PixCT: 01.21
It's that time again...
Fic
Slash (Dean/Sam)
Adult
Preseries
~840 words
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
September 07-September 08
September 08-September 09
DruCT: 09.17
DruCT: 09.24
DruCT: 10.01
DruCT: 10.08
DruCT: 10.15
DruCT: 10.22
DruCT: 10.29
DruCT: 11.05
DruCT: 11.12
DruCT: 11.19
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 01.21
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
Preseries
~840 words
Hi guys! Yep, I'm back! :D
- - - - -
Pix's Pic Pick
He’s running, wanting to be chased, as the leaves slap-slap his cheeks and bare arms. Blind for a moment here and there when the leaves cover his eyes, and he sees only green.
Behind him, Sam calls out, “Dean, did you read the sign? Dean, we’re not allowed to come in here!”
He chuckles. He chuckles because he’s read the sign a thousand times and then some. The sign that tells them to stay out, to stay off, to stay away from this place. But, he’s never listened before. Not when he and Dad tracked a black dog through these forests. Not when he fled out here to be alone while Dad and Sam hurled their angry words. Not then. Not now.
“C’mon, Sammy!” he yells back, still running, pushing through the branches, careful not to trip when he runs too fast down the hills, careful not to skid and collide with a tree hidden in the foliage.
“Dean!”
He wants to be caught. Doesn’t want to be. Wants Sam to come up from behind and push him to the ground so they’ll tumble, head over heels, into the soft grass. Doesn’t want to hear Sam gloating about how he’s growing taller, his long legs too fast for Dean now.
Dean’s laughing now, a little crazy and a little delirious, because this feels so good, the fresh breeze against his face and the pounding of his heart in his throat. He’s been cooped up for what feels like years. A too long hunt too far away without Sam. Riding hours in the car with nowhere to stretch his legs and the air tense between him and Dad. Sitting inside the house and waiting for Dad to pass out in front of the TV, exhaustion and alcohol making him sleepy. Now, Dean feels like he’s going to burst if he doesn’t run, doesn’t laugh, but it doesn’t matter, does it? Because who’s going to hear him? Just Sam. And isn’t that all that’s ever mattered?
“Dean! We’re going to get in trouble!”
He glances behind to see a flash of red, the color of Sam’s shirt, burst through the branches, and he laughs again. But, turning around, that’s his mistake, and he trips, stumbles over an old tree root poking its way through the earth. He flies, arms flailing, and comes to land with a thud at the bottom of a hill, dirt on his knees and hands.
He can’t get back up quick enough before Sam pounces.
“Way to go, loser,” Sam says, out of breath, sitting on Dean’s back to pin him down. “You’re a real klutz, you know that?”
“Shut up,” Dean growls, but he doesn’t mean it. Not now, not when he’s feeling so damn alive. Instead, he rolls over, flips Sam so quickly, and now he’s the one on top, pressed chest to chest with Sam.
He looks down at Sam, both of them panting heavily. Sam’s cheeks are pink, and his hair is mussed. It feels like forever since they’ve looked at each other like this, eye to eye, nose to nose.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Sam asks, still trying to catch his breath.
“Had to get you out of the house.” Dean grins. He leans down to kiss Sam. He can’t help himself, especially not when Sam is lying underneath him, all breathless and inviting, his knees bent and legs spread so Dean can fit between. It’s just a kiss, should be simple, but it’s never simple when it comes to the two of them.
“And where did you see this plan leading you?” Sam asks, when Dean pulls away to look at him again.
“Down,” Dean says, and he can’t help but laugh at Sam’s puzzled expression. “Down…down…down,” he says, as he trails a finger from Sam’s pursed lips to his chest before coming to rest on the bulge of his zipper. “Huh. Seems like you're already on board with the plan.”
“Don’t tease me,” Sam says.
“You’re so needy.”
“You think you aren’t?” Sam lifts his hips, rolling them against Dean’s, denim jeans between. “Bet you couldn’t stop now if you wanted.”
“You wouldn’t want me to.”
Sam laughs. “Did you think of me while you were gone?”
“I’m not a girl. Shit, Sam.”
Sam’s still smiling, and he says, “I did. Thought of you every night. Kind of nice when Dad lets me stay home alone for the few days. Get to jerk off in lots of different places.”
“You little shit,” Dean says, but now he’s laughing too. Laughing and flushing at the thought of Sam, his pants pushed down around his ankles, sprawled on the couch, leaning against the kitchen counter, maybe even in Dad’s bed, cock fisted in his hand, mouth opened as he gasped and-
“You love it.” Sam reaches up and loops his arms behind Dean’s neck, pulling them closer together.
“Yeah, well,” Dean says, “I’m not going to argue with that one.”
“I didn’t think so,” Sam says, and he closes his eyes and kisses him again.
