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ht_murrayTitle: Collide
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
tru_faith_lost
Rating:NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warnings: There's blood, but it's not bloodplay, also painful penetration, but not noncon. Really long sentences.
Summary: A missing scene from my 2008 Bigbang fic, "Something Gold" because I totally skipped out on writing the porn for that one, but you don't have to read that to read this. This is PWP, and that's pretty much it. First time, Dean/Sam with angsty Dean and more experienced Sam. About 2000 words.
Disclaimer: I don't own them nor make any money for putting them on display.
A/N: The only things you need to know about the context of this fic is that Sam and Dean have kissed and engaged in mutual masturbation but haven't done the deed just yet, because Dean's angsting over it. Also, Sam's bi with some previous experience.
Collide
They were still gasping and swaying on their feet when they collapsed through the doorway into their apartment. Tongue bitten and breathing through flared nostrils, Sam tore off Dean's shirts, had to see where all the blood was coming from, then ripped off his own, because they were shredded and ragged, kept getting wrapped around his fingers as he searched every inch of Dean's bared skin for more telling wounds than the ones on his hands. Finding none, he pushed Dean down on bed, grabbed as many of his first aid supplies as he could reach, tossing them into the basin with more oomph than was necessary because actually throwing things would've been pointless.
"What the fuck was so important about that thing that it was worth losing your hands or getting struck by lightning?" Sam tossed three perfectly good but nearly threadbare towels to the floor, took out the thickest. He was still seething enough that he didn't feel the crack of his kneecaps on the concrete between Dean's feet when he fell at the side of the bed and wrapped both of Dean's hands, the towel turning red in a matter of seconds.
"Sam, I…" He coughed, catching his breath more slowly than Sam.
"Forget it. I don't want to hear it, Dean. I've heard it before. The big picture, saving people, blah, blah. You wanna save the world, and you don't give a shit about yourself. It's noble. You're a real fucking hero. Freedoooom." He tossed a gob of pink gauze into the plastic tub he kept on hand with all their first aid supplies in easy reach. The cuts were deep, a few nearly to the bone, but as far as he could tell, nothing but skin and muscle damage. He could fix that. This time. Dean hissed as Sam dabbed at the deepest one with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, and despite himself, Sam said, "Sorry."
Dean didn't argue, seemed focused on something distant. That far-off gaze Sam had come to hate just a little clouded Dean's eyes. Sam didn't have the energy to still the shaking in his hands and stay mad, too. He was tired, of waiting, of hoping, giving space and never making any headway. There just weren't words for how futile it all seemed just then.
The quivering internalized, a panicky, awkward tickle of afraid and hopeful trying to mesh wavelengths between them. The feedback whine wasn't audible, but was as impossible to overcome as trying to push two magnets together, north to north. Finally, finally, after all Sam's waiting and backing away, Dean had enough room to flip. Before Sam could start the next stitch, Dean's fingers curled around his wrist, his thumbs stroking along the backs of Sam's hands. "It's okay," he said.
Sam couldn't look up, so afraid he misunderstood.
It was a good thing brains were hard-wired for kissing in the dark.
Their mouths locked together, Dean leaning down, and Sam tilted up, his hands sliding over Dean's cheekbones and then back over the shells of his ears, into that too long hair. His mouth opened around a gasping breath, a diver coming up for air after the longest free dive of his life, and Dean was there to breathe into him, sloppy, wet kisses, starved and biting. Sam had been taller than Dean for years, had packed on pounds of muscle, but fueled by adrenaline and mutual urgency, Dean gripped him by the ribcage just under the armpits and hoisted him up until he slid himself over Dean's lap.
Slippery with blood and sweat, Sam heaved himself against Dean, rising on his haunches and curling himself around like a question mark, stomach against Dean's chest, arms wrapped around and tilting Dean's head back for Sam to plunder, gasping and writhing. His own cuts were yet unstitched or dressed, and blood oozed through his fingers, into Dean's hair and down the back of his shoulders. Clasping his opposite wrist, Sam slid his forearm down through the smears, mouth open around panting breaths as he pushed forward, laying Dean out on the cot beneath him, his back arched up around Sam's arm, belly undulating against the crotch of Sam's jeans.
"Ng-God!" Sam broke off the kiss with a shout, held onto Dean's lower lip a second longer, foreheads pressed together, catching their breath, then started the slide down, down, down.
