PixCT: 10-16
Oct. 16th, 2008 04:36 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
Preseries
~1715 words
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
Sept 07 - Sept 08
DruCT: 09-18
PixCT: 09-18
DruCT: 09-25
PixCT: 09-25
DruCT: 10-02
PixCT: 10-02
DruCT: 10-09
PixCT: 10-09
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 10-16
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
Preseries
~1715 words
- - - - -
Pix's Pic Pick
“So. This is what college kids do on the weekends, huh?”
“Some of them.”
“I figured there’d be more, y’know, parties. Half naked chicks and lots more beer.”
“This is homework.”
“Homework?” Dean turned his head, eyebrow already arched suspiciously. School had never been his specialty but detecting bullshit was.
Sam sighed, admitting defeat. “Extra credit.”
“Right.” Dean paused, let them continue walking down the path in silence for a moment. “I come to see you, and you drag me along for extra credit school stuff?”
“You didn’t exactly give me a lot of notice to change my plans.”
“Yes, I did.”
Sam shook his head and looked down at his notebook when he answered, “Standing outside my door at six in the morning and yelling at me to let you in because you’re here does not count as notice.”
“I could have just broken in. Climbed into that little thing you call a bed.” Dean grinned, as shit-eating as could be. “But, I didn’t want to give you a heart attack that early in the morning.”
“Ha, ha, thanks,” Sam said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. A temporary smile flickered on when a group of classmates passed by. They waved to Sam, said they were almost done, and boy, sure sucks about having to do this on the weekend, huh?
“So, tell me what exactly we’re supposed to be learning here,” Dean said once the girls had passed.
“Like you care.”
“Well…” Dean began, but stopped, decided better. “Okay, no, I don’t, but you apparently do, so, what? Is this like a scavenger hunt or something? Find as many weird ass pieces of art as possible?”
“We just have to identify the different artistic features of the pieces. What period influenced their development. Things like that.”
“And you’re actually paying money to take this class?”
Sam shrugged. “Not really. Scholarship money takes care of that. But, it’s required, so, I take it anyway.”
“Well. If you say so, Sammy. Personally, I’m all for swinging by those naked people again. Thought that was pretty educational myself.”
“I think we’ve had enough Roman and Greek influence for the day,” Sam replied under his breath, remembering Dean’s perverse amusement at the athletic sculptures of the very obviously nude people.
As Dean made another comment about how much learning he was doing that day, they rounded a corner of tall evergreen trees and stopped in front of the massive sculpture before them. Dean’s chatter halted as they both gazed up at the looming structure. It was a chaotic jumble of cut out shapes that twisted and turned their way up to the sky for some forty, perhaps fifty, feet.
Sam stood, awed by the sheer size of the sculpture, and while he gaped, Dean lightly elbowed him in the side.
“All right, artistic features of this piece, um, does ‘big and red’ count?” He laughed lightly at his own humor.
“No,” Sam replied, shaking his head as he pulled out the disposable camera he had purchased. Squinting into the sun, he snapped a photo of the sculpture to develop and take back to his professor as proof that, yes, he really had visited the outdoor sculpture gardens. “It’s abstract art.” He shoved the camera in his shirt pocket, figuring it’d be the safest there.
“Abstract? Yeah, I can see that.” Dean cocked his head. “What is it supposed to be? Bunch of shapes or somethin’…”
Sam didn’t answer him, and instead stepped onto the narrow gravel trail that led up to the base of the sculpture. Dean, still muttering unintelligibly to himself, followed behind.
At the bottom of the structure, Sam stood, peering up through the endless turns of the shapes. The bright red curves glinted in the sun, catching the light and forming playful shadows on the other pieces. For one of the few times in his adult life, he felt small, standing there beneath the base of a red metal jungle. He couldn’t help himself from staring all over again, and it was after a long moment of silence that he lowered his head to see Dean, leaning against one of the legs, smiling at him.
“What?” Sam said, caught between embarrassment and confusion at Dean’s relaxed smile.
“You really like this stuff, don’t ya?”
“Well. It’s okay, I guess. Not much of an art major myself, though.”
“No. Not the art. College. Learning. Going out on the weekend to some ‘sculpture garden’,” he said, using air quotes with his fingers, “instead of sleeping in until two and partying until four the next morning. This is…this really is your bag, isn’t it?”
Sam shrugged. Didn’t know exactly what to say. If he said yes, he felt like he’d be betraying Dean by admitting there was more to life than hunting. If he said no, he felt like he’d be betraying himself by denying that going away to college hadn’t been one of the best decisions he’d ever made.
