CAUSE IT'S THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT.
Plot: Collection of Wincest ficlets, established relationship or not, pre-series or not, more or less short... but with just the right amount of fluff you need after a bad day. ;)
Oh, and for those who still wouldn't know, yeah, Wincest implies Dean/Sam (or vice-versa) slash, you're warned. There was a time when I would have just grimaced at the thought of a love relationship between brothers, but hey, when two guys fit that perfectly together, you tend to forget their family bonds, don't you. Ah well, call me sick if you want! hehe.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are obviously not mine, duh!
Note: Please, keep in mind I'm French, hence the English mistakes.
RICOCHET.
"Still sulking?" Sam asks hesitantly as he walks towards his brother.
He knows a hungry and angry Dean can be scarier than any of the creatures they hunt.
"Of course I am! Dude, you forgot my pie!" Dean mumbles reproachfully, not tearing his gaze away from the lake in front of them.
He sounds like a five-year-old, and Sam can't help thinking he's unbearably cute right now. He sits down on the grass next to Dean. The night is falling and the grass is wet with evening dew, his butt's going to be soaked but he doesn't care.
"Look, I'm sorry... I really am...," he says in a barely audible voice.
"You'd better be!" Dean snaps, looking daggers at him, his upper lip covered in beer foam.
Sam suppresses a laugh and fights the urge to wipe the white moustache off Dean's mouth. Instead, he slides his hand down his brother's muscular arm, and feels the cold skin, and the Goosebumps.
"You're cold... Want me to bring you your jacket?" he offers.
"I'm fine!" Dean yells as he pushes Sam's hand away, "I don't want my jacket, all I want is a fucking pie!"
Sam heaves a sigh. Dean's always been as stubborn as a mule, but Sam's not in any position to blame him. He closes his eyes, and listens to the lake water lapping quietly by the shore as the wind blows softly through his hair. Unconsciously, he lets his fingers run through the grass until they reach a small, flat stone. He picks it up and stares at it. The sight of this little grey stone in his hand awakens childhood memories. Cherished memories. Without thinking, he stands up and walks towards the edge of the lake and tries to skip the stone across the water but it only jumps twice before it sinks like a rock and makes the water ripple.
"Amateur!" Sam hears Dean say mockingly.
Dean heads to where Sam is standing, and after a short instant, he holds him a thin flat stone.
"Here, try this one," he suggests.
Sam doesn't say a word, but his lips slightly curl into a smile. At least, Dean is talking to him... He takes the stone and throws it, but this time, it sinks before the first skip.
"Jesus, you really suck, Sammy!" Dean scoffs. "You never learn, huh? I spent hours teaching you how to do this when we were kids. Step one, choose the right stone. Flat round ones are the best. See?" He asks as he gives Sam another stone he has just picked up. "Step two, hold stone between thumb and forefinger, in the shape of the letter 'C' " Sam holds his breath as Dean touches his fingers and helps him to hold the stone correctly."Step three," Dean continues, now standing behind Sam and placing his hands on his brother's hips, holding them firmly, guiding Sam's position. Sam lets out a surprised gasp. "Set your body sideways to the water, and stand slightly crouched. Final step, bring your arm forward across your body and let go of the stone," Dean announces as he grabs Sam's arm and accompanies the movement.
Five rebounds. Sam turns to face Dean, smiling triumphantly.
Sam's smile's so bright, and he looks so adorable, that Dean wonders how he managed to be mad at him more than one minute.
"Not bad," he mumbles.
"Still mad at me?"
Dean tilts his head to the side a little, looking away from Sam's pleading puppy eyes.
"Kiss me, you moron, then maybe I'll wipe the slate clean," he jokes.
He always jokes about hugging or kissing, but truth is it's the only way he found to hide his real feelings.
"I can do that," Sam replies defiantly, a smile both shy and malicious on his face.
Dean's heart skips a beat. Sam shouldn't say things like that. It's... dangerous... It's... Before he can say a word, Sam closes the distance between them and pulled him against him gently. Their lips are nearly touching and Dean's heart threatens to burst out of his ribcage. Sam's hand shakes a little as he strokes the line of Dean's cheekbone with the tip of a finger. His tongue darts out and pushes its way into Dean's full lips. The kiss tastes of beer, and of something... purely Dean. It doesn't feel wrong. It just feels like home...
Sam finally pulls away, panting. He looks a bit apprehensively at Dean.
"You still owe me a pie!" Dean smirks.
Sam grins with relief and the freckles on Dean's nose are just the cutest things he knows...
Thanks for reading!