PixCT: 9-27
Sep. 27th, 2007 02:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixel_0It’s time once again for Cock Thursday!
Fic:
Slash (Dean/Sam)
Adult
1498 words
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
DruCT: 9-13
PixCT: 9-13
DruCT: 9-20
PixCT: 9-20
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 9-27
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
1498 words
- - - - -
Pix’s Pic Pick
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As soon as Sam entered the motel room, he was horribly, overwhelmingly, and instantly aware of one thing: the air conditioner was broken. With a heavy sigh, he closed the door behind him and tossed the huge bag of clean laundry onto the table. A roll of socks popped out from the gaping top of the bag that Sam hadn’t completely closed. Wiping a forearm over his already wet face, he cursed under his breath.
“Too fucking hot,” he growled to himself.
“I already called the guy at the counter about it,” Dean commented from the other side of the room, as if reading Sam’s irritated mind. “He’s working on getting the AC fixed.”
Sam turned around to see Dean shirtless—thanks to Sam stealing all free clothing to wash—sprawled on the bed and watching TV.
“How long’s it going to be?” Sam asked. He eyed the socks that had fallen out of the laundry bag. He’d get to them later. It wasn’t worth the energy in this heat to bend down and pick them up.
Dean shrugged and dug a spoon, generic black plastic, into a container between his legs. “Dunno. Hopefully soon.” He lifted the spoon to his mouth and swallowed, averting his eyes back to the mumbling television.
“Ice cream?” Sam asked, coming closer to the bed.
“Yup. It’s the only frozen thing here.”
Sam toed off his shoes before sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks, wet hot cotton. He dropped the limp socks aimlessly onto the floor somewhere next to his shoes and lay down on his side next to Dean on the bed. Overhead, the ceiling fan clicked and whirred loudly, preparing to leap down. For all its noise, the relief it gave was only minimal.
“Chocolate, huh?” Sam mused as he watched Dean precariously lift another overflowing spoonful to his mouth.
“Not just any chocolate,” Dean pointed out in the same manner he did when correcting Sam on anything. “Haagen-Dazs, man. Mayan friggin’ Chocolate.”
Sam snickered softly, amused by Dean’s childlike happiness in his ice cream. As Dean ate, Sam turned his attention to the TV where a movie from the late nineties played. Bunch of overdressed teenagers in high school complaining about their lives. The movie was familiar enough, but the name escaped Sam.
Just as Sam was beginning to remember the first part of the movie’s title, Dean interrupted his thoughts by asking, “You want some?”
Sam shrugged as best he could while lying down. “Sure.”
Carefully, with one hand cupped below the plastic spoon, so as to catch any escaping droplets, Dean offered Sam the ice cream. Sam swallowed while Dean looked on expectantly.
“Good?” Dean asked.
“As if you have to ask,” Sam answered sarcastically. The ice cream was cold and sweet and chocolate and, yes, cold.
“Bet I know something that tastes even better.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dean said and leaned down to kiss Sam. Dean’s lips were ice cream sticky, and his breath was chilled and sweet. Just as Dean started to pull away, Sam snaked an arm behind Dean’s head and tugged him closer again, smashing their noses together and bumping foreheads. Dean gave a surprised grunt that escaped as a puff of warm chocolaty air.
“Not so fast,” Sam whispered, craning his neck even further upward to reach Dean’s mouth.
When Sam rolled over and straddled Dean’s legs, Dean looked up at him and said, “I thought you said it was too hot.”
Sam chuckled and dipped a crooked finger into the melting carton of ice cream. Without answering, he lifted his dripping finger and traced gooey chocolate circles on Dean’s chest. The liquid ran down to Dean’s stomach and pooled in the creases of his jeans. When Sam pulled back, he sucked the ice cream off his finger and watched Dean staring up at him.
Sam leaned forward and brought his mouth to Dean’s skin, to lick and nip, to trail his tongue lazily over the looped ice cream swirls. He tugged on a nipple with his teeth before quickly lapping up the melting chocolate around it.
“Didn’t know,” Dean groaned as he threaded his fingers through Sam’s hair, “you had such a sweet tooth, Sammy.”
