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Oct. 11th, 2006 07:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsI have to say a very happy birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dine. I hope you have a fabulous day!
Today birthday cards have been bought, errands done, a long overdue beta almost completed, comments hacked into, flist read, other half not suffocated and kidlet delivered to karate. If only every day could be the same. Sadly, no con report yet, but it too shall come.
For now all I have to offer is more five things memes. Yes I know, more of them, but I swear this is one meme I'll complete. I only have two people to go, well two and a half as I owe two for this one, but who's counting?
So,castalie asked me for Five Ways Dean Bottomed for Sam. Which was evil, because I've written Supernatural once, very briefly, and tend to shy from writing sex at all. But, it's Mouse and I adore her, so I tried. Like I said, only three for now as I need to go pick up Corey, but I needed a post and well, Mouse seems to think they don't suck.
Five Ways Dean Bottomed for Sam
There’s blood on the pillow. Starburst splatters of red against grimy white. Head down, fingers digging into rumpled sheets, Dean inhales harshly, drawing in air over torn flesh and slick teeth. He tenses his hands, pain flaring through spilt knuckles as fresh blood stains his fingers.
“Dean. I don’t think….”
“Then don’t.”
Back bowed, thigh muscles burning, Dean pushes back, frustrated as Sam matches the movement with his own weak thrust.
“Come on, Sam. Fuck me.” New anger layered on old, Dean relaxes his arms, cheek against the stained pillow and knees wide.
“God damn it, Dean.”
A flare of anger, want and need. Sam’s hands are on Dean’s sides, fingers digging as he thrusts. Dean is pushed forward, gasping, his cheek scraping across the pillow.
“Knew you had it in you, Sammy.” Deliberately taunting, and Dean presses his hand against his split lip, letting the blood seep between his clenched fist. He never closes his eyes. Instead he keeps looking forward, close ups of skin and blood, his eyes itchy and dry as Sam picks up his rhythm, his breathing harsh in the silence of the room.
Dean concentrates on the sound of lube slick skin, the heat of Sam’s hands. He breathes with each push inside, a burning warmth as Dean’s focus crystallises until all that matter is now. All he feels is Sam.
Hundreds of nights in hundreds of rooms and Dean knows that Sam is close. Teeth digging into his lip, he gasps as Sam slams forward one last time. He stills, buried ball deep and Dean can’t help whimpering when Sam moans.
“Dean.” Sam leans forward, his hair tickling along Dean’s back.
Dean’s expecting an I love you, or some other kind of timelife movie crap. Sam pulls out without saying another word.
Hiding a grimace, Dean twists so he’s sitting upright. There are speckles of blood across his chest, and his hands are coated, blood mixed with mucus and snot. He wipes them on the ruined pillow case, defiantly meeting Sam’s gaze.
“You know your anger’s misdirected,” Sam comments. He glances at Dean, then pulls clean clothes from his bag. “I’m taking first shower.”
Dean shrugs. A few bar fights and Sam thinks he’s some kind of shrink, and he’s wrong. Dean’s anger isn’t misplaced at all.
~*~*~*~
“So, what now?”
Dean’s hands are over his groin. The bedspread is itchy against his bare ass, and there’s a draft coming from the window. If Sam doesn’t hurry up this is going to be over before it begins.
“How am I supposed to know?!” Sam throws up his arms, glaring as Dean’s gaze drops.
“You looked things up didn’t you?” Dean glares back. How can he not look when Sam’s dick is just there.
“Funny, but the sites I checked didn’t include a step by step guide to deflowering your brother.”
Outraged, Dean stands, facing up to Sam. “One, what kind of idiot uses a word like deflower? Two, who says you’re deflowering me?!”
“I just thought….”
“What? That you’re taller so I’m the chick? Not happening, dude.”
“If you’d let me finish.” Sam pauses, hand on one hip. “I thought that as you liked to be fingered so much, you’d like me to top.”
“Pretty big assumption there, Sammy. And who says I like to be fingered?”
