eisht: (sam to)
.




Something little for Sunday. I hope it amuses. I haven't written for what seems like forever and I haven't checked in here for months (sorry). I just started on my Big Bang, and I realised that I am so, so out of practice. Words won't come and and when they do they're the wrong ones and way too many - uck. I figured it was time for a drabble.

Title: How to Brush Your Teeth
Rating: teens and up
Description: It's the old routine in a motel bathroom for Sam and Dean, or is it?
Length: Drabble (100 words)
Disclaimer: This is all fiction folks, the boys and their world don't belong to me.*damn*

***
There’s mold on the bathroom tiles and the mirror has rust spots. Sam and Dean brush their teeth together, two minutes, as always. Then, Dean crowds Sam against the counter; all hot skin and hard lines. Their kiss is minty, with insistent lips and wet tongue. Suddenly Sam realizes something is wrong.

“We have to wake up!”

“What?” Dean looks crestfallen.

They’re lying together on cold concrete in a run-down warehouse.

“Was it the kiss?” asks Dean, with furrowed brow.

“No! Stupid! It was my toothbrush. It wasn’t purple.”

They finish the kiss for real before they finish the hunt.

***
Yes I ship Sam/purple toothbrush, I ship it hard.
eisht: (murdered)
.





By today, I was supposed to have a Halloween challenge and a verse update written, but in the end my concentration has been shot, and not a single word has made it onto a page. *sorry*

This is my teeny, tiny offering for Halloween instead.

Title: Sam's Halloween
Rating: pg-13
Description: Sam hates Halloween. (Wincest)
Length: Drabble (100 words)
Disclaimer: This is all fiction folks, the boys and their world don't belong to me.*damn*

Sam's Halloween

Sam remembers a Halloween party with a love that was shattered.

Monsters, Samhain and demon-blood memories stain his tattered soul.

Sam hates Halloween.

But there are small compensations;

Dean caught with his hand in a candy bowl, and Dean’s sticky-toffee grin.

Dean’s happy-full groan, and the wicked gleam in his eye when Sam’s hand slides under layers to soothe his belly.

Sugar, sharp on Dean’s lips and the syrup taste of Dean’s mouth as Sam steals a kiss.

And the warm exhale of Dean’s sweet breath on Sam’s chest, as their limbs tangle together, on a messed up motel bed.
~~~

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