Fic: The halflight of pre-dawn
Okay so first I am behind on thank-yous. Thank you to kashmir1, dodificus and wordplay__ for the cards! And thank you to wordplay__ & hd_obsession for the V-Gifts!
**
Thank you to loony_moony for looking this over!!
Title: The halflight of pre-dawn
Rating: R
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Wordcount: 1,191
Dedication: I wrote this for rejeneration because I love her.
Summary: Tell me a story, Sam.
The halflight of pre-dawn.
"Once upon a time, there was a boy," it begins, like all the stories he tells begin. "Once upon a time, there was a boy, and he was very, very pretty. His teeth were sharp and white, and the lines of his face cut a swathe of handsome beauty into his jaw and his stubble was rough like the Earth."
Are you telling me to shave? I think you're telling me to shave.
Don't interrupt.
"And this boy was strong enough to push down mountains, and level forests of shadow-creatures, driving them out into the light to burn away their darkness in the sun. This was a world of night and darkness, and the boy carried a torch to illuminate the corners and crevices where the creatures did dwell, cowering in fear from the light and from the, uh, the..."
Dean snaps his fingers. "Ha! You said 'uh', you lose," he says to Sam. "My turn."
Sam protests. "I wasn't finished."
"Those are the rules, you say 'uh' or otherwise lose your train of thought and stumble or mutter and I get to take over. Once upon a time-"
"But I think you want to hear how my story ends, though, Dean!" Sam says quickly.
Dean sighs, drawing closer to him, rubbing a stubbly cheek against Sam's naked chest. "Fine, but you still lost. So it doesn’t count."
Sam clears his throat and rubs his thumb against Dean's shoulder, at the reddish handprint still seared into the flesh. "And the creatures cowered from the light, and from their terrible master, who was simply called 'No-One'."
"Is that like the Nothing?"
"No, my story is about No-One, it's completely different so let me finish."
"Whatever, Bastian."
"The boy was meant to fight No-One and free the creatures from it's terrible rule. He was the son of Earth, destined to bring the light to the forests and bring about the rise of the new age of light."
"I thought the creatures feared the light?"
"Only because No-One told them to fear it. No-One terrorized his people, fed them lies and deceit and would send them to attack the good people of the Earth-"
"And No-One forged a magical ring and gave it to a hobbit and one of the rings had the power of Heart and then No-One made a sword that only the boy could pull out of a stone and had a weak spot on his ankle-"
"Are you taking this seriously?"
"Nope."
"Fine. And then the boy failed miserably because he didn’t know how to shut his mouth and so No-One heard him coming and gutted him with knives right away; and so No-One and the shadows lived forever in darkness and misery and fear all the rest of their century-long lives."
"I like the Nothing better. You get a flying dog-dragon in that one at least."
"Once upon a time, there was a jerk who could not keep his mouth shut-"
"Once upon a time, my brother was being a bitch who was too dumb to realize that he could be having the best sex of his life-alas he was too preoccupied with some dumb storytelling contest."
"-and so his brother shut it for him. With his cock. The end."
And they lived happily ever after.
Epilogue:
And the boy with the stubble on his face that was rough like the earth licked the winter-dry lips of the storyteller and swirled his glib tongue in deep in that mouth, while the storyteller rubbed thick thumbs against his cheeks.
The sheets were like waves of white cotton between them, the thin layer separating them from laying atop one another, skin touching skin. The son of the Earth with his eyes flashing in the soft light of pre-dawn climbed atop the mountain of a man to conquer his mouth, and then fist his hair tight to claim the prize of his moan and his head tilting upwards, sharp white teeth scraping against the marble of skin and neck-
"Are you waxing poetic again or are you fucking me?"
And the storyteller moves his hands down to grip the curves of his hipbones tight and shift him closer, white sheet still separating them like the flimsy premise of virginity in the bridal bed. All it needed was to be thrown asunder and the flesh laid upon flesh, the fingers lacing and the pulse and rhythm of the hearts of the lovers pounding and pumping blood into capillaries-
"Fuck me, shut the hell up and fuck me," Dean moans, greedy tongue lapping at the sweat of Sam's temple.
"I wasn't saying anything," Sam says, voice raspy with lust.
"You were thinking in prose, I know what goes on when your eyes lose focus like that. You were romanticizing this whole thing with rose petals and lace and candles that smell like puke and strawberries. Just fuck me right now, give me your cock and make me feel it inside-ah!" Dean bucks against Sam at the sensation running through him, surging, pounding, water eroding rock bit by bit, mineral falling to the sand.
"Sam, nnnngh, stop... Fucking-" Dean bows his head to Sam's chest as if in prayer to his body. "Just stop thinking, fuck me..."
Sam nips at Dean's earlobe and rocks his hips upward. "I love you."
**
The shadows burn away in the sun, until all that's left behind are ashes and flecks of embers on his face, pure skin restored and renewed. The wind lifts them away and they flit across the sand in the early light of dusk.