Marks on jawbone, marks on throats, marks along the rise of corded tendons down Dean's neck into his collar bone, and more marks, deep purple bruises from clavicle to sternum, Sam staked his claim over every inch of Dean, hard flat slopes to soft rolling hills. Dean whimpered when Sam took a nipple between his lips, rolled around it with his tongue, then sucked hard, smoothed flat again before sliding over to the other. Back and forth, peak and smooth, tease and torment, hands fumbling between them with buttons, and zippers, and belts.
Sam was somewhere between pecs when his fingers finally succeeded in pushing Dean's jeans and boxers down out of the way. He licked a stripe up Dean's sternum, mmming with triumph, eyes peering up from under sweat-soaked bangs as Dean scrambled backward against his bunched pillow. Taking Dean's cock in hand, Sam slid down further, stopped to lick a path around and through the yawning navel, liking the way Dean's cock prodded under his chin as he took his good-natured time getting there, slow twists of his hand, thumb slick with precome.
Sam was unprepared for the way Dean's hands smacked down on his shoulders the second Sam's mouth finally, finally opened over Dean's cock, but the warning was unnecessary. Dean couldn't help the way his hips bucked up into Sam's mouth, but this wasn't Sam's first ball game, and he fielded the catch with just enough give of his jaw and lift of his head to keep from gagging, laughed at the way Dean's hands went from pushing away to scrambling up Sam's neck and into his hair, pulling him down to meet every thrust of Dean's hips. The laugh might've been too much, and Dean went still, tight all over, breath hissing in and out, but Sam wasn't about to let him finish early and head back down that Egyptian River. Deft fingers rolled Dean's balls between them, fondling for a second before delivering a quick pinch to the soft skin between them, just enough pain to pull him back from the edge.
Sam expected Dean to groan in frustration, but wasn't ready when Dean yanked him up by the armpits for the second time, and pressed him down into the mattress, Dean straddling him and attacking his mouth while kicking Sam's pants to the floor behind them. Sam let himself be kissed and undressed, liked knowing he could drive Dean to that degree of needy and frantic without having to survive a near-death situation to do it. He relished the way Dean devoured him, sloppy bites to the corners of his mouth and bruising fingers around his hamstrings, pulling Sam's legs up around Dean's hips while their cocks bumped together and veered away with each rolling crush of their torsos.
Dean started to moan between each crushing kiss, and it took his hands sliding down and pulling apart Sam's ass cheeks for Sam to realize he was asking, begging for permission, maybe absolution, both of which Sam was more than ready to grant.
"Y-yeah, yeah," he gasped, nodding hard enough to bump his forehead into Dean's nose, knowing full well Dean had never done this before, not caring if it hurt the first time, just as long as the first time would just happen already. "Do it."
Dean wasn't totally naïve, but whatever he found to use for lube, something from the first aid kit, wasn't right or not enough, and he didn't take enough time to stretch. It hurt, God, it hurt so much when Dean pushed in that first little bit, hurt even worse when he stopped, panic whitening his features as Sam grunted and scrunched up his face, tightened fingers in Dean's biceps. Through squinted eyes and ragged breaths, Sam read Dean's panic, reached out and pulled him back down, kissing him, slow, and deep and hard as he willed his muscles to relax and let them be together. Each tentative push from Dean elicited a sharp gasp and sent a twanging quiver through every nerve ending in Sam's body, but Sam had great big hands, and they cupped around Dean's face, kept him close and distracted in the kiss, wouldn't let him run. Not this time.
When Dean was encased to the hilt, Sam broke the kiss, tender brush of lips to the bridge of Dean's nose, then slid his arms down across Dean's back, dropped his head to Dean's shoulder and nodded, held on for dear life.
It'd been a long time, a hell of a long time for both of them, but they had history, care, maybe even love, and Dean was no animal. He was coiled, corded from jaw to hip with restraint, aquiver and glistening, drops of sweat beading off the end of his nose and slip-sliding down his chest, but he was careful. Somewhere between first penetration and first true thrust, the urgency had simmered down, thickened enough to let them savor every burn, every touch, every whimper and moan. It took awhile, long, slow minutes carefully worshipping slick skin and searing, intense need, before the pain gave way, inch by inch, to pleasure, and when it did, Sam opened his eyes, fist corkscrewing up and down his hardening cock, and watched Dean settle back on his haunches above him.
