PixCT: 2-14
Feb. 14th, 2008 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixel_0It's that time again...
Fic:
Slash (Dean/Sam)
Adult
~360
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
September 07
October 07
November 07
December 07
January 08
DruCT: 2-07
PixCT: 2-07
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 2-14
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~360 words
- - - - -
Pix's Pic Pick
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Inside Dean, balls pressed to the curve of his ass, Sam gasped and choked, tried to remember how to breathe. Sweat on his face, hair, dark and wet, clinging to his forehead, and sweat on his back, running down to the base of his spine.
Dean's fingers clutched tightly at his arm. "C'mon, Sam, c'mon," Dean whined, needy and desperate, strained too far. On his back with one leg slung over Sam's bicep, the other sprawled haphazardly to the side as Sam spread him open, fucked him mad.
Sam shook his head. Didn't know if he could come again. Worn out, spent, cock aching from too long--hours unknown--of this. Of doing nothing but sucking and fucking, licking and kissing, and feasting on each other's bodies like the taste of sex was the only thing for which they hungered.
There was lube everywhere, smeared over Dean's hole, slicked on his asscheeks, drying in the thatch of hair around Sam's cock. Sam's hands were sticky with it, and Dean's fingers tasted of it. Sam couldn't remember where the bottle had fallen. They'd probably used it all anyway.
Dean was jacking himself off with soft, guttural noises in the back of his throat as Sam thrust into him, hips working fervently. The room stunk of them--sweat and spunk--and Sam could still taste Dean on his tongue.
With a groan, Dean came, shooting on his stomach and chest, and his fingers tightened, digging deep, into Sam's arm. The momentum of Dean's orgasm pulled Sam down as well, and he tensed, forehead falling onto Dean's chest as his head spun and body shuddered.
Lifting his head, Sam looked down at Dean who was bleary-eyed and grinning softly.
"I think," Dean said, "you should paint more often."
Sam grinned and kissed Dean on his face where red fingerprints danced alongside his freckles, where Dean's interruption of Sam's Valentine's Day picture had turned into this. The painting now lay, forgotten, on the other side of the room, a trail of clothes leading away from it to the bed where they now caught their breath, and Sam said, "I think I should paint more too."
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
Inside Dean, balls pressed to the curve of his ass, Sam gasped and choked, tried to remember how to breathe. Sweat on his face, hair, dark and wet, clinging to his forehead, and sweat on his back, running down to the base of his spine.
Dean's fingers clutched tightly at his arm. "C'mon, Sam, c'mon," Dean whined, needy and desperate, strained too far. On his back with one leg slung over Sam's bicep, the other sprawled haphazardly to the side as Sam spread him open, fucked him mad.
Sam shook his head. Didn't know if he could come again. Worn out, spent, cock aching from too long--hours unknown--of this. Of doing nothing but sucking and fucking, licking and kissing, and feasting on each other's bodies like the taste of sex was the only thing for which they hungered.
There was lube everywhere, smeared over Dean's hole, slicked on his asscheeks, drying in the thatch of hair around Sam's cock. Sam's hands were sticky with it, and Dean's fingers tasted of it. Sam couldn't remember where the bottle had fallen. They'd probably used it all anyway.
Dean was jacking himself off with soft, guttural noises in the back of his throat as Sam thrust into him, hips working fervently. The room stunk of them--sweat and spunk--and Sam could still taste Dean on his tongue.
With a groan, Dean came, shooting on his stomach and chest, and his fingers tightened, digging deep, into Sam's arm. The momentum of Dean's orgasm pulled Sam down as well, and he tensed, forehead falling onto Dean's chest as his head spun and body shuddered.
Lifting his head, Sam looked down at Dean who was bleary-eyed and grinning softly.
"I think," Dean said, "you should paint more often."
Sam grinned and kissed Dean on his face where red fingerprints danced alongside his freckles, where Dean's interruption of Sam's Valentine's Day picture had turned into this. The painting now lay, forgotten, on the other side of the room, a trail of clothes leading away from it to the bed where they now caught their breath, and Sam said, "I think I should paint more too."
End
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-19 03:22 pm (UTC)I KNOW!! *flails*
I'll come wandering over to your journal to flail you with over there! :D
no subject
Date: 2008-02-19 03:24 pm (UTC)*butts in*
Yeah, like that would be a surprise :-p
no subject
Date: 2008-02-19 03:37 pm (UTC)