I Am Imagining A Dark Lit Place
Title: I Am Imagining A Dark Lit Place
Author: xephwrites
Pairings: Dean/Sam
Rating: pg-13. Why oh why couldn't I make this dirty and nastier???
Word Count:2,248 (as MS Word told me)
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of its characters. Just playing with toys that are not mine. I promise to return them (mostly) undamaged!
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Dean is forced to confront feelings he buried long ago (I suck at summaries!)
Prompt: spnpromptcake cycle 1 round 3: prompt #13 Sam/Dean
Song Lyric: I want to make you move/Because you’re standing still/If your body matches/What your eyes can do/You’ll probably move right through/Me on my way to you (paralyzer, Finger Eleven)
Object:black leather pants
Warnings:Sam in black leather pants (more of an enticement than warning :D), incest
Notes: This is dedicated to switch_heart who I'm trying very very hard to drag over to the Dark Side. I'm hoping that this fic will do it. Miss you! The club used is based on one that I frequented many moons ago, back when I had disposable income and no baby to look after. And I've been dying to use that place in a fic, and that AWESOME prompt finally gave me an excuse to do so! More A/N at the end.
~~~~~
As much as Dean loved to hunt, he also enjoyed the downtime. Under normal circumstances, that is. By sheer dumb fucking luck, the small city that they chose to kick back and relax in happened to be the home of one of Sam’s Stanford friends. It wouldn’t be an issue if they didn’t run into him at the hardware store.
It’s no secret that Dean hates any and all references to his brother’s time away from the family, away from him. Sure, he was proud that his brother got a full ride, and that Sam was brilliant. But he turned his back on the family, the only thing Dean has. That coupled with Jess’ death made the topic avoided at all cost.
So running into this Darryl person was a punch in the face and a kick in the nuts at the same time. But Sam seemed happy to see him. Condolences were given about Jess, introductions for Dean, and awkward dancing around “What have you been up to lately?” questions. Because “I just killed a nest of vampires with my brother” Is laughed at until they realize you’re serious.
Darryl and Sam became wrapped in their own conversation in the aisle that contained the rope, so Dean moved on. He could hear their laughter filtering over into the gardening area, where Dean was looking for new shovels. He kept telling himself that he was not jealous. Sam was his brother, he could have friends, and he was not jealous.
Three laps around the store, and a good replenishment on rock salt and other seemingly innocent items that make killing creatures fun, they were still laughing and talking. Nope, not jealous. He made his way back to the aisle they were in.
“Sammy, I’m gonna head out. Got what I needed.” Dean pointed to the cart. “Why don’t you and Darryl do something tonight, catch up.” As in away from Dean, who was not jealous. Sam’s smile faltered a bit as he eyed Dean carefully.
“You sure man?” He asked. Dean nodded.
“Do whatever it is you two do. I’m good.” Dean patted Darryl a little too harshly on the shoulder. “Have fun, text me if you need to be picked up.”
And that’s how Dean ended up back at the crummy motel room alone, eating greasy fried chicken that Sam would never agree to have.
Around nine, Dean’s cell phone chirped that he had a text. It simply said “Come to The Cavern, 34 Arthur St. You’ll appreciate the scenery if anything.” Translation: Come to the bar, there’s hot chicks, you know you want to party. Okay, so maybe a few drinks, maybe hustle a bit of pool, see if any girls are interested. Dean texted back “Fine, Bitch” and the reply was “cya soon, jerk!”
Driving along, Dean had assumed that The Cavern was a pub, concert venue perhaps. Maybe that’s because it shared the name as the one that The Beatles were known for playing in. He was hoping that the place was at least entertaining. He was pretty sure that his brother probably preferred the quiet pub type place.
He found Arthur Street easily, but driving up and down the short street, he saw no signs of this bar. Slowing by a parking lot, he noticed a few people milling about. He rolled down the window and he heard the muted sound of bass trying to pump its way through concrete. This must be the place.