Dean came closer. “Look, I won’t tell Dad you’re out here playing with a bunch of naked stone dudes and in love with a big bunch of painted steel, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What will you tell him?”
“Dunno. Had a good hunt. Stalked you from the parking lot instead of talking to you like he warned me not to. Saw you had a big ole’ pink mohawk now.”
“Dean,” Sam began, laughing in spite of himself. He could change states, but Dean’s stupid humor never did.
“I’ll tell him that I stayed right in the car, out of sight instead of getting up close and personal with you because Dad knew I’d really want to talk to you.” Dean was standing right in front of Sam now. His eyes were bright in the late afternoon light, and his skin, slightly burned from a full morning of walking outdoors, was pink beneath the spray of freckles on his nose and cheeks. “I’ll tell him that you looked good, looked healthy and happy, and that all those California Raisins were doing you good.”
“Will you?”
“Mm-hm,” Dean nodded, eyes never leaving Sam’s. For a long moment, they both remained silent, listening to the faraway chatter of other visitors and the wind rustling through the trees guarding this sculpture.
“Dean,” Sam said quietly, “I miss—”
Before he could finish, Dean laid a hand over Sam’s mouth. “Don’t.” Something in his eyes flickered.
But all sentimentality was lost when Dean slowly went down to his knees. He brought his hands up, resting them on Sam’s belt buckle.
“Dean, wait,” Sam protested, squirming. “Somebody’s going to see and uh, we’re out here, and…”
“See what?” Dean asked innocently, looking up at Sam through mischievous eyes. “See that I’m just bending down to tie my shoe?”
There were times to argue with Dean, and there were times not to argue with him. This, as he undid Sam’s belt and popped the bottom on his jeans, was one of those times to just not argue. Sam leaned back against one of the legs of the sculptures, letting his notebook fall to the ground mindlessly as he reached for Dean.
When Dean pulled open Sam’s jeans and brought out his cock, he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. He wrapped a hand, large and callused and so fucking perfect, around the shaft, and looked up at Sam, who gazed down through heavy-lidded eyes. This pleasure, this immense rush sweeping its way up his body, made the ache of Dean’s absence all that more painful.
Testing, Dean flicked his wrist, once, twice, until Sam was hard, but it’d been so long that Sam was almost collapsing from that little touch alone.
“You’re going already?” Dean asked, looking up.
“Just,” Sam panted, “just make it quick.”
Dean frowned, disappointed, because they both knew he liked nothing more than teasing Sam for hours, almost bringing him to the verge before denying him until Sam was bursting from a breath of air over his body. Still, Dean opened his mouth over Sam’s cock, sucking hard. His tongue flitted over the head, as he sucked and massaged Sam’s balls with his hand.
Sam groaned, watching saliva dribble out the corners of Dean’s mouth as he bobbed his head, taking more of Sam in before sliding back out again. Feeling the telltale signs of orgasm approaching, Sam put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to push him back.
“Dean, I—I, uh, oh fuck, Dean…”
Instead of pulling off, Dean reached around, grabbing Sam by the waist and pulling him closer. That gesture alone was enough to send Sam crumbling over the edge. He came, choking down a scream that he was sure the whole park would have otherwise heard, with his knuckles going white over Dean’s shoulder. When the wave had passed, he let out a long sigh as Dean stood up.
“Dean…” Sam sighed.
Dean leaned in to kiss him, and they sloppily met, as Sam’s come, salty and bitter passed between them. Sam tasted Dean. He tasted himself. Really, though, he supposed, it was one in the same.
At last, Dean pulled away, smiling. His lips were red and wet, and he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. With the corner of his thumb, he cleaned off the corner of Sam’s lips.
“So,” Dean said and smiled.
“So.”
“I’m a bit disappointed.”
“What? Why?” Sam knew his brain was fuzzed in his post-orgasm bliss, but he wasn’t that fuzzy.
“You didn’t sing for me.”
“Sing?”
Dean pulled out the map of the sculpture garden from his back pocket. He opened it to the page featuring the big red structure they were now standing under. “See?” he said, tapping it with one finger. “You were supposed to sing for me. Sculpture said so.”
Sam shook his head, grinned. “You think you can forgive me?”
Casually, Dean shrugged. “I guess so. Maybe. If you promise to make it up to me at the dorm.”
Sam laughed, pulled him in for another kiss. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I can do that.” They kissed again, still laughing, the both of them, under the sculpture called Aria.
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. This is what college kids do on the weekends, huh?”
“Some of them.”
“I figured there’d be more, y’know, parties. Half naked chicks and lots more beer.”
