spn fic: Same Everytime - teenchesters
Sep. 25th, 2008 03:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityTitle: Same Everytime
Pairing: Sam/Dean (pre-standford)
Rating: PG-13
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bigfiction who wanted Dean cutting Sam's hair.
"Just be still."
"I don't trust you."
"Come on, moron. When have I ever hurt you?"
"You mean besides last week when you threw a coke at my face? Or the week before that when you tripped me on the stairs? Or last month when-"
"Technicalities, Sammy. Technicalities."
Dean grinned, flexing the silver blades between his thumb and finger. "Take off your shirt and sit down. Dad's going to be back soon and he's going to give me hell if your mop isn't at least trimmed."
"Fine." Sam said, clenching his jaw as he wrenched his graying t-shirt off over his head and plopped down in the wooden chair in front of Dean. "If you cut it too short I'll kick your ass."
"Language, Sammy." Dean chuckled, dipping the long-toothed comb in water before running it through Sam's hair. "How do you even see with it this long, Christ."
"Just do it," Sam grumbled under his breath, chin tucked against his chest, wincing when he felt the first few strands of hair dust across his shoulders. Dean ran the comb through Sam's hair again, dipping it in the water first, then Sam heard the distinct sound of more hair sliding between the scissors blades. A shiver ran down his spine and spread out across his arms as a sprinkle of hair tickled his neck and shoulders.
"Still." Dean reminded him firmly, concentrating on keeping Sam's hair even.
"What're you humming?" Sam asked a few minutes, bored with digging underneath his fingernails and blowing stray hairs out of his face.
"Dirty Deeds," Dean told him. "Learn the classics, dude. Seriously, its embarrassing."
"AC/DC right?" Sam asked, sticking his finger through the hole in his jeans.
"Good one. Now, name this tune." Dean grinned as he slid the comb through Sam's hair again, humming loud enough for Sam to hear.
"Uhh…that's uh, Blue Oyster Cult, right?"
"Yahtzee. Now, what song is it?" Snip. A curly lock fell on Sam's shoulder and Dean reached down instinctively, brushing it off with his fingers, watching as the goosebumps prickled across Sam's pale skin.
"Fire of Unknown Origin?"
"That's my man, Sammy!" Dean cheered, mussing Sam's wet hair with his fingers, shaking all the excess hairs loose. "Keep it up, you might be as awesome as me one day."
"Bite me," Sam snapped, but when he stood up he was shaking his head and grinning.
"Come 'ere," Dean said, motioning him over. "Got hair all over you." He grabbed Sam by the arm and turned him around, flicking dark hairs off of Sam's back and shoulders with his fingers. When the stubborn, smaller hairs at the nape of his neck wouldn't budge, Dean leaned in and blew lightly on his skin, scattering them in the air.
Sam tensed underneath Dean's hands. "Dean-"
The scissors clinked against the edge of the sink as Dean set them down, his chest flat against Sam's back as he pressed his lips to that same spot on Sam's neck, parting his mouth a little to taste the skin there.
"Dean."
Sam spun on his heels, twisting Dean's flannel shirt in his fist and pressed his mouth to Dean's. He licked at Dean's lips and Dean parted them only slightly, but it was enough for Sam to feel the heat of Dean's mouth and taste it on his tongue.
"Stop." Dean hissed suddenly through a gasp of air, his palm against Sam's chest, pushing him away.
"But-"
"Mean it, Sammy." Dean muttered, looking anywhere besides his brother's disappointed eyes as the deep rumble of John's truck told them he was coming up the street. "That was the last time."
"Sure. Whatever." Sam mumbled casually, grabbing his shirt off the table and slipping it back over his head before he went to his room and shut the door.
"How'd it go?" John asked when he came through the door.
Dean was sweeping up the last trimmings of Sammy's hair into the dust pan and shrugged. "Same way it goes every time."
Pairing: Sam/Dean (pre-standford)
Rating: PG-13
For
bigfiction who wanted Dean cutting Sam's hair. "Just be still."
"I don't trust you."
"Come on, moron. When have I ever hurt you?"
"You mean besides last week when you threw a coke at my face? Or the week before that when you tripped me on the stairs? Or last month when-"
"Technicalities, Sammy. Technicalities."
Dean grinned, flexing the silver blades between his thumb and finger. "Take off your shirt and sit down. Dad's going to be back soon and he's going to give me hell if your mop isn't at least trimmed."
"Fine." Sam said, clenching his jaw as he wrenched his graying t-shirt off over his head and plopped down in the wooden chair in front of Dean. "If you cut it too short I'll kick your ass."
"Language, Sammy." Dean chuckled, dipping the long-toothed comb in water before running it through Sam's hair. "How do you even see with it this long, Christ."
"Just do it," Sam grumbled under his breath, chin tucked against his chest, wincing when he felt the first few strands of hair dust across his shoulders. Dean ran the comb through Sam's hair again, dipping it in the water first, then Sam heard the distinct sound of more hair sliding between the scissors blades. A shiver ran down his spine and spread out across his arms as a sprinkle of hair tickled his neck and shoulders.
"Still." Dean reminded him firmly, concentrating on keeping Sam's hair even.
"What're you humming?" Sam asked a few minutes, bored with digging underneath his fingernails and blowing stray hairs out of his face.
"Dirty Deeds," Dean told him. "Learn the classics, dude. Seriously, its embarrassing."
"AC/DC right?" Sam asked, sticking his finger through the hole in his jeans.
"Good one. Now, name this tune." Dean grinned as he slid the comb through Sam's hair again, humming loud enough for Sam to hear.
"Uhh…that's uh, Blue Oyster Cult, right?"
"Yahtzee. Now, what song is it?" Snip. A curly lock fell on Sam's shoulder and Dean reached down instinctively, brushing it off with his fingers, watching as the goosebumps prickled across Sam's pale skin.
"Fire of Unknown Origin?"
"That's my man, Sammy!" Dean cheered, mussing Sam's wet hair with his fingers, shaking all the excess hairs loose. "Keep it up, you might be as awesome as me one day."
"Bite me," Sam snapped, but when he stood up he was shaking his head and grinning.
"Come 'ere," Dean said, motioning him over. "Got hair all over you." He grabbed Sam by the arm and turned him around, flicking dark hairs off of Sam's back and shoulders with his fingers. When the stubborn, smaller hairs at the nape of his neck wouldn't budge, Dean leaned in and blew lightly on his skin, scattering them in the air.
Sam tensed underneath Dean's hands. "Dean-"
The scissors clinked against the edge of the sink as Dean set them down, his chest flat against Sam's back as he pressed his lips to that same spot on Sam's neck, parting his mouth a little to taste the skin there.
"Dean."
Sam spun on his heels, twisting Dean's flannel shirt in his fist and pressed his mouth to Dean's. He licked at Dean's lips and Dean parted them only slightly, but it was enough for Sam to feel the heat of Dean's mouth and taste it on his tongue.
"Stop." Dean hissed suddenly through a gasp of air, his palm against Sam's chest, pushing him away.
"But-"
"Mean it, Sammy." Dean muttered, looking anywhere besides his brother's disappointed eyes as the deep rumble of John's truck told them he was coming up the street. "That was the last time."
"Sure. Whatever." Sam mumbled casually, grabbing his shirt off the table and slipping it back over his head before he went to his room and shut the door.
"How'd it go?" John asked when he came through the door.
Dean was sweeping up the last trimmings of Sammy's hair into the dust pan and shrugged. "Same way it goes every time."
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 11:24 pm (UTC)Hah! I love how that sounds dirtier than I meant it! \o/