PixCT: 11-06
Nov. 6th, 2008 03:43 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
~1700 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
Sept/Oct 08
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 11-06
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~1700 words
- - - - -
Dru's Pic Pick
She warned them not to enter the forest. Not to enter unless they were ready and able to go back without regrets. It wasn’t a threat, she had said, just a friendly warning. Now, they stood at the edge of the trees, peering through shadows and split sunlight.
"What do you suppose she meant?" Sam asked as he fussed with the strap of his bag.
Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly? Don't care." He took a long drink of water from one of their bottles before shoving it back into his own duffel. "I'm sure it has something to do with the demon and how you're going to go dark side and kill us all unless angels come to save our asses."
"Dean..." Sam warned, the subject of a possible demonic apocalypse still making him uncomfortable.
"Well. Just sayin', Sammy. Everybody seems to have a hit out for you. She probably just wanted us to stay here with her instead of going back to the cold, hard reality," Dean replied, referring to the old woman who wasn't quite a witch but wasn't quite human. She had let the boys stay with her for a few days after Sam was attacked by a black dog near her property. After three days of good food and warm beds, Sam was up and walking, feeling as good as he would with seven stitches in his side.
"I'm voting we just walk through it,” Dean continued. “We'll be fine."
Sam looked down at Dean. "If you say so," he said.
"I do say so. Fastest way back to the car, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, although it wasn't the strongest agreement he'd ever given. "Don't even know if we can walk around the forest."
"Well, we could always head back and take that path where you got mauled by the dog," Dean said as he walked into the woods.
Sam grimaced, irritated. "No thanks. I don't like reliving the feeling of getting my side chewed open, Dean."
Dean chuckled, ducking underneath a low-hanging pine branch, with Sam not far behind. Everything was quiet, the trees holding their breath around him, as Sam and he walked together. The only sound was the soft crunch-crunch of their boots over the thick layer of golden needles on the ground. The floor of the forest gave slightly beneath his feet, the feeling that if he were to lie down, it'd be as soft as a mattress.
"Dean, I think we're lost," Sam said some time later, pulling back the sleeve of his coat to look down at his watch. Above, the sky was darkening with the onset of night, and the pools of sunlight on the forest floor were shrinking, disappearing into the darkness.
"We're not lost. We've got to be getting close to the end."
Sam sighed. "Do you have a compass?"
"In the car?"
Sam shook his head, and before he could launch into a tirade, Dean said, "We'll be fine. Look, if we need to, we can rest a bit for the night. Just take turns standing watch, okay? Then in the morning, we'll have light and we can find our way outta here. Easy as that. But, let's see if we can keep going. Make some progress anyway."
"All right, fine," Sam grumbled. "Whatever." He was touchier than usual, Dean thought. Not that Dean could blame him, seven stitches in his side and all. Sam wouldn't outright complain about the pain unless it was truly unbearable, but given that it'd been a while since he'd taken anything for it, his side had to be aching.
They pushed onward for a bit more until it was too dark to see. They could have gotten out the flashlights, continued despite the darkness, but Sam was starting to breathe heavily, a bit ragged, and Dean knew the pain was finally getting the better of him.
"C'mon, Sammy," he said, holding out his arms for Sam. "We'll take it easy for a bit."
Sam nodded, weary but unwilling to admit to such. He eased down next to Dean, who sank down to sit at the base of one of the trees.
"You okay?" Dean asked as Sam leaned into him, his head coming to rest on Dean's chest, below his collarbone. He lay on his side, legs sprawled out behind him.
"Yeah...yeah, I'll be all right," Sam replied, but his words were weak. One arm was curled over his stomach, fingers disappearing beneath his coat, undoubtedly checking the stitches, and his other hand rested in Dean's lap, loose fist resting on denim.
Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "Stitches didn't tear, did they?" he asked.
"No, no, they're still there. Just, y'know, hurts."
Wrapping an arm around Sam, Dean laughed lightly, although not at Sam's expense. "Yeah, I’m sure it does. Fucking black dogs. Got teeth like a t-rex."
Sam snorted. "Because you've met a t-rex to know."
"Don't doubt me."
They fell back into silence again as Sam's breathing evened out and the sun finally sank completely beneath the sky.
"Feeling better now?" Dean asked a while later.
"Yeah. We can keep going if you want. I'll be all right."