When Sam had finished cleaning away the ice cream from Dean’s chest, he sat back on his haunches to pull his shirt over his head. There were beads of perspiration clinging to Dean’s temple, and Sam could feel his own sweat trailing its way down his spine. The heat was enveloping him, wanting to dull all his senses into nothingness, but Sam put one hand, then the other into the carton of ice cream.
“You bastard,” Dean hissed with a smirk forming on his lips. “You’re using up my dessert.”
“Yeah, yeah, get over it, princess,” Sam replied and smacked two chocolate handprints on Dean’s chest. He slid his hands up and over Dean’s shoulders as the brothers met again in a messy kiss. As Sam’s hands slipped over Dean’s back, kneading the corded muscles, Sam suddenly felt Dean’s fingers, cold and wet, on his cheeks, and Sam pulled away.
Dean, grinning, sat with his chocolate covered hands dangling in the air. Glistening brown droplets fell to the sheets, plopped onto their jeans and skin.
“Two can play this game,” he laughed. Before Sam could answer back, Dean reached for Sam’s pants and unbuttoned them. Frigid, sticky fingers pulled Sam’s jeans and briefs past the swell of his ass and wrapped around his cock. The coldness startled Sam and he sucked in quick, shallow breath.
“Fuck,” Sam swore as Dean began to jack him off slowly. The warming ice cream stuck and pulled at the sensitive skin on Sam’s cock, dropped into his pubic hair and tickled the insides of his thighs where it ran down.
Sam leaned over to press their foreheads together, curving his back and dipping his fingers into the ice cream carton held between Dean’s legs. Dean’s hand on his cock never slowed, and Sam undid Dean’s pants to bring out his brother’s cock as well. Fingers aided by the sweet slick of the ice cream, they jacked each other off, breathing hotly into the shared air with mouths so close together.
In a rush, Sam pushed Dean’s hand aside and began to grind against the bare flesh of Dean’s hip, leaving dark streaks of chocolate on tanned skin. Sam gripped Dean’s shoulder for balance while he rode the groove of muscle and bone, hips quickening as the heat skittered through his veins. He still kept his other fist around Dean’s cock, tugging and pulling with every thrust of his hips against his brother.
Dean came to rest his hands, newly covered in the ice cream on Sam’s ass, holding him with every rise and fall. He rested his face in the crook of Sam’s neck where the chocolate had melted off Sam’s cheeks and ran in rivulets downward. Dean placed warm, wet kisses along Sam’s neck, nibbling and tasting until he reached Sam’s earlobe to gnaw gently.
“That’s it,” Dean hissed, “so close, Sam, so close now. Just a lil’ bit more, almost there, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop now—” Then his voice pinched, locked and closed down as he came, babbling nonsense into Sam’s skin. Sam felt the come hit, distinctive hot against the coldness of the ice cream, onto his stomach as he continued to thrust against Dean’s hip.
Dean shuddered beneath Sam, eyes closed and throat bobbing as he swallowed the remains of his orgasm. When he opened his eyes, he stared up at Sam under heavy, dazed eyelids.
“Let me help you,” he whispered and bent his fingers into the soup of ice cream, completely melted from the heat of the air and the warmth of Dean’s body. He curled his covered fingers around Sam’s cock and jerked Sam off, quickly, almost roughly. Frantic little twists of his wrist, smearing chocolate over the head of Sam’s cock and down the hot shaft.
Sam didn’t last long. Not with Dean wringing every drop of electricity out of him, and Sam came, choking down Dean’s name and obscenities and pleas. With a whine, he collapsed against Dean in a breathless heap.
Dean ran sticky fingers along Sam’s face until Sam lifted his head.
“Hey,” Dean said. “You know what?”
“Hmm?” Sam asked, mind still spinning.
Dean kissed him on the corner of his mouth, licked at the dried chocolate smear under Sam’s eye. “I hope you know that I bought a few other flavors. Think Butter Pecan is as good as Mayan Chocolate?”
Sam chuckled and met Dean’s mouth happily as they tumbled down together onto the bed. The carton of ice cream tipped to spill a river of melted chocolate onto the floor, and Sam said, “So, do you want me to get the Butter Pecan now or do you think we’ve had enough nuts for now?”