He pulled carefully into the parking lot and got out of the car. There was only one light that shone over the lot, and it wasn’t that bright. At the end of the lot was a large, run down building. A door was open and a faint light was leaking outwards. As Dean got closer, he noticed a figure standing beside the open door. And the figure was huge.
The doorman had to be taller than Sam, and had muscle on muscle. The guy’s arms and chest were so huge he couldn’t cross his arms properly. He eyed Dean as he came closer. Dean would not let this guy intimidate him. He gave his friendliest smile as he stepped up. The doorman looked him over, tipped his head towards the door. Dean nodded and walked in.
There was a staircase leading down. A single bulb illuminated the way. Dean crinkled his nose as the smell of cigarette smoke, stale beer, old sweat and moldy carpet hit him. The thumping of the bass was harsher here. Before he reached the bottom, the door swung open and two girls came rushing through. They both had on short skirts, tiny tank tops and huge leather boots. Dean flashed his best smile. “Ladies.” He nodded his head as they walked by, giggling, looking back at him.
As Dean opened the door, he was hit by a wall of music. The bass was throbbing and harsh and a higher sound was making the simple melody. He gave a look around the spacious but poorly laid out bar. He saw pool tables at the far end, a large dance floor already packed, and a small bar. No Sam, no Darryl.
Dean made his way through the crowd, trying to figure out what the hell kind of place this is. Given the music, he figured the place would be all goth types. Yes, there were a lot of people in black, and a lot of girls in corsets and fishnets. Dean was indeed thankful for that. But there were some people dressed in hip hop style, and others dressed like Dean, jeans and t-shirts.
At the bar, the girl behind noticed him right away. Dean could not get his simple order out, as he was too enraptured with her electrical tape shirt. She waved her hand in front of his face to snap him out of his trance. He laughed, mostly at himself and ordered a beer. He gave another survey of the crowd, and finally spotted Sam and Darryl at one of the pool tables. He nearly choked on his beer.
Sam was wearing a pair of black leather pants. Sam was wearing low riding, ass hugging, leg muscle showcasing black. Leather. Pants. Old feelings that Dean had sworn that he put to rest hit the surface again. He was not going to perv over his little brother in front of one of his college buddies. Instead he kept his distance, watching them play pool.
Dean was mesmerized watching Sam move around the table. Dean has seen Sam play pool more times than he can count. Hell, Dean was the one who taught him to play in the first place. But Sam was more relaxed right now, probably because neither of them were hustling. Dean’s mouth went dry as Sam leaned forward over the table, leather clad ass pointed right at Dean. He couldn’t help but stare at the well rounded globes of flesh trapped in those sinful pants. There was nothing more he wanted than to push Sam over the edge of the pool table and rub up against him. Well, fuck him as well, but Dean had this incredible urge to grind his bare cock against the leather.
So not only was he thinking incestuous thoughts (again), he’s now developed a leather fetish. Great. Could his life get any stranger? He ordered another beer and asked for a shot. The bartender asked him what kind and he shrugged. A devious smile spread across her face as she turned to the shelf of bottles. He had his new beer and an interesting looking shot. He downed it without sniff testing. Sweet, licorice-like taste mixed with cinnamon and peppermint in his mouth. Really, it left an awful aftertaste. He grimaced and took a long drink from his beer. The bartender smiled at him and shrugged. Dean should have known better than to order blindly.
He let his eyes wander back over to the pool table once again. Both Sam and Daryl were leaning up against the side talking. Sam leaned back and rested his hands on the green felt. His shirt hitched up slightly and Dean could see the taut muscles of his stomach, and the tiny splattering of hair at the top of the waistband. Yes, they were that low, Dean, and everyone else in the bar, got a sneak preview of Sam’s pubes. In some bizarre way, Dean was thankful for the Liquid Cocaine shot now buzzing though his system.
Finally, FINALLY, their glances found Dean. They waved him over, but Dean stayed still against the bar. He shook his head and made a shooing motion with his hand. He didn’t want to interrupt their night together, and he didn’t trust himself to be anywhere near Sam right now. So maybe the shot was a bad idea. They shrugged, and continued to talk.