The boy touches his brother's cheek, and feels the water break from his eyes and run down his fingers.
I love you.
**
Thank you to loony_moony for looking this over!!
Title: The halflight of pre-dawn
Rating: R
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Wordcount: 1,191
Dedication: I wrote this for rejeneration because I love her.
Summary: Tell me a story, Sam.
The halflight of pre-dawn.
"Once upon a time, there was a boy," it begins, like all the stories he tells begin. "Once upon a time, there was a boy, and he was very, very pretty. His teeth were sharp and white, and the lines of his face cut a swathe of handsome beauty into his jaw and his stubble was rough like the Earth."
Are you telling me to shave? I think you're telling me to shave.
Don't interrupt.
"And this boy was strong enough to push down mountains, and level forests of shadow-creatures, driving them out into the light to burn away their darkness in the sun. This was a world of night and darkness, and the boy carried a torch to illuminate the corners and crevices where the creatures did dwell, cowering in fear from the light and from the, uh, the..."
Dean snaps his fingers. "Ha! You said 'uh', you lose," he says to Sam. "My turn."
Sam protests. "I wasn't finished."
"Those are the rules, you say 'uh' or otherwise lose your train of thought and stumble or mutter and I get to take over. Once upon a time-"
"But I think you want to hear how my story ends, though, Dean!" Sam says quickly.
Dean sighs, drawing closer to him, rubbing a stubbly cheek against Sam's naked chest. "Fine, but you still lost. So it doesn’t count."
Sam clears his throat and rubs his thumb against Dean's shoulder, at the reddish handprint still seared into the flesh. "And the creatures cowered from the light, and from their terrible master, who was simply called 'No-One'."
"Is that like the Nothing?"
"No, my story is about No-One, it's completely different so let me finish."
"Whatever, Bastian."
"The boy was meant to fight No-One and free the creatures from it's terrible rule. He was the son of Earth, destined to bring the light to the forests and bring about the rise of the new age of light."
"I thought the creatures feared the light?"
"Only because No-One told them to fear it. No-One terrorized his people, fed them lies and deceit and would send them to attack the good people of the Earth-"
"And No-One forged a magical ring and gave it to a hobbit and one of the rings had the power of Heart and then No-One made a sword that only the boy could pull out of a stone and had a weak spot on his ankle-"
"Are you taking this seriously?"
"Nope."
"Fine. And then the boy failed miserably because he didn’t know how to shut his mouth and so No-One heard him coming and gutted him with knives right away; and so No-One and the shadows lived forever in darkness and misery and fear all the rest of their century-long lives."
"I like the Nothing better. You get a flying dog-dragon in that one at least."
"Once upon a time, there was a jerk who could not keep his mouth shut-"
"Once upon a time, my brother was being a bitch who was too dumb to realize that he could be having the best sex of his life-alas he was too preoccupied with some dumb storytelling contest."
"-and so his brother shut it for him. With his cock. The end."
And they lived happily ever after.
Epilogue:
And the boy with the stubble on his face that was rough like the earth licked the winter-dry lips of the storyteller and swirled his glib tongue in deep in that mouth, while the storyteller rubbed thick thumbs against his cheeks.
The sheets were like waves of white cotton between them, the thin layer separating them from laying atop one another, skin touching skin. The son of the Earth with his eyes flashing in the soft light of pre-dawn climbed atop the mountain of a man to conquer his mouth, and then fist his hair tight to claim the prize of his moan and his head tilting upwards, sharp white teeth scraping against the marble of skin and neck-
"Are you waxing poetic again or are you fucking me?"
And the storyteller moves his hands down to grip the curves of his hipbones tight and shift him closer, white sheet still separating them like the flimsy premise of virginity in the bridal bed. All it needed was to be thrown asunder and the flesh laid upon flesh, the fingers lacing and the pulse and rhythm of the hearts of the lovers pounding and pumping blood into capillaries-
"Fuck me, shut the hell up and fuck me," Dean moans, greedy tongue lapping at the sweat of Sam's temple.
"I wasn't saying anything," Sam says, voice raspy with lust.
"You were thinking in prose, I know what goes on when your eyes lose focus like that. You were romanticizing this whole thing with rose petals and lace and candles that smell like puke and strawberries. Just fuck me right now, give me your cock and make me feel it inside-ah!" Dean bucks against Sam at the sensation running through him, surging, pounding, water eroding rock bit by bit, mineral falling to the sand.
"Sam, nnnngh, stop... Fucking-" Dean bows his head to Sam's chest as if in prayer to his body. "Just stop thinking, fuck me..."
Sam nips at Dean's earlobe and rocks his hips upward. "I love you."
**
The shadows burn away in the sun, until all that's left behind are ashes and flecks of embers on his face, pure skin restored and renewed. The wind lifts them away and they flit across the sand in the early light of dusk.
The boy touches his brother's cheek, and feels the water break from his eyes and run down his fingers.
I love you.