[SPN]: Stop it, Now.
R.
755 Words
Dean centric with OMC, Dean/Sam (implied)
Warnings: Slash themes, serial killer tendencies.
Notes: For spn_30snapshots, prompt blood. A kind of prequel to What You Do Best.
Summary: See, Dean likes girls and guns- so taking a knife to a guy is a little out of his element. But, he'll do it anyway, 'cause he's gotta teach Sam a lesson after all.
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Stop it, Now.
This one is for Sam.
Sam was always better with the knives, the way he twists his wrist and turns the blade, carving patterns into skin and making it look beautiful. Knives have always been Sam’s thing, ever since he turned twelve and nicked Dean’s pocketknife and scratched stop it, now into the mirror in the bathroom so when Dean got home after making out with some stupid teenage whore and went to clean up, it’d be the first thing he’d see.
Sam hadn’t needed to do it again, not until after he came back home after Stanford and found that Dean had been keeping company with women again and needed a reminder. Dean hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed that night what with the mattress in shreds.
Of course, after Sam found out exactly what Dean was doing with those women, he wasn’t so angry. Just disappointed that Dean hadn’t included him. And so he made sure Sam was there the next time it happened. Cause see, Sam’s an artist with a knife, but Dean?
Dean works magic with guns. You wouldn’t think there’s too much to do with them, but Dean’s found every which way to entertain the hours away. His personal favourite is to carefully slice a line into the skin just under the left breast, over the heart and press the barrel into the flesh. He loves the hitching sounds that they make and the tugging motion the chest muscles play out on the gun when they heave in breaths, like they’re trying to drag it inside them. That’s when he’ll pull the trigger and the watch the splatter patterns dance into secret messages that are all so overwhelming to decipher.
And more good’s come from it too. Dean’s found a new affinity in Sam watching. He now knows what Sam likes to see Dean do, and it makes his skin thrum when he feels his brother’s gaze searing lines into him with every press of the gun into yielding flesh. Girls are so soft, and it’s like every muscle bends to accommodate the weapon. Sam’s favourite is the teasing beforehand, when Dean smooths the barrel over stomachs and necks and thighs before sliding it up the inside, higher, and then into them- safety clicking off and cold metal sliding along hot muscle. No matter how badly they’re shivering, they’re always hot inside.
So yeah, Dean likes girls. A lot. But Sam… Sam likes the boys. That’s why this one is for Sam, why Dean has this kid stretched out all pretty-like, instead of his usual girls. He’d picked him up in the parking lot of the bar, nineteen and nervous and scuffing his shoes in the dirt trying to work out the courage to appear twenty one. Dean had been looking for Sam, Sam who thought he could do anything he wanted and just fuck around with Dean when really, he has no right to. Instead, Dean found the kid, just stoned enough that the offer to head back to the motel was an okay sounding idea.
So Dean’s currently a little out of his element. There’s a boy, and a knife, and- well he knows how to use a knife and even if he didn’t, he’s spent a good deal of his time watching Sam and what Sam likes, so it’s not as if he’s going to fuck things up or anything. He’s just a little out of his comfort zone. But that’s the whole point. Because he’s going to prove to Sam that going out without telling Dean where, and doing god knows what the fuck, and then coming back smelling like cheap perfume and cigarettes and expecting Dean to just smile and spread his legs or whatever is just so fucking unacceptable. So he’s going to take Sam’s little modicum of joy and have a fantastic time without him. Maybe even write stop it, now in the kid’s flesh. Sam’ll get the message then.
And when all’s done and well and Sam’s realised how stupid and hypocritical he’s been these past few months, they’ll drop the kid off alongside the highway- whether he’s alive or not is debatable at this point- and Dean will turn and take the knife to Sam’s skin; carve his name in it a thousand times over. Lick the blood away carefully and start again. Take him higher and higher and further than he’s ever been before. Show Sam exactly who he belongs to.
Dean grins. He can’t fucking wait.