“Rebecca Boothwrite. I overheard her on the phone.”
“Oh.” Dean takes a step back, remembering Rebecca Boothwrite, a stacked blonde left behind years and a lifetime before. “Did she say anything else?”
“She said you had a dick like a limp noodle and went off at the slightest touch.”
“Limp noodle; does this look like a limp noodle?” Dean wraps his fingers around his dick, pointing it toward Sam.
“You know, instead of waving that around, why don’t you do something with it.”
“I thought you wanted to deflower me?”
“I do! But I thought.” Sam throws his hands in the air. “You’re impossible.”
“So they tell me.” Dean grins, on surer footing now as he sits and pats the bed. “Come and show me what you’ve got.”
“Finally.” The words are muttered as Sam sits close. Tentatively he places his hand on Dean’s thigh, then bends for a kiss. Brushes his lips against Dean’s, feels the soft exhale of air against his face as Dean sighs. A quick touch of tongue, and Sam darts out his own to meet it, then abruptly pulls back, hand held to his face. “You bit me!”
“You surprised me!” Dean scowls, but his expression softens as he looks at Sam. “Lets try again.”
They do, and it’s better this time. Sam’s hand fits perfectly in the dip of Dean’s back. Dean finds the perfect spots as he mouths across Sam’s neck, slow licks of tongue, then he’s moving downward, over the ridge of collar bone, looking up as he flicks his tongue across Sam’s nipple.
“Fuck.” Sam shivers, licking along his dry lips. “Do that again.” Dean does, grinning as he makes Sam moan.
“I’m going to try something else.”
Sam opens his eyes, and every nerve ending seems to crowd to his dick when Dean suddenly pushes himself up, bending so he can take Sam in his mouth. It’s unexpected and overwhelming and Sam’s back arches involuntarily. Dean gags, and his teeth catch, and Sam’s caught between pleasure and pain, concern and amusement as he watches Dean cough.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Dean rubs at his tearing eyes, and looks at Sam’s rapidly deflating dick. “Do you want to fuck me now?”
There’s only one answer, and soon Sam’s kneeling on the bed, new tube of lube in one hand, using the other to rub over the swell of Dean’s ass. Lingering touches as he memorises soft skin, the bump of a mole, the faint freckles scattered on Dean’s back.
“Sometime today.”
Sam starts, fingers clenching and lube squirts from the tube, landing on Dean’s back.
“Jesus, Sam. That’s cold.” Dean turns his head, glaring once more as Sam hurriedly scoops his fingers through the lube.
“Okay, already.” Coating his fingers, Sam slides them along the crease of Dean’s ass, romance draining away as he tries to remember if it’s one finger then stretch, or two and how long is he supposed to prep for anyway? Sam doesn’t know, and these sites suck and don’t do their job at all.
“Sam!”
Heeding the warning growl, Sam slips a finger inside Dean. It feel good, tight and hot, but Dean’s trying not to tense as Sam goes deeper. Sam pulls out his finger, wiping it on the bedsheet.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Head in his hands, his hair falls in front of his face.
“Like I do.” Dean’s sitting close to Sam, and nudges his with his shoulder. “I haven’t a clue, Sam. But we’ll keep trying until we do.”
He smiles, then picks up the lube. Sam takes it, and they try again.
~*~*~*~
You never thought this was wrong, because everything in this world is wrong. You’ve
learned to live with it, this off kilter screwy existence where demons roam and you walk just that half step off to the rest of the world.
Normal rules don’t apply. When you’re running from monsters and fear is a tangible thing, who cares if Dean’s your brother?
Arms braced against the mattress, Dean’s legs wrapped around his back, Sam knows in this world of darkness, labels don’t mean a thing.
dine. I hope you have a fabulous day!Today birthday cards have been bought, errands done, a long overdue beta almost completed, comments hacked into, flist read, other half not suffocated and kidlet delivered to karate. If only every day could be the same. Sadly, no con report yet, but it too shall come.