"Nah, we can take it easy for a bit." To emphasize his point, Dean pulled out his gun from his coat pocket and set it on his leg. "We'll be just fine here. Nothing'll touch us."
Sam nodded, deciding--for once--not to argue. He was too easy when he was tired and hurt, Dean thought. Could make him do almost anything.
As they sat together, Dean moved his arm off Sam's shoulder and down to the button of his jeans.
"Dean, wha..." Sam began, pulled from thin sleep when Dean popped the button of Sam's pants.
"Ssh, ssh," Dean whispered, resting his cheek against the top of Sam's head. "Just lemme know if it's too much, okay? Don't want you to be in pain." He slipped his hand into Sam's jeans, pushing aside underwear until his hand closed around Sam's cock.
Sam groaned, while he shifted against Dean's side and tried to spread his legs. His fingers tightened, grabbing the denim of Dean's jeans in a bunch, as Dean jacked him off, slow and steady. He didn't quicken his stroke, even as Sam moaned and huffed, twisting against him helplessly.
"Dean, Dean," Sam whispered.
"Yeah, Sammy, yeah, you almost there?" His voice was a rasp within the trees' silence.
Sam stiffened, legs going rigid when he came, choking out Dean's name in the darkness. Carefully, Dean held his cock, catching the slick come to avoid dirtying the inside of Sam's jeans as Sam spilled over. When, at last, Sam caught his breath again, Dean pulled out his hand, smeared and messy, and he flicked his fingers to splatter the come on the ground before wiping off the rest on his jeans.
"Feel better?" Dean asked.
"Shut up," Sam replied, but his words were only full of laughter, no real menace held.
Dean smiled, buttoning up Sam before kissing the top of his head. "Go on and sleep," he said. "I'll keep watch."
Sam nodded and yawned and dozed off shortly after.
When the sun rose again, Dean realized he must have fallen asleep as well because he was opening his eyes as the first rays of light shot through the branches. Now, in the daylight, he saw that they were almost at the end of the forest and that they could soon leave.
He smiled, happy that Sam wouldn't have to walk much farther. When he went to wake Sam up, Dean froze at seeing a small boy curled up against his side.
"Um," Dean began, and the boy stirred before looking up at him.
"Hey, Dean," the boy said, and something inside Dean fell away when he looked at the little face again.
"Sammy?" he croaked out.
The boy's face twisted, tightened, and he said, "You okay, Dean? You look upset."
Dean nodded jerkily. His mind was grappling, fighting to remember the events of last night, but memories were fading faster than he could hold onto them. They'd come here, rested because Sam was hurt, but why had he been hurt? Why were they in these forests?
"Are you okay?" Dean asked, looking down at his hands, which were now smaller. Younger. His legs shorter too.
"Me? Yeah, 'm fine. The pine needles weren't very comfortable, though." He frowned, fat baby lips on his chubby little face. He couldn't have been much older than ten, maybe twelve at the most, perhaps.
Before Dean could reply, he heard someone calling his name, and he looked up in the direction of the voice.
"Dad?" he whispered to himself. He couldn't remember, couldn't be sure, but something inside of him said that Dad wasn't supposed to be here.
"I got us breakfast," Dad said, coming into the trees as Sammy stood up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He smiled. "Didn't expect you two to doze off so quickly."
"Dad?" Dean said again, his voice cracking.
Dad crouched down next to Dean as Sammy wandered off to pee behind a tree. "You okay, Dean? Look like something's got you spooked. Did something happen while I was gone?"
Dean shook his head. The uneasy, unfamiliar feeling of this was leaving him as he slowly remembered the details of how Dad had let Sammy and he play here for a bit while Dad went to get breakfast from the gas station down the road. "No, everything's fine."
"All right." Dad nodded and rose to his feet. He extended a hand to Dean and pulled him up. "We've got to get going. Got a long drive ahead of us," he said to the boys.
The Impala waited at the edge of the forest, windows rolled down as the three of them clambered inside, Dad in the front and Dean and Sammy in the back. As Dad started the engine, Sammy curled up against Dean, already sleepy once again.
"Dean?" he said.
"Hm?"
"I guess she was right after all."
"Who? Who was right?" Dean asked, confused.
"The lady," Sammy said, yawning. "The lady. The one we talked to..." His words trailed off, becoming quieter as he snuggled closer to Dean. "We went back, Dean..." He sighed, satisfied and easy. "So glad we did...get a second chance," he whispered. "So glad..."
And so was Dean.
