops an arm over Sam's shoulder, warm and familiar, and Sam finds himself stooping down a little to encourage it before he realizes it's weird.
In fact, Dean's been acting weird for a while--staring for too long, nudging Sam's foot under the table, and Sam still has no idea what the hell's going on with him.
"Dean," he says.
"Yeah?" asks Dean.
"What's, uh--" Sam stops. He's not sure how to bring this up. "You feelin' okay?"
"Yeah, fine," says Dean. He gives Sam a long look. "You got a little stubble coming in?"
"Uh. Yeah?" Sam says, rubbing his jaw. "Need a new razor."
"Think you look kind of hot like that," says Dean.
Sam splutters. Honest to god, he tries to talk and just fails.
Dean grins. "Come on, I'll buy you dinner."
Sam manages a weak, "Yeah."
*
Sam had never thought of his brother like this before, no matter how much people tried to convince him to. He knew the two of them were close, shared a connection that went beyond the level of friends, beyond brothers, and normal people couldn't understand them.
He'd never desired Dean so strongly, felt his brother's gaze on him, hot and wanting, the shiver of it moving down his spine straight into--
"Jesus Christ," says Chuck.
*
Dean grins as he sees the phone light up, Chuck's name on the caller ID.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Look, I can't publish you and your brother lusting after each other," says Chuck. "I mean, I guess I did, if you listen to Becky, but. If Sam's dick is getting hard with you looking at him, I cannot market this."
Dean blinks. "Sam?"
"Yes, your brother, and there isn't enough alcohol in the world--"
Dean hangs up.
*
"Sammy," said Dean. He was rattled from his conversation with Chuck. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
Sam looked up. "I've almost got us another hunt. Haunting out in Idaho--"
"Sam."
"What?"
"Chuck just called."
Sam blanched a little. There must have been some truth in what Chuck said--there always was. "Oh?" he asked, trying to sound cool. "What'd he want?"
"Told us incest isn't a big seller." Dean considered. "Except in his market, it totally is."
"He already knows how we feel about--"
"He said your dick was pretty in to it."
"You're the one who's--touching me! And staring! And telling me I'm hot!"
Dean had just wanted to annoy Chuck, but of course, he hadn't been able to tell Sam his plan. He hadn't even been able to think it.
"Yeah, but--not with my dick!"
Sam pushed his hand through his chestnut locks. "Look, it's just--it's natural, it's nothing, so just. Leave it alone, Dean."
Dean couldn't though. Maybe he'd been thinking about Sam too much, too hard, because if Sam wanted him, he wanted to take whatever he could have.
He brought his hand up to stroke over Sam's still-stubbled cheek.
"Maybe I don't want to," said Dean, leaning up and bringing his lips to Sam's.
"Omigod, Chuck, this is so good," Sera gushes. "I can't believe you're going here! It's so edgy! So brilliant! Could you maybe get one of them to cry?"
Chuck grits his teeth. "I'll see if I can work it in," he says. "Bye, Sera."
He stares at the computer. He managed to write in a fade to black, but he couldn't actually see one.
"Maybe I'll cry."
*
Hello,
You've wished to be warned of your FML story #875666 : Today, I got a full-color vision of two brothers having gay sex and my publisher thought the resulting story was the hottest thing I've ever written. FML.
Bad news: Your FML wasn't published on the website.
Don't be offended or annoyed with us.It was first submitted to the users who vote (hundreds of them!) on the submissions to help us to select the FMLs to be published on the website.
Maybe in a way, you're lucky... the majority of people seem to think that your life isn't as fucked as you thought it was (or they thought that your story was too trashy, too fake or poorly written... in which case, you really are one unlucky person - just kidding!). It can also be that a similar story has already been posted on the website, which is why it was turned down.
You can find more details on the selection system here:
http://www.fmylife.com/faq
Try posting another day, with another story! Thanks nevertheless for your contribution.