Emergency Exit (gen)
Prompt: Dean was up for 3(?) nights in Dream a Little Dream. Would love to see Sam take care of an exhausted, sleepy, cold-ridden Dean.
s&d
"Want me to drive?"
Dean blinks at him slowly in the dark car. A drop of sweat darts down from his hairline and catches at his temple, then fattens and slips down to his chin. He wipes it away and sniffs. "Thanks," he says.
Sam frowns. "Welcome."
s&d
Sam zips up the canvas duffel bags and follows Bobby out to the car. They peer in at Dean, who's drooling against the passenger window.
"Columbus oughta do it," says Bobby. "By the time anyone thinks to look for us - if they ever do - they won't be thinkin' to look there."
"You sure you're OK to drive?"
"Doin' better'n Princess here."
s&d
Outside of Wheeling Dean mutters something in his sleep. His skin's still wet in the moonlight. He grunts and flinches, then turns his head and makes the saddest sound Sam's ever heard.
"Hey." Sam thumps his chest. "Dean."
He shivers and straightens in the seat, jerking up a defensive knee and elbow. When he registers Sam, he exhales, drooping. He squints out at the passing forest. "Where are we?"
"Ohio. Two hours to Columbus."
"Colubb-" His voice catches on the word. He hacks into a fist.
"Bobby's gonna meet us. Figured we should split before the cops found Jeremy and started asking questions."
"Hbb." Dean sits forward and coughs some more.
"You OK?"
"Better if I could breathe." He pulls open the glove box and rattles things around. "You got a dapkid?"
Sam pats his breast pocket. "Sorry."
Dean snuffles. He cranks up the heat. "So what'd you see id by dreab?"
s&d
"Ih-HXXTSH! Hh-hhh-TCHOO!"
"Kid, you look like somethin' I stepped in." Bobby moves in for the forehead feel while Dean's blowing his nose.
"How cubb you're dot sick?" Dean pulls up the hoodie's hood and settles deeper into the couch. "You were up just as logg as bee."
"Immune system of iron. Lays rock salt around every cell."
"Ha ha. HHH-ITZHZHHSH!"
s&d
"I like beigg alive."
Sam rolls his head on the pillow. "Yeah?"
"Evedd dow. I feel like shit add I still..."
Sam listens across the gap between their beds.
"I dod't wadda go."
"OK. We'll find a way to save you."
Hungry
Prompt:How about something like the example prompt: Dean incessantly rubbing his really really really itchy nose.
s&d
Dean's nose is pink like salmon, raw and glistening and open wide.
"Hhh-hah..." He rubs two fingers up and down its length and sniffles sharply. He goes back to his book.
s&d
Dean glances over his shoulder and sets two steaming coffees on the table.
"We're not allowed..."
He shucks off his jacket and winks at Sam. His nose is red as raspberries. "Hah-hgh... hoo."
s&d
Dean kneads from the nostrils up and right back down.
"Hah-ahh. HHHHH... kftp!"
He produces a napkin and strokes.
s&d
"We're closing in five minutes," the lady says. Dean smiles politely and pulls up a book in front of his cup.
"Hagh," he breathes as soon as she's gone. "Ah-HAHh... hh-hh-HHH... HHHHHH-TZZZZSHSH!"
The table takes it all.
Sam shifts hungrily as Dean's blowing his nose. "Better?"
Dean drags a boot up the inside of Sam's leg. His nostrils quiver, lush as cherries. "You're so damn cute."
Germaphobe
Prompt: One of the boys has a messy, sneezy cold and they have to interview someone who's a germaphobe.
s&d
This is exactly what I need: one more pair of power-tripping fuckwads who have no idea what happened that night, one of whom looks like he has the goddamn plague. I would give him a cup of honey lemon tea if I didn't think it'd make him feel OK about being here. He should not be here. This is fast food and my office is tiny and there's nowhere for those germs to go except straight up my nose and my boss thinks I'm lazy enough as it is, never mind me wanting another sick day over a stupid cold that I'm so going to get now.