He couldn't help the moan of want that bubbled out of his throat as Dean reached forward and pressed his hands against Sam's flesh, petting and soothing his twitching belly, painting it red with blood, as Dean's hips circled, give and take, stroke and release, drawing the pleasure deeper and higher. Barely present, his eyes hooded and drooping, more white than dark visible beneath the lashes, Dean leaned back farther, braced his arms behind himself and set up a slow, steady rhythm, throat convulsing in time to the thrusts of his hips, jaw tight and cheeks bulging with each breath. Sam slid his hands behind his ass, up onto Dean's straining quads, clenched his fingers around the trembling muscles as he worked himself against Dean, tilting to get just the right angle so his breath hitched in his chest, made him arch and moan, wanton and desperate.
Quivering, and clearly on the brink, Dean sped up, grinding and rolling, breath raking in and out in a higher and higher key. Sam jerked himself feverishly, watching Dean down the end of his nose, and chewing his bottom lip. A few thrusts shy of climax, Dean opened his eyes, and Sam stopped tugging, tilted his chin up, inviting. Dean accepted, climbing up Sam's torso like a leopard and settling over him for a kiss. His hand curled over Sam's and urged him to keep going, fucking into his mouth in time with the roll and grind of their hips until neither could continue to breathe and kiss, mouths open but barely touching.
When Dean came, he heaved forward, curled his forehead into Sam's shoulder and drove through it, shallower and shallower thrusts until his body was just a heavy caress against Sam's, his lips soft and encouraging against the side of Sam's neck as their hands sped up. Sam came with a yell that Dean covered with his mouth and soothed with his tongue, slippery fingers interlocking between their bellies.
Sam's last coherent thought as exhaustion and satiety pushed him over the edge into darkness was, "About fucking time." That, and, they were so gonna need new sheets.
The End
A/N: I know. I’m as surprised as anyone that it turned out to be bottom!Sam. *shrugs* And now I'm really embarrassed because I've obviously done something majorly wrong, and I don't know what. But I've already crossposted all over, so I guess y'all are stuck seeing it floating around. Sorry. :/
Author:
tru_faith_lostRating:NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warnings: There's blood, but it's not bloodplay, also painful penetration, but not noncon. Really long sentences.
Summary: A missing scene from my 2008 Bigbang fic, "Something Gold" because I totally skipped out on writing the porn for that one, but you don't have to read that to read this. This is PWP, and that's pretty much it. First time, Dean/Sam with angsty Dean and more experienced Sam. About 2000 words.
Disclaimer: I don't own them nor make any money for putting them on display.
A/N: The only things you need to know about the context of this fic is that Sam and Dean have kissed and engaged in mutual masturbation but haven't done the deed just yet, because Dean's angsting over it. Also, Sam's bi with some previous experience.
They were still gasping and swaying on their feet when they collapsed through the doorway into their apartment. Tongue bitten and breathing through flared nostrils, Sam tore off Dean's shirts, had to see where all the blood was coming from, then ripped off his own, because they were shredded and ragged, kept getting wrapped around his fingers as he searched every inch of Dean's bared skin for more telling wounds than the ones on his hands. Finding none, he pushed Dean down on bed, grabbed as many of his first aid supplies as he could reach, tossing them into the basin with more oomph than was necessary because actually throwing things would've been pointless.
"What the fuck was so important about that thing that it was worth losing your hands or getting struck by lightning?" Sam tossed three perfectly good but nearly threadbare towels to the floor, took out the thickest. He was still seething enough that he didn't feel the crack of his kneecaps on the concrete between Dean's feet when he fell at the side of the bed and wrapped both of Dean's hands, the towel turning red in a matter of seconds.
"Sam, I…" He coughed, catching his breath more slowly than Sam.
"Forget it. I don't want to hear it, Dean. I've heard it before. The big picture, saving people, blah, blah. You wanna save the world, and you don't give a shit about yourself. It's noble. You're a real fucking hero. Freedoooom." He tossed a gob of pink gauze into the plastic tub he kept on hand with all their first aid supplies in easy reach. The cuts were deep, a few nearly to the bone, but as far as he could tell, nothing but skin and muscle damage. He could fix that. This time. Dean hissed as Sam dabbed at the deepest one with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, and despite himself, Sam said, "Sorry."
Dean didn't argue, seemed focused on something distant. That far-off gaze Sam had come to hate just a little clouded Dean's eyes. Sam didn't have the energy to still the shaking in his hands and stay mad, too. He was tired, of waiting, of hoping, giving space and never making any headway. There just weren't words for how futile it all seemed just then.
