blue_soaring: (dean // CAKE)
[personal profile] blue_soaring
Oh, internets. I miss you.

Roomie's parental unit and aunt are visiting. And man, it's like having zombies in the house. Except not the thrilling (totally not saying fun here, because unlike SOME people whose name begins with S and ends with era, zombies are terrifying in that way that happens when you never have a flamethrower in your back pocket) kind of zombie that tries to eat you, but the one that just sits there and drools. A lot. So it's just gross and inconvenient.

Yup. That about sums it up. Gross and inconvenient.

I'm pretty busy these days, between work, running, set-stalking and night classes coming up, so I haven't been wallowing in fandom as much as I want. Which is honestly 24/7, but you know. Whatever. XD I also have this fear that fandom is slowing down, or something. Is it just me whose noticed the lack of recs and stuff? Or is it just my want is overwhelming the output? This is highly possible.

And I haven't really celebrated my birthday yet (waiting for the plague upon my house to lift tonight, TONIGHT, FINALLY), but I blasted through the flist Monday and saw all the wishes and THANK YOU. :D Cheered me right up. I said thanks to a couple people already, but because I'm me, I'm sure I missed someone, so again with the THANK YOU.

Which brings me to: It's my birthday~ and I'll post porn if I want to~ post porn if I want to~! Never mind that it's not my birthday anymore. I fully subscribe to the week-long celebrations thing. Dean has cake (thanks to [insanejournal.com profile] dragyn), he's happy. :D

...except this isn't really porn, per se. I've got some of that, but this is more of the evil-twin-asked-for-it-and-I'm-a-slave-to-her-desires kinda fic. Which is still insanely awesome, 'cause, y'know, graverobbing. And stuff.

Just say you love me and it'll all be okay.

Famous Last Words
Supernatural. Sam/Dean. NC-17. ~1500 words. Underage.
It's rare enough that he wants to tag along on a regular salt and burn that no way was Dean telling him no.


*

Famous Last Words


Richard Powers is still juicy.

Dean scratches the back of his head and listens to the leaves above them rustle in the night breeze, wishing he weren't six feet underground with sweat sticking his tee to his back and the rotting stink of dead guy nested in his nose. Could be his imagination, but Sam looks more pale than usual, even for a kid who prefers sticking his nose in a book to running around in the sun.

It's about half past midnight on a Tuesday, which means Sam's got class in the morning. But Sam's also as stubborn as a donkey, sometimes as much of an ass, and it's rare enough that he wants to tag along on a regular salt and burn that no way was Dean telling him no.

Well, he gave it a half-hearted shot. At the first hint of a flared nostril, he threw up his hands and said sure, why not.

"Hey."

Dean glances up, crowbar wedged into the top half of the casket. He's used to old wooden boxes, not this fancy hinged-cover shit. He figures he should just count himself lucky Richard was too cheap to spring for a concrete slab. Stealing a backhoe to toast the guy would've been a bitch.

"What?"

"Uh."

Dean yanks the crowbar free, thunks it down on the coffin and gives Sam a flat look. "Seriously, what? You gonna puke? 'Cause if you're gonna puke, man-"

"Shut up," Sam says. Then, in a rush, "Dude, those are D&G's, we should, uh, snag 'em."

"Which are what?"

Sam gestures vaguely at the guy's legs, looking even greener around the gills than before. If he weren't perched at the very edge of the half-open coffin where a sneeze would send him tumbling in, Dean would put money down on him squirming from the obvious embarrassment staining his face.

"The boots, Dean," Sam squeezes out. "They're designer. Six, seven hundred bucks easy."

Ignoring the fact that his lanky sixteen year old brother knows enough about fashion to recognise designer duds on a dead guy in the middle of a black hole in the ground, Dean thinks this is pretty sweet. Classic, even.

"You tellin' me you're up for a little graverobbing, Sam? Turnin' into a real juvenile delinquent, aren't ya."

Sam's lips thin, his cheeks flushing darker. "Eight hundred," he says.

Which is also pretty sweet. A bonus for a job well done. Couple new tires for the car and something other than worn-out tennis sneakers from the Salvation Army for Sam. "Grab 'em."

"What?"

"You want 'em," Dean says, "grab 'em. I gotta crack this sucker open."

"But-"

"What, you think they're your size?"

"Jesus, shut up," Sam mutters, scowling as he hunkers down and stares at the disembodied legs sprawled out on the white satin. "Money's money, right?"

"If we can get the stink out of 'em."

