PixCT: 10-11
Oct. 11th, 2007 02:59 pmIt's that time again...
Fic:
Slash (Dean/Sam)
Adult
Preseries Wincest
1868 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
DruCT: 10-4
PixCT: 10-4
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 10-11
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
Preseries (cliched!) Wincest
1868 words
- - - - -
Pix's Pic Pick

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“So you wanna talk about last night?” Dean asked nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the road. He took a swig of the opened water bottle held between his legs.
Sam crossed his arms and slumped lower in the seat of the Impala. “No,” he bit back grouchily. His face instantly flushed at Dean's unexpected mention of last night. He had been hoping that Dean—for once—would be a nice enough brother and just drop the subject after the horror had already occurred.
“C'mon, Sammy. Wasn't like it was nothing I haven't seen before—”
“Not from me, you haven’t”
“All right,” Dean admitted unwillingly, recapping his water bottle and tossing it in the backseat somewhere alongside Sam's school supplies. Sam had to glance behind him to make sure the lid hadn’t come off the bottle and left his schoolbooks soaking. “Not from you, but dude,” Dean continued, “not that big of a deal.”
“Then stop talking about it already, wouldya? You’ve already made your point. You embarrassed me. Congratulations, Dean.”
“I just think you need some pointers.”
“Oh God,” Sam groaned, wishing he could sink right down through his seat and fall onto the road so that Dean could drive away and leave him here. He'd walk back home. Maybe never go back home at all. Travel the country. He’d heard the circus was nice. “You are not giving me sex advice.”
“Then who else are you going to get it from? Dad? Pastor Jim?” Dean, amused with himself, chuckled at that mention.
“I'll learn from experience, all right? Like a normal kid instead of somebody with a nosy older brother.”
“Sam? That chick? She looked bored when I walked in.”
“She was scared,” Sam spat. “You didn't even fucking knock, asshole. Just walked in on us just before—”
“You even know how to put on a condom, Sammy?”
That was it.
“You're a jerk!” Sam yelled, and he punched Dean, hard as he could, right in the shoulder. Even though it wasn’t really a good aim because they were riding in the car, Sam was still sure that it must’ve have hurt at least somewhat. He sure hoped it did. Dean deserved it.
But Dean, of course, only laughed as he steered the car over to the side of the road. He cut the engine, killing the radio which had been quietly singing “El Paso” so they sat in silence next to a field of endless sunflowers simply bobbing gently in the warm wind. There must have been millions of the flowers there, just standing and watching the brothers in their car.
Dean unbuckled and opened his door. “Get outta the car,” he said, stepping outside.
“What?”
Dean crossed the front of the car, came around to the passenger's side and opened Sam's door.
“Get out of the car,” he repeated, jerking his thumb in the direction of the sunflowers behind him.
Sam glowered up at Dean and asked, “Why should I?”
Sighing heavily and rolling his eyes, Dean leaned his forearm on the top of the car and bent down to make level eye contact with Sam. “Because I still have those photos from your days of Nair shampoo and I know how to work a copy machine. So get out of the car, Baldie.”
Grumbling, Sam clambered out of his seat and stepped onto the graveled shoulder, squinting against the bright sun. He wished he hadn't left his sunglasses in his backpack. He felt like an idiot with his face all twisted into a grimace, trying to see Dean standing in front of him.
“Okay,” Dean said, grabbing Sam on the shoulders with a hearty slap, “let's do this right.” He took a step back and nodded at Sam. “I'm your girlfriend from last night—”
“We're not dating.”
“Fine. I'm your fuck buddy from last night.”
“Dean!”
Dean groaned, exasperated. “Work with me here, Sammy. I'm a girl who you would like to have sex with—all right? Now. Show me your moves.”
“S'cuse me?”
“Show me your moves. I'm your girl. Impress me.”
“We are so not doing this,” Sam replied and began to walk away. If he couldn't have Dean give him a fucking normal ride home from school, then he'd just walk home. It couldn't have been more than…fifteen miles, he thought suddenly and sighed to himself. He stopped, instantly tired and realizing that fifteen miles was a really long way. Especially walking alone.
Dean came up behind him and pulled on Sam's arm, turning him around.
“Hey, hey,” Dean said, and when Sam finally faced him, Dean smiled. “I'm just tryin’ to help you out, mmkay? We Winchesters gotta impress our ladies, and you, man, you are really messing up our good name.”
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. Winchesters were also known for their stubborn streak, and Dean was just as bad as the rest of them because when he was onto something, there was no arguing with him. Maybe if Sam played along with whatever Dean was planning—a few bad pickup lines—then Dean would get back in the car so they could go home and Sam could finish his schoolwork.
“Fine,” Sam said grudgingly. “You're my girl. Tell me what to do.”
