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Prompt Response
Well, Dru, because yours is all Wincesty it gets its own little post over here.
You requested something related to the little red airplane icon and soap on a rope.
Well. I cheated. Remember all those informal memes you've been posting this week about pet names, hot spots and kinks? Yeah, I sort of stole some of your favorites and added them into the story. The lil red airplane doesn't get nearly as much storytime as it deserves.
Also, this is a "Pix tries to write sex without a beta" piece. You've been warned is all I'm saying...
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Even with limbs so weak, it feels like it’ll never enough, and Sam reaches for Dean again. “Dean,” he whispers, and Dean murmurs lazily in response.
Sam touches Dean’s face, runs his fingers over Dean’s forehead and down the nape of his neck where Sam has left bruises to claim as mine; Sam spreads his hands flat over Dean’s chest and abdomen with the come sticky wet and cooling to dry, but still Dean does not respond. Slowly, Sam touches Dean’s limp cock, runs his thumb over the head, and tugs a bit hesitantly.
“Sammy…c’mon…gimme a few more minutes,” Dean says with a sigh.
“You’ve had a few more minutes,” Sam replies. He keeps one hand on Dean’s cock, thumb tracing the sensitive slit at the top, and he moves his other hand to his own erection and jerks himself quickly, eagerly.
Dean rolls over, from the bed and out of twisted sheets that smell like spunk and sweat from the hours—days—with each other, and he makes his way to the bathroom. “I need a shower,” Dean mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the corner of his fist. Sam remains on the bed, watching his older brother’s ass as Dean walks into the bathroom. Dean may be ready to stop, but Sam’s not. Climbing out the bed, Sam heads to the bathroom where Dean’s left the door open and the water running hot. Already, billows of steam roll out from inside the room.
Sam pulls the curtain aside, and Dean looks over his shoulder as Sam steps under the shower with him. “It’s been a few more minutes,” Sam tells him. Dean says nothing as Sam comes to him and grabs Dean’s ass, pulling them together. Despite all his protests, Dean’s already hard against Sam’s abdomen, and eagerly, Sam snaps his hips up, sliding their cocks against each other.
“Sammy…” Dean breathes, closing his eyes as he reaches out a hand to steady himself against the back wall. His other hand fists itself in Sam’s hair as Sam thrusts up against Dean. Needing, wanting, cannot get his fill of his brother.
“C’mon, Dean, c’mon, I want…I want it again.”
The water above them is blasting hot, pounding against their sensitive skin, and Dean has his head tilted back, exposing his throat. Sam leans forward, sucking on the curve of Dean’s neck, tasting the water and Dean beneath his tongue.
Dean stumbles back a bit awkwardly as Sam pushes forward needing more, needing it harder and faster, and Sam pins Dean against the wall. No escaping now. Dean moans when Sam increases his pace and slips a finger, then two, between Dean’s legs, pressing inside him.
“I thought you wanted a few more minutes?” Sam whispers, trying to breathe, but he’s so close now that it’s hard to speak.
Dean’s caught between thrusting up alongside Sam’s cock and back onto Sam’s fingers. “If you stop,” Dean pants, “I’ll kill you…”
Sam chuckles, low and throaty. He presses another finger in with his other two and pushes forward. When Dean cries out, Sam knows he’s found it.
“Feel good?” Sam smirks breathlessly.
“Asshole,” Dean hisses.
Sam comes first with a low moan, and Dean breaks apart, curling into Sam, not long after. As they stand there, trying to catch their breath beneath the shower, Sam looks down at Dean. “So,” he asks, “you ready to take it to the next level?”
Dean shakes his head, water droplets falling in his eyes, dripping off the darkened ends of his mussed hair. “That,” he replies, pointing up to the showerhead where a red piece of soap in the shape of an airplane dangles from the pipe, “is the closest we’re ever getting to joining the mile high club.”
“Someday,” Sam whispers, kissing Dean again, “we’ll get there.”
Dean only laughs. “In your dreams, dickwad.”
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Thank you!
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God, I love that image.
over Dean’s forehead and down the nape of his neck where the Sam has left bruises to claim as mine -- you've an un-needed "the"
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Thank you! It is a lovely image, isn't it? :)
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Not everything. Not even ruined just takes you out of the sentence for a moment.
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Although "the Sam" makes it sound like something you can buy at Wal-Mart. "The Sams are on sale for a low, low price!" *facepalm*
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They'd come in many varities too - Stanford!Sam, Emo!Sam, InlovewithDean!Sam, Possessed!Sam and of course all the clothes and stuff so you can play pretend. Oh! And a laptop too.
*invests*
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*dolphin noises*
I'm so picturing Sam dressed up in a bunny costume. He walks into the motel room where him and Dean are staying and Sam leans over the bed where Dean's sleep and nudges him (Dean) with his nose. Dean grumbles and half assedly makes to push Sam away. But Sam just smiles to himself and keeps on nudging at Dean. Finally Dean opens his eyes and takes in the white fur and pink ears. "Dude. The fuck?" Sam takes that as his cue to pounce on Dean and straddle him.
Dean: You have something you want to confess?
Sam: Peter Cottontail was my favourite book?
or
Dean: Uh, Sammy?
Sam: I thought we might start a new Easter tradition.
or maybe
Dean: *pushes self up to kiss Sam hard*
Sam: Always knew you had a furrie kink.
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But, Sam won't let Dean do anything until Dean finally caves and admits that, yes, he did go to a Furrie convention this one time that he won't talk about.
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*FLAILY*
You should clearly write A STORY! *waves flag of fic writing encouragement*
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I'm not giving in and writing a story about Sam/Dean + Furries. No matter how fun and simply cracktastically smutty it could be. I am silencing THAT plot bunny right now.
*crosses arms* Nope. Not gonna cave on this one. *shakes head*
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But think of the funny and the crack! And and after Sam's like really fucking sweaty because those costumes are you know, hot. Dean's laying on the bed all blissed out and Sam's making his way to the shower and over his shoulder says, 'Man the things I do for you.' Dean just smiles. 'You love me, bitch.'
*waves flag a little bit more* You can do eet! You can do eet!
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*tries harder to ignore flag* Must. Not. Give. In.
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It is. And Sam's hair would be matted to his head and he'd look real dorky. And Dean'd be in the shower with him (after he got off his ass) and he'd look up and smile at Sam. Sam slightly annoyed would just look at Dean. 'What?' And Dean'd brush a piece of hair from Sam's forehead. 'Nothing.'
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If I could write? I'd be all over it like white on rice. I suggest you poke
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*peers over at
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Go Furry!Kink!Dean. Choose Furry!Kink!Dean
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Bwaha! You cannot get me behind here!
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::falls over:: that is very perfect.
(yay for comment from a random person you don't know! ♥)
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(And nothing wrong with random comments, either. I'm guessing you're here via Dru, though? :) )
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The one and only :D
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*wipes off*
*smokes a cig*
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Thank you! :)
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Thank you! :)
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Lucky Dru! That was awesome and hot and brilliant.
Just what I needed after having an arguement with a Wincest-Hater. *sigh*
♥
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Thank you, though, for your thoughts! I'm glad you liked this one. :)
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I really liked it *nodnod*
♥
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When Sam said he wanted it again, my stomach did that awesome flip-floppy thing. Wheeeee!
Oh man, it was far too short, but more than enough hot to make up for it.
YAY!
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