It takes Dean longer than it should to wrench open the top half of the coffin's lid because he keeps glancing down to see if Sam's really going to do it. Then, after Sam starts tugging at the laces and Richard's legs start flopping around boneless as beached fish, if he's going to puke after all.

"Gross."

"Shut up." Sam tosses one boot up onto the grass and gets started on the other, which follows with a dull thump a couple seconds later. "We can dump some of your cologne on them, that stinks worse than he does."

Dean waits until the coffin splits open with a creak and splinter of broken wood to stand, stretch lazily and say, "You want to light him up now that you're done with the striptease?"

Sam glares. "Gimme a leg up."

"Sure, Sammy." Casually, Dean kicks the guy's legs together so he's got a place to brace himself as Sam shuffles over, pointedly not looking down. Sam gropes for a handhold at the edge of the grave, one sneaker wedged into the damp earth, and waves a hand at him, impatient.

Instead of lacing his fingers together to give Sam a boost, Dean props a hand on either side of him and leans in close. "Figure the spook's gonna have it out for ya now?" Sam makes an annoyed noise as his foot skids down, slips on the coffin's edge. Dean presses closer, pushes him flush against the dirt wall, pins him there. Earth mixed with the smell of Sam's warm neck overwhelms the stink of decomp, a trickle of a fresh breeze sneaking in over the edge to ruffle Sam's hair against Dean's cheek. "Or since you're in the mood, how about adding s'more morally reprehensible acts to the list, huh?"

"Dean-"

"C'mon, can't blame me," Dean says, bringing a hand straight down to cup the front of Sam's stupid skater shorts. "You're the one stealing from the dead guy, ain't my fault I got a soft spot for freaks."

"You're the freak," Sam snaps, the low whine that follows completely ruining the effect. His hips buck, twist, because he's still young and goes off like a shot. Sure, Dean might rib him about that sometimes but truth is, it gets under Dean's skin like nothing else.

Just like how easy Sam really is gets Dean so fucking hot. He gets away with shit like this all the time, stuff he wouldn't even try on anybody else, even the parade of love-struck, moon-eyed girls that manage to find him in every town. Hardly two seconds in and he's got a handful of Sam's hard cock already. He bets himself twenty bucks that if he worms a hand inside Sam's clothes, he'll find the front of Sam's boxers nearly soaked right through.

But skin-to-skin always makes Sam blow it fast. And maybe, just maybe, Dean wants Sam to lose it in his shorts, wants to peel those come-tacky clothes off later, talking Sam straight through another embarrassed flush right back to horny.

"Gonna lose it for me?" Dean mouths at the delicate shell of Sam's ear, soft strands of hair sticking to his damp lips. "Richie don't care, he's dead, gonna be flambé in a few, and you don't give a shit either, huh, long as I get you off."

Dirt rains down into the open casket, rocks knocked free by Sam's scrabbling fingers thunking dully on the body. "C'mon, c'mon," Dean breathes, "look at you, humpin' my hand just like a kid, didn't think you'd last this long, Sammy."

Sam stiffens, lets out this long, ragged moan that has Dean's hips jerking against his ass, and then Dean can feel it, the throb and pulse of Sam's cock in his hand, the seeping warmth of Sam's load sinking into cotton.

Sam's dead weight almost sends both of them tumbling in with Richie Rich. "Up," Dean grunts a couple seconds later, way too soon for Sam to be with it, but they both manage to scramble out of the grave. Sam rolls flat on his back in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky, his chest heaving.

A few more seconds, then Sam's roughened voice, "You want me to suck your dick?"

Hearing that sort of thing come flying out of his little brother's mouth still socks Dean solidly in the gut. He sort of figures it always will and can't say he's sorry. He never claimed to be a real good guy and there's nowhere else he's going to get that heady, visceral thrill.

Still, he makes an exaggerated tut-tutting noise, on his knees beside the edge garnishing Richard with a few good handfuls of salt and an extra shot of gas. "Where'd you learn filth like that, Sammy?"

There's a rustle in the grass as Dean strikes the match, then the sweaty warmth of Sam pressed close to his back, wide, dirt-smudged palms on his thighs. The gas catches, flares bright and hot and blinding. For a moment, that's all there is, Sam and scorching heat.

"From you," Sam whispers, hushed by the roar of the fire. Dean's noticed before how even they're not immune to the way people automatically go quiet in the face of unchecked flames. "Pull it out and I'll show you."