Dean tried to watch the parade of people around him. Several girls tossed interested glances his way, and so did a few of the guys. But Dean could only keep his attention on Sam. Sam, who was making an effort to ignore him at this point, hit the dance floor. Dean’s already half interested cock gave a twitch as his brother began to move to the music.
The song itself wasn’t horrible. Sort of that dance techno crap, but harder, edgier. It’s obvious that Sam knew the song, as he began mouthing the words with the female voice.
I am a bitch, how do you want me?
From behind, or on my knees?
I am a slut, please hold me down
I’ll make loud noise
This shit will fuck you up
The verse repeated itself, and Sam was staring right at Dean as he repeated the words. What was he supposed to take from that? Was his brother just singing and happen to look his way? Was Sam hitting on him? Confused, horny and getting closer to being a little drunk and careless, Dean bolted to the bathroom.
He stared at himself in the badly cracked mirror. He ran some cold water in the sink and splashed himself in the face. He should not be thinking incestuous gay thoughts about Sam. That was bad, wrong, dirty, and fucking hot. Dean groaned at himself, and rested his head against the mirror. There was no way out of this, around it, or anything. He was a pervert, and he was going straight to hell. He jumped when the door to the bathroom flew open. In the mirror, he caught Sam’s stare.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam growled over the music. The rumble of his voice went straight to Dean’s cock.
“Sammy, just leave me alone.” He said, resting his arms on the porcelain and hanging his head. “Go have fun with your college buddy.” Dean heard the slight snick of the lock being thrown on the door.
“I saw how you’ve been staring at me all night.” Sam’s voice was a fraction lower than normal, and it was doing lots of lovely, nasty wrong things to Dean. “Why the fuck didn’t you do anything?”
“Cause he’s your college buddy, I’m your brother.” Dean said, standing up. Sam laughed at him, actually laughed.
“Did you pay attention to how I introduced you in the hardware store?” Sam asked. Dean stopped and thought back to the early afternoon. Sam sighed. “I introduced you as Dean, not as my brother, just as Dean.” Dean shook his head.
“It’s wrong, Sammy.” He choked out. “The things I wanna do with you, it’s not right.”
“So driving me nuts all night with staring at me, not even moving, even when Daryl was being nice and inviting you over, that’s better?” Sam puffed out. Sam flicked out the lights. “This make it easier?” He said. Dean turned around, walking towards his brother’s voice.
“Yeah.” He said. His hand reached out and he felt the hard muscle of his brother’s abdomen. He slid his hand around Sam’s waist and brought them flush together. Once pressed chest to chest, Dean let his hand slide down Sam’s back to his leather clad ass. The leather was soft over the hard muscle. Dean groaned. Sam leaned forward in the dark, searching for Dean’s lips. Finding them, he thrust his tongue in, making Dean gasp and squeeze harder.
Their moment was broken by someone tugging and banging on the door. Sam reluctantly pulled away, but held Dean’s hand. He found the light switch and turned it back on. He tossed a glance back at Dean, who looked nervous. Sam smiled.
“Stop worrying.” He whispered and unlocked the door. They were hit with a blast of music. Sam smiled. “I love this song! Wanna dance?” Dean shook his head.
“You go, I’ll watch.” Dean said as they made their way through the crowd that had gathered in front of the men’s room. There were a few hoots and cheers from the crowd as they walked past. Dean hung his head in embarrassment.
Sam released his hand at the edge of the dance floor. Dean stood still and watched his large brother move gracefully in the crowd. Sam found a spot to himself and began to move and sing.
Well I’m not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you’re standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You’ll probably move right through
Me on my way to you
~~~~~~
A/N #2: The song that Sam sings along to is "This Sh*t Will Fcuk You Up" by Combichrist. The song that I heard in my mind as Dean is walking into the club is "Hellraiser (Psychopath 01)" by Suicide Commando.