Dean could only laugh.
End
Fic:
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
- - - - -
Today
Pix’s Pic Pick
As soon as Sam entered the motel room, he was horribly, overwhelmingly, and instantly aware of one thing: the air conditioner was broken. With a heavy sigh, he closed the door behind him and tossed the huge bag of clean laundry onto the table. A roll of socks popped out from the gaping top of the bag that Sam hadn’t completely closed. Wiping a forearm over his already wet face, he cursed under his breath.
“Too fucking hot,” he growled to himself.
“I already called the guy at the counter about it,” Dean commented from the other side of the room, as if reading Sam’s irritated mind. “He’s working on getting the AC fixed.”
Sam turned around to see Dean shirtless—thanks to Sam stealing all free clothing to wash—sprawled on the bed and watching TV.
“How long’s it going to be?” Sam asked. He eyed the socks that had fallen out of the laundry bag. He’d get to them later. It wasn’t worth the energy in this heat to bend down and pick them up.
Dean shrugged and dug a spoon, generic black plastic, into a container between his legs. “Dunno. Hopefully soon.” He lifted the spoon to his mouth and swallowed, averting his eyes back to the mumbling television.
“Ice cream?” Sam asked, coming closer to the bed.
“Yup. It’s the only frozen thing here.”
Sam toed off his shoes before sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks, wet hot cotton. He dropped the limp socks aimlessly onto the floor somewhere next to his shoes and lay down on his side next to Dean on the bed. Overhead, the ceiling fan clicked and whirred loudly, preparing to leap down. For all its noise, the relief it gave was only minimal.
“Chocolate, huh?” Sam mused as he watched Dean precariously lift another overflowing spoonful to his mouth.
“Not just any chocolate,” Dean pointed out in the same manner he did when correcting Sam on anything. “Haagen-Dazs, man. Mayan friggin’ Chocolate.”
Sam snickered softly, amused by Dean’s childlike happiness in his ice cream. As Dean ate, Sam turned his attention to the TV where a movie from the late nineties played. Bunch of overdressed teenagers in high school complaining about their lives. The movie was familiar enough, but the name escaped Sam.
Just as Sam was beginning to remember the first part of the movie’s title, Dean interrupted his thoughts by asking, “You want some?”
Sam shrugged as best he could while lying down. “Sure.”
Carefully, with one hand cupped below the plastic spoon, so as to catch any escaping droplets, Dean offered Sam the ice cream. Sam swallowed while Dean looked on expectantly.
“Good?” Dean asked.
“As if you have to ask,” Sam answered sarcastically. The ice cream was cold and sweet and chocolate and, yes, cold.
“Bet I know something that tastes even better.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dean said and leaned down to kiss Sam. Dean’s lips were ice cream sticky, and his breath was chilled and sweet. Just as Dean started to pull away, Sam snaked an arm behind Dean’s head and tugged him closer again, smashing their noses together and bumping foreheads. Dean gave a surprised grunt that escaped as a puff of warm chocolaty air.
“Not so fast,” Sam whispered, craning his neck even further upward to reach Dean’s mouth.
When Sam rolled over and straddled Dean’s legs, Dean looked up at him and said, “I thought you said it was too hot.”
Sam chuckled and dipped a crooked finger into the melting carton of ice cream. Without answering, he lifted his dripping finger and traced gooey chocolate circles on Dean’s chest. The liquid ran down to Dean’s stomach and pooled in the creases of his jeans. When Sam pulled back, he sucked the ice cream off his finger and watched Dean staring up at him.
Sam leaned forward and brought his mouth to Dean’s skin, to lick and nip, to trail his tongue lazily over the looped ice cream swirls. He tugged on a nipple with his teeth before quickly lapping up the melting chocolate around it.
“Didn’t know,” Dean groaned as he threaded his fingers through Sam’s hair, “you had such a sweet tooth, Sammy.”
When Sam had finished cleaning away the ice cream from Dean’s chest, he sat back on his haunches to pull his shirt over his head. There were beads of perspiration clinging to Dean’s temple, and Sam could feel his own sweat trailing its way down his spine. The heat was enveloping him, wanting to dull all his senses into nothingness, but Sam put one hand, then the other into the carton of ice cream.
