PixCT: 09.30
It's that time again...
Fic
Slash (Dean/Sam)
Adult
~1540
- - - - -
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
Dru Cock Thursday
Pix Cock Thursday
Dru September CTs
Pix September CTs
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 09.30
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~1540 words
- - - - -
Dru’s Pic Pick
Thirty miles from the city, thirty miles into nowhere, the Impala sputtered, coughed, and stalled. Stalled in the middle of the darkened highway, while the car’s headlights continued shining on into nothingness, their faded pools of light disappearing into shadows. Without the rumbling of the engine, the only sounds were the whisper of waves below on the other side of the road and the hiss of the wind through the tall grasses.
Dean swore and climbed out. Flashlight in hand, he checked underneath the hood, not bothering to move the car from where it was stopped right smack in the lane. It was closing in on one in the morning, and they hadn’t passed a car since that city thirty miles ago. The chance of them encountering another person-car-was slim to none.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked, opening his door and poking his head out.
Dean closed the hood lid. “Nothing I can’t fix,” he said. He clicked off the flashlight and came around to his side of the car.
“You want to take care of it tonight?”
Dean shrugged and scratched the side of his head. “Could, but it’s gonna be a bitch in the dark with all the shadows from the flashlight. Not like we got anywhere to be. Can just camp here until the morning.”
Sam frowned. “I guess so.”
“Let’s get her pushed over to the shoulder, though. I’m not gonna leave her sitting right here all night long. You never know what kind of morons are out driving at this hour.”
Sam decided not to point out that they were the type of morons to be out driving at this hour. Instead, he climbed out and went around to the back of the car, ready to push, while Dean shifted the car and took care of the steering. The usual practice.
After Sam had pushed and Dean steered-also pushing from his side-the car was parked and on the shoulder, enough of the way that the casual driver wouldn’t hit it as they drove down the highway.
“You want front or back seat?” Dean asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm. The night air was cooler than the day’s, but still warm all the same.
“Did you see that place over there?” Sam nodded in the direction of the small building, almost lost to the shadows.
Dean clicked on the flashlight again and swept it across the area. The thin beam caught a building, illuminated it enough that they saw it for a concrete structure, something old and forgotten, but standing with four walls nevertheless.
Dean looked back to Sam, eyebrow raised. “You want to sleep an old, abandoned building?”
Sam shrugged. “We could check it out.” Sometimes, as they had learned more than once, old, abandoned buildings brought them more comfort than the car. Not that Sam wouldn’t sleep in the Impala if it came down to that, but truth be told, it wasn’t the most comfortable sleep. If they could find a bed, something to stretch out on, it would be a blessing. If not, then back to the car.
Dean seemed to pick up on Sam’s thoughts, as he nodded and said, “All right. Let’s see what it’s got.”
After locking the car, they crossed the space, Dean’s flashlight cutting through the darkness. The ground was covered in cracked cement, as if there had once been a parking lot or a play area here. Something where people had come and stood together. Now, bunches of grass pushed its way through the stone, breaking the concrete apart, running green lines through the flat gray area.
There was a padlock on the doors of the building, but the lock was rusted and broke easily enough when forced. Dean pushed the doors opened, sweeping the beam of his light across the space inside. The area was mostly empty, save for one rickety bed with a ratty mattress and a chest of drawers that fell, face-down onto the ground. Assorted pieces of wood and nails were scattered on the floor, as if someone had started a project and ran away halfway through.
“Bed looks clean enough,” Dean remarked, wiping his hand over the mattress, testing it.
Sam mimicked Dean’s gesture, checking the material for himself. Indeed, there were no stray springs to poke them, no bugs or animals to interrupt them. The fabric was dry and stained, orange splotches covering the once blue and purple flower pattern, but it would work. The bed frame itself was rusty, but Sam figured it would hold them. Old frames like this were built to outlast even the end of the world.