Dean shook his head. “Nah. I've changed my mind. You’re going to be the girl,” he replied, jabbing a finger into Sam’s chest, “and I'll be you. Show you what you should be doing next time your gal pays a visit.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sam asked, eager to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Stand there.”
Before Sam could say anything, Dean had moved in closer to Sam, nearly pressing him back onto the hood of the Impala. Sam tripped over his own feet and reached out to catch himself. He quickly retracted his hand, palm burning on the blistering hot paint of the Impala.
“Hey there, pretty girl.” Dean grinned, a flash of white teeth against the background of green and yellow rolling field behind him.
“Dean...”
“All right, all right. So, first thing you gotta do is kiss her.” Dean leaned in, and Sam felt his heart jump into his throat. “Girls love it when you touch them, so you wanna put your hands like this,” he said, resting one rough hand on either side of Sam's face. “Then you can run your fingers through her hair, rub your thumb over her cheek. Chicks dig that sort of stuff.”
“Okay,” Sam said, voice cracking. He coughed to clear his throat, and he hoped Dean hadn’t noticed the way his pitch wavered. “So I kiss her, right? That's it?”
Dean smirked, and with his face so close, Sam could see the small crinkles around his eyes. “You gotta do it right.”
“Right?” Sam echoed back in a pinched gasp. If he hadn’t been so disoriented, he really would have hated Dean for this.
“Yeah,” Dean answered. “You want to lean in real slow, take your time to make eye contact with her before you dive on in.” As he spoke, Dean started to bring his face closer so Sam could smell the peppermint gum Dean was chewing and see each and every smudge of a freckle. “Now when you kiss her, open your lips a little bit. Don't pinch 'em tight shut and just peck her.”
Sam nodded, unable to speak and head whirling. His heart was beating loudly, frantically; he could barely hear what Dean was saying.
Without any further words or warning, Dean pressed his lips to Sam's. He did it exactly as he had instructed. His lips were slightly opened, just enough to fit between Sam's own, and he tugged gently at Sam's bottom lip, tongue darting out to lick at Sam’s mouth.
“Close your eyes, Sammy,” Dean murmured, pulling back just enough to talk. “Chicks will think you're not into 'em if you keep your eyes open.”
Hesitantly, Sam did as Dean advised, and suddenly, the feel of Dean's mouth on his became that much more intense. Dean's lips were dry, not slippery with lipgloss like the girls Sam had kissed before this, and his mouth was not questioning. It was a light kiss, yes, but it didn't ask for permission. All the girls had asked for permission even if they had not said a single word.
“Now,” Dean whispered, moving down Sam's neck, “kiss them in other places a bit.” Soon as his lips touched the bare skin below Sam's jawline, Sam stiffened instantly. He fisted his hands in his jeans just to grab onto something that wasn't his brother in front of him, and he bit back a moan that began to rise up inside his throat. He couldn't help but roll his head back to expose his throat even further for Dean.
As Dean kissed, wet smacking sounds of licks and nibbles over Sam's bare skin, Sam felt the blood rushing to his cock. He was fifteen for Christ's sake. Just watching two people making out practically sent him over the edge, so being kissed by someone who actually knew what they were doing was probably going to kill him.
Because, Dean? Yeah. He was good at this.
Dean moved into Sam, pressing their bodies together and mumbling something about “making full body contact with your girl,” and Sam opened his eyes to gaze over Dean's shoulder. The sunflowers swayed quietly, their big black eyes watching Sam while they asked, What exactly are you doing, Sam?
Just as Dean began to trail his fingers along the hem of Sam's t-shirt, Sam hands, which had been resting on his pants, came up to push Dean away. If Sam didn't stop things now, pretty soon Dean would be noticing that Sam was enjoying this perhaps a bit too much. Because Sam didn't want to hear what exactly Dean would say when he felt Sam's cock perking up at kissing his brother, he put his hands on Dean's chest and shoved him away gently.
“O-okay, I...I think I got it,” Sam stuttered clumsily. He reached up to his mouth and wiped away the taste of Dean, sweet peppermint gum and something else he couldn’t—forget—name, while Dean crossed his arms and smirked.
“You got it now, Romeo?”
“I'm p-pretty sure, yeah.”
Dean licked his lips, a simple gesture that sent Sam scrambling to cover his crotch area with an awkward hand, and he said, “All right then, let's get going since you think you can handle things now.” He smacked Sam on the shoulder and went around to the driver's side of the car, keys jingling as he pulled them from his pocket.
Alone on the passenger's side, Sam pressed a defiant palm against his erection, trying to will it away, and he swallowed thickly. The sunflowers stared at him accusingly, and Sam bent his head.
Yeah, he thought, I've definitely got some issues to work through now, huh?
“Sammy!” Dean called from inside the car. “Let's get going! Gotta get home before Dad does!”