“This is homework.”
“Homework?” Dean turned his head, eyebrow already arched suspiciously. School had never been his specialty but detecting bullshit was.
Sam sighed, admitting defeat. “Extra credit.”
“Right.” Dean paused, let them continue walking down the path in silence for a moment. “I come to see you, and you drag me along for extra credit school stuff?”
“You didn’t exactly give me a lot of notice to change my plans.”
“Yes, I did.”
Sam shook his head and looked down at his notebook when he answered, “Standing outside my door at six in the morning and yelling at me to let you in because you’re here does not count as notice.”
“I could have just broken in. Climbed into that little thing you call a bed.” Dean grinned, as shit-eating as could be. “But, I didn’t want to give you a heart attack that early in the morning.”
“Ha, ha, thanks,” Sam said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. A temporary smile flickered on when a group of classmates passed by. They waved to Sam, said they were almost done, and boy, sure sucks about having to do this on the weekend, huh?
“So, tell me what exactly we’re supposed to be learning here,” Dean said once the girls had passed.
“Like you care.”
“Well…” Dean began, but stopped, decided better. “Okay, no, I don’t, but you apparently do, so, what? Is this like a scavenger hunt or something? Find as many weird ass pieces of art as possible?”
“We just have to identify the different artistic features of the pieces. What period influenced their development. Things like that.”
“And you’re actually paying money to take this class?”
Sam shrugged. “Not really. Scholarship money takes care of that. But, it’s required, so, I take it anyway.”
“Well. If you say so, Sammy. Personally, I’m all for swinging by those naked people again. Thought that was pretty educational myself.”
“I think we’ve had enough Roman and Greek influence for the day,” Sam replied under his breath, remembering Dean’s perverse amusement at the athletic sculptures of the very obviously nude people.
As Dean made another comment about how much learning he was doing that day, they rounded a corner of tall evergreen trees and stopped in front of the massive sculpture before them. Dean’s chatter halted as they both gazed up at the looming structure. It was a chaotic jumble of cut out shapes that twisted and turned their way up to the sky for some forty, perhaps fifty, feet.
Sam stood, awed by the sheer size of the sculpture, and while he gaped, Dean lightly elbowed him in the side.
“All right, artistic features of this piece, um, does ‘big and red’ count?” He laughed lightly at his own humor.
“No,” Sam replied, shaking his head as he pulled out the disposable camera he had purchased. Squinting into the sun, he snapped a photo of the sculpture to develop and take back to his professor as proof that, yes, he really had visited the outdoor sculpture gardens. “It’s abstract art.” He shoved the camera in his shirt pocket, figuring it’d be the safest there.
“Abstract? Yeah, I can see that.” Dean cocked his head. “What is it supposed to be? Bunch of shapes or somethin’…”
Sam didn’t answer him, and instead stepped onto the narrow gravel trail that led up to the base of the sculpture. Dean, still muttering unintelligibly to himself, followed behind.
At the bottom of the structure, Sam stood, peering up through the endless turns of the shapes. The bright red curves glinted in the sun, catching the light and forming playful shadows on the other pieces. For one of the few times in his adult life, he felt small, standing there beneath the base of a red metal jungle. He couldn’t help himself from staring all over again, and it was after a long moment of silence that he lowered his head to see Dean, leaning against one of the legs, smiling at him.
“What?” Sam said, caught between embarrassment and confusion at Dean’s relaxed smile.
“You really like this stuff, don’t ya?”
“Well. It’s okay, I guess. Not much of an art major myself, though.”
“No. Not the art. College. Learning. Going out on the weekend to some ‘sculpture garden’,” he said, using air quotes with his fingers, “instead of sleeping in until two and partying until four the next morning. This is…this really is your bag, isn’t it?”
Sam shrugged. Didn’t know exactly what to say. If he said yes, he felt like he’d be betraying Dean by admitting there was more to life than hunting. If he said no, he felt like he’d be betraying himself by denying that going away to college hadn’t been one of the best decisions he’d ever made.
Dean came closer. “Look, I won’t tell Dad you’re out here playing with a bunch of naked stone dudes and in love with a big bunch of painted steel, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What will you tell him?”
“Dunno. Had a good hunt. Stalked you from the parking lot instead of talking to you like he warned me not to. Saw you had a big ole’ pink mohawk now.”
“Dean,” Sam began, laughing in spite of himself. He could change states, but Dean’s stupid humor never did.