Ugh. They might be assholes, but at least they're kind of nice to look at. I sit on the desk with my feet on the rolling chair, and they loom together crunched up between the desk and the door and the safe, and that's all the space there is, folks. They're blocking my view of the security camera's live feed. How will I know if there's a line out front? Fuckers. Pretty, pretty fuckers.
"Tell us what happened in your own words," the extra-large one says, and he's probably faking it but he seems like he might actually have an open mind. Fuck him and his suit and his pretending.
"That lady in the street. It was dark out but it looked like she coughed up a cloud of black smoke."
The other one sniffles and feels in his pockets.
"What happened right before that?" the taller one goes on.
"Nothing. I went out onto my balcony and she was down on the road, just walking. She looked in the window of the house across the street while she was going past. Then the thing happened, with the smoke."
The less-huge one gives up and wipes his nose on the back of his hand. The giant spots my napkin dispenser and says, "Do you mind?" I shake my head and he pulls out a few and passes them to his partner, who turns into the safe and my coat hanging on the back of the door and blows his nose.
Contaminated. It's over for me. I wonder who's going to do the ordering while I'm off. Nobody's really trained.
I wait for the next question but the super-giant is watching the baby-giant's back while he blows his nose like it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen. I check. It's not. But the big guy's blushing, and then he pulls at his tie and clears his throat and turns back to me.
"And uh. That's when you called 9-1-1?"
"Yeah."
We both watch the sick man rotate a bit unsteadily and rejoin us, a flush in his cheeks.
"Do you have any idea what it was about your neighbors' house that might have caught the woman's interest?"
"There was nothing weird going on that I could see. I mean, they were in there, and their curtains were open, which I guess is enough for some people."
"Peepigg Tobbs," the wobbly one says with a pale grin at his partner, and then his eyes glaze over and he twists away again. "Hhhhh-KTCCHSHSHH!" He pants and sniffs and polishes the safe door with his jacket sleeve. "God. I'b sorry." He chuckles wheezily. "This cold."
The bigger one goes bright red and shoves his notebook in front of his crotch. He flicks a wan smile at me and - am I making this up? - sidles over just a fraction of an inch and smells his partner's hair.
"Dude," the one with the cold breathes, and elbows him aside. "So, uh." He rubs his red nose with my napkins and coughs into his arm. "Eddythigg special about your deighbors?"
"I don't know them. They've only been there a few months, I think. I see their landlord working on the property all the time. Put in a new foundation last year."
"New foundation?" The two men exchange a look. "Sound like anybody else we know?" the taller one murmurs.
"Thagk you," says the less-massive one, and he reaches out to shake my hand. I die inside a little bit and then let him squeeze my palm with his germy one. His hand's big and warm though and his grip's firm and reassuring, and there's something in his eyes while he's doing it that makes me think he might actually believe me.
"You've been a real help," the super-mammoth says, and he turns and looks at his partner like it's all he can do not to fucking eat him right there, before fumbling with the door handle and cramming us all together as he opens it inward. As the door's easing itself shut I see the sick one smack the healthy one on the ass.
I blink. That's the best thing I've seen all week. I wonder if anybody else saw. I can't wait to tell somebody. Fuck, I hope they know their shit.
Hey. I feel a bit better. They seem to have some idea what to do. And maybe I'll get to watch them out my window while I'm home with that guy's cold, parading their hot asses around my street. Maybe they'll make out when they think nobody's looking. That wouldn't suck completely.
Shark
Prompt: Dean/Sam. Sam with a sneeze!kink. Dean has a cold and Sam decides to have a little fun with stopping Dean's sneezes (i.e., putting his finger under Dean's nose, pinching his nose, whatever) and initiating his sneezes.
s&d
"TZZHHH! Uhhh." Dean sniffles in the cavern of his cupped hands and eyes Sam warily. "Was it good for you?"
Sam paws at the bed until he produces a remote, his gaze locked on Dean's flushed nose. He throws the movie onto mute. "Hmm?"