Dean's mouth goes wet. Tongue thick, he says, "Do it for me."

The curve of Sam's smile against his neck is the only warning he gets before they're flattening the grass again, Sam's quick, insistent tug turned to a grinning scuffle. Dean's heart isn't in gaining the upper hand, not when he ends up with miles and miles of Sam wedged up tight between his spread legs.

"You gonna?" Dean wheezes, all the air squeezed out of his lungs by the slant of Sam's mouth. Wood crackles and pops, flames flaring brighter. The rising wind whips away smoke made sour by burnt flesh and bubbling varnish. "C'mon, Sammy, you-"

"Shut up," Sam says, grabbing for his wrists. One slow, easy roll of Dean's hips takes the bite out of Sam's voice like the fire sucks the oxygen out of the air. "You know I'm gonna."

*
End

Date: 2007-09-22 08:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] asieluniversity.insanejournal.com
Just say you love me and it'll all be okay.

I love you. Yes I do.

Also, your textile descriptions kill me. Every time. It's the fine details like that which I think makes or breaks a fic, and every time, I am reduced to incoherency. So much love.

And Sam knowing the price of expensive shoes *squirms* Excellent.

Date: 2007-09-22 10:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
Sam knowing about designer stuff was what actually started the whole thing. Well, okay, it was sort of a combined effort of me on my underage kick, Pond wanting gravedigging, and the CW's pimping of Sam and Dean's wardrobes. XD But hey, if this is the result, right?

Thankie so much! It felt a bit silly putting so much effort into description in a such a frivolous fic, but I couldn't help myself. Sorta like Dean, y'know. Heh.

Date: 2007-09-24 05:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] asieluniversity.insanejournal.com
Seriously. There is absolutely nothing wrong about any of that. At all.

*snort* Frivolous it may be, but it just wouldn't be Blue fic without it, I think. It may have felt silly, but the result was anything but. It's a definite part of your writing style that makes reading Blue fic so enjoyable. Keep up the good work!

Date: 2007-09-22 08:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] zoerayne.insanejournal.com
Mmm. Sexy, despite the juicy corpse; I have no idea how you do that. *g*

I kinda love Dean getting off on the dirtybadwrong of it all, too. Yeah.

Date: 2007-09-22 10:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
It's a talent? Besides, the dirtybadwrong is what I'm here for, it makes perfect sense that Dean would be all over it, too. Sure it does.

Thankie! :D

Date: 2007-09-22 09:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mitsuhachi.insanejournal.com
...I just read gay underage incestuous up-against-the-wall-of-a-grave graveyard porn. Gods I love the places I follow you to. Never stop. ♥

Also, the idea that bitty!sam recognized designer boots and knows what they cost cracks me up kind of a lot.

Date: 2007-09-22 10:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
When you say it like that, it seems so much worse than when I wrote it. XD And I know! Bitty!Sam is also a wellspring of obscure information, it's not his fault he happens to know things like the cost of designer boots or that they're even designer in the first place.

Next up: adult sex pollen or underage drug use, depending on how the wind blows.

...or, y'know, how Dean does. XD

Date: 2007-09-22 09:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iniq.insanejournal.com
>:3

Mrrrrowr.
+ graverobbing!Sam

Date: 2007-09-22 10:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
Innit, though? Just, mrowr. Which is what it looks like your icon is saying. :d

Date: 2007-09-22 10:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iniq.insanejournal.com
I just finished it earlier, so you're the first one to see it.
Technically, you're taking my icon's virginity... *waggles eyebrows*

So, how did Dean take Sam's? Or even better yet... how did Sam take Dean's? Was Sam Dean's first guy? Was his asscherry still intact before Sam came, or was it lost in a dirty ally to some guy named Bubba who was as tall as Sam, but didn't push him into the wall as good?

Date: 2007-09-22 10:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dragyn.insanejournal.com
Ohmygod, the things this fandom has me hot for..! YOU KNOW? :D:D I loved every awesome detail, from the hotass to the atmospheric.

And Dean should always have cake and pie and Sam. :D

Date: 2007-09-23 06:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
I KNOW. MAN, I KNOW.

Dean is all over cake and pie and Sam like lint on a cheap suit. :d

Date: 2007-09-23 03:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] novaberry.insanejournal.com
Holy cr--

I mean, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Also, HOLY CRAP, that was hot! Thank you!

I love that you're on this underage kick, love it A LOT. And okay, I may have made this account for the sole purpose of stalking you, but do not be afeared, I tend mostly to lurk.

