Supernatural Drabbles

by Nomelon

Disclaimer: all belongs to CW & Kripke. No money is being made, yadda yadda.
Written for: 100_ghosts, a livejournal Supernatural drabble community. Each drabble is 100 words exactly.

~~~

Title: Paper Thin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam/Dean
Spoilers: nope

Prompt 43: hearing

'What are you doing?'

Dean's whisper is harsh, his words breathy and warm over Sam's mouth; the tang of fear sharp between them.

'Sammy. Jesus. What--'

Paper thin walls. Scratchy sheets. Sleep sweat and warm skin. Passing cars providing their only light.

'He-- He's right next door.'

Mention of their father, and it's still not enough to stop Sam. They haven't touched for days. He's stretched thin. Going crazy. Needs this.

'You crazy, man? He'll hear.'

Scared now, when Dean's never scared, but he's trembling, arching into Sam's touch.

Sam presses his lips to Dean's. There's no more talking.

~~~

Title: Expensive Tastes
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Bela
Spoilers: s3, for Red Sky at Morning

Prompt 44: taste

Dean has her figured. Even buried inside her -- hot and slick, tuxedo crumpled, her dress ruined -- he's alert, keeping track of her clever hands, safeguarding the contents of his pockets. Even now he'd expected her barbs, her one-upmanship. He'd expected acid from her tongue, the taste of hairspray and lipstick in the back of his throat. Instead he gets strawberries and a hint of expensive champagne. She meets his gaze, not teasing now. She's enjoying this, losing herself, rising to meet him, taking what she wants from him.

They're good together, like this. That part he wasn't expecting.

~~~

Title: Blood
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Spoilers: s3, for Fresh Blood

Prompt 45: smell

It's the smell that throws him. Not the lacerated skin on his palms that knits back together within hours. Not the way the light hurts his eyes now. Not even the hunger gnawing at his belly. The smell. The smell of Dean's blood. The scent of family, of home. Sam's whole world.

Gordon's one last good thing. Blood on the wire. The gift that keeps on giving.

Sam crawls silently onto the mattress, nudges his nose against Dean's jaw while he sleeps. Sam lingers, inhaling deeply. Dean murmurs and sighs, frowns, lost in dreams. Fingertip to his pulse, Sam smiles.

~~~