"By eyes are up here." The tone is stern, but when Sam glances up they're happy-looking, crinkled around the edges.
He swallows. "'Sup?"
"I ahhhh... hh-hh-HGGHHFF!"
Sam rubs his mouth, blushing. "You're not... why are you sneezing?"
"I hhhhhh..."
Sam jams a finger sideways up under Dean's nose. The skin there's warm and just a tiny bit damp from the other sneezes. His red nostrils flare convulsively, then deflate.
"Ahhhh." Dean snuffles, then kisses Sam's finger. "Good save."
"Are you... pale? Oh my God, did you finally catch-"
"HHHH..." Dean's face is scrunched up, a hand hovering close to his face.
Sam pinches his overheated nostrils together, jams the pads of his fingers against his upper lip.
"HHH-HHHH-hooooo." Dean shakes his head. He twists away to the bedside table and tugs three tissues out of the box.
"Hey." Sam snatches them out of his grip. "Let me."
"Let you... really?"
"Please."
Dean raises both eyebrows. He eyes the Kleenex. "This is gudda be gross. You have to still love bee after."
"Dean. Man. It's just me. I would never-"
"'Cause I chaidged your dirty diapers, so I've got a thigg or two to say about gross."
"I promise." Sam holds the tissues up and waits.
"Like a friggidd' pettigg zoo," Dean mutters as he leans in. He nuzzles into Sam's palm, then shuts his eyes and gives 'er.
"Mhh," Sam sighs while Dean catches his breath. He folds the tissues over and presents them hopefully. "Again?"
Dean sips in an aborted, blocked breath and nods. He scans Sam's face. "You really love this."
"I wish you felt better." Sam beams. "But yeah."
Dean chuckles, then coughs. "You're a real paidd idd the ass, you doe that?" He turns around and hacks.
Sam frowns and cups his cheeks. "Hey. You're warm."
"Yeah, about that..." Dean shivers.
"What am I doing? I should be out getting you medicine."
"You shoulda seed your face whedd I sdeezed." He snuggles into Sam's warmth. "Like a kid at Christmas."
"I'm going to the drug store. What do you want?"
"Tyledol. We have subb. Dod't go."
Sam drops a hesitant hand to Dean's back. "Don't you want the cold stuff? It'll knock you out."
"You're havigg way too buch fudd." Dean tips up and kisses Sam on the jaw. "It's sorta hot."
Sam squeezes Dean until he squeaks.
s&d
Dean swallows the antipyretics Sam digs out of the first aid kit and two bottles of water from the vending machine, bundles up in the comforter, cuddles up to Sam and puts the movie back on.
"Guess I'b better," he says sheepishly when the end credits roll and he hasn't sneezed again.
"That's not how colds work." Sam drops a light kiss to his forehead. "They're harder to shake." He kisses Dean's eyebrow. "You're looking at twenty-four hours, minimum." His lips hover in until Dean's forced to close his eye, then he presses his lips gently to the lid. "If you're not careful, it could be weeks." He brushes his mouth to the bridge of Dean's nose. "But I won't let that happen." His lips find a warm nostril. "I'll take care of you."
Dean's nose twitches and his chest expands. "HAH... hh-hh-hhhhhhh."
Sam strokes the overheated skin with his fingertips. "Something wrong?"
"Hh-HIH..."
"Think how much better you'll feel. All that tension, gone. One big burst and then you're putty. Loose like jelly." He teases the rims of Dean's nostrils with his thumb.
"Ah-AGH..."
Sam flutters tissues to his nose and plants another loving kiss on it.
"HGH-AH-TSZHSHSHZDGHGHH!"
Sam squirms. "Good." Dean empties his nose into the tissue and watches him with watery eyes, transfixed. "How you doing?"
"Edjoyigg the show." Dean's cheeks are bright. He sits forward and shrugs off the blanket, then puts his hands on Sam's shoulders. "You like bide too, huh?" He presses Sam into the headboard and runs a finger along Sam's lips, then straddles him. Sam blushes and nips at his hand.
