Fic: Best Hunt Clean-Up *Ever* | SPN | Sam/Dean | R | 1/1
Title: Best Hunt Clean-Up *Ever*
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,244
Prompt: For the lovely tiptoe39, on the occasion of her birthday (very, VERY belated): Dirty boys after a hunt need cleaning up. For whatever reason they run into a gym that's closed for the night, with those big communal showers. Completely empty. Cue horseplay, spraying water everywhere, and whatever else you feel like putting in there.; For hc_bingo: Bites; For kissbingo: Body: Back
Summary: After a really dirty hunt, Sam and Dean find salvation in the form of a Golds Gym and a Dollar General.
Disclaimer: Kripke and WB own everything. If I owned them, they'd have to take the show to cable!
Author's Notes: Quite possibly the latest b-day fic EVER, but it's done! \O/ This is 100% canon-free schmoopy pseudo-crack. Well, except for the fairies (and that's saying A LOT!). Also, the Golds Gym/Dollar General combo will make a lot more sense to those of you in the eastern/southeastern US. (Seriously, those things are EVERYWHERE. O_O)
Best Hunt Clean-Up Ever
Trudging out of the woods at somewhere near two a.m. and emerging next to a two-lane road with a small shopping center across the way, Dean swiped a hand over his face to clear off some of the gunk starting to dry there, and tried to take stock of their surroundings. They definitely hadn't gone in after the goblin from here. Fuck.
Sam drew up beside him after clearing the tree-line himself, and whipped his head around. “Dean, where's the car?”
A sidelong look, and Dean huffed out a breath. “Probably where we left it, genius. Damn woods.”
“Okay,” Sam said slowly, grimacing slightly and planting his hands on his hips. “I guess we better start walking, then.”
Dean shook his head, though, and pointed across the road, feeling the need to get clean of the goblin guts and mud soaking through his pants and two shirts more urgently than the need to walk a few miles in the semi-darkness and sticky summer night air. “Shower and clean clothes first, dude,” he suggested. “Then we can find the car.”
Sam nodded, “Yeah. Thank God for Gold's Gym and Dollar General.”
“You said it,” Dean agreed, shifting against the wet cotton clinging to his aching shoulders. “Let's go.”
~*~*~*~
After raiding the Dollar General for clean clothes, getting into the gym next door was a piece of cake, both alarms so basic they could've been disarmed by a chimp with a screwdriver. The entire shopping center seemed to be deserted for the night, so Sam and Dean took their time getting back to the showers, scrounging for towels and toiletries along the way. They probably had a good three hours before the gym opened, so there was no hurry.
Properly supplied, they made a quick hunt for the lights in the locker room, and at last were able to get out of their gunky clothes.
Peeling off his shirts, Dean made a noise of disgust, winced at the squelching sound they made as they came off his skin. “Man, that's gross,” he complained to himself, dropping the offending clothing on the floor and sitting to take off his sodden boots.
“You're telling me,” Sam said from further down the bench, shimmying out of his soaked jeans. “I've got goblin yuck seeping into my shor-Dean!”
His head coming up at the shout of surprise, Dean caught Sam's wide-eyed expression and frowned. “What?”
“Dude, you're covered in bruises!” Kicking his jeans and shorts away, he got up and came over to his brother, examining with careful fingers the dark patches that Dean knew had to be spread across his shoulders. “How the hell did that happen?”
Dean just shrugged. “Little bastard kept biting at me. Held on like he was getting a piggy-back ride.”
Sam stared. “No he didn't. He was too busy running circles around us while I was shooting iron rounds at him.”
“Huh?” And then it hit him. “Aw, fuckin' fairies!” Dean spat, shrugging off Sam's touch and getting his own pants and shorts off to leave Sam standing there dumbfounded as he headed over to the showers. Of course there was more than one little shit out there. How he managed to miss that they'd been led to believe it was just the one, he'll never figure. He should've known, dammit.