“You okay with staying here?” Sam asked, looking up from the bed to meet Dean’s eyes.
“Works for me if it works for you.” He grinned. “I know you can’t fit all that well in the car.”
“Worked a lot better when I was twelve.”
Dean chuckled. “Worked a lot better when you were under six feet tall, too.” He crossed the room, going back to the opened doors. He closed the doors, slid the ruined chest over, and placed it in front of the doors so that no one would be able to open the doors without effort-and a considerable amount of noise.
Sam sat down on the bed and watched as Dean came back across the room.
“You sure we’re both going to fit?” Dean asked, looking down at Sam. From the side of his pants, he pulled out his gun and placed it on the floor beside the head of the bed.
“I’m sure we can make it work.”
“Yeah, isn’t that how it always goes?” Dean said, but he was already placing one knee on the bed beside Sam’s hip and two hands on Sam’s face to pull him close. Dean leaned in and Sam leaned up, and they kissed, long and slow. No questions needed. Just this.
Dean tasted like the diner food they’d had thirty miles back. Something fried, Sam remembered that much, and it really wasn’t worth it to remember the rest. He lifted his hands, and with one, he touched Dean’s face, stubbled and warm, and he rested his other on the back of Dean’s neck, touching just where his jacket met skin.
Sam tugged and Dean pushed, and then they were on the bed together, Sam below and Dean above.
“You know,” Dean said, pulling away, “we should just get a really nice place sometime. Splurge.”
Sam laughed, too happy with Dean touching him and just them being here. “What the hell?”
Dean shrugged, hand on Sam’s chest. “Take a weekend off. Get a big ole’ king bed with those white fluffy sheets and just fuck all day in ‘em.”
“Jesus,” Sam said. “You’re such a fucking sap.”
“Well, excuse me for wanting to actually have something nice once in a while,” Dean said, but now he was laughing too, and Sam began to wonder if Dean had said the whole thing in the first place just to fuck with him.
Whatever the reason, it was said and it was done and over with, and they pulled off clothing, piece by piece, until Sam was reaching for Dean’s pants. Dean let Sam unbutton his jeans and push them down until Dean was able to shake free, losing them to the ground in the darkness.
Sam took Dean’s cock in hand, jacked him a few times, enough to get Dean growling in his ear.
“Don’t tease me, Sammy,” Dean hissed, hand squeezing into Sam’s hip, just above the line of his own jeans.
“Wasn’t planning on it. Just…” Sam sighed and shuddered when Dean’s hand moved lower, coming to rest over the bulge in Sam’s jeans, over his cock fat and thick beneath. “Just wanted to keep it going a bit longer.”
Dean chuckled lowly. “Now, who’s the sap?” Sam could only smile and reach for Dean again.
They kissed, hot and heady, and Dean managed to get Sam’s pants undone and pull them down, just below the curve of Sam’s ass. Dean settled himself between Sam’s legs, his cock pushing against Sam’s own. Rutting forward, Dean moved slowly while they kissed, Sam’s arms wrapped around him, their hips working together.
Sam came first, fingers digging into Dean’s back and back arching to push himself up against Dean. As his mind swirled, body feeling limp and heavy, Dean continued to thrust forward until he too came, open mouth pressed against Sam’s neck and moan choked back.
Dean rolled off Sam, but stayed close, pressing his front to Sam’s side. From the ground, Sam grabbed Dean’s coat and his, draping it over them to cover their skin if the night became cooler as it went on.
“So,” Dean said, chin tucked against Sam’s shoulder, “can’t do that in the Impala, can we?”
“Mmm,” Sam murmured thoughtfully. “Be a bit cramped.” They’d done it before, of course, but with the car door opened and their feet hanging out or with Sam’s legs draped into the front seat.
“Good thing we found this place then.”
“Yup,” Sam agreed, feeling the way Dean pressed close against him, skin sweat-sticky and still flushed hot. “Good thing indeed.”