Comments are adored!
free web hit counters
Author: xephwrites
Pairings: Dean/Sam
Rating: pg-13. Why oh why couldn't I make this dirty and nastier???
Word Count:2,248 (as MS Word told me)
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of its characters. Just playing with toys that are not mine. I promise to return them (mostly) undamaged!
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Dean is forced to confront feelings he buried long ago (I suck at summaries!)
Prompt: spnpromptcake cycle 1 round 3: prompt #13 Sam/Dean
Song Lyric: I want to make you move/Because you’re standing still/If your body matches/What your eyes can do/You’ll probably move right through/Me on my way to you (paralyzer, Finger Eleven)
Object:black leather pants
Warnings:Sam in black leather pants (more of an enticement than warning :D), incest
Notes: This is dedicated to switch_heart who I'm trying very very hard to drag over to the Dark Side. I'm hoping that this fic will do it. Miss you! The club used is based on one that I frequented many moons ago, back when I had disposable income and no baby to look after. And I've been dying to use that place in a fic, and that AWESOME prompt finally gave me an excuse to do so! More A/N at the end.
~~~~~
As much as Dean loved to hunt, he also enjoyed the downtime. Under normal circumstances, that is. By sheer dumb fucking luck, the small city that they chose to kick back and relax in happened to be the home of one of Sam’s Stanford friends. It wouldn’t be an issue if they didn’t run into him at the hardware store.
It’s no secret that Dean hates any and all references to his brother’s time away from the family, away from him. Sure, he was proud that his brother got a full ride, and that Sam was brilliant. But he turned his back on the family, the only thing Dean has. That coupled with Jess’ death made the topic avoided at all cost.
So running into this Darryl person was a punch in the face and a kick in the nuts at the same time. But Sam seemed happy to see him. Condolences were given about Jess, introductions for Dean, and awkward dancing around “What have you been up to lately?” questions. Because “I just killed a nest of vampires with my brother” Is laughed at until they realize you’re serious.
Darryl and Sam became wrapped in their own conversation in the aisle that contained the rope, so Dean moved on. He could hear their laughter filtering over into the gardening area, where Dean was looking for new shovels. He kept telling himself that he was not jealous. Sam was his brother, he could have friends, and he was not jealous.
Three laps around the store, and a good replenishment on rock salt and other seemingly innocent items that make killing creatures fun, they were still laughing and talking. Nope, not jealous. He made his way back to the aisle they were in.
“Sammy, I’m gonna head out. Got what I needed.” Dean pointed to the cart. “Why don’t you and Darryl do something tonight, catch up.” As in away from Dean, who was not jealous. Sam’s smile faltered a bit as he eyed Dean carefully.
“You sure man?” He asked. Dean nodded.
“Do whatever it is you two do. I’m good.” Dean patted Darryl a little too harshly on the shoulder. “Have fun, text me if you need to be picked up.”
And that’s how Dean ended up back at the crummy motel room alone, eating greasy fried chicken that Sam would never agree to have.
Around nine, Dean’s cell phone chirped that he had a text. It simply said “Come to The Cavern, 34 Arthur St. You’ll appreciate the scenery if anything.” Translation: Come to the bar, there’s hot chicks, you know you want to party. Okay, so maybe a few drinks, maybe hustle a bit of pool, see if any girls are interested. Dean texted back “Fine, Bitch” and the reply was “cya soon, jerk!”
Driving along, Dean had assumed that The Cavern was a pub, concert venue perhaps. Maybe that’s because it shared the name as the one that The Beatles were known for playing in. He was hoping that the place was at least entertaining. He was pretty sure that his brother probably preferred the quiet pub type place.
He found Arthur Street easily, but driving up and down the short street, he saw no signs of this bar. Slowing by a parking lot, he noticed a few people milling about. He rolled down the window and he heard the muted sound of bass trying to pump its way through concrete. This must be the place.