With the water in the shower turned on full blast a moment later, heat soaking into his aching muscles, he didn't hear Sam come up behind him, either, and jumped at the touch on his shoulder, Sam's fingers kneading into a particularly painful bruise.
“Aw, man,” he groaned, barely suppressing a shiver as he leaned into the touch, his eyes slipping shut.
Sam had the audacity to laugh, low in his throat, before leaving him to turn on the adjacent shower head. “We'll pick up some bruise cream on the way out, 'kay?”
“Tease.”
And suddenly there were hands in his hair, massaging in shampoo to wash out the goblin gunk, and Sam laughed again. “You wish. Now hold still.”
Normally, he would've just done it himself, but it was just too tempting to let Sam go to town. “Yes, sir.”
Snorting, Sam washed Dean's hair with massaging strokes on his scalp-and oh, that felt damn good. “You're like freaking putty like this, you know that?” Sam said, voice lower.
“Oh yeah?” Dean snarked, letting Sam dip his head back into the water to wash out the shampoo. “You always did like Play-Doh.”
“Shut up. We could never afford Play-Doh.” Playfully shoving a bar of soap at Dean, Sam retreated to his own shower head and washed up, leaving his brother to finish up himself.
“Yeah, well,” Dean said, scrubbing off the goblin gunk. Making quick work of it, he tried to reach over his shoulder to get his upper back, but the movement was just too much, and he couldn't help the grunt that escaped him as his back twinged in protest.
Sam heaved a mock put-upon sigh and shut off his shower head, grabbing the soap back from Dean. “Do I have to do everything here?” he teased.
With a harsh laugh, Dean leaned against the shower wall with his palms. “Absolutely. Now get to scrubbing.”
“Bossy,” Sam smirked, setting in on Dean's shoulders, scrubbing as ordered.
The ache of the bruises, the bites, was worked out one by one then, Sam moving methodically over each one, and all Dean could manage was a pleased whine, low in his throat, in response.
When Sam laughed again, scrubbing around Dean's sides to his belly and lower, Dean's whine turned into a growl. “No fair.”
“Totally fair,” Sam said, taking Dean in hand and stepping close behind him. “I'm not the one getting off on a shoulder rub.”
“No, you're the one getting off on giving the shoulder rub,” Dean shot back at his brother, wriggling back against him.
“Shut up, already. Just go with it,” Sam smiled, his lips tickling Dean's ear. He dropped a kiss on Dean's pulse point, stroking him firmly, and that was it, Dean was done for.
His entire body tightening, Dean was powerless against the wave of pleasure that washed over him as he came quickly, spasming and groaning with it.
Sam rolled his hips behind him, moving to grip Dean's hips and pull them tightly together, and in hardly any time, Dean felt the hot spurts of Sam's come on his lower back, squishing between them as Sam wrapped his arms around him and held tight.
Slowly recovering under the shower spray, Dean couldn't resist a smirk. “All that, and I'm covered in gunk again.”
“Bite me,” Sam groaned, kissing Dean's back lightly and maneuvering them to wash off their come.
“Bring it.” And feeling better at last, Dean let himself be manhandled and cleaned up again.
~*~*~*~
“You know,” he said when they were finally clean and dry, getting into new clothes, “I think we should plan more hunts this way. Always have a Golds Gym and a Dollar General close by. It's a lot easier than tracking shit into the Impala and back to a hotel. The free clothes and supplies don't hurt, either.”
Sam chuckled. “Says the man who got a free massage and hand job in the shower.”
With a grin, Dean finished stuffing their supplies into a duffel bag, and hefted it over his not-so-sore-anymore shoulder. “Just callin' it like I see it, Sammy. Best hunt clean-up ever.”
“You're impossible.”
“Yep.”
“C'mon, let's get out of here and try to find the car.”
“No argument here,” Dean said, starting toward the door. “I'm starving. We should find an all-night Mickey D's.”