I hope you have a fantabulous birthday weekend:)

Date: 2007-09-23 06:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
I've got at least one more in the wings that's underage, but the want is still going strong. I have no idea what it is about bitty!Sam that gets me, but big brother mackin' on bitty!Sam gets me even harder. Aha, badum-ching. XD

Did have a great weekend! :D ..can barely remember some parts of it, but I'm sure those were fantastic, too. XD

Date: 2007-09-23 06:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] santacarlagypsy.insanejournal.com
Um. I think I'm kinda crushing on you right now.... ♥

Date: 2007-09-23 06:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
Baby, you can crush on me all you want. I like the attention. XD

Glad you enjoyed my frivolous indulgence! :D

Date: 2007-09-23 07:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettyfreckles.insanejournal.com
i was there - right there lying on the ground. hearing their voices, smelling and tasting and feeling all the sweat and sticky all over.

your fics make me feel like part of a threesome.
how can you do that to me? and yes, i love you. i do i do i do.
blue is full of awesome pie. so go celebrate, already.

we missed you too.

love, sophie

Date: 2007-09-23 06:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
Mm, threesome. I keep wanting to write threesomeness with Sam and Dean, but Sam gets all possessive and Dean gets puppy eyes and it's just a mess. XD

Again, I felt sort of silly putting so much effort into descriptions in a fic like this, but it was fun anyways. Glad you enjoyed! :D

Date: 2007-09-23 06:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettyfreckles.insanejournal.com
nah... if you wrote a threesome, where would a poor silly fangirl insert herself in the subtext?

hmmm?? do what you do.

altho' if you did a threesome fic, no way it would be anything but mind-blowing.

so. suit yourself, honey & you'll suit everyone else just fine.

(blows kisses)

Date: 2007-09-23 02:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] makishef.insanejournal.com
You know, I never noticed it before, but I caught myself this time: I never bother to check the summary/warnings from you before I leap right in. I think I just automatically know I'll like it, so it doesn't matter. :D

So this? Hot and sick and funny and, you know, still hot. Yay!

I also have this fear that fandom is slowing down, or something. Is it just me whose noticed the lack of recs and stuff?

I think it'll pick back up once the next season starts. I think it's just hard for people not to eventually run out of ideas when they're waiting for new material, you know?

Date: 2007-09-23 06:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blue_soaring.insanejournal.com
:D I think this is an excellent way to operate: follow me everywhere, I'll give you the good stuff (little girl). XD But, graverobbing! Sam recognising designer fashions! How could you NOT find this the most hilarious and yet Winchester-esque thing ever? Right? Am I right?

The new season will probably bring lots more fics, I'm just spoiled because I came into fandom late and had this massive backlog to catch up on. And while I was catching up, people were writing more. So delicious. :d

Date: 2007-09-24 01:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] makishef.insanejournal.com
It IS so perfectly Winchester, which is, of course, what makes it hot and sick and funny and still hot. :D

And I was a little spoiled for a while, too, so I've been having withdrawal issues. This was recced at the crack_impala (http://crack_impala.livejournal.com) today, and it's totally ridiculous and fun and hot: Pretty in Pink (http://belyste.livejournal.com/8180.html) by belyste (http://belyste.livejournal.com)

Date: 2007-09-23 07:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] notthequiettype.insanejournal.com
guh guh guh guh. You nail them every single time, the voices and the banter and the hot. Awesome.

Date: 2007-09-23 11:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] priatticus.insanejournal.com
First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ♥

Bitty!Sam makes me very happy with his ridiculous designer knowledge. And I love how Dean gets off on the dirtywrong aspect as much as I do, haha. You can never go wrong with underage Winchesters.

Date: 2007-09-24 11:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amalthia.insanejournal.com
lovely story. :)

Date: 2007-09-26 08:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fleshdress.insanejournal.com
How is it that you can write ridiculously hot porn that involves - even tangentially - a ripe corpse? That is some kind of superpower, you know. ♥

Date: 2007-09-28 06:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] greenapple.myopenid.com (from insanejournal.com)
excellent.

Date: 2007-09-28 10:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] crazyjoyfulgirl.insanejournal.com
Your writing sort of inspires me to want to thank your fingertips for the joy they bring me. Because this? This is absolute dirty guh and thats like literally. Your Sam and Dean rule I swear. *draws hearts*

Date: 2007-09-29 02:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 0x.insanejournal.com
wheee!

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