End
"Wish You Well" by Thousand Foot Krutch
Fic:
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
- - - - -
Today
Dru's Pic Pick
She warned them not to enter the forest. Not to enter unless they were ready and able to go back without regrets. It wasn’t a threat, she had said, just a friendly warning. Now, they stood at the edge of the trees, peering through shadows and split sunlight.
"What do you suppose she meant?" Sam asked as he fussed with the strap of his bag.
Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly? Don't care." He took a long drink of water from one of their bottles before shoving it back into his own duffel. "I'm sure it has something to do with the demon and how you're going to go dark side and kill us all unless angels come to save our asses."
"Dean..." Sam warned, the subject of a possible demonic apocalypse still making him uncomfortable.
"Well. Just sayin', Sammy. Everybody seems to have a hit out for you. She probably just wanted us to stay here with her instead of going back to the cold, hard reality," Dean replied, referring to the old woman who wasn't quite a witch but wasn't quite human. She had let the boys stay with her for a few days after Sam was attacked by a black dog near her property. After three days of good food and warm beds, Sam was up and walking, feeling as good as he would with seven stitches in his side.
"I'm voting we just walk through it,” Dean continued. “We'll be fine."
Sam looked down at Dean. "If you say so," he said.
"I do say so. Fastest way back to the car, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, although it wasn't the strongest agreement he'd ever given. "Don't even know if we can walk around the forest."
"Well, we could always head back and take that path where you got mauled by the dog," Dean said as he walked into the woods.
Sam grimaced, irritated. "No thanks. I don't like reliving the feeling of getting my side chewed open, Dean."
Dean chuckled, ducking underneath a low-hanging pine branch, with Sam not far behind. Everything was quiet, the trees holding their breath around him, as Sam and he walked together. The only sound was the soft crunch-crunch of their boots over the thick layer of golden needles on the ground. The floor of the forest gave slightly beneath his feet, the feeling that if he were to lie down, it'd be as soft as a mattress.
"Dean, I think we're lost," Sam said some time later, pulling back the sleeve of his coat to look down at his watch. Above, the sky was darkening with the onset of night, and the pools of sunlight on the forest floor were shrinking, disappearing into the darkness.
"We're not lost. We've got to be getting close to the end."
Sam sighed. "Do you have a compass?"
"In the car?"
Sam shook his head, and before he could launch into a tirade, Dean said, "We'll be fine. Look, if we need to, we can rest a bit for the night. Just take turns standing watch, okay? Then in the morning, we'll have light and we can find our way outta here. Easy as that. But, let's see if we can keep going. Make some progress anyway."
"All right, fine," Sam grumbled. "Whatever." He was touchier than usual, Dean thought. Not that Dean could blame him, seven stitches in his side and all. Sam wouldn't outright complain about the pain unless it was truly unbearable, but given that it'd been a while since he'd taken anything for it, his side had to be aching.
They pushed onward for a bit more until it was too dark to see. They could have gotten out the flashlights, continued despite the darkness, but Sam was starting to breathe heavily, a bit ragged, and Dean knew the pain was finally getting the better of him.
"C'mon, Sammy," he said, holding out his arms for Sam. "We'll take it easy for a bit."
Sam nodded, weary but unwilling to admit to such. He eased down next to Dean, who sank down to sit at the base of one of the trees.
"You okay?" Dean asked as Sam leaned into him, his head coming to rest on Dean's chest, below his collarbone. He lay on his side, legs sprawled out behind him.
"Yeah...yeah, I'll be all right," Sam replied, but his words were weak. One arm was curled over his stomach, fingers disappearing beneath his coat, undoubtedly checking the stitches, and his other hand rested in Dean's lap, loose fist resting on denim.
Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "Stitches didn't tear, did they?" he asked.
"No, no, they're still there. Just, y'know, hurts."
Wrapping an arm around Sam, Dean laughed lightly, although not at Sam's expense. "Yeah, I’m sure it does. Fucking black dogs. Got teeth like a t-rex."
Sam snorted. "Because you've met a t-rex to know."
"Don't doubt me."
They fell back into silence again as Sam's breathing evened out and the sun finally sank completely beneath the sky.
"Feeling better now?" Dean asked a while later.
"Yeah. We can keep going if you want. I'll be all right."
"Nah, we can take it easy for a bit." To emphasize his point, Dean pulled out his gun from his coat pocket and set it on his leg. "We'll be just fine here. Nothing'll touch us."