The quivering internalized, a panicky, awkward tickle of afraid and hopeful trying to mesh wavelengths between them. The feedback whine wasn't audible, but was as impossible to overcome as trying to push two magnets together, north to north. Finally, finally, after all Sam's waiting and backing away, Dean had enough room to flip. Before Sam could start the next stitch, Dean's fingers curled around his wrist, his thumbs stroking along the backs of Sam's hands. "It's okay," he said.
Sam couldn't look up, so afraid he misunderstood.
It was a good thing brains were hard-wired for kissing in the dark.
Their mouths locked together, Dean leaning down, and Sam tilted up, his hands sliding over Dean's cheekbones and then back over the shells of his ears, into that too long hair. His mouth opened around a gasping breath, a diver coming up for air after the longest free dive of his life, and Dean was there to breathe into him, sloppy, wet kisses, starved and biting. Sam had been taller than Dean for years, had packed on pounds of muscle, but fueled by adrenaline and mutual urgency, Dean gripped him by the ribcage just under the armpits and hoisted him up until he slid himself over Dean's lap.
Slippery with blood and sweat, Sam heaved himself against Dean, rising on his haunches and curling himself around like a question mark, stomach against Dean's chest, arms wrapped around and tilting Dean's head back for Sam to plunder, gasping and writhing. His own cuts were yet unstitched or dressed, and blood oozed through his fingers, into Dean's hair and down the back of his shoulders. Clasping his opposite wrist, Sam slid his forearm down through the smears, mouth open around panting breaths as he pushed forward, laying Dean out on the cot beneath him, his back arched up around Sam's arm, belly undulating against the crotch of Sam's jeans.
"Ng-God!" Sam broke off the kiss with a shout, held onto Dean's lower lip a second longer, foreheads pressed together, catching their breath, then started the slide down, down, down.
Marks on jawbone, marks on throats, marks along the rise of corded tendons down Dean's neck into his collar bone, and more marks, deep purple bruises from clavicle to sternum, Sam staked his claim over every inch of Dean, hard flat slopes to soft rolling hills. Dean whimpered when Sam took a nipple between his lips, rolled around it with his tongue, then sucked hard, smoothed flat again before sliding over to the other. Back and forth, peak and smooth, tease and torment, hands fumbling between them with buttons, and zippers, and belts.
Sam was somewhere between pecs when his fingers finally succeeded in pushing Dean's jeans and boxers down out of the way. He licked a stripe up Dean's sternum, mmming with triumph, eyes peering up from under sweat-soaked bangs as Dean scrambled backward against his bunched pillow. Taking Dean's cock in hand, Sam slid down further, stopped to lick a path around and through the yawning navel, liking the way Dean's cock prodded under his chin as he took his good-natured time getting there, slow twists of his hand, thumb slick with precome.
Sam was unprepared for the way Dean's hands smacked down on his shoulders the second Sam's mouth finally, finally opened over Dean's cock, but the warning was unnecessary. Dean couldn't help the way his hips bucked up into Sam's mouth, but this wasn't Sam's first ball game, and he fielded the catch with just enough give of his jaw and lift of his head to keep from gagging, laughed at the way Dean's hands went from pushing away to scrambling up Sam's neck and into his hair, pulling him down to meet every thrust of Dean's hips. The laugh might've been too much, and Dean went still, tight all over, breath hissing in and out, but Sam wasn't about to let him finish early and head back down that Egyptian River. Deft fingers rolled Dean's balls between them, fondling for a second before delivering a quick pinch to the soft skin between them, just enough pain to pull him back from the edge.
Sam expected Dean to groan in frustration, but wasn't ready when Dean yanked him up by the armpits for the second time, and pressed him down into the mattress, Dean straddling him and attacking his mouth while kicking Sam's pants to the floor behind them. Sam let himself be kissed and undressed, liked knowing he could drive Dean to that degree of needy and frantic without having to survive a near-death situation to do it. He relished the way Dean devoured him, sloppy bites to the corners of his mouth and bruising fingers around his hamstrings, pulling Sam's legs up around Dean's hips while their cocks bumped together and veered away with each rolling crush of their torsos.
Dean started to moan between each crushing kiss, and it took his hands sliding down and pulling apart Sam's ass cheeks for Sam to realize he was asking, begging for permission, maybe absolution, both of which Sam was more than ready to grant.
"Y-yeah, yeah," he gasped, nodding hard enough to bump his forehead into Dean's nose, knowing full well Dean had never done this before, not caring if it hurt the first time, just as long as the first time would just happen already. "Do it."
