3 SPN drabbles. Sam/Dean. NC-17
The last of the SPN drabbles. Except I've got one pending, waiting for info. And I added a couple of RPS drabbles over here
for azure_k_mello. 200 words. Drawing by urdsama, icon by potthead
Setting Things Straight
“Goddamn sonofabitch!”
“Well, what did you expect, Dean? You really thought he’d just back off and let you leave with his girlfriend? The guy was like three hundred pounds, all muscle.”
“Shut up. Besides that’s not what it was about.”
“No? Looked that way to me. You’d been drooling on that girl’s shoulders for an hour when he showed up.”
“The music was loud, ok? It was hard hearing what she was saying.”
“Yeah, right. So what was it about then?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you’re the one that mentioned it. Spill.”
“It was about you, ok?”
“Me? Dean, why would some stranger give a fuck about me.”
“He called you my pussy boyfriend. So I had to smack him.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Why did I have to smack him? He insulted the family name, dude. No one calls my brother a pussy except me.”
“Great, thanks. No, why did he think I was your boyfriend?”
“What do I know? He said some crap about you mooning over me like you were jealous or something. Told me to take you home and fuck you instead of trying to get my leg over his beloved. The guy was obviously on drugs.”
“Oh. Yeah. Obviously.”
for eponin10. 100 words. Icon by tinamishi
Shadowed Secrets
Sometimes Sam finds himself wondering what he missed those four years he was away at Stanford. Dean is changed, so much that there are times Sam feels like he’s looking at a complete stranger. The eyes are darker, more cautious. The slick surface that always seemed so impenetrable is showing cracks that both scare and fascinate him. He wants to see what’s underneath, wants to get to know the man that used to be just his brother.
But most of all Sam wants to know if the reason Dean keeps watching him is the same as why he watches Dean.
"Неизведанные тайны" (Russian translation by wayward_jr
Иногда Сэм задается вопросом: что он пропустил за эти четыре года в Стэнфорде? Дин изменился, очень сильно изменился. Порой Сэму кажется, что перед ним совершенно незнакомый человек. Глаза стали темнее, осторожнее. Гладкая непробиваемая броня покрыта трещинами - это одновременно пугает и завораживает. Он хочет увидеть, что же там внутри; узнать ближе того, кто раньше был просто его братом.
Но больше всего Сэм хочет понять, почему Дин смотрит на него столь же пристально, как он на Дина?
for crazyjoyfulgirl. 500 words. Icon by literati
Blowing Off Some Steam
It’s cold, the air still damp with rain and smelling of dead leaves and wet gravel. Water is soaking through his jacket, mixing with the sweat on his back where he’s pushed up against the car. A crow lands at the edge of the road and throws them a curious glance before lifting again, croaking in wonder.
His hands are slipping on the slick wet surface of the car, palms white with cold, fingers slightly aching. His legs are trembling, knees threatening to give in and let him slide to the ground. Probably would if it weren’t for Sam’s big hands splayed across his hips, holding him up. Steam is rising from underneath Sam's mop of brown hair, wispy clouds of warm breath dissolving in the cold air. Each time Sam lets Dean’s cock slide out of his mouth the wet skin gets so chilled that when Sam sucks him back inside the heat is like an inferno around him.
He reaches out to push a wing of hair away from his brother’s face. Sam’s eyes are closed, his cheeks hollowed in concentration, lips slick with spit and Dean’s pre-come. When Dean brushes his thumb over Sam’s brow he opens his eyes and looks up, pupils almost black, eyelashes damp and glittering.
“God, Sammy.”
Sam smiles, lips stretching comically around Dean’s cock as his dimples deepen. He winks wickedly, then wraps his tongue around the head one last time before lettig the cock slide all the way down his throat, eyes watering slightly as he fights not to choke.
“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. God. You’re so good. Come on, Sammy. Yeah. Fuck. Sammysammysammy…”
He’s blabbering, words spilling out as his eyes roll back and then he’s coming, fingers fisted in Sam’s hair, his groans echoing among the trees. Not even Sam has the strength to hold him up now and he allows his knees to buckle, bringing him to the cold and wet ground, marking the knees of his jeans with the same dark patches decorating Sam’s.
“God. Jesus, Sam. You…”
His eyes are still closed as Sam envelopes his face with those huge hands, warm mouth claiming his cold lips, invading them with a tongue so hot Dean thinks it will give him blisters. When Sam finally pulls back, Dean feels faint from the lack of oxygen and he opens his eyes to stare blurrily at Sam, swaying like the slight breeze is enough to knock him over. Probably is. He feels lax, boneless, and calmer than he’s been in a long time.
“Come on, your cock will freeze,” Sam laughs and Dean lets himself be tucked in and then pulled to his feet. Sam hugs him close as he opens the door and then pushes him gently inside. He’s barely able to hold his head upright long enough for the door to close and then he’s leaning against the glass, the cold surface cooling his flushed cheek, eyelids drooping.
