Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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Drabble Request ~ Dean/Sam


for sockkpuppett
What happened before Sam went out to get burgers (re Born Under a Bad Sign)
300 words

GRAVITATION, n. The tendency of all bodies to approach one another with a strength proportion to the quantity of matter they contain -- the quantity of matter they contain being ascertained by the strength of their tendency to approach one another. This is a lovely and edifying illustration of how science, having made A the proof of B, makes B the proof of A.
~Ambrose Bierce (1842 - 1914), The Devil's Dictionary

The car smelled like sweat. Salt and bad breath, clothes worn too long. The smooth hiss of tires on pavement had ceased to sound good about a day ago. Sam shifted in his seat and Dean's fingers drummed the steering wheel. Even Zeppelin had lost their appeal.

Time to stop.

Another hotel. A random city. Dean pushed open the door, tossed his bags on the nearest bed. Sam walked past him headed straight for the bathroom.

“Shower.” Dean growled, kicked off his shoes.

“Fuck you.” Sam pulled off his shirt.

“I called it, bro.”

“I don't care.”

Steam raised the scent of sulfur as they stood under the hot water. Jostling for the best spray, laughing despite their stubborn natures. Twenty minutes, two bars of soap and a tiny empty bottle of shampoo. They smelled like themselves again.

The touching carried over. Slick fingers over wet skin and an empty bed put to use. It had been too long. Teeth bit and tongues licked and soft sighs turned to moans and growls. Finger pressed into places that were tight and dark. Backs arched and hips thrust. Cocks hardened and the sharp scent of plastic and lube and rubber spiced the air around them.



“Right there.”

“Fuck yes.”

After the hours in the Impala, stretching, spreading and moving felt so Goddamn good. Clean perspiration and hot come over fingers, sliding down thighs. Dean turned and sighed and his stomach made noises loud enough for both of them to hear.

“I'll go get some food.”

“Take money out of my wallet.”

Dean leaned into the heat Sam left behind as his brother dressed, grabbed a key from the dresser. He kept his eyes closed and breathed in the scent of family and safety and trust. Of Sam.

“Be right back.”

Tags: dean/sam, drabbles, ficlet, supernatural
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