chase_acow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chase_acow) wrote2008-10-07 07:07 pm
chase_acow) wrote2008-10-07 07:07 pm
SPN 4.03 crack tag cuz y'all are crazy.
Due to the 4.03 poll:
Seriously, can you just hear Dean making fun of Sam for going darkside and turning pink?
"Dude, it's not funny!"
Dean glanced up at Sam and doubled over again, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. He'd been laughing for ten minutes straight; his cheeks hurt, his sides hurt, and tears streamed down his face. His belt buckle dug into his gut, and he couldn't seem to make himself stop.
"Dean!"
It really wasn't funny. 425 Waterman had been hollowed out. Sure, there had been a mess of demons living there, but after Sam had finished with them, there wasn't even ash left over from the bodies they'd inhabited. Furniture splintered, glass shattered, the carpet was shredded and Sam stood in the middle of it. It wasn't funny at all.
"Stop laughing, Dean."
He really couldn't help it. Dean dug the fleshy parts of his palms into his eyes and held his breath until he got himself under control. Wiping his eyes, he straightened and turned until he saw Sam standing with his hands on his hips glaring at Dean for all he as worth, then he lost it again.
"Dean, I'm evil now! You can't just blow that off."
"Yeah, yeah, Sammy," Dean waved his hand through the air between chuckles. "What are you going to do, kick puppies and push little old people into traffic?"
Sam's eyebrows dropped even lower over his eyes, slightly obscuring the new wash of pink that hid his humanity. When he stepped closer, Dean could see purple specks floating through Sam's eyes, and sniggered again.
"I can't believe anyone ever thought that you were the Antichrist," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "So, listen. You're freaking heaven out. How about you promise to be a good little psychic and we go back to hunting things and saving people?"
"What about the war?" Sam asked, cocking his head to the side so that his bangs brushed over his face.
"I'm pretty sure I never registered for the selective service," Dean answered, shrugging. He shoved his hands in his hip pockets and walked close enough to bump Sam's shoulder. "C'mon Sam, it's only been a week and I'm already sick of working for The Man. Let's get back to what we do."
Sam looked at him doubtfully, "The family business?"
"Yeah, I'll even sacrifice a poodle to your gay ass every once in a while if you need me to."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I kinda want to fuck you."
Dean widened his eyes as Sam grabbed his hips and held him still. Sam slid his hands up Dean's back and over his shoulders to his hair, but he was still kept in place by Sam's mind whammy. He licked his lips as Sam dipped his head low and said, "You always were a fairy."
The kiss scorched Dean down through his chest, heat settling like a whirlpool in his belly. Sam covered and encompassed him, swirling through him until he wouldn't be able to sort them out with tweezers and a microscope. If Sam hadn't still been holding him, he would have fallen forward chasing after Sam's lips.
Sam looked incredibly too smug as he smirked and brushed his knuckles over Dean's erection. "You're not going to freak out or anything? No 'we can't do this, it's wrong'?" he asked.
"Naw," Dean shook his head and patted Sam on the cheek. "Let's go, Pink Ranger, we've got work to do."
******************************************************************************
Anyone have a prompt for the continuing adventures of evil-pink-Sam?
Seriously, can you just hear Dean making fun of Sam for going darkside and turning pink?
"Dude, it's not funny!"
Dean glanced up at Sam and doubled over again, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. He'd been laughing for ten minutes straight; his cheeks hurt, his sides hurt, and tears streamed down his face. His belt buckle dug into his gut, and he couldn't seem to make himself stop.
"Dean!"
It really wasn't funny. 425 Waterman had been hollowed out. Sure, there had been a mess of demons living there, but after Sam had finished with them, there wasn't even ash left over from the bodies they'd inhabited. Furniture splintered, glass shattered, the carpet was shredded and Sam stood in the middle of it. It wasn't funny at all.
"Stop laughing, Dean."
He really couldn't help it. Dean dug the fleshy parts of his palms into his eyes and held his breath until he got himself under control. Wiping his eyes, he straightened and turned until he saw Sam standing with his hands on his hips glaring at Dean for all he as worth, then he lost it again.
"Dean, I'm evil now! You can't just blow that off."
"Yeah, yeah, Sammy," Dean waved his hand through the air between chuckles. "What are you going to do, kick puppies and push little old people into traffic?"
Sam's eyebrows dropped even lower over his eyes, slightly obscuring the new wash of pink that hid his humanity. When he stepped closer, Dean could see purple specks floating through Sam's eyes, and sniggered again.
"I can't believe anyone ever thought that you were the Antichrist," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "So, listen. You're freaking heaven out. How about you promise to be a good little psychic and we go back to hunting things and saving people?"
"What about the war?" Sam asked, cocking his head to the side so that his bangs brushed over his face.
"I'm pretty sure I never registered for the selective service," Dean answered, shrugging. He shoved his hands in his hip pockets and walked close enough to bump Sam's shoulder. "C'mon Sam, it's only been a week and I'm already sick of working for The Man. Let's get back to what we do."
Sam looked at him doubtfully, "The family business?"
"Yeah, I'll even sacrifice a poodle to your gay ass every once in a while if you need me to."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I kinda want to fuck you."
Dean widened his eyes as Sam grabbed his hips and held him still. Sam slid his hands up Dean's back and over his shoulders to his hair, but he was still kept in place by Sam's mind whammy. He licked his lips as Sam dipped his head low and said, "You always were a fairy."
The kiss scorched Dean down through his chest, heat settling like a whirlpool in his belly. Sam covered and encompassed him, swirling through him until he wouldn't be able to sort them out with tweezers and a microscope. If Sam hadn't still been holding him, he would have fallen forward chasing after Sam's lips.
Sam looked incredibly too smug as he smirked and brushed his knuckles over Dean's erection. "You're not going to freak out or anything? No 'we can't do this, it's wrong'?" he asked.
"Naw," Dean shook his head and patted Sam on the cheek. "Let's go, Pink Ranger, we've got work to do."
Anyone have a prompt for the continuing adventures of evil-pink-Sam?