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[For A Moment (Sam/Dean, R, 500 Words)]

Rolling up his sleeves, Sam grabs the plug for the drain and pushes it in. It’s one of those old-fashioned rubber ones on a chain and it makes Sam think about Jess. Their apartment in Palo Alto had one and Jess thought it was quaint.

He turns the water on as hot as he can stand it and squirts in the lemony-fresh dish soap, watching as bubbles start to form. He’s elbow-deep in suds with a dirty dish and a washrag when he hears shoes shuffling on the wooden floor just behind him. He tenses just for a moment.

“Dude, you’re doing the dishes in our house.”

Sam feels Dean walk up behind him, feels the heat of his body as he stands too close. “Yeah, I know, right? Kind of cool. You and Bobby almost done with the protection stuff?”

Arms encircle his waist, sweaty palms sliding up under his shirt to rest on his stomach. “Mmhmm,” Dean murmurs into his left ear.

“What do you have left?” He leans back into Dean, grips the cup he’s just picked up a little too hard. It slips out of his hand and ricochets off the side of the sink, splashing water onto Sam’s front.

“Just have to finish up a couple of traps in strategic locations.” Dean slips two fingers under the waistband of Sam’s jeans, slides the other hand up to the wet seeping through the thin cotton t-shirt.

“Oh?” Wet warmth tickles at Sam’s earlobe, sharp teeth biting down lightly, and Sam shifts against Dean. His ass is pressed firmly into Dean’s front.

Dean grunts, pushes his whole hand down Sam’s pants. “I saw you through the window.”

Sam frowns. “You saw me doing the dishes?”

“Mmm, yeah, I did.”

The firm press of Dean’s hand to Sam’s growing erection is slowly driving Sam mad. He bites his lip, sucks in a sharp breath. “Is that what this is about?” he asks, just a hint of desperation in his voice.

Panting into Sam’s ear, Dean grinds against him. “God, Sam, s’ridiculous. So ridiculous what you do to me. God damn dishes and I want to fuck you into next week.”

“Yesyesyes,” he whispers back. “Want you to.”

Someone clears their throat, and Dean jumps away from Sam. Sam turns around, eyes wide as he pulls his wet hands out of the dishwater and wipes them on his jeans. “Hey, Bobby.”

“Sam.” Bobby nods towards him, smiles. “Just looking for some more charcoal.”

“It’s in the shed, second shelf on the left,” Sam says.

“Okay,” he replies and leaves.

“He just… he just saw us.”

Sam fights to repress a smirk at Dean’s look of horror. “Dean, if you honestly thought Bobby didn’t have a clue already, you and I don’t know the same man.”

Dean looks at him aghast, crosses his arms and purses his lips. “Shit.”

“Really, I don’t think he cares,” Sam tries again.

“Jesus Christ, Sam, how can he not?”

Sam shrugs. “’Cause he’s Bobby.”


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 3rd, 2007 05:19 am (UTC)
Ahaha, because Bobby is just that awesome. :D
Nov. 4th, 2007 08:24 am (UTC)
hot and sweet, i liked it a lot. but DAMMIT.

that nightmare from the other ficlet LURKS in my mind. this verse could have been SWEET you know. now its all broody feeling.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )


by user nyaubaby
Four Tires, Four Walls

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