Dean wasn't totally naïve, but whatever he found to use for lube, something from the first aid kit, wasn't right or not enough, and he didn't take enough time to stretch. It hurt, God, it hurt so much when Dean pushed in that first little bit, hurt even worse when he stopped, panic whitening his features as Sam grunted and scrunched up his face, tightened fingers in Dean's biceps. Through squinted eyes and ragged breaths, Sam read Dean's panic, reached out and pulled him back down, kissing him, slow, and deep and hard as he willed his muscles to relax and let them be together. Each tentative push from Dean elicited a sharp gasp and sent a twanging quiver through every nerve ending in Sam's body, but Sam had great big hands, and they cupped around Dean's face, kept him close and distracted in the kiss, wouldn't let him run. Not this time.
When Dean was encased to the hilt, Sam broke the kiss, tender brush of lips to the bridge of Dean's nose, then slid his arms down across Dean's back, dropped his head to Dean's shoulder and nodded, held on for dear life.
It'd been a long time, a hell of a long time for both of them, but they had history, care, maybe even love, and Dean was no animal. He was coiled, corded from jaw to hip with restraint, aquiver and glistening, drops of sweat beading off the end of his nose and slip-sliding down his chest, but he was careful. Somewhere between first penetration and first true thrust, the urgency had simmered down, thickened enough to let them savor every burn, every touch, every whimper and moan. It took awhile, long, slow minutes carefully worshipping slick skin and searing, intense need, before the pain gave way, inch by inch, to pleasure, and when it did, Sam opened his eyes, fist corkscrewing up and down his hardening cock, and watched Dean settle back on his haunches above him.
He couldn't help the moan of want that bubbled out of his throat as Dean reached forward and pressed his hands against Sam's flesh, petting and soothing his twitching belly, painting it red with blood, as Dean's hips circled, give and take, stroke and release, drawing the pleasure deeper and higher. Barely present, his eyes hooded and drooping, more white than dark visible beneath the lashes, Dean leaned back farther, braced his arms behind himself and set up a slow, steady rhythm, throat convulsing in time to the thrusts of his hips, jaw tight and cheeks bulging with each breath. Sam slid his hands behind his ass, up onto Dean's straining quads, clenched his fingers around the trembling muscles as he worked himself against Dean, tilting to get just the right angle so his breath hitched in his chest, made him arch and moan, wanton and desperate.
Quivering, and clearly on the brink, Dean sped up, grinding and rolling, breath raking in and out in a higher and higher key. Sam jerked himself feverishly, watching Dean down the end of his nose, and chewing his bottom lip. A few thrusts shy of climax, Dean opened his eyes, and Sam stopped tugging, tilted his chin up, inviting. Dean accepted, climbing up Sam's torso like a leopard and settling over him for a kiss. His hand curled over Sam's and urged him to keep going, fucking into his mouth in time with the roll and grind of their hips until neither could continue to breathe and kiss, mouths open but barely touching.
When Dean came, he heaved forward, curled his forehead into Sam's shoulder and drove through it, shallower and shallower thrusts until his body was just a heavy caress against Sam's, his lips soft and encouraging against the side of Sam's neck as their hands sped up. Sam came with a yell that Dean covered with his mouth and soothed with his tongue, slippery fingers interlocking between their bellies.
Sam's last coherent thought as exhaustion and satiety pushed him over the edge into darkness was, "About fucking time." That, and, they were so gonna need new sheets.
The End
A/N: I know. I’m as surprised as anyone that it turned out to be bottom!Sam. *shrugs* And now I'm really embarrassed because I've obviously done something majorly wrong, and I don't know what. But I've already crossposted all over, so I guess y'all are stuck seeing it floating around. Sorry. :/
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no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 06:09 pm (UTC)That was awesome!
And hot and it totally blew me away.
Just wow!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 08:26 pm (UTC){{squishes}}
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Date: 2010-06-10 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 08:34 pm (UTC)p.s. I'm probably the only one in the fandom hasn't read Something Gold yet, I shall rectify that pronto. \o/
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:50 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 06:42 pm (UTC)Ooooh! This is very interesting. Thanks for sharing this tidbit with me from a writer's perspective. Sounds like you are faithful to what characters and/or situation dictates rather than bend them according to your will. Even though I'm very much a bottom!Dean person, I can't imagine how that scene could have been any other way than how you put it down. *g*
Also thanks for the heads up regarding "Something Gold". I didn't start watching Supernatural until the very end of 2008. Back then I didn't even know what BigBang is let alone finding all the awesome fics (also back then I was strictly gen reader!) Later on, that story came highly recommended to me (by
I downloaded all the chapters and converted them into a single PDF file. I'm going on vacation next week, and I most likely won't have access to LJ so I'm bringing it with me. :) In case you may have a need for the single PDF file (if you don't have one already), here's the download link (http://www.mediafire.com/file/tnmtokmynzy/Something Golden by Tru Faith Lost.pdf) (so you know there's a copy of your fic floating on the net).