As Sam turned back to open his door, the sunflowers remained quiet, allowing Sam's question to answer itself in his spinning mind.
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
“So you wanna talk about last night?” Dean asked nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the road. He took a swig of the opened water bottle held between his legs.
Sam crossed his arms and slumped lower in the seat of the Impala. “No,” he bit back grouchily. His face instantly flushed at Dean's unexpected mention of last night. He had been hoping that Dean—for once—would be a nice enough brother and just drop the subject after the horror had already occurred.
“C'mon, Sammy. Wasn't like it was nothing I haven't seen before—”
“Not from me, you haven’t”
“All right,” Dean admitted unwillingly, recapping his water bottle and tossing it in the backseat somewhere alongside Sam's school supplies. Sam had to glance behind him to make sure the lid hadn’t come off the bottle and left his schoolbooks soaking. “Not from you, but dude,” Dean continued, “not that big of a deal.”
“Then stop talking about it already, wouldya? You’ve already made your point. You embarrassed me. Congratulations, Dean.”
“I just think you need some pointers.”
“Oh God,” Sam groaned, wishing he could sink right down through his seat and fall onto the road so that Dean could drive away and leave him here. He'd walk back home. Maybe never go back home at all. Travel the country. He’d heard the circus was nice. “You are not giving me sex advice.”
“Then who else are you going to get it from? Dad? Pastor Jim?” Dean, amused with himself, chuckled at that mention.
“I'll learn from experience, all right? Like a normal kid instead of somebody with a nosy older brother.”
“Sam? That chick? She looked bored when I walked in.”
“She was scared,” Sam spat. “You didn't even fucking knock, asshole. Just walked in on us just before—”
“You even know how to put on a condom, Sammy?”
That was it.
“You're a jerk!” Sam yelled, and he punched Dean, hard as he could, right in the shoulder. Even though it wasn’t really a good aim because they were riding in the car, Sam was still sure that it must’ve have hurt at least somewhat. He sure hoped it did. Dean deserved it.
But Dean, of course, only laughed as he steered the car over to the side of the road. He cut the engine, killing the radio which had been quietly singing “El Paso” so they sat in silence next to a field of endless sunflowers simply bobbing gently in the warm wind. There must have been millions of the flowers there, just standing and watching the brothers in their car.
Dean unbuckled and opened his door. “Get outta the car,” he said, stepping outside.
“What?”
Dean crossed the front of the car, came around to the passenger's side and opened Sam's door.
“Get out of the car,” he repeated, jerking his thumb in the direction of the sunflowers behind him.
Sam glowered up at Dean and asked, “Why should I?”
Sighing heavily and rolling his eyes, Dean leaned his forearm on the top of the car and bent down to make level eye contact with Sam. “Because I still have those photos from your days of Nair shampoo and I know how to work a copy machine. So get out of the car, Baldie.”
Grumbling, Sam clambered out of his seat and stepped onto the graveled shoulder, squinting against the bright sun. He wished he hadn't left his sunglasses in his backpack. He felt like an idiot with his face all twisted into a grimace, trying to see Dean standing in front of him.
“Okay,” Dean said, grabbing Sam on the shoulders with a hearty slap, “let's do this right.” He took a step back and nodded at Sam. “I'm your girlfriend from last night—”
“We're not dating.”
“Fine. I'm your fuck buddy from last night.”
“Dean!”
Dean groaned, exasperated. “Work with me here, Sammy. I'm a girl who you would like to have sex with—all right? Now. Show me your moves.”
“S'cuse me?”
“Show me your moves. I'm your girl. Impress me.”
“We are so not doing this,” Sam replied and began to walk away. If he couldn't have Dean give him a fucking normal ride home from school, then he'd just walk home. It couldn't have been more than…fifteen miles, he thought suddenly and sighed to himself. He stopped, instantly tired and realizing that fifteen miles was a really long way. Especially walking alone.
Dean came up behind him and pulled on Sam's arm, turning him around.
“Hey, hey,” Dean said, and when Sam finally faced him, Dean smiled. “I'm just tryin’ to help you out, mmkay? We Winchesters gotta impress our ladies, and you, man, you are really messing up our good name.”
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. Winchesters were also known for their stubborn streak, and Dean was just as bad as the rest of them because when he was onto something, there was no arguing with him. Maybe if Sam played along with whatever Dean was planning—a few bad pickup lines—then Dean would get back in the car so they could go home and Sam could finish his schoolwork.
“Fine,” Sam said grudgingly. “You're my girl. Tell me what to do.”
Dean shook his head. “Nah. I've changed my mind. You’re going to be the girl,” he replied, jabbing a finger into Sam’s chest, “and I'll be you. Show you what you should be doing next time your gal pays a visit.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sam asked, eager to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Stand there.”