“I’ll tell him that I stayed right in the car, out of sight instead of getting up close and personal with you because Dad knew I’d really want to talk to you.” Dean was standing right in front of Sam now. His eyes were bright in the late afternoon light, and his skin, slightly burned from a full morning of walking outdoors, was pink beneath the spray of freckles on his nose and cheeks. “I’ll tell him that you looked good, looked healthy and happy, and that all those California Raisins were doing you good.”
“Will you?”
“Mm-hm,” Dean nodded, eyes never leaving Sam’s. For a long moment, they both remained silent, listening to the faraway chatter of other visitors and the wind rustling through the trees guarding this sculpture.
“Dean,” Sam said quietly, “I miss—”
Before he could finish, Dean laid a hand over Sam’s mouth. “Don’t.” Something in his eyes flickered.
But all sentimentality was lost when Dean slowly went down to his knees. He brought his hands up, resting them on Sam’s belt buckle.
“Dean, wait,” Sam protested, squirming. “Somebody’s going to see and uh, we’re out here, and…”
“See what?” Dean asked innocently, looking up at Sam through mischievous eyes. “See that I’m just bending down to tie my shoe?”
There were times to argue with Dean, and there were times not to argue with him. This, as he undid Sam’s belt and popped the bottom on his jeans, was one of those times to just not argue. Sam leaned back against one of the legs of the sculptures, letting his notebook fall to the ground mindlessly as he reached for Dean.
When Dean pulled open Sam’s jeans and brought out his cock, he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. He wrapped a hand, large and callused and so fucking perfect, around the shaft, and looked up at Sam, who gazed down through heavy-lidded eyes. This pleasure, this immense rush sweeping its way up his body, made the ache of Dean’s absence all that more painful.
Testing, Dean flicked his wrist, once, twice, until Sam was hard, but it’d been so long that Sam was almost collapsing from that little touch alone.
“You’re going already?” Dean asked, looking up.
“Just,” Sam panted, “just make it quick.”
Dean frowned, disappointed, because they both knew he liked nothing more than teasing Sam for hours, almost bringing him to the verge before denying him until Sam was bursting from a breath of air over his body. Still, Dean opened his mouth over Sam’s cock, sucking hard. His tongue flitted over the head, as he sucked and massaged Sam’s balls with his hand.
Sam groaned, watching saliva dribble out the corners of Dean’s mouth as he bobbed his head, taking more of Sam in before sliding back out again. Feeling the telltale signs of orgasm approaching, Sam put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to push him back.
“Dean, I—I, uh, oh fuck, Dean…”
Instead of pulling off, Dean reached around, grabbing Sam by the waist and pulling him closer. That gesture alone was enough to send Sam crumbling over the edge. He came, choking down a scream that he was sure the whole park would have otherwise heard, with his knuckles going white over Dean’s shoulder. When the wave had passed, he let out a long sigh as Dean stood up.
“Dean…” Sam sighed.
Dean leaned in to kiss him, and they sloppily met, as Sam’s come, salty and bitter passed between them. Sam tasted Dean. He tasted himself. Really, though, he supposed, it was one in the same.
At last, Dean pulled away, smiling. His lips were red and wet, and he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. With the corner of his thumb, he cleaned off the corner of Sam’s lips.
“So,” Dean said and smiled.
“So.”
“I’m a bit disappointed.”
“What? Why?” Sam knew his brain was fuzzed in his post-orgasm bliss, but he wasn’t that fuzzy.
“You didn’t sing for me.”
“Sing?”
Dean pulled out the map of the sculpture garden from his back pocket. He opened it to the page featuring the big red structure they were now standing under. “See?” he said, tapping it with one finger. “You were supposed to sing for me. Sculpture said so.”
Sam shook his head, grinned. “You think you can forgive me?”
Casually, Dean shrugged. “I guess so. Maybe. If you promise to make it up to me at the dorm.”
Sam laughed, pulled him in for another kiss. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I can do that.” They kissed again, still laughing, the both of them, under the sculpture called Aria.
End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-16 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-16 09:56 pm (UTC)Your writing always moves me so much I barely notice it's Wincest (which in my case is a good thing ;-) )
no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 02:32 am (UTC)Hee, a good thing indeed! Shall we keep it that way? ;D
no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 05:41 am (UTC)*happy sigh*
no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 02:31 am (UTC)*sighs with*
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-31 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-02 09:18 pm (UTC)Thank you!
Also, I think your nickname is so cute, about the porcupines. Hee. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 06:13 pm (UTC)I jacked it off Scrubs where all awesometastic quotes come from :D
no subject
Date: 2008-11-06 07:37 pm (UTC)Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-07 10:24 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!