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Date: 2010-06-07 10:43 pm (UTC)That whole section around “Dean was no animal” is just flat-out brilliant!
This is hot and gritty and sexy as hell! Bravo!
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Date: 2010-06-10 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 05:28 pm (UTC)BTW, I'm a copy editor, so I know more about tone and pacing than your average bear. *g*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 11:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 11:47 pm (UTC)in my book, you`ve done nothing wrong. I love the moment this turned from Dean being the obvious (and as always *yawns*) bottom to him taking control (what can be called control at least)
duhhhh.
I`d die,and kill for, to see something like this happen in show. But only like this, because the way you`ve wrote this scene, this is awesome!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:57 pm (UTC)I didn't even know you read Dean/Sam. *tackles you* It means so much that you liked it. I have a soft spot for bottom!Dean myself, but he just seemed so... charged in this scene (especially knowing the context of the scene that came before it) that I just couldn't get him to roll over. LOL. D'awww.
*smooshes*
PS I might have gone and bought another JA photo op. I was gonna buy JP this week, but I had to replace my Pacer with a Garmin. I guess I shouldn't wear it running in the rain. :P
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 02:39 am (UTC)If you've done something wrong with this, I sure as hell don't want you to ever do anything right!
I umm...yeah. *pants*
Scorching sex, written exceptionally well. Such a treasure when found.
♥
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 09:24 pm (UTC)Personally, I thought it did well as a stand-alone. However if anything it makes me want to read the original fic as well, so no discouragement here!
(I had saved this to memories, for future re-reading, but also to remind me to read the whole fic)
Actually while I'm thinking of this, when I read the whole fic where does this part fit in? I want to make sure to included it where it should go.
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Date: 2010-06-08 04:42 am (UTC)amazing. now i want to read the bigbang fic. a little treat for tomorrow because i really have to go to bed now. dang.
<3 thanks for writing this and sharing it with us. this was awesome.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 02:01 pm (UTC)And you don't have to read the bigbang, but if you really think you'd like to, I'd suggest saving it to your hard drive somewhere, because there's a chance I'm going to have to lock it soon.
Thank you again!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 02:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 09:45 am (UTC)LOVE IT!! And it brought back all my love for your fic at the same time. This little piece added to it beautifully!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 02:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 11:54 pm (UTC)I still have stories in a folder labeled BB 2008, BB 2009 and now BB 2010 that I still have to read and this is one of them. *hides face in shame*
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Date: 2010-06-10 02:06 pm (UTC)But out of curiosity, did you actually read what I posted here? LOL.
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Date: 2010-06-10 04:15 pm (UTC)I love having things to read. I figure if I ever have to be out of work for any period of time I'll have plenty of back up reading. If not I'll just slowly chip away at it.
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Date: 2010-06-09 02:35 am (UTC)Slippery with blood and sweat, Sam heaved himself against Dean, rising on his haunches and curling himself around like a question mark, stomach against Dean's chest, arms wrapped around and tilting Dean's head back for Sam to plunder, gasping and writhing. His own cuts were yet unstitched or dressed, and blood oozed through his fingers, into Dean's hair and down the back of his shoulders. Clasping his opposite wrist, Sam slid his forearm down through the smears, mouth open around panting breaths as he pushed forward, laying Dean out on the cot beneath him, his back arched up around Sam's arm, belly undulating against the crotch of Sam's jeans.
...you're really very good at writing sex scenes (and other descriptions as well) in such a way that it's easy to visualize, while at the same time not getting bogged down in the physical details. I find an awful lot of sex scenes (and to a lesser extent, fight scenes) either make me tilt my head quizzically at the screen, going, "Wait...weren't they just facing each other? How did he get that into there?" or alternatively, there's the "tab A into slot B" school of writing, that makes you go, "Yes, we know he stuck it in...could this possibly be less sexy?" And yeah, there's so much of what I'm talking about here floating around because it's really a difficult line to walk. You have to be specific about what's going on without making it sound too dry and clinical.