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
Dru Cock Thursday
Pix Cock Thursday
Dru September CTs
Pix September CTs
- - - - -
Today
DruCT: 09.30
My fic:
Slash (Wincest: Dean/Sam) oneshot
Adult rating
~1540 words
- - - - -
Dru’s Pic Pick
Thirty miles from the city, thirty miles into nowhere, the Impala sputtered, coughed, and stalled. Stalled in the middle of the darkened highway, while the car’s headlights continued shining on into nothingness, their faded pools of light disappearing into shadows. Without the rumbling of the engine, the only sounds were the whisper of waves below on the other side of the road and the hiss of the wind through the tall grasses.
Dean swore and climbed out. Flashlight in hand, he checked underneath the hood, not bothering to move the car from where it was stopped right smack in the lane. It was closing in on one in the morning, and they hadn’t passed a car since that city thirty miles ago. The chance of them encountering another person-car-was slim to none.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked, opening his door and poking his head out.
Dean closed the hood lid. “Nothing I can’t fix,” he said. He clicked off the flashlight and came around to his side of the car.
“You want to take care of it tonight?”
Dean shrugged and scratched the side of his head. “Could, but it’s gonna be a bitch in the dark with all the shadows from the flashlight. Not like we got anywhere to be. Can just camp here until the morning.”
Sam frowned. “I guess so.”
“Let’s get her pushed over to the shoulder, though. I’m not gonna leave her sitting right here all night long. You never know what kind of morons are out driving at this hour.”
Sam decided not to point out that they were the type of morons to be out driving at this hour. Instead, he climbed out and went around to the back of the car, ready to push, while Dean shifted the car and took care of the steering. The usual practice.
After Sam had pushed and Dean steered-also pushing from his side-the car was parked and on the shoulder, enough of the way that the casual driver wouldn’t hit it as they drove down the highway.
“You want front or back seat?” Dean asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm. The night air was cooler than the day’s, but still warm all the same.
“Did you see that place over there?” Sam nodded in the direction of the small building, almost lost to the shadows.
Dean clicked on the flashlight again and swept it across the area. The thin beam caught a building, illuminated it enough that they saw it for a concrete structure, something old and forgotten, but standing with four walls nevertheless.
Dean looked back to Sam, eyebrow raised. “You want to sleep an old, abandoned building?”
Sam shrugged. “We could check it out.” Sometimes, as they had learned more than once, old, abandoned buildings brought them more comfort than the car. Not that Sam wouldn’t sleep in the Impala if it came down to that, but truth be told, it wasn’t the most comfortable sleep. If they could find a bed, something to stretch out on, it would be a blessing. If not, then back to the car.
Dean seemed to pick up on Sam’s thoughts, as he nodded and said, “All right. Let’s see what it’s got.”
After locking the car, they crossed the space, Dean’s flashlight cutting through the darkness. The ground was covered in cracked cement, as if there had once been a parking lot or a play area here. Something where people had come and stood together. Now, bunches of grass pushed its way through the stone, breaking the concrete apart, running green lines through the flat gray area.
There was a padlock on the doors of the building, but the lock was rusted and broke easily enough when forced. Dean pushed the doors opened, sweeping the beam of his light across the space inside. The area was mostly empty, save for one rickety bed with a ratty mattress and a chest of drawers that fell, face-down onto the ground. Assorted pieces of wood and nails were scattered on the floor, as if someone had started a project and ran away halfway through.
“Bed looks clean enough,” Dean remarked, wiping his hand over the mattress, testing it.
Sam mimicked Dean’s gesture, checking the material for himself. Indeed, there were no stray springs to poke them, no bugs or animals to interrupt them. The fabric was dry and stained, orange splotches covering the once blue and purple flower pattern, but it would work. The bed frame itself was rusty, but Sam figured it would hold them. Old frames like this were built to outlast even the end of the world.