"Ah-ah. Daughty boy." Dean touches his own pink nose, so airily Sam can see light through the crack. "Daughty boys have to be puddished."
"Yeah." Sam grabs his ass and Dean smacks him off.
"Doe touchigg." He snuffles slurpily. "Hahh..."
Sam squirms. "Hhhmm."
Dean rubs Sam's chest and gives his hips one slow roll.
"Agghhhhh." Sam fists the sheets.
"Good. Good boys get to hold the tissue. Ih-hh..." He knuckles up under his nose and releases a hard breath. "Are you a good boy?"
"Yes. Yes I'm good. Oh God please yes."
Dean plucks out a tissue and the shushing noise is like foreplay. "Yes-hh... you-hhh... are." He tucks the Kleenex into Sam's sweaty palm and bites his chin. Sam groans and writhes up under him, hard enough Dean gasps.
"Easy, tiger." Dean goes very still, his eyes locked on the wall behind Sam. Then his gaze unfocuses, eyes crossing just a little. "HHHH..." Sam cuddles the tissue up to Dean's face. "Hhh-hh-HHHHHHH..." Dean pinches his nose and blows out air.
"Nghgh," Sam whines, and grinds his groin to Dean's again.
Dean's eyes roll back. "Agh. Wud bore squirb like that add-hhhhh... add I'b takigg away your-HHH..." Sam cups Dean's flaring nose and bright lips. "HH-HHHHHH... HADTXZSHSHSH-TZSCHOO! Hah-ADGGZHK! It-TISHSHSHSHSHH! IT-CHCHCHOOOOO!"
There's a moment of stunned silence as Dean pants into the Kleenex and Sam gapes. Then Sam rears up like a shark and flips him down into the ocean of sheets.
Dean doesn't get better for three more days.
Teddybears In Space
Prompt: How about a sneeze!kink fic where Dean is sick/sneezy, but *doesn't know* that Sam has a sneeze kink, and is too sick to figure it out even though Sam is acting really weird and cutely guilty about it?
s&d
Dean should probably be more surprised to be on the moon, but then he's always been good at taking things in stride. He floats in the chilly darkness and tries to do a zero-G back flip.
There's a swishing sound close by. He turns. He can just make out a tribble in front of him. He knows that tribble...
"Sab?"
Air hisses out of a tire. The tribble changes. Sam's face appears, scrunched up and bleary. "Mmmm?"
"Whaddya you doigg odd the bood?"
Sam sniffs, then blinks at him. A cool hand materializes and presses his cheek first, then his forehead. "You feel OK?"
"Cold."
Sam grunts and shifts closer, scoops Dean in against his chest. A giant palm trails down Dean's back and rests in the small. "That better?"
Dean wiggles up under his chin and sighs into the massive torso. His head is buzzing. "Sab."
"'S me."
He gasps, his nose tingling, oxygen rushing in. He pushes it back out. Everybody says you can't breathe on the moon.
"Hih... ih-KTZXXSH!"
His face explodes all over Sam. It hurts. He groans.
Sam groans too. Sam leaves him in a vacuum and then merges in warm and close with a big white shape that swallows Dean's face.
"Blow."
Dean knows it's going to hurt, so he doesn't, just snuffles and pulls away so he can breathe.
"Dean..." The tissue chases him and hugs his nose dry.
While Dean's batting it away he remembers this is not the moon. "Ugh. Hhh... HHHH-JJJSHSH! Eh-HEXXZCH!"
Sam sighs shakily. "Wow."
"Just because the isd't the bood," Dean says, "doesd't bead I'b dot right."
There's a pause. "Right about what?"
Dean hesitates. A palm cups his eyelids and then light floods through the fingers. It hurts his retinas.
"Dean?"
He squirms free, squeezes his eyes shut like salted leeches.
"That teddy bears have caberas idd their stubbachs."
Sam pushes himself up on one elbow and squints at him for a long moment. "I'm taking your temperature."
