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Title: Hammock
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Words: 720
Rating: Adult
Enticements/Warnings: adolescent sexuality
A/N: a belated birthday gift and also a fill for the type: gentle square on my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kissbingo card
Summary: It's very difficult to fool around in a hammock.
Dean has two duffles over his left shoulder, and is carrying four grocery bags and a gallon of milk, when he hears a scream from the back yard. He drops everything where he is and runs.
He nearly has to kill Sam when it turns out to be a scream of delight and not terror in response to something creeping out of the woods to eat him.
"A hammock, Dean! I've always wanted one."
"Dude. It's a hammock. You scared me to death. What the hell?" It's hard to keep a totally straight face when Sam--who has been sulking in the back of the car for the last nine hours (and let's face it, the last three years)—is grinning his face off, but Dean manages it.
"Big enough for two," Sam says, reaching out to tug at Dean's belt loop.
"Yeah. Let's make out in the hammock while Dad brings the rest of the shit in from the car. That sounds like a great plan."
Sam puts his sulky face back on, but it isn't very convincing.
They spend most of the next day making bullets in the little house's tiny kitchen, and the two days after that they're tracking down a grave, but finally Dad leaves them alone for an afternoon and evening.
The sound of the Impala's engine hasn't even faded before Sam's grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him out into the back yard.
"Seriously?" Dean grumbles. There's a perfectly good bed inside, and no mosquitoes. But Sam's ignoring him.
"Big enough for two," Sam reminds him, pulling the hammock open and climbing inside.
Dean can't say no to Sam when he looks this excited about something. Okay, or ever. Either way, he's climbing into the hammock with him before Sam's even completely settled. It rocks alarmingly.
"I'm pretty sure this is a terrible idea," Dean says, just because he wants it on record.
"It's a great idea." As soon as Dean's pulled the edge of the hammock up so he's not in immediate danger of flipping out onto the ground, Sam wriggles his arms around him and starts licking Dean's mouth.
"Mmmmf!" Dean says, but he's wrapping his own arms around Sam's back, trying to get his leg between his brother's without tipping them over. After a minute or so they coordinate so the hammock isn't rocking as wildly and Sam's stopped kissing like a puppy and started kissing like he means it.
Dean's ignoring the little knots digging into his arm in favor of concentrating on the feel of Sam's ass flexing under his hand, but then Sam tries to roll onto Dean and they swing crazily, the hammock's opening going from above them to where Dean's back needs to be. Sam screams just like he did when he saw the hammock in the first place, and Dean shouts, throwing an arm and a leg out in the hopes of catching himself. Instead he just gets tangled up when Sam throws his weight back in the other direction, nearly flipping them out the other way.
"Enough hammock," Dean says, pushing Sam off his chest carefully.
"Chicken," Sam says, but he's climbing out of the stringed death trap as he says it.
The lawn abutting the trees is thick and springy, and Sam's flopped down on it by the time Dean gets himself back on his feet. Still not as good as the bed in their room, but a huge improvement. Now when Sam rolls onto Dean he can get his hand in Dean's pants without the threat of either of them getting strangled or breaking a limb. And Dean can get Sam's pants open and kiss him at the same time.
They roll and rub and kiss until Sam's whimpering into Dean's neck and Dean's panting into Sam's hair and they're coming into each other's palms.
When they've gotten their breath back, Sam looks up at Dean and says, "Try again?"
"You're crazy, you know that, right?" Dean answers, but when Sam climbs back into the hammock, Dean joins him, letting Sam rest his head on Dean's chest and wrap his arm around Dean's waist. Dean rubs the back of Sam's neck with his thumb and drops gentle kisses in his hair. They both fall asleep, slowly rocking in the dappled sun.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Words: 720
Rating: Adult
Enticements/Warnings: adolescent sexuality
A/N: a belated birthday gift and also a fill for the type: gentle square on my
kissbingo cardSummary: It's very difficult to fool around in a hammock.
Dean has two duffles over his left shoulder, and is carrying four grocery bags and a gallon of milk, when he hears a scream from the back yard. He drops everything where he is and runs.
He nearly has to kill Sam when it turns out to be a scream of delight and not terror in response to something creeping out of the woods to eat him.
"A hammock, Dean! I've always wanted one."
"Dude. It's a hammock. You scared me to death. What the hell?" It's hard to keep a totally straight face when Sam--who has been sulking in the back of the car for the last nine hours (and let's face it, the last three years)—is grinning his face off, but Dean manages it.
"Big enough for two," Sam says, reaching out to tug at Dean's belt loop.
"Yeah. Let's make out in the hammock while Dad brings the rest of the shit in from the car. That sounds like a great plan."
Sam puts his sulky face back on, but it isn't very convincing.
They spend most of the next day making bullets in the little house's tiny kitchen, and the two days after that they're tracking down a grave, but finally Dad leaves them alone for an afternoon and evening.
The sound of the Impala's engine hasn't even faded before Sam's grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him out into the back yard.
"Seriously?" Dean grumbles. There's a perfectly good bed inside, and no mosquitoes. But Sam's ignoring him.
"Big enough for two," Sam reminds him, pulling the hammock open and climbing inside.
Dean can't say no to Sam when he looks this excited about something. Okay, or ever. Either way, he's climbing into the hammock with him before Sam's even completely settled. It rocks alarmingly.
"I'm pretty sure this is a terrible idea," Dean says, just because he wants it on record.
"It's a great idea." As soon as Dean's pulled the edge of the hammock up so he's not in immediate danger of flipping out onto the ground, Sam wriggles his arms around him and starts licking Dean's mouth.
"Mmmmf!" Dean says, but he's wrapping his own arms around Sam's back, trying to get his leg between his brother's without tipping them over. After a minute or so they coordinate so the hammock isn't rocking as wildly and Sam's stopped kissing like a puppy and started kissing like he means it.
Dean's ignoring the little knots digging into his arm in favor of concentrating on the feel of Sam's ass flexing under his hand, but then Sam tries to roll onto Dean and they swing crazily, the hammock's opening going from above them to where Dean's back needs to be. Sam screams just like he did when he saw the hammock in the first place, and Dean shouts, throwing an arm and a leg out in the hopes of catching himself. Instead he just gets tangled up when Sam throws his weight back in the other direction, nearly flipping them out the other way.
"Enough hammock," Dean says, pushing Sam off his chest carefully.
"Chicken," Sam says, but he's climbing out of the stringed death trap as he says it.
The lawn abutting the trees is thick and springy, and Sam's flopped down on it by the time Dean gets himself back on his feet. Still not as good as the bed in their room, but a huge improvement. Now when Sam rolls onto Dean he can get his hand in Dean's pants without the threat of either of them getting strangled or breaking a limb. And Dean can get Sam's pants open and kiss him at the same time.
They roll and rub and kiss until Sam's whimpering into Dean's neck and Dean's panting into Sam's hair and they're coming into each other's palms.
When they've gotten their breath back, Sam looks up at Dean and says, "Try again?"
"You're crazy, you know that, right?" Dean answers, but when Sam climbs back into the hammock, Dean joins him, letting Sam rest his head on Dean's chest and wrap his arm around Dean's waist. Dean rubs the back of Sam's neck with his thumb and drops gentle kisses in his hair. They both fall asleep, slowly rocking in the dappled sun.
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