For now all I have to offer is more five things memes. Yes I know, more of them, but I swear this is one meme I'll complete. I only have two people to go, well two and a half as I owe two for this one, but who's counting?
So,
castalie asked me for Five Ways Dean Bottomed for Sam. Which was evil, because I've written Supernatural once, very briefly, and tend to shy from writing sex at all. But, it's Mouse and I adore her, so I tried. Like I said, only three for now as I need to go pick up Corey, but I needed a post and well, Mouse seems to think they don't suck.Five Ways Dean Bottomed for Sam
There’s blood on the pillow. Starburst splatters of red against grimy white. Head down, fingers digging into rumpled sheets, Dean inhales harshly, drawing in air over torn flesh and slick teeth. He tenses his hands, pain flaring through spilt knuckles as fresh blood stains his fingers.
“Dean. I don’t think….”
“Then don’t.”
Back bowed, thigh muscles burning, Dean pushes back, frustrated as Sam matches the movement with his own weak thrust.
“Come on, Sam. Fuck me.” New anger layered on old, Dean relaxes his arms, cheek against the stained pillow and knees wide.
“God damn it, Dean.”
A flare of anger, want and need. Sam’s hands are on Dean’s sides, fingers digging as he thrusts. Dean is pushed forward, gasping, his cheek scraping across the pillow.
“Knew you had it in you, Sammy.” Deliberately taunting, and Dean presses his hand against his split lip, letting the blood seep between his clenched fist. He never closes his eyes. Instead he keeps looking forward, close ups of skin and blood, his eyes itchy and dry as Sam picks up his rhythm, his breathing harsh in the silence of the room.
Dean concentrates on the sound of lube slick skin, the heat of Sam’s hands. He breathes with each push inside, a burning warmth as Dean’s focus crystallises until all that matter is now. All he feels is Sam.
Hundreds of nights in hundreds of rooms and Dean knows that Sam is close. Teeth digging into his lip, he gasps as Sam slams forward one last time. He stills, buried ball deep and Dean can’t help whimpering when Sam moans.
“Dean.” Sam leans forward, his hair tickling along Dean’s back.
Dean’s expecting an I love you, or some other kind of timelife movie crap. Sam pulls out without saying another word.
Hiding a grimace, Dean twists so he’s sitting upright. There are speckles of blood across his chest, and his hands are coated, blood mixed with mucus and snot. He wipes them on the ruined pillow case, defiantly meeting Sam’s gaze.
“You know your anger’s misdirected,” Sam comments. He glances at Dean, then pulls clean clothes from his bag. “I’m taking first shower.”
Dean shrugs. A few bar fights and Sam thinks he’s some kind of shrink, and he’s wrong. Dean’s anger isn’t misplaced at all.
~*~*~*~
“So, what now?”
Dean’s hands are over his groin. The bedspread is itchy against his bare ass, and there’s a draft coming from the window. If Sam doesn’t hurry up this is going to be over before it begins.
“How am I supposed to know?!” Sam throws up his arms, glaring as Dean’s gaze drops.
“You looked things up didn’t you?” Dean glares back. How can he not look when Sam’s dick is just there.
“Funny, but the sites I checked didn’t include a step by step guide to deflowering your brother.”
Outraged, Dean stands, facing up to Sam. “One, what kind of idiot uses a word like deflower? Two, who says you’re deflowering me?!”
“I just thought….”
“What? That you’re taller so I’m the chick? Not happening, dude.”
“If you’d let me finish.” Sam pauses, hand on one hip. “I thought that as you liked to be fingered so much, you’d like me to top.”
“Pretty big assumption there, Sammy. And who says I like to be fingered?”
“Rebecca Boothwrite. I overheard her on the phone.”
“Oh.” Dean takes a step back, remembering Rebecca Boothwrite, a stacked blonde left behind years and a lifetime before. “Did she say anything else?”
“She said you had a dick like a limp noodle and went off at the slightest touch.”
