PixCT: 11-13
Nov. 13th, 2008 02:22 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
~1010 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
DruCT: 11-06
PixCT: 11-06
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 11-13
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~1010 words
- - - - -
Pix's Pic Pick
They arrived on the farm in the late summer when the tomatoes had all been picked but the corn still needed to be gathered. They'd been on the road for two days straight, stopping only to piss and sleep fitfully in their seats because they were driving through nowhere and there wasn’t a motel to be found. Sam wore dark circles under his eyes while Dean sighed with every too-heavy movement he made.
They arrived on the farm, and Dean said to the farmer, Need some help with that? as he gave a nod to the golden, rolling field.
The farmer wasn't used to strangers, especially those who drove around in sleek black cars that weren't from this decade, and he said, What's in it for you two?
Dean shrugged. Tried not to look threatening with the hidden gun bulging in his pocket. Place to sleep for me and my brother for the night. That's it.
The farmer looked from Dean to Sam. He was an old man, well past his prime years of farming, and he didn't have the money for one of those expensive combines. Had to do everything by hand. Finally the farmer sighed and pressed his lips tight, and he said, All right. Guess we can work somethin' out.
Dean smiled. Said, Good, good, glad to hear, sir.
They got right to work, leaving their belongings in the back of the Impala and throwing their jackets over the fence posts. The farmer showed them which rows of corn needed to be cut with sleek scythes, how to snap the bright yellow ears clean off, and the type of knots he wanted tied around the bundles of stalks. He was a patient man, quiet, but patient, and as they worked together, the three of them, they learned the farmer had a son named Mark who was in the service across the ocean and a daughter named Jill who was married with kids out of state. The more they worked, the more he talked, and his voice was comforting, warm with nostalgia.
When the sun was starting to set, the farmer said, Why don't you two come inside for dinner? because he had taken a liking to them, Dean's mile-a-minute mouth and Sam's tempered thoughtfulness.
Inside, Bonnie, the farmer's wife, was setting down extra plates on the little, round table, and she smiled at Sam and Dean when they came inside, ducking their heads to fit through the short doorway.
My, my, you're sure a tall one, aren't you? she said to Sam as they sat down and his knees came up higher than his waist.
He blushed and said, Yes, ma'am and Dean chuckled and said, Sam was just too fond of the spinach when we were growing up, which made everybody laugh then.
At night, after Sam had washed the dishes and Dean dried them, Bonnie said, I'll need to clean out Jill's room if one of you wants to wait a moment. The other one can take Mark's room downstairs.
Dean smiled and told her, Don't worry about it. Sam and I can share a bed.
Bonnie looked surprised and said, You sure? You're both awfully big boys. Don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.
Our dad was in the army, Sam said, speaking for one of the few times. We're used to moving around and sharing a bed. Don't go to the extra trouble of Jill's room. Dean and I can share.
And Bonnie smiled and clucked and patted Sam on the cheek. Said, You two sure are something, aren't you?
Yes, ma'am, said Sam. Definitely something.
They spent that night in the room of a boy who was fighting in a war, just like he and Dean were, only this boy fought against humans instead of monsters of the apocalypse and Hell. In that room, with the moon peeking down at them, they twisted naked together in the sheets, trying to keep quiet with the farmer and his wife sleeping on the floor above their heads.
Sammy, Dean whispered, cupping Sam's face in his hands and kissing him as he curved over Sam. He jerked his hips and slid his cock over Sam's stomach. Whispered, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy like he knew no other word.
Sam threw his arm around the back of Dean's neck and tugged him tight, tugged him close, and he spread his legs to wrap them around Dean's waist. Yeah, Sam hissed, c'mon, Dean, c'mon.
With spit and sweat and slickness from the head of his cock, Dean moved and entered, stretching, filling, pushing, and Sam gasped. He tucked his face tight into the crook of Dean's neck and pressed his fingers into Dean's back to hold on. It was too good. It was too much. It was just right in it all.
They whimpered, voices catching and choking back their cries, as the bed creaked with their weight, with their movements and love. When they were finished, Dean cleaned them off with one of his socks, and he kissed Sam, once, twice, three times and more before he rolled over and let Sam curl around him, bringing their linked fingers as a fist on Dean's chest.
The next day, they finished harvesting the corn, and then they placed the bundled shocks around the house, setting them where Bonnie preferred for her autumn decorations. They set them near the barn with its weathered wood and rusty old signs that the farmer liked so much. When all was finished, the farmer turned to the boys and said, You're more than welcome to stay another night, if you'd like. Know Bonnie would like cooking for more than the two of us.
Dean looked to Sam and Sam looked to Dean, and they both said, Of course we'd like to stay, thank you.
The farmer smiled and took off his hat to wipe his forehead. You two are good kids. Bet your parents are proud of you, working so hard.
This time Sam only smiled tightly, and it was Dean who replied, They sure are. They sure are, sir. Then they followed the farmer up to house, keeping their linked hands hidden behind their backs.
