Come And Get It (Dean/Cas)
Prompt: I'd like to see a Sam/Dean or Cas/Dean fic based on the 'Friends' episode where Monica is sick and keeps trying (and eventually succeeds!) to woo Chandler into bed with her. Because she's in denial and they're both "in the priiibe of liiibe."
d&c
"You will not heal if you exert yourself."
Dean looks down at himself, then back at Castiel. He spreads his arms uncertainly. "I'll be gedtle."
"You'll sweat. It's unwise to wet oneself when one is ill."
Dean grins a cocky grin and undoes the top button on his shirt, watching Cas' face. Hesitating, he coughs thickly into his shoulder, then sneezes into both hands. He snorts, rolls his shoulders and flicks a coy gaze back up to the angel. "Lucky you. If I'b wet, I'll deed subbuddy to help bee - hhh - help be dry - ih-HISZZHSHSH-uh!" Dean slumps toward the tissue box and raids it. "Dabbit."
"You are... beautiful, Dean."
Dean falters mid-blow and meets Castiel's eyes.
"But surely you'll enjoy the act more when you are well."
"Cas," Dean whines. He coughs into his elbow and throws his Kleenex on the floor. "I'b hordy DOW."
"I can see that." The angel admires the bulge in his lover's pants. Then he drags his gaze up to the pasty face and runny nose. "But it would be unwise."
"You beed you dod't wadt bee." Dean sags onto the bed and flops on his back. He snuffles fruitlessly and twists onto his side.
"That's inaccurate." Haltingly Castiel approaches the bed. "I want you... baby."
"So fuck bee." Dean rubs his red nose and blinks up with glassy eyes.
Cas shuffles from foot to foot. "No."
"It's 'cause I'b sick, right? Let bee tell you, Cas. You could do a lot worse. This body..." Dean trails two fingers up his thigh. He breaks off to cough up something that he spits into his shirt. "It gets aroudd."
Cas sits on the edge of the bed and brushes Dean's hair off his forehead. "Go to sleep."
"Hey." Dean shifts out of reach. "I'b gettigg off todight, wud way or adduther." Slowly, carefully, he undoes the button of his jeans.
Castiel swallows.
Dean sucks in a hard breath, whimpers and sneezes wetly into the wall. "D-TJZZHSHSH! ESSHHSHHSHOOO!" He drags a sleeve under his nose and gently tugs his zipper.
"You aren't well." Cas is transfixed on the human's pants and his hands and what the hands are doing to the pants.
"So bake bee feel better." Dean shimmies the jeans halfway down his hips and spreads the fly wide. He sniffles expectantly.
The angel sighs and takes off his trench coat. He dips down to Dean's face. "You're less attractive when you're ill, and yet I find you alluring."
"The feeligg is butual." Dean kisses him for as long as he can without breathing through his nose.
Plunder (Sam/Dean)
Prompt: Dean with a super sneezy, miserable cold with hovering (turned on? Slash?) Sam. At one point, Sam covers one (or more!) of Dean's sneezes with his own bare hand.
s&d
"You kinky bastard."
Sam knots Dean's other wrist to the bed with his dog shirt. "Fuckin' right." He kisses Dean's warm knuckles, then sits back and admires his spoils.
"Aren't you gonna do my feet?"
"You can't reach your nose with those." Sam idly fingers Dean's belly button, flicks out some lint. He smoothes a palm over the taut stomach, watching Dean watch him. "How you doin'?"
Dean lifts his torso and tosses himself an inch to the left. He shrugs. "So far so..." a frown flits over his face and he sucks in a breath, then holds it and lets it go. His nose flushes and he sniffles wetly. "Good."
"Having a little trouble there?" Sam pulls down the Kleenex box, sets it beside Dean's head. "Need anything?"
Dean turns and glares at the tissues, which flutter in a frustrated puff of air. "Bitch." He stretches toward them, manages to mouth the corner of the box. "HHH-hgh. Hh-HIDGZZZSH!" It totters a little, Kleenex dipping in the gale.
"Mmh." Sam drags a thumb along the groove between two of Dean's ribs. "That was hot."
Dean sniffles up at him, nose pink, snot leaking down toward his lip. "Little help here?"
"No."
Dean's forehead creases. "What?"
"Ask me better." Sam bites Dean's chest.
"Ow!" Dean squirms. "What are you, a cannibal?" Sam doesn't answer, busy gnawing on his shoulder.
Dean snuffles and examines the ceiling. "Please, Sam, will you wipe my nose for me?"
Sam drops a light kiss to his chin. "Why?"
"Because I... uhh, God... hh-HH-HIT-ZISHSHHOO!"
Sam flattens himself to Dean, grinds into his hip. "Oh, fuck."
Dean gasps. "Sab. Jesus." He's flushed everywhere, deepest of all in his flaring nose. His wet lips suck in another breath and Sam moulds himself to Dean's chest, wraps greedy arms around his ribcage.
"Hh-HHH-DSZHZHZHHSSHSH! ISHSHSHSHOO!"
Overheated muscles buck under Sam's skin. A fine mist sprays his forehead. The heartbeat under his ear goes crazy.
"Huhgh." Sam presses a fierce kiss to his solar plexus. He pushes out a shaky breath and lies still for a moment. Then he hauls himself up and plucks a tissue from the box.
Dean's upper lip is coated in clear mucus. His eyes are watery. Sam teases one nipple with the tip of the tissue. "What should I do with this?"
"Cleed bee up." Dean wriggles his nose ineffectually.
"You gonna help me?"
A confused gaze meets Sam's. Then it clears. "Yeah. I'b gudda blow idto it. I'b gudda blow it real good. Real hard. You like that?"
Sam can't hold back the smile. "Fuckin' right you are. Fuckin' right." He folds up the tissue and lowers it slowly, slowly, toward Dean's nose. Before touchdown he lifts it back up, and Dean whimpers.
"OK." He settles the soft paper around Dean's red, damp nostrils. Dean watches him from behind the tissue. "Give 'er."
Dean winks, screws up his eyes and gurgles hard into the Kleenex. Sam presses one nostril shut, then the other.
"Better?" Sam wipes Dean's sensitive skin dry and goes still, hovering close to his nose. "Mmhh. God, I could eat you." He inches in and brushes the side of Dean's warm nose with his lips.
Dean sighs contentedly against him. Then he twists away, his chest expanding in short jerks. Sam greedily cups his twitching nostrils and wide open mouth.
"Hhh-h-h-h-HAZZZSHSHZHUH!" Hot wetness explodes against Sam's palm. "DTSHSH!"
"Oh my god." Sam wipes his hand on Dean's belly and presses in to kiss Dean hard. His palm trails warm slime all the way down.