He pulled carefully into the parking lot and got out of the car. There was only one light that shone over the lot, and it wasn’t that bright. At the end of the lot was a large, run down building. A door was open and a faint light was leaking outwards. As Dean got closer, he noticed a figure standing beside the open door. And the figure was huge.
The doorman had to be taller than Sam, and had muscle on muscle. The guy’s arms and chest were so huge he couldn’t cross his arms properly. He eyed Dean as he came closer. Dean would not let this guy intimidate him. He gave his friendliest smile as he stepped up. The doorman looked him over, tipped his head towards the door. Dean nodded and walked in.
There was a staircase leading down. A single bulb illuminated the way. Dean crinkled his nose as the smell of cigarette smoke, stale beer, old sweat and moldy carpet hit him. The thumping of the bass was harsher here. Before he reached the bottom, the door swung open and two girls came rushing through. They both had on short skirts, tiny tank tops and huge leather boots. Dean flashed his best smile. “Ladies.” He nodded his head as they walked by, giggling, looking back at him.
As Dean opened the door, he was hit by a wall of music. The bass was throbbing and harsh and a higher sound was making the simple melody. He gave a look around the spacious but poorly laid out bar. He saw pool tables at the far end, a large dance floor already packed, and a small bar. No Sam, no Darryl.
Dean made his way through the crowd, trying to figure out what the hell kind of place this is. Given the music, he figured the place would be all goth types. Yes, there were a lot of people in black, and a lot of girls in corsets and fishnets. Dean was indeed thankful for that. But there were some people dressed in hip hop style, and others dressed like Dean, jeans and t-shirts.
At the bar, the girl behind noticed him right away. Dean could not get his simple order out, as he was too enraptured with her electrical tape shirt. She waved her hand in front of his face to snap him out of his trance. He laughed, mostly at himself and ordered a beer. He gave another survey of the crowd, and finally spotted Sam and Darryl at one of the pool tables. He nearly choked on his beer.
Sam was wearing a pair of black leather pants. Sam was wearing low riding, ass hugging, leg muscle showcasing black. Leather. Pants. Old feelings that Dean had sworn that he put to rest hit the surface again. He was not going to perv over his little brother in front of one of his college buddies. Instead he kept his distance, watching them play pool.
Dean was mesmerized watching Sam move around the table. Dean has seen Sam play pool more times than he can count. Hell, Dean was the one who taught him to play in the first place. But Sam was more relaxed right now, probably because neither of them were hustling. Dean’s mouth went dry as Sam leaned forward over the table, leather clad ass pointed right at Dean. He couldn’t help but stare at the well rounded globes of flesh trapped in those sinful pants. There was nothing more he wanted than to push Sam over the edge of the pool table and rub up against him. Well, fuck him as well, but Dean had this incredible urge to grind his bare cock against the leather.
So not only was he thinking incestuous thoughts (again), he’s now developed a leather fetish. Great. Could his life get any stranger? He ordered another beer and asked for a shot. The bartender asked him what kind and he shrugged. A devious smile spread across her face as she turned to the shelf of bottles. He had his new beer and an interesting looking shot. He downed it without sniff testing. Sweet, licorice-like taste mixed with cinnamon and peppermint in his mouth. Really, it left an awful aftertaste. He grimaced and took a long drink from his beer. The bartender smiled at him and shrugged. Dean should have known better than to order blindly.
He let his eyes wander back over to the pool table once again. Both Sam and Daryl were leaning up against the side talking. Sam leaned back and rested his hands on the green felt. His shirt hitched up slightly and Dean could see the taut muscles of his stomach, and the tiny splattering of hair at the top of the waistband. Yes, they were that low, Dean, and everyone else in the bar, got a sneak preview of Sam’s pubes. In some bizarre way, Dean was thankful for the Liquid Cocaine shot now buzzing though his system.
Finally, FINALLY, their glances found Dean. They waved him over, but Dean stayed still against the bar. He shook his head and made a shooing motion with his hand. He didn’t want to interrupt their night together, and he didn’t trust himself to be anywhere near Sam right now. So maybe the shot was a bad idea. They shrugged, and continued to talk.