End
"Cowboy Take Me Away" by Dixie Chicks, "Fast Cars and Freedom" by Rascal Flatts, "Alberta Bound" by Paul Brandt
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
They arrived on the farm in the late summer when the tomatoes had all been picked but the corn still needed to be gathered. They'd been on the road for two days straight, stopping only to piss and sleep fitfully in their seats because they were driving through nowhere and there wasn’t a motel to be found. Sam wore dark circles under his eyes while Dean sighed with every too-heavy movement he made.
They arrived on the farm, and Dean said to the farmer, Need some help with that? as he gave a nod to the golden, rolling field.
The farmer wasn't used to strangers, especially those who drove around in sleek black cars that weren't from this decade, and he said, What's in it for you two?
Dean shrugged. Tried not to look threatening with the hidden gun bulging in his pocket. Place to sleep for me and my brother for the night. That's it.
The farmer looked from Dean to Sam. He was an old man, well past his prime years of farming, and he didn't have the money for one of those expensive combines. Had to do everything by hand. Finally the farmer sighed and pressed his lips tight, and he said, All right. Guess we can work somethin' out.
Dean smiled. Said, Good, good, glad to hear, sir.
They got right to work, leaving their belongings in the back of the Impala and throwing their jackets over the fence posts. The farmer showed them which rows of corn needed to be cut with sleek scythes, how to snap the bright yellow ears clean off, and the type of knots he wanted tied around the bundles of stalks. He was a patient man, quiet, but patient, and as they worked together, the three of them, they learned the farmer had a son named Mark who was in the service across the ocean and a daughter named Jill who was married with kids out of state. The more they worked, the more he talked, and his voice was comforting, warm with nostalgia.
When the sun was starting to set, the farmer said, Why don't you two come inside for dinner? because he had taken a liking to them, Dean's mile-a-minute mouth and Sam's tempered thoughtfulness.
Inside, Bonnie, the farmer's wife, was setting down extra plates on the little, round table, and she smiled at Sam and Dean when they came inside, ducking their heads to fit through the short doorway.
My, my, you're sure a tall one, aren't you? she said to Sam as they sat down and his knees came up higher than his waist.
He blushed and said, Yes, ma'am and Dean chuckled and said, Sam was just too fond of the spinach when we were growing up, which made everybody laugh then.
At night, after Sam had washed the dishes and Dean dried them, Bonnie said, I'll need to clean out Jill's room if one of you wants to wait a moment. The other one can take Mark's room downstairs.
Dean smiled and told her, Don't worry about it. Sam and I can share a bed.
Bonnie looked surprised and said, You sure? You're both awfully big boys. Don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.
Our dad was in the army, Sam said, speaking for one of the few times. We're used to moving around and sharing a bed. Don't go to the extra trouble of Jill's room. Dean and I can share.
And Bonnie smiled and clucked and patted Sam on the cheek. Said, You two sure are something, aren't you?
Yes, ma'am, said Sam. Definitely something.
They spent that night in the room of a boy who was fighting in a war, just like he and Dean were, only this boy fought against humans instead of monsters of the apocalypse and Hell. In that room, with the moon peeking down at them, they twisted naked together in the sheets, trying to keep quiet with the farmer and his wife sleeping on the floor above their heads.
Sammy, Dean whispered, cupping Sam's face in his hands and kissing him as he curved over Sam. He jerked his hips and slid his cock over Sam's stomach. Whispered, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy like he knew no other word.
Sam threw his arm around the back of Dean's neck and tugged him tight, tugged him close, and he spread his legs to wrap them around Dean's waist. Yeah, Sam hissed, c'mon, Dean, c'mon.
With spit and sweat and slickness from the head of his cock, Dean moved and entered, stretching, filling, pushing, and Sam gasped. He tucked his face tight into the crook of Dean's neck and pressed his fingers into Dean's back to hold on. It was too good. It was too much. It was just right in it all.
They whimpered, voices catching and choking back their cries, as the bed creaked with their weight, with their movements and love. When they were finished, Dean cleaned them off with one of his socks, and he kissed Sam, once, twice, three times and more before he rolled over and let Sam curl around him, bringing their linked fingers as a fist on Dean's chest.
The next day, they finished harvesting the corn, and then they placed the bundled shocks around the house, setting them where Bonnie preferred for her autumn decorations. They set them near the barn with its weathered wood and rusty old signs that the farmer liked so much. When all was finished, the farmer turned to the boys and said, You're more than welcome to stay another night, if you'd like. Know Bonnie would like cooking for more than the two of us.
Dean looked to Sam and Sam looked to Dean, and they both said, Of course we'd like to stay, thank you.
The farmer smiled and took off his hat to wipe his forehead. You two are good kids. Bet your parents are proud of you, working so hard.
This time Sam only smiled tightly, and it was Dean who replied, They sure are. They sure are, sir. Then they followed the farmer up to house, keeping their linked hands hidden behind their backs.
End
"Cowboy Take Me Away" by Dixie Chicks, "Fast Cars and Freedom" by Rascal Flatts, "Alberta Bound" by Paul Brandt
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 07:23 pm (UTC)