To Dean's amusement, Sam only laughed again, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure.”
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,244
Prompt: For the lovely tiptoe39, on the occasion of her birthday (very, VERY belated): Dirty boys after a hunt need cleaning up. For whatever reason they run into a gym that's closed for the night, with those big communal showers. Completely empty. Cue horseplay, spraying water everywhere, and whatever else you feel like putting in there.; For hc_bingo: Bites; For kissbingo: Body: Back
Summary: After a really dirty hunt, Sam and Dean find salvation in the form of a Golds Gym and a Dollar General.
Disclaimer: Kripke and WB own everything. If I owned them, they'd have to take the show to cable!
Author's Notes: Quite possibly the latest b-day fic EVER, but it's done! \O/ This is 100% canon-free schmoopy pseudo-crack. Well, except for the fairies (and that's saying A LOT!). Also, the Golds Gym/Dollar General combo will make a lot more sense to those of you in the eastern/southeastern US. (Seriously, those things are EVERYWHERE. O_O)
Best Hunt Clean-Up Ever
Trudging out of the woods at somewhere near two a.m. and emerging next to a two-lane road with a small shopping center across the way, Dean swiped a hand over his face to clear off some of the gunk starting to dry there, and tried to take stock of their surroundings. They definitely hadn't gone in after the goblin from here. Fuck.
Sam drew up beside him after clearing the tree-line himself, and whipped his head around. “Dean, where's the car?”
A sidelong look, and Dean huffed out a breath. “Probably where we left it, genius. Damn woods.”
“Okay,” Sam said slowly, grimacing slightly and planting his hands on his hips. “I guess we better start walking, then.”
Dean shook his head, though, and pointed across the road, feeling the need to get clean of the goblin guts and mud soaking through his pants and two shirts more urgently than the need to walk a few miles in the semi-darkness and sticky summer night air. “Shower and clean clothes first, dude,” he suggested. “Then we can find the car.”
Sam nodded, “Yeah. Thank God for Gold's Gym and Dollar General.”
“You said it,” Dean agreed, shifting against the wet cotton clinging to his aching shoulders. “Let's go.”
~*~*~*~
After raiding the Dollar General for clean clothes, getting into the gym next door was a piece of cake, both alarms so basic they could've been disarmed by a chimp with a screwdriver. The entire shopping center seemed to be deserted for the night, so Sam and Dean took their time getting back to the showers, scrounging for towels and toiletries along the way. They probably had a good three hours before the gym opened, so there was no hurry.
Properly supplied, they made a quick hunt for the lights in the locker room, and at last were able to get out of their gunky clothes.
Peeling off his shirts, Dean made a noise of disgust, winced at the squelching sound they made as they came off his skin. “Man, that's gross,” he complained to himself, dropping the offending clothing on the floor and sitting to take off his sodden boots.
“You're telling me,” Sam said from further down the bench, shimmying out of his soaked jeans. “I've got goblin yuck seeping into my shor-Dean!”
His head coming up at the shout of surprise, Dean caught Sam's wide-eyed expression and frowned. “What?”
“Dude, you're covered in bruises!” Kicking his jeans and shorts away, he got up and came over to his brother, examining with careful fingers the dark patches that Dean knew had to be spread across his shoulders. “How the hell did that happen?”
Dean just shrugged. “Little bastard kept biting at me. Held on like he was getting a piggy-back ride.”
Sam stared. “No he didn't. He was too busy running circles around us while I was shooting iron rounds at him.”
“Huh?” And then it hit him. “Aw, fuckin' fairies!” Dean spat, shrugging off Sam's touch and getting his own pants and shorts off to leave Sam standing there dumbfounded as he headed over to the showers. Of course there was more than one little shit out there. How he managed to miss that they'd been led to believe it was just the one, he'll never figure. He should've known, dammit.