End
Fic
- - - - -
A combination of fic, pic, and cock, and that's really all there is to it.
All About Cock Thursday
So Far
September 07-September 08
September 08-September 09
DruCT: 09.17
DruCT: 09.24
DruCT: 10.01
DruCT: 10.08
DruCT: 10.15
DruCT: 10.22
DruCT: 10.29
DruCT: 11.05
DruCT: 11.12
DruCT: 11.19
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 01.21
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
Preseries
~840 words
Hi guys! Yep, I'm back! :D
- - - - -
Pix's Pic Pick
He’s running, wanting to be chased, as the leaves slap-slap his cheeks and bare arms. Blind for a moment here and there when the leaves cover his eyes, and he sees only green.
Behind him, Sam calls out, “Dean, did you read the sign? Dean, we’re not allowed to come in here!”
He chuckles. He chuckles because he’s read the sign a thousand times and then some. The sign that tells them to stay out, to stay off, to stay away from this place. But, he’s never listened before. Not when he and Dad tracked a black dog through these forests. Not when he fled out here to be alone while Dad and Sam hurled their angry words. Not then. Not now.
“C’mon, Sammy!” he yells back, still running, pushing through the branches, careful not to trip when he runs too fast down the hills, careful not to skid and collide with a tree hidden in the foliage.
“Dean!”
He wants to be caught. Doesn’t want to be. Wants Sam to come up from behind and push him to the ground so they’ll tumble, head over heels, into the soft grass. Doesn’t want to hear Sam gloating about how he’s growing taller, his long legs too fast for Dean now.
Dean’s laughing now, a little crazy and a little delirious, because this feels so good, the fresh breeze against his face and the pounding of his heart in his throat. He’s been cooped up for what feels like years. A too long hunt too far away without Sam. Riding hours in the car with nowhere to stretch his legs and the air tense between him and Dad. Sitting inside the house and waiting for Dad to pass out in front of the TV, exhaustion and alcohol making him sleepy. Now, Dean feels like he’s going to burst if he doesn’t run, doesn’t laugh, but it doesn’t matter, does it? Because who’s going to hear him? Just Sam. And isn’t that all that’s ever mattered?
“Dean! We’re going to get in trouble!”
He glances behind to see a flash of red, the color of Sam’s shirt, burst through the branches, and he laughs again. But, turning around, that’s his mistake, and he trips, stumbles over an old tree root poking its way through the earth. He flies, arms flailing, and comes to land with a thud at the bottom of a hill, dirt on his knees and hands.
He can’t get back up quick enough before Sam pounces.
“Way to go, loser,” Sam says, out of breath, sitting on Dean’s back to pin him down. “You’re a real klutz, you know that?”
“Shut up,” Dean growls, but he doesn’t mean it. Not now, not when he’s feeling so damn alive. Instead, he rolls over, flips Sam so quickly, and now he’s the one on top, pressed chest to chest with Sam.
He looks down at Sam, both of them panting heavily. Sam’s cheeks are pink, and his hair is mussed. It feels like forever since they’ve looked at each other like this, eye to eye, nose to nose.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Sam asks, still trying to catch his breath.
“Had to get you out of the house.” Dean grins. He leans down to kiss Sam. He can’t help himself, especially not when Sam is lying underneath him, all breathless and inviting, his knees bent and legs spread so Dean can fit between. It’s just a kiss, should be simple, but it’s never simple when it comes to the two of them.
“And where did you see this plan leading you?” Sam asks, when Dean pulls away to look at him again.
“Down,” Dean says, and he can’t help but laugh at Sam’s puzzled expression. “Down…down…down,” he says, as he trails a finger from Sam’s pursed lips to his chest before coming to rest on the bulge of his zipper. “Huh. Seems like you're already on board with the plan.”
“Don’t tease me,” Sam says.
“You’re so needy.”
“You think you aren’t?” Sam lifts his hips, rolling them against Dean’s, denim jeans between. “Bet you couldn’t stop now if you wanted.”
“You wouldn’t want me to.”
Sam laughs. “Did you think of me while you were gone?”
“I’m not a girl. Shit, Sam.”
Sam’s still smiling, and he says, “I did. Thought of you every night. Kind of nice when Dad lets me stay home alone for the few days. Get to jerk off in lots of different places.”
“You little shit,” Dean says, but now he’s laughing too. Laughing and flushing at the thought of Sam, his pants pushed down around his ankles, sprawled on the couch, leaning against the kitchen counter, maybe even in Dad’s bed, cock fisted in his hand, mouth opened as he gasped and-
“You love it.” Sam reaches up and loops his arms behind Dean’s neck, pulling them closer together.
“Yeah, well,” Dean says, “I’m not going to argue with that one.”
“I didn’t think so,” Sam says, and he closes his eyes and kisses him again.
End