“You okay with staying here?” Sam asked, looking up from the bed to meet Dean’s eyes.
“Works for me if it works for you.” He grinned. “I know you can’t fit all that well in the car.”
“Worked a lot better when I was twelve.”
Dean chuckled. “Worked a lot better when you were under six feet tall, too.” He crossed the room, going back to the opened doors. He closed the doors, slid the ruined chest over, and placed it in front of the doors so that no one would be able to open the doors without effort-and a considerable amount of noise.
Sam sat down on the bed and watched as Dean came back across the room.
“You sure we’re both going to fit?” Dean asked, looking down at Sam. From the side of his pants, he pulled out his gun and placed it on the floor beside the head of the bed.
“I’m sure we can make it work.”
“Yeah, isn’t that how it always goes?” Dean said, but he was already placing one knee on the bed beside Sam’s hip and two hands on Sam’s face to pull him close. Dean leaned in and Sam leaned up, and they kissed, long and slow. No questions needed. Just this.
Dean tasted like the diner food they’d had thirty miles back. Something fried, Sam remembered that much, and it really wasn’t worth it to remember the rest. He lifted his hands, and with one, he touched Dean’s face, stubbled and warm, and he rested his other on the back of Dean’s neck, touching just where his jacket met skin.
Sam tugged and Dean pushed, and then they were on the bed together, Sam below and Dean above.
“You know,” Dean said, pulling away, “we should just get a really nice place sometime. Splurge.”
Sam laughed, too happy with Dean touching him and just them being here. “What the hell?”
Dean shrugged, hand on Sam’s chest. “Take a weekend off. Get a big ole’ king bed with those white fluffy sheets and just fuck all day in ‘em.”
“Jesus,” Sam said. “You’re such a fucking sap.”
“Well, excuse me for wanting to actually have something nice once in a while,” Dean said, but now he was laughing too, and Sam began to wonder if Dean had said the whole thing in the first place just to fuck with him.
Whatever the reason, it was said and it was done and over with, and they pulled off clothing, piece by piece, until Sam was reaching for Dean’s pants. Dean let Sam unbutton his jeans and push them down until Dean was able to shake free, losing them to the ground in the darkness.
Sam took Dean’s cock in hand, jacked him a few times, enough to get Dean growling in his ear.
“Don’t tease me, Sammy,” Dean hissed, hand squeezing into Sam’s hip, just above the line of his own jeans.
“Wasn’t planning on it. Just…” Sam sighed and shuddered when Dean’s hand moved lower, coming to rest over the bulge in Sam’s jeans, over his cock fat and thick beneath. “Just wanted to keep it going a bit longer.”
Dean chuckled lowly. “Now, who’s the sap?” Sam could only smile and reach for Dean again.
They kissed, hot and heady, and Dean managed to get Sam’s pants undone and pull them down, just below the curve of Sam’s ass. Dean settled himself between Sam’s legs, his cock pushing against Sam’s own. Rutting forward, Dean moved slowly while they kissed, Sam’s arms wrapped around him, their hips working together.
Sam came first, fingers digging into Dean’s back and back arching to push himself up against Dean. As his mind swirled, body feeling limp and heavy, Dean continued to thrust forward until he too came, open mouth pressed against Sam’s neck and moan choked back.
Dean rolled off Sam, but stayed close, pressing his front to Sam’s side. From the ground, Sam grabbed Dean’s coat and his, draping it over them to cover their skin if the night became cooler as it went on.
“So,” Dean said, chin tucked against Sam’s shoulder, “can’t do that in the Impala, can we?”
“Mmm,” Sam murmured thoughtfully. “Be a bit cramped.” They’d done it before, of course, but with the car door opened and their feet hanging out or with Sam’s legs draped into the front seat.
“Good thing we found this place then.”
“Yup,” Sam agreed, feeling the way Dean pressed close against him, skin sweat-sticky and still flushed hot. “Good thing indeed.”
End