Sam nodded, deciding--for once--not to argue. He was too easy when he was tired and hurt, Dean thought. Could make him do almost anything.
As they sat together, Dean moved his arm off Sam's shoulder and down to the button of his jeans.
"Dean, wha..." Sam began, pulled from thin sleep when Dean popped the button of Sam's pants.
"Ssh, ssh," Dean whispered, resting his cheek against the top of Sam's head. "Just lemme know if it's too much, okay? Don't want you to be in pain." He slipped his hand into Sam's jeans, pushing aside underwear until his hand closed around Sam's cock.
Sam groaned, while he shifted against Dean's side and tried to spread his legs. His fingers tightened, grabbing the denim of Dean's jeans in a bunch, as Dean jacked him off, slow and steady. He didn't quicken his stroke, even as Sam moaned and huffed, twisting against him helplessly.
"Dean, Dean," Sam whispered.
"Yeah, Sammy, yeah, you almost there?" His voice was a rasp within the trees' silence.
Sam stiffened, legs going rigid when he came, choking out Dean's name in the darkness. Carefully, Dean held his cock, catching the slick come to avoid dirtying the inside of Sam's jeans as Sam spilled over. When, at last, Sam caught his breath again, Dean pulled out his hand, smeared and messy, and he flicked his fingers to splatter the come on the ground before wiping off the rest on his jeans.
"Feel better?" Dean asked.
"Shut up," Sam replied, but his words were only full of laughter, no real menace held.
Dean smiled, buttoning up Sam before kissing the top of his head. "Go on and sleep," he said. "I'll keep watch."
Sam nodded and yawned and dozed off shortly after.
When the sun rose again, Dean realized he must have fallen asleep as well because he was opening his eyes as the first rays of light shot through the branches. Now, in the daylight, he saw that they were almost at the end of the forest and that they could soon leave.
He smiled, happy that Sam wouldn't have to walk much farther. When he went to wake Sam up, Dean froze at seeing a small boy curled up against his side.
"Um," Dean began, and the boy stirred before looking up at him.
"Hey, Dean," the boy said, and something inside Dean fell away when he looked at the little face again.
"Sammy?" he croaked out.
The boy's face twisted, tightened, and he said, "You okay, Dean? You look upset."
Dean nodded jerkily. His mind was grappling, fighting to remember the events of last night, but memories were fading faster than he could hold onto them. They'd come here, rested because Sam was hurt, but why had he been hurt? Why were they in these forests?
"Are you okay?" Dean asked, looking down at his hands, which were now smaller. Younger. His legs shorter too.
"Me? Yeah, 'm fine. The pine needles weren't very comfortable, though." He frowned, fat baby lips on his chubby little face. He couldn't have been much older than ten, maybe twelve at the most, perhaps.
Before Dean could reply, he heard someone calling his name, and he looked up in the direction of the voice.
"Dad?" he whispered to himself. He couldn't remember, couldn't be sure, but something inside of him said that Dad wasn't supposed to be here.
"I got us breakfast," Dad said, coming into the trees as Sammy stood up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He smiled. "Didn't expect you two to doze off so quickly."
"Dad?" Dean said again, his voice cracking.
Dad crouched down next to Dean as Sammy wandered off to pee behind a tree. "You okay, Dean? Look like something's got you spooked. Did something happen while I was gone?"
Dean shook his head. The uneasy, unfamiliar feeling of this was leaving him as he slowly remembered the details of how Dad had let Sammy and he play here for a bit while Dad went to get breakfast from the gas station down the road. "No, everything's fine."
"All right." Dad nodded and rose to his feet. He extended a hand to Dean and pulled him up. "We've got to get going. Got a long drive ahead of us," he said to the boys.
The Impala waited at the edge of the forest, windows rolled down as the three of them clambered inside, Dad in the front and Dean and Sammy in the back. As Dad started the engine, Sammy curled up against Dean, already sleepy once again.
"Dean?" he said.
"Hm?"
"I guess she was right after all."
"Who? Who was right?" Dean asked, confused.
"The lady," Sammy said, yawning. "The lady. The one we talked to..." His words trailed off, becoming quieter as he snuggled closer to Dean. "We went back, Dean..." He sighed, satisfied and easy. "So glad we did...get a second chance," he whispered. "So glad..."
And so was Dean.
End
"Wish You Well" by Thousand Foot Krutch
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