He’s asleep before Sam even starts the engine.
for azure_k_mello. 200 words. Drawing by urdsama, icon by potthead
Setting Things Straight
“Goddamn sonofabitch!”
“Well, what did you expect, Dean? You really thought he’d just back off and let you leave with his girlfriend? The guy was like three hundred pounds, all muscle.”
“Shut up. Besides that’s not what it was about.”
“No? Looked that way to me. You’d been drooling on that girl’s shoulders for an hour when he showed up.”
“The music was loud, ok? It was hard hearing what she was saying.”
“Yeah, right. So what was it about then?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you’re the one that mentioned it. Spill.”
“It was about you, ok?”
“Me? Dean, why would some stranger give a fuck about me.”
“He called you my pussy boyfriend. So I had to smack him.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Why did I have to smack him? He insulted the family name, dude. No one calls my brother a pussy except me.”
“Great, thanks. No, why did he think I was your boyfriend?”
“What do I know? He said some crap about you mooning over me like you were jealous or something. Told me to take you home and fuck you instead of trying to get my leg over his beloved. The guy was obviously on drugs.”
“Oh. Yeah. Obviously.”
for eponin10. 100 words. Icon by tinamishi
Shadowed Secrets
Sometimes Sam finds himself wondering what he missed those four years he was away at Stanford. Dean is changed, so much that there are times Sam feels like he’s looking at a complete stranger. The eyes are darker, more cautious. The slick surface that always seemed so impenetrable is showing cracks that both scare and fascinate him. He wants to see what’s underneath, wants to get to know the man that used to be just his brother.
But most of all Sam wants to know if the reason Dean keeps watching him is the same as why he watches Dean.
"Неизведанные тайны" (Russian translation by wayward_jr
Иногда Сэм задается вопросом: что он пропустил за эти четыре года в Стэнфорде? Дин изменился, очень сильно изменился. Порой Сэму кажется, что перед ним совершенно незнакомый человек. Глаза стали темнее, осторожнее. Гладкая непробиваемая броня покрыта трещинами - это одновременно пугает и завораживает. Он хочет увидеть, что же там внутри; узнать ближе того, кто раньше был просто его братом.
Но больше всего Сэм хочет понять, почему Дин смотрит на него столь же пристально, как он на Дина?
for crazyjoyfulgirl. 500 words. Icon by literati
Blowing Off Some Steam
It’s cold, the air still damp with rain and smelling of dead leaves and wet gravel. Water is soaking through his jacket, mixing with the sweat on his back where he’s pushed up against the car. A crow lands at the edge of the road and throws them a curious glance before lifting again, croaking in wonder.
His hands are slipping on the slick wet surface of the car, palms white with cold, fingers slightly aching. His legs are trembling, knees threatening to give in and let him slide to the ground. Probably would if it weren’t for Sam’s big hands splayed across his hips, holding him up. Steam is rising from underneath Sam's mop of brown hair, wispy clouds of warm breath dissolving in the cold air. Each time Sam lets Dean’s cock slide out of his mouth the wet skin gets so chilled that when Sam sucks him back inside the heat is like an inferno around him.
He reaches out to push a wing of hair away from his brother’s face. Sam’s eyes are closed, his cheeks hollowed in concentration, lips slick with spit and Dean’s pre-come. When Dean brushes his thumb over Sam’s brow he opens his eyes and looks up, pupils almost black, eyelashes damp and glittering.
“God, Sammy.”
Sam smiles, lips stretching comically around Dean’s cock as his dimples deepen. He winks wickedly, then wraps his tongue around the head one last time before lettig the cock slide all the way down his throat, eyes watering slightly as he fights not to choke.
“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. God. You’re so good. Come on, Sammy. Yeah. Fuck. Sammysammysammy…”
He’s blabbering, words spilling out as his eyes roll back and then he’s coming, fingers fisted in Sam’s hair, his groans echoing among the trees. Not even Sam has the strength to hold him up now and he allows his knees to buckle, bringing him to the cold and wet ground, marking the knees of his jeans with the same dark patches decorating Sam’s.
“God. Jesus, Sam. You…”
His eyes are still closed as Sam envelopes his face with those huge hands, warm mouth claiming his cold lips, invading them with a tongue so hot Dean thinks it will give him blisters. When Sam finally pulls back, Dean feels faint from the lack of oxygen and he opens his eyes to stare blurrily at Sam, swaying like the slight breeze is enough to knock him over. Probably is. He feels lax, boneless, and calmer than he’s been in a long time.
“Come on, your cock will freeze,” Sam laughs and Dean lets himself be tucked in and then pulled to his feet. Sam hugs him close as he opens the door and then pushes him gently inside. He’s barely able to hold his head upright long enough for the door to close and then he’s leaning against the glass, the cold surface cooling his flushed cheek, eyelids drooping.
He’s asleep before Sam even starts the engine.