With the water in the shower turned on full blast a moment later, heat soaking into his aching muscles, he didn't hear Sam come up behind him, either, and jumped at the touch on his shoulder, Sam's fingers kneading into a particularly painful bruise.
“Aw, man,” he groaned, barely suppressing a shiver as he leaned into the touch, his eyes slipping shut.
Sam had the audacity to laugh, low in his throat, before leaving him to turn on the adjacent shower head. “We'll pick up some bruise cream on the way out, 'kay?”
“Tease.”
And suddenly there were hands in his hair, massaging in shampoo to wash out the goblin gunk, and Sam laughed again. “You wish. Now hold still.”
Normally, he would've just done it himself, but it was just too tempting to let Sam go to town. “Yes, sir.”
Snorting, Sam washed Dean's hair with massaging strokes on his scalp-and oh, that felt damn good. “You're like freaking putty like this, you know that?” Sam said, voice lower.
“Oh yeah?” Dean snarked, letting Sam dip his head back into the water to wash out the shampoo. “You always did like Play-Doh.”
“Shut up. We could never afford Play-Doh.” Playfully shoving a bar of soap at Dean, Sam retreated to his own shower head and washed up, leaving his brother to finish up himself.
“Yeah, well,” Dean said, scrubbing off the goblin gunk. Making quick work of it, he tried to reach over his shoulder to get his upper back, but the movement was just too much, and he couldn't help the grunt that escaped him as his back twinged in protest.
Sam heaved a mock put-upon sigh and shut off his shower head, grabbing the soap back from Dean. “Do I have to do everything here?” he teased.
With a harsh laugh, Dean leaned against the shower wall with his palms. “Absolutely. Now get to scrubbing.”
“Bossy,” Sam smirked, setting in on Dean's shoulders, scrubbing as ordered.
The ache of the bruises, the bites, was worked out one by one then, Sam moving methodically over each one, and all Dean could manage was a pleased whine, low in his throat, in response.
When Sam laughed again, scrubbing around Dean's sides to his belly and lower, Dean's whine turned into a growl. “No fair.”
“Totally fair,” Sam said, taking Dean in hand and stepping close behind him. “I'm not the one getting off on a shoulder rub.”
“No, you're the one getting off on giving the shoulder rub,” Dean shot back at his brother, wriggling back against him.
“Shut up, already. Just go with it,” Sam smiled, his lips tickling Dean's ear. He dropped a kiss on Dean's pulse point, stroking him firmly, and that was it, Dean was done for.
His entire body tightening, Dean was powerless against the wave of pleasure that washed over him as he came quickly, spasming and groaning with it.
Sam rolled his hips behind him, moving to grip Dean's hips and pull them tightly together, and in hardly any time, Dean felt the hot spurts of Sam's come on his lower back, squishing between them as Sam wrapped his arms around him and held tight.
Slowly recovering under the shower spray, Dean couldn't resist a smirk. “All that, and I'm covered in gunk again.”
“Bite me,” Sam groaned, kissing Dean's back lightly and maneuvering them to wash off their come.
“Bring it.” And feeling better at last, Dean let himself be manhandled and cleaned up again.
~*~*~*~
“You know,” he said when they were finally clean and dry, getting into new clothes, “I think we should plan more hunts this way. Always have a Golds Gym and a Dollar General close by. It's a lot easier than tracking shit into the Impala and back to a hotel. The free clothes and supplies don't hurt, either.”
Sam chuckled. “Says the man who got a free massage and hand job in the shower.”
With a grin, Dean finished stuffing their supplies into a duffel bag, and hefted it over his not-so-sore-anymore shoulder. “Just callin' it like I see it, Sammy. Best hunt clean-up ever.”
“You're impossible.”
“Yep.”
“C'mon, let's get out of here and try to find the car.”
“No argument here,” Dean said, starting toward the door. “I'm starving. We should find an all-night Mickey D's.”
To Dean's amusement, Sam only laughed again, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure.”
~*~*~*~