"Or was that idd by dreab?"
"I hope so, kiddo." Sam nuzzles a warm kiss to his forehead, then gets up from the bed and pads into the bathroom.
"Guh... IHHH-XHSHSHSH!"
"Uhrmh."
Dean lifts his head. "Sab?"
"Yeah. Nothing. I'm fine."
He feels like he's spinning.
Sam's on the edge of the bed, sitting over him, stroking through Dean's hair, a thumb petting his ear. "Hey. Hey. Dean."
"Yyyeah."
Sam huffs. "You passed out, man."
"HHH-huh... HHHH-TSHBLGHH! EKK-XXSHSHOOO! TZZHH! DZZSSHSHHSHT!"
When he opens his eyes Sam's gone very still. He's blushing, staring at Dean's mouth.
"Oww." Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yuck."
"No," Sam says quickly, "no, it's OK." He drags the Kleenex box onto the bed and tugs one out. Dean reaches for it but Sam doesn't let go, just caresses Dean's tender nostrils.
Dean sniffles self-consciously. "Good at that."
Sam's gaze plays over his features. "God. You're so beautiful."
Dean's face goes hot. He gathers up the blanket's edge and tries to throw it at Sam. He gets tangled up, and a head rush.
"Hey," Sam says. "OK. Sorry. Under your tongue. C'mon."
Dean takes the thermometer and rolls away, sucks on it, flushed and despondent. Sam tries to rub his back but he shimmies free.
With the instrument's beep, Dean sighs back into place.
"Good," Sam nods, reading it. He snorts. "Guess you're a lightweight with the cold pills."
"I'll light your... weight."
Sam clicks off the lamp and spoons in close to Dean. He puts the box of tissues in Dean's hands and sweeps an arm around his waist. "No funny stuff," Sam promises. He kisses the top of Dean's head. "Sleep."
"Hhh-ghh... hh-hh-HIH... TXZGTF! DZZCHSHSHHSHOOO-HOO!"
"Mmpf." Sam hugs him just a little tighter. "Bless you. I love you. Stop doing that."
"Puttigg caberas idd the teddy bears'..." Dean yawns. "Th' teddy..."
Sam soothes a soft circle into his belly.
Out Of Bounds
Prompt: Slash. Season 1, when they're crazily innocent compared to later on...and Sam with a sneeze!kink, because now I'm addicted. Dean is completely doped up on medicine and extremely vulnerable, with a massively sneezy cold. So, while Dean's sneezing all over the place (maybe accidentally sneezing all over Sam, too), Sam has to struggle to take care of him while at the same time wanting nothing more than to take complete advantage of him. Dean's not any help at all, because all he wants to do is snuggle and be close to his Sammy.
s&d
"IH-KRTSZSHSH!"
Sam clenches the steering wheel. "Dean."
Dean snuffles into Sam's lap and pulls his blanket tighter. "Uh?"
"...You want me to turn up the heater?"
"Gg. 'B fide. Got b'Sabby." He nuzzles Sam's thigh and pats his knee.
"Yeah..."
"Hhh... hhhh... hhHH-BFFF! HAH-DZZZZSHSH!" He rocks against Sam's hip, then sniffles wetly. "Fuh."
The car drifts dizzily in its lane. "Maybe that's not such..."
"ITCH-XXXSHSHHOO!"
"Hmh."
Dean coughs explosively and flounders for a tissue. Sam nudges him upright.
"Better, right?"
Dean wheezes in a few uninterrupted breaths. "Yeah. Good thigkigg." He produces a Kleenex from inside the comforter and burbles into it. "Cept there's dot edough Sabby over here."
"No," Sam says quickly as Dean starts to tilt down toward his groin, "no there's lots."
"Hhhh..."
"Dude, you..."
"Hh-HHH..."
"You've gotta stay over..."
"HAH-hhh..."
"Over..."
"HHHH-HADZSHGF-XKHOO! ETCHCHCH!"
"Gnnnh."
"Hey, a botel."
"Thank God."