“You bastard,” Dean hissed with a smirk forming on his lips. “You’re using up my dessert.”
“Yeah, yeah, get over it, princess,” Sam replied and smacked two chocolate handprints on Dean’s chest. He slid his hands up and over Dean’s shoulders as the brothers met again in a messy kiss. As Sam’s hands slipped over Dean’s back, kneading the corded muscles, Sam suddenly felt Dean’s fingers, cold and wet, on his cheeks, and Sam pulled away.
Dean, grinning, sat with his chocolate covered hands dangling in the air. Glistening brown droplets fell to the sheets, plopped onto their jeans and skin.
“Two can play this game,” he laughed. Before Sam could answer back, Dean reached for Sam’s pants and unbuttoned them. Frigid, sticky fingers pulled Sam’s jeans and briefs past the swell of his ass and wrapped around his cock. The coldness startled Sam and he sucked in quick, shallow breath.
“Fuck,” Sam swore as Dean began to jack him off slowly. The warming ice cream stuck and pulled at the sensitive skin on Sam’s cock, dropped into his pubic hair and tickled the insides of his thighs where it ran down.
Sam leaned over to press their foreheads together, curving his back and dipping his fingers into the ice cream carton held between Dean’s legs. Dean’s hand on his cock never slowed, and Sam undid Dean’s pants to bring out his brother’s cock as well. Fingers aided by the sweet slick of the ice cream, they jacked each other off, breathing hotly into the shared air with mouths so close together.
In a rush, Sam pushed Dean’s hand aside and began to grind against the bare flesh of Dean’s hip, leaving dark streaks of chocolate on tanned skin. Sam gripped Dean’s shoulder for balance while he rode the groove of muscle and bone, hips quickening as the heat skittered through his veins. He still kept his other fist around Dean’s cock, tugging and pulling with every thrust of his hips against his brother.
Dean came to rest his hands, newly covered in the ice cream on Sam’s ass, holding him with every rise and fall. He rested his face in the crook of Sam’s neck where the chocolate had melted off Sam’s cheeks and ran in rivulets downward. Dean placed warm, wet kisses along Sam’s neck, nibbling and tasting until he reached Sam’s earlobe to gnaw gently.
“That’s it,” Dean hissed, “so close, Sam, so close now. Just a lil’ bit more, almost there, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop now—” Then his voice pinched, locked and closed down as he came, babbling nonsense into Sam’s skin. Sam felt the come hit, distinctive hot against the coldness of the ice cream, onto his stomach as he continued to thrust against Dean’s hip.
Dean shuddered beneath Sam, eyes closed and throat bobbing as he swallowed the remains of his orgasm. When he opened his eyes, he stared up at Sam under heavy, dazed eyelids.
“Let me help you,” he whispered and bent his fingers into the soup of ice cream, completely melted from the heat of the air and the warmth of Dean’s body. He curled his covered fingers around Sam’s cock and jerked Sam off, quickly, almost roughly. Frantic little twists of his wrist, smearing chocolate over the head of Sam’s cock and down the hot shaft.
Sam didn’t last long. Not with Dean wringing every drop of electricity out of him, and Sam came, choking down Dean’s name and obscenities and pleas. With a whine, he collapsed against Dean in a breathless heap.
Dean ran sticky fingers along Sam’s face until Sam lifted his head.
“Hey,” Dean said. “You know what?”
“Hmm?” Sam asked, mind still spinning.
Dean kissed him on the corner of his mouth, licked at the dried chocolate smear under Sam’s eye. “I hope you know that I bought a few other flavors. Think Butter Pecan is as good as Mayan Chocolate?”
Sam chuckled and met Dean’s mouth happily as they tumbled down together onto the bed. The carton of ice cream tipped to spill a river of melted chocolate onto the floor, and Sam said, “So, do you want me to get the Butter Pecan now or do you think we’ve had enough nuts for now?”
Dean could only laugh.
End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 11:56 pm (UTC)And dirty!
And HOT.
Brilliant, thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-10-01 02:05 am (UTC)