OKAY SO IM WRITING WINCEST.
Guilty as charged.
BUT HEY. It's hot. At least to me. Stop judging my muse, it can't control itself.
This will be like, a 2-shot, probably. Unless my muse goes on and make it into something bigger like it usually does. But for right now, it's a two shot.
M because of the second chapter. Which I have yet to write. :)
"Fuck." Dean said, pulling the dagger from the lifeless body. Blood was splattered across his form, soaking in his shirt and jacket. It was spotted across his face, covering some of the freckles. He was knelt over the djinn's form; it's now cold eyes staring into his. He grimaced and wiped the blood off on the man's shirt, looking up at Sam.
"That everyone?" He asked, getting up and dusting himself off. Sam looked around, hair swaying around his face as he walked through the warehouse, peeking into hidden crevices and corners. Soon enough though, he came back to stand next to Dean, his tall form overwhelming him.
"Yeah. That's it."
Dean nodded. "Good." He said, eyes glancing over at the two dead innocents lying on the floor, bodies limp and emaciated, dried blood crusted in the corner of their lips. Their skin was dry and yellowy, veins visible beneath the surface, eyes bloody and cold.
"Poor bastards." Dean said, looking up to Sam. "C'mon. Let's go celebrate."
"Celebrate?" Sam asked as he followed Dean from the warehouse, walking underneath the starry sky. Sam tightened his jacket around him, breath coming from his lips in a warm puff of air that disappeared in a wisp. The moon was bright, shining down on the Impala with an ethereal glow. Dean smiled, going to the other side of the car, running a hand over the roof, smiling.
"God she's beautiful." Dean said. He grinned, eyes twinkling. The moonlight splayed nicely over him, pale skin flowing. His lips were a pale shade of pink, green eyes bright.
For a moment, Sam was mesmerized. Under this moonlight, Dean transformed from his already attractive self into an ethereal beauty.
OK, what? Sam thought his brother was hot. Big deal- it had been happening since he was 13. At first, he had been disgusted by the thought, but as he grew older, as time passed, he found himself more comfortable with the fact. Nothing else had ever been normal in their life, from the ghosts and werewolves to sleeping with demons- it had all transcended beyond the "normal" society rules. So when Sam found himself jerking it to the thought of his brother's naked form against his, moaning underneath him, calling out his name- it was no big deal.
So Sam admitted that he found his brother beyond gorgeous, beautiful in a way that he couldn't really compare to anyone else- he was unlike any female, the hard sinewy muscles much too alluring to be girly, but beautiful in a way no girl could compare.
"Dude, you okay?" Dean asked, eyes narrow. His lips were slightly parted, a pink tongue dashed out to wet them. Sam's eyes followed the movement, and then flicked up to meet Dean's gaze. He swallowed- his throat had gone dry.
"Yeah. Yeah, man. I'm good." He said, nodding. Dean didn't look like he believed him, but he grinned and nodded, a mischievous look appearing in his eyes.
"Good. Cuz the last person that looked at me like that got laid." He said, winking before he got into the car. Sam's eyes went wide before he followed suit.
"So. You wanted to celebrate?" Sam asked tightly, watching Dean start the car.
"Yeah. I was thinking maybe we get some strippers and booze. Ya know, regular celebration, the whole sha-bang." Dean said, smirking as he looked over to his younger brother, whose eyes had widened, lips taut. Dean narrowed his eyes.
"Dude chill. I was kiddin'." He said. "There's a pub near the motel. We'll chill, drink some beer, play some pool. It'll be good."
Sam relaxed, swallowed and nodded. "Cool. That's… cool."
Dean nodded, gave Sam a look, and drove off.
The bar was crowded, but not overly so. There was a pleasant hum of chatter that floated through the air. They leaned against the pool table they currently occupied, Dean watched as Sam leaned over the table, lining up his shot. The bottom of his shirt rose up as he stretched, Dean's eyes flicking to the skin there. The waistband of his underwear peeked above his jeans, the beginning of the v-cut dripping below the material. His eyes lingered for a moment longer than he wanted to. Sam moved his arm back and hit the ball into the pocket, coming to stand back up with a sigh. Dean watched as Sam rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing under the flannel he loved to wear. His gaze traveled upward, scanning his strong jaw line, hints of stubble peppered across, up to those soft dewy eyes he got lost in so frequently. Those eyes that could tell so much with just a gaze, those eyes that saw right through him and could break him down without even trying. His fingers twitched around his pool cue as he yearned to run his fingers through the silky strands that hung from his brother's head. How many times had he imaged running his hands through those velvet locks? How many times had he fantasized about pulling at that hair as Sam lay over him, muscles sliding against his body in an overwhelming way that drove him in-
"Dean?" he heard a voice ask. He snapped out of his reverie and was faced witht eh vision of his brother's unfortunately clothed chest. He ran his eyes up to meet Sam's gaze, which held a mixture of confusion and worry.
God Sam was fucking huge.
And damn him if that wasn't a huge turn on.
"What's up?" He asked, voice tight and dry. He swallowed, licked his lips, shaking the perverted thoughts from his mind. Sam was his brother, those thoughts were supposed to be disgusting- but that was the problem, wasn't it?
"You alright, man?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. Dean smirked.
"I'm cool man, just thinking about how you," He said, accentuating the statement with a poke to the chest- which reminded him of how built Sam was, all those huge muscles sliding over him "-are gonna get your ass kicked." He stated brokenly, walking to the other side of the pool table. He grabbed his beer and took a swig, eyeing it with a slight frown when he found it almost empty. He looked around the room, eyes scanning for the blonde waitress that had been eyeing him all night. He finally found her, serving a group of overly rowdy men at a table across the bar, and sure enough she was smirking at him. He waved her over with a smile, peering into her blue eyes as she sauntered over. She flashed a toothy grin.