“Limp noodle; does this look like a limp noodle?” Dean wraps his fingers around his dick, pointing it toward Sam.
“You know, instead of waving that around, why don’t you do something with it.”
“I thought you wanted to deflower me?”
“I do! But I thought.” Sam throws his hands in the air. “You’re impossible.”
“So they tell me.” Dean grins, on surer footing now as he sits and pats the bed. “Come and show me what you’ve got.”
“Finally.” The words are muttered as Sam sits close. Tentatively he places his hand on Dean’s thigh, then bends for a kiss. Brushes his lips against Dean’s, feels the soft exhale of air against his face as Dean sighs. A quick touch of tongue, and Sam darts out his own to meet it, then abruptly pulls back, hand held to his face. “You bit me!”
“You surprised me!” Dean scowls, but his expression softens as he looks at Sam. “Lets try again.”
They do, and it’s better this time. Sam’s hand fits perfectly in the dip of Dean’s back. Dean finds the perfect spots as he mouths across Sam’s neck, slow licks of tongue, then he’s moving downward, over the ridge of collar bone, looking up as he flicks his tongue across Sam’s nipple.
“Fuck.” Sam shivers, licking along his dry lips. “Do that again.” Dean does, grinning as he makes Sam moan.
“I’m going to try something else.”
Sam opens his eyes, and every nerve ending seems to crowd to his dick when Dean suddenly pushes himself up, bending so he can take Sam in his mouth. It’s unexpected and overwhelming and Sam’s back arches involuntarily. Dean gags, and his teeth catch, and Sam’s caught between pleasure and pain, concern and amusement as he watches Dean cough.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Dean rubs at his tearing eyes, and looks at Sam’s rapidly deflating dick. “Do you want to fuck me now?”
There’s only one answer, and soon Sam’s kneeling on the bed, new tube of lube in one hand, using the other to rub over the swell of Dean’s ass. Lingering touches as he memorises soft skin, the bump of a mole, the faint freckles scattered on Dean’s back.
“Sometime today.”
Sam starts, fingers clenching and lube squirts from the tube, landing on Dean’s back.
“Jesus, Sam. That’s cold.” Dean turns his head, glaring once more as Sam hurriedly scoops his fingers through the lube.
“Okay, already.” Coating his fingers, Sam slides them along the crease of Dean’s ass, romance draining away as he tries to remember if it’s one finger then stretch, or two and how long is he supposed to prep for anyway? Sam doesn’t know, and these sites suck and don’t do their job at all.
“Sam!”
Heeding the warning growl, Sam slips a finger inside Dean. It feel good, tight and hot, but Dean’s trying not to tense as Sam goes deeper. Sam pulls out his finger, wiping it on the bedsheet.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Head in his hands, his hair falls in front of his face.
“Like I do.” Dean’s sitting close to Sam, and nudges his with his shoulder. “I haven’t a clue, Sam. But we’ll keep trying until we do.”
He smiles, then picks up the lube. Sam takes it, and they try again.
~*~*~*~
You never thought this was wrong, because everything in this world is wrong. You’ve
learned to live with it, this off kilter screwy existence where demons roam and you walk just that half step off to the rest of the world.
Normal rules don’t apply. When you’re running from monsters and fear is a tangible thing, who cares if Dean’s your brother?
Arms braced against the mattress, Dean’s legs wrapped around his back, Sam knows in this world of darkness, labels don’t mean a thing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 09:29 pm (UTC)You people are all the same *g*
I'm shy you know, writing sex doesn't come easily.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 09:34 pm (UTC)I'm pretending to be shy and innocent here!
*fans self*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 09:37 pm (UTC)YAY!
shy and innocent
Pffffft!
no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 09:52 pm (UTC)JC gives many people hot flashes, because he's a dirty boy!
I'm totally innocent. I have the shiniest halo ever :D
no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 10:11 pm (UTC)It doesn't count if you're the one shinning it all the time.
;)