PixCT: 03.04
It's that time again...
Fic
Slash (Dean/Sam)
Adult
~990 words
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
September 07-September 08
September 08-September 09
DruCT: 09.17
DruCT: 09.24
DruCT: 10.01
DruCT: 10.08
DruCT: 10.15
DruCT: 10.22
DruCT: 10.29
DruCT: 11.05
DruCT: 11.12
DruCT: 11.19
DruCT: 01.21
PixCT: 01.21
DruCT: 01.28
PixCT: 01.28
DruCT: 02.04
PixCT: 02.04
DruCT: 02.11
PixCT: 02.11
DruCT: 02.18
PixCT: 02.18
DruCT: 02.25
PixCT: 02.25
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 03.04
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~990 words
- - - - -
Pix’s Pic Pick
There was a party at the beach.
They slipped in, introduced themselves as friends of that one girl, can’t remember her name, but we had English class together back in high school, hated the teacher, remember her? Nods and smiles, and oh yeah, you look familiar, how you’ve been, man? Long time no see.
Sam took a beer, and Dean grabbed two. Settled down close to the bonfire which was too hot because it was summer but every good beach party like this one needed a bonfire, so it was just the way things went. Besides, it kept the mosquitoes away. Like little vampires, one of the girls laughed, and Sam smiled and thought of Gordon and how he had died, and Sam said, yeah, like vampires, of course, of course.
Marshmallows were roasted, brown crispy edges and gooey centers, and Dean fed Sam one, two, three, and more until they were oozing out of his mouth and onto his lips, and Dean didn’t give a damn and he kissed Sam right there with all the people around. Cupped the back of Sam’s head in a hand, ran his fingers through his hair, and kissed him and said, you taste good, Sammy, and he smirked when he pulled away.
Nobody paid attention, though, nobody cared. Nobody at the party knew anything about them, just two guys passing through, making conversation about nothing and everything all in one. These were guys who could talk about stupid shit and spit out stuff straight from the Bible, quoting Latin when everybody knew that Latin was so dead that it was almost pointless to take in college, pointless to study and worry about unless you really needed it for your major, but yet, these two guys, they knew it and they talked the talk. Talked the Latin talk anyway.
The night rolled in on the waves, and the beer flowed, and the girls started laughing more and the guys started showing off more, all cocksure and giddy, carefree, no need to worry, and when Dean looked to Sam, he saw something broken and bitter hiding behind his tight smile. All those years in California, all the years before Jess’ death and Dad’s death and Sam's death and Dean's own death, all those goddamn deaths, and the years before the apocalypse and angels and the devil himself. In all those years, those years of safety and warmth, maybe this was what Sam had, Dean thought, these parties and these friends, the sand and the water, the blissful idea that you could stay out all night on the beach and not worry about blood and death, monsters and curses.
The guys were taking off their clothes now, stripping off their shirts and pants, and running down the beach, soft cocks slapping against their legs, as the girls chased after them, high-pitched, excited laughter scattering around them. Some game that Dean didn’t understand and Sam didn’t want to because this wasn’t their world, no matter how easily the two of them had slipped into it with their fake words and smiles, no matter how much they might want it to be at times. There were demons and angels waiting for them, for Dean and Sam, not parties and good times. Not this. Never this. Not for real. Not for good.
Dean rose to his feet, extended his hand, and pulled Sam up, staring at each other, and Dean smiled and said, if you want to leave, we can, if it’s not fun anymore, got some free beer out of the deal, that can be enough. Sam looked over his shoulder to where the kids were playing, teasing each other, and when he looked back to Dean, he had a sad smile on his face, and he shook his head. No, no, we can stay a bit longer. We might never get this again, right? Enjoy it while it lasts.
They peeled off their clothes, stashed them behind a mound of beach grass at the base of the dune, and no one was paying them any attention, because they were the invisible men now, seen only by each other. They walked out to the shore where the water was rolling in, inky black in the night, and they left their footprints behind in the sand, two sets of prints scattered among so many others. At the edge of the water, looking out to where the sky and water met, Dean said, what do you think will happen if we swim all night, just swim till we reach that horizon, and Sam shrugged and said, not like we have anything to lose, but they both knew they couldn’t outswim the devil.
Into the water they went, cold shock at first and then warmer as they grew accustomed to it, and they pushed away from the shore, the water rising past their knees until it was up to their shoulders. Farther out they moved until Dean could barely touch ground anymore and Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling him to his chest, Dean’s feet bumping against Sam’s shins beneath the water.
You think the angels are watching? Sam asked, his forehead pressed against Dean’s, their eyes closed, listening only to the sounds of the water around them and the breathing of one another. Fuck them if they are, Dean whispered, I say we put on a good show for them.
Sam murmured, shifted, lifted Dean enough so that he could wrap his legs around Sam’s waist, and Dean let the water and Sam hold him, the two of them gently bobbing in the vast lake.
Don’t let me go, asshole, Dean said, his lips brushing against Sam’s cheek when he spoke. Sam smiled, the two of them in the endless water beneath the stars, and he didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to tell Dean that he wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go so long as Dean held on to him.