"Somethin' I can do for you?" She asked. Dean chuckled, eyes falling to the heart tattoo on her left shoulder.
"Well, there's a lot of things you can do for me sweetheart," he said, leaning in closer. "But for now two beers will be good."
The slim girl rolled her eyes in flirtatious annoyance and turned around, long hair whipping behind her.
"Something's off about her." Sam said from behind him. Dean jumped a little and turned around, finding Sam standing directly behind him, looking over his shoulder. His heart quickened with the proximity.
"What could possibly be wrong with that?" He asked, but Sam looked convinced.
"Didn't feel right." Sam said tersely, eyes locked onto the girl's invisible trail. Dean scoffed.
"Well, let me do my thing and something will feel right, if you kn-" Dean looked at Sam, who had his bitchface firmly in place. Dean rolled his eyes. "Geez. Take a joke."
The girl strutted back, two cold beers in hand. She put them on the edge of the pool table, putting her hand on her hip and looked into Dean's eyes.
"This good enough?" She asked, smiling. Dean grinned and leaned over her, grabbing the beers and coming closer to her face.
"We'll just have to wait and see." He said, smiling. She grinned back and raised her hand, lightly touching his exposed bicep. Dean grinned at the contact, smiling as she stood and left. He turned to Sam with a grin.
"Dude. She's totally into me."
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "C'mon man. Your turn."
"Dean. This is pathetic." Sam said, watching Dean stumble across the blacktop, tripping over his own feet. He kept toppling over as he struggled to walk to the Impala, Sam straggling behind and watching him in amusement.
"Sshuddup, Sammy." Dean slurred, finally reaching the car. He overdramatically collapsed on the hood, running his hand over the cool metal. "Baby I missed you."
Sam rolled his eyes. He walked over to his intoxicated brother. "You shouldn't have had all those beers, Dean."
"I 'ad like, two!" He said, voice muffled against the car.
"You had like seven." Sam replied. "That waitress kept bringing them to you."
"She was bad news, Dean! Something was definitely up with her." Sam said. He waited a few moments, but received no response. He rolled his eyes. "Dude, you are not sleeping on the car. Give me the keys." He grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him up to his feet. The shorter man stumbled a bit, but eventually face planted into Sam's chest. He let out a content sigh and burrowed his face into Sam's shirt.
"So warm, Sam…" Dean trailed off. Sam's body went tense with the contact, mouth dry with the comment.
"Dean, give me the keys." Sam said tightly. Dean responded by wrapping his arms around Sam's middle, pulling them closer. Sam's heart was beating faster- he had to stop this.
"Pocket. I want ya ta dig for em, big boy." Dean chuckled out; face still pressed into Sam's chest. Sam took a deep breath and found the pocket in Dean's jeans. He slid his fingers in.
"Careful Sammy, might be a little 'xcited ta see ya." Dean laughed out, form shaking against Sam's form in mirth. Sam's hand stopped its exploration for a moment, but he continued on with the strong desire to get back to a bed. And plus, that was probably the alcohol talking. He finally found the keys and hurriedly pulled them out. He unwrapped Dean and led him to the passenger side, pushing him into the seat.
"Whoah, careful there Sammy. I like it rough." Dean burst into a loud laughter to which Sam ignored and hopped into the driver's side. He sighed, started the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot.
Sam got out of the car, walking over to the passenger side. His brother had fallen asleep on the ride there, a soft snore rising from his form. Sam surveyed the man- Dean looked even more angelic when he slept. His pink lips were slightly parted, eyelashes softly fallen on his cheeks, the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He looked so peaceful, such a contrast to the huge internal war that Sam knew was always happening. The only time he ever saw Dean like this was when he was sleeping or right after he came home from getting laid- and for once Sam wanted to be the cause of his relaxation.
He sighed and bent down, putting his arm behind Deans back and into between the bend of his knees, and lifted. He carried Dean bridal style form the car and kicked the door shut with his foot. Dean snuggled in closer in his slumber, seeking more of Sam's warmth. It Dean kept doing that they were going to have a serious problem. When he reached the door it took a few moments of skillful maneuvering to unlock it, but eventually he opened it to their two bedroom motel. Sam watched for Dean's head as he entered, flicked on the lights with his shoulder, and carried his brother to his bed. He laid him down softly then sat down next to him. He debated his next plan of action, and came to the verdict that his next actions were a total necessity.
He put a hand to the small of Dean's back and rose him up gently so that Dean's head came to rest on his shoulder, puffs of breath hitting the skin on his neck. Sam gulped, carefully removing his jacket, but his fingers met warm skin as Dean's jacket pulled the shirt he was in. he wanted so badly to run his fingers over that soft, smooth skin, to taste it, to lick it, but he restrained himself. Not like this. He sighed and peeled off the remnants of the jacket from his brother's body. He laid down Dean's head against the pillow and went down to his feet to remove his boots. After a moment, Dean shifted in his sleep, curling into himself. Sam admired him from a far, Dean's beauty imprinting in his mind.
He had wanted for so long to have Dean's beauty for himself, to have those gorgeous eyes and smiles, the soft skin, the lithe muscle- all just for him.
But he couldn't.
He sighed looking to the door to the shower and his bed, quickly deciding it was too much trouble to shower now, vowing to do so in the morning. He removed his shoes, socks and jacket, climbing into the bed, turning to face Dean's back. He smiled a small grin, reaching up to turn off the light on the lamp.
He needed a good night's rest.