Dean tried to watch the parade of people around him. Several girls tossed interested glances his way, and so did a few of the guys. But Dean could only keep his attention on Sam. Sam, who was making an effort to ignore him at this point, hit the dance floor. Dean’s already half interested cock gave a twitch as his brother began to move to the music.
The song itself wasn’t horrible. Sort of that dance techno crap, but harder, edgier. It’s obvious that Sam knew the song, as he began mouthing the words with the female voice.
I am a bitch, how do you want me?
From behind, or on my knees?
I am a slut, please hold me down
I’ll make loud noise
This shit will fuck you up
The verse repeated itself, and Sam was staring right at Dean as he repeated the words. What was he supposed to take from that? Was his brother just singing and happen to look his way? Was Sam hitting on him? Confused, horny and getting closer to being a little drunk and careless, Dean bolted to the bathroom.
He stared at himself in the badly cracked mirror. He ran some cold water in the sink and splashed himself in the face. He should not be thinking incestuous gay thoughts about Sam. That was bad, wrong, dirty, and fucking hot. Dean groaned at himself, and rested his head against the mirror. There was no way out of this, around it, or anything. He was a pervert, and he was going straight to hell. He jumped when the door to the bathroom flew open. In the mirror, he caught Sam’s stare.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam growled over the music. The rumble of his voice went straight to Dean’s cock.
“Sammy, just leave me alone.” He said, resting his arms on the porcelain and hanging his head. “Go have fun with your college buddy.” Dean heard the slight snick of the lock being thrown on the door.
“I saw how you’ve been staring at me all night.” Sam’s voice was a fraction lower than normal, and it was doing lots of lovely, nasty wrong things to Dean. “Why the fuck didn’t you do anything?”
“Cause he’s your college buddy, I’m your brother.” Dean said, standing up. Sam laughed at him, actually laughed.
“Did you pay attention to how I introduced you in the hardware store?” Sam asked. Dean stopped and thought back to the early afternoon. Sam sighed. “I introduced you as Dean, not as my brother, just as Dean.” Dean shook his head.
“It’s wrong, Sammy.” He choked out. “The things I wanna do with you, it’s not right.”
“So driving me nuts all night with staring at me, not even moving, even when Daryl was being nice and inviting you over, that’s better?” Sam puffed out. Sam flicked out the lights. “This make it easier?” He said. Dean turned around, walking towards his brother’s voice.
“Yeah.” He said. His hand reached out and he felt the hard muscle of his brother’s abdomen. He slid his hand around Sam’s waist and brought them flush together. Once pressed chest to chest, Dean let his hand slide down Sam’s back to his leather clad ass. The leather was soft over the hard muscle. Dean groaned. Sam leaned forward in the dark, searching for Dean’s lips. Finding them, he thrust his tongue in, making Dean gasp and squeeze harder.
Their moment was broken by someone tugging and banging on the door. Sam reluctantly pulled away, but held Dean’s hand. He found the light switch and turned it back on. He tossed a glance back at Dean, who looked nervous. Sam smiled.
“Stop worrying.” He whispered and unlocked the door. They were hit with a blast of music. Sam smiled. “I love this song! Wanna dance?” Dean shook his head.
“You go, I’ll watch.” Dean said as they made their way through the crowd that had gathered in front of the men’s room. There were a few hoots and cheers from the crowd as they walked past. Dean hung his head in embarrassment.
Sam released his hand at the edge of the dance floor. Dean stood still and watched his large brother move gracefully in the crowd. Sam found a spot to himself and began to move and sing.
Well I’m not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you’re standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You’ll probably move right through
Me on my way to you
~~~~~~
A/N #2: The song that Sam sings along to is "This Sh*t Will Fcuk You Up" by Combichrist. The song that I heard in my mind as Dean is walking into the club is "Hellraiser (Psychopath 01)" by Suicide Commando.
Comments are adored!
free web hit counters