Before Sam could say anything, Dean had moved in closer to Sam, nearly pressing him back onto the hood of the Impala. Sam tripped over his own feet and reached out to catch himself. He quickly retracted his hand, palm burning on the blistering hot paint of the Impala.
“Hey there, pretty girl.” Dean grinned, a flash of white teeth against the background of green and yellow rolling field behind him.
“Dean...”
“All right, all right. So, first thing you gotta do is kiss her.” Dean leaned in, and Sam felt his heart jump into his throat. “Girls love it when you touch them, so you wanna put your hands like this,” he said, resting one rough hand on either side of Sam's face. “Then you can run your fingers through her hair, rub your thumb over her cheek. Chicks dig that sort of stuff.”
“Okay,” Sam said, voice cracking. He coughed to clear his throat, and he hoped Dean hadn’t noticed the way his pitch wavered. “So I kiss her, right? That's it?”
Dean smirked, and with his face so close, Sam could see the small crinkles around his eyes. “You gotta do it right.”
“Right?” Sam echoed back in a pinched gasp. If he hadn’t been so disoriented, he really would have hated Dean for this.
“Yeah,” Dean answered. “You want to lean in real slow, take your time to make eye contact with her before you dive on in.” As he spoke, Dean started to bring his face closer so Sam could smell the peppermint gum Dean was chewing and see each and every smudge of a freckle. “Now when you kiss her, open your lips a little bit. Don't pinch 'em tight shut and just peck her.”
Sam nodded, unable to speak and head whirling. His heart was beating loudly, frantically; he could barely hear what Dean was saying.
Without any further words or warning, Dean pressed his lips to Sam's. He did it exactly as he had instructed. His lips were slightly opened, just enough to fit between Sam's own, and he tugged gently at Sam's bottom lip, tongue darting out to lick at Sam’s mouth.
“Close your eyes, Sammy,” Dean murmured, pulling back just enough to talk. “Chicks will think you're not into 'em if you keep your eyes open.”
Hesitantly, Sam did as Dean advised, and suddenly, the feel of Dean's mouth on his became that much more intense. Dean's lips were dry, not slippery with lipgloss like the girls Sam had kissed before this, and his mouth was not questioning. It was a light kiss, yes, but it didn't ask for permission. All the girls had asked for permission even if they had not said a single word.
“Now,” Dean whispered, moving down Sam's neck, “kiss them in other places a bit.” Soon as his lips touched the bare skin below Sam's jawline, Sam stiffened instantly. He fisted his hands in his jeans just to grab onto something that wasn't his brother in front of him, and he bit back a moan that began to rise up inside his throat. He couldn't help but roll his head back to expose his throat even further for Dean.
As Dean kissed, wet smacking sounds of licks and nibbles over Sam's bare skin, Sam felt the blood rushing to his cock. He was fifteen for Christ's sake. Just watching two people making out practically sent him over the edge, so being kissed by someone who actually knew what they were doing was probably going to kill him.
Because, Dean? Yeah. He was good at this.
Dean moved into Sam, pressing their bodies together and mumbling something about “making full body contact with your girl,” and Sam opened his eyes to gaze over Dean's shoulder. The sunflowers swayed quietly, their big black eyes watching Sam while they asked, What exactly are you doing, Sam?
Just as Dean began to trail his fingers along the hem of Sam's t-shirt, Sam hands, which had been resting on his pants, came up to push Dean away. If Sam didn't stop things now, pretty soon Dean would be noticing that Sam was enjoying this perhaps a bit too much. Because Sam didn't want to hear what exactly Dean would say when he felt Sam's cock perking up at kissing his brother, he put his hands on Dean's chest and shoved him away gently.
“O-okay, I...I think I got it,” Sam stuttered clumsily. He reached up to his mouth and wiped away the taste of Dean, sweet peppermint gum and something else he couldn’t—forget—name, while Dean crossed his arms and smirked.
“You got it now, Romeo?”
“I'm p-pretty sure, yeah.”
Dean licked his lips, a simple gesture that sent Sam scrambling to cover his crotch area with an awkward hand, and he said, “All right then, let's get going since you think you can handle things now.” He smacked Sam on the shoulder and went around to the driver's side of the car, keys jingling as he pulled them from his pocket.
Alone on the passenger's side, Sam pressed a defiant palm against his erection, trying to will it away, and he swallowed thickly. The sunflowers stared at him accusingly, and Sam bent his head.
Yeah, he thought, I've definitely got some issues to work through now, huh?
“Sammy!” Dean called from inside the car. “Let's get going! Gotta get home before Dad does!”
As Sam turned back to open his door, the sunflowers remained quiet, allowing Sam's question to answer itself in his spinning mind.
End
no subject
Date: 2007-10-18 07:44 pm (UTC)Thanks again for reading and enjoying! :D