End
“Let’s Talk about Spaceships” by Say Hi to Your Mom and "Breathe Me" by Sia
Fic
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
September 07-September 08
September 08-September 09
DruCT: 09.17
DruCT: 09.24
DruCT: 10.01
DruCT: 10.08
DruCT: 10.15
DruCT: 10.22
DruCT: 10.29
DruCT: 11.05
DruCT: 11.12
DruCT: 11.19
DruCT: 01.21
PixCT: 01.21
DruCT: 01.28
PixCT: 01.28
DruCT: 02.04
PixCT: 02.04
DruCT: 02.11
PixCT: 02.11
DruCT: 02.18
PixCT: 02.18
DruCT: 02.25
PixCT: 02.25
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 03.04
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~990 words
- - - - -
Pix’s Pic Pick
There was a party at the beach.
They slipped in, introduced themselves as friends of that one girl, can’t remember her name, but we had English class together back in high school, hated the teacher, remember her? Nods and smiles, and oh yeah, you look familiar, how you’ve been, man? Long time no see.
Sam took a beer, and Dean grabbed two. Settled down close to the bonfire which was too hot because it was summer but every good beach party like this one needed a bonfire, so it was just the way things went. Besides, it kept the mosquitoes away. Like little vampires, one of the girls laughed, and Sam smiled and thought of Gordon and how he had died, and Sam said, yeah, like vampires, of course, of course.
Marshmallows were roasted, brown crispy edges and gooey centers, and Dean fed Sam one, two, three, and more until they were oozing out of his mouth and onto his lips, and Dean didn’t give a damn and he kissed Sam right there with all the people around. Cupped the back of Sam’s head in a hand, ran his fingers through his hair, and kissed him and said, you taste good, Sammy, and he smirked when he pulled away.
Nobody paid attention, though, nobody cared. Nobody at the party knew anything about them, just two guys passing through, making conversation about nothing and everything all in one. These were guys who could talk about stupid shit and spit out stuff straight from the Bible, quoting Latin when everybody knew that Latin was so dead that it was almost pointless to take in college, pointless to study and worry about unless you really needed it for your major, but yet, these two guys, they knew it and they talked the talk. Talked the Latin talk anyway.
The night rolled in on the waves, and the beer flowed, and the girls started laughing more and the guys started showing off more, all cocksure and giddy, carefree, no need to worry, and when Dean looked to Sam, he saw something broken and bitter hiding behind his tight smile. All those years in California, all the years before Jess’ death and Dad’s death and Sam's death and Dean's own death, all those goddamn deaths, and the years before the apocalypse and angels and the devil himself. In all those years, those years of safety and warmth, maybe this was what Sam had, Dean thought, these parties and these friends, the sand and the water, the blissful idea that you could stay out all night on the beach and not worry about blood and death, monsters and curses.
The guys were taking off their clothes now, stripping off their shirts and pants, and running down the beach, soft cocks slapping against their legs, as the girls chased after them, high-pitched, excited laughter scattering around them. Some game that Dean didn’t understand and Sam didn’t want to because this wasn’t their world, no matter how easily the two of them had slipped into it with their fake words and smiles, no matter how much they might want it to be at times. There were demons and angels waiting for them, for Dean and Sam, not parties and good times. Not this. Never this. Not for real. Not for good.
Dean rose to his feet, extended his hand, and pulled Sam up, staring at each other, and Dean smiled and said, if you want to leave, we can, if it’s not fun anymore, got some free beer out of the deal, that can be enough. Sam looked over his shoulder to where the kids were playing, teasing each other, and when he looked back to Dean, he had a sad smile on his face, and he shook his head. No, no, we can stay a bit longer. We might never get this again, right? Enjoy it while it lasts.
They peeled off their clothes, stashed them behind a mound of beach grass at the base of the dune, and no one was paying them any attention, because they were the invisible men now, seen only by each other. They walked out to the shore where the water was rolling in, inky black in the night, and they left their footprints behind in the sand, two sets of prints scattered among so many others. At the edge of the water, looking out to where the sky and water met, Dean said, what do you think will happen if we swim all night, just swim till we reach that horizon, and Sam shrugged and said, not like we have anything to lose, but they both knew they couldn’t outswim the devil.
Into the water they went, cold shock at first and then warmer as they grew accustomed to it, and they pushed away from the shore, the water rising past their knees until it was up to their shoulders. Farther out they moved until Dean could barely touch ground anymore and Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling him to his chest, Dean’s feet bumping against Sam’s shins beneath the water.
You think the angels are watching? Sam asked, his forehead pressed against Dean’s, their eyes closed, listening only to the sounds of the water around them and the breathing of one another. Fuck them if they are, Dean whispered, I say we put on a good show for them.
Sam murmured, shifted, lifted Dean enough so that he could wrap his legs around Sam’s waist, and Dean let the water and Sam hold him, the two of them gently bobbing in the vast lake.
Don’t let me go, asshole, Dean said, his lips brushing against Sam’s cheek when he spoke. Sam smiled, the two of them in the endless water beneath the stars, and he didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to tell Dean that he wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go so long as Dean held on to him.
End
“Let’s Talk about Spaceships” by Say Hi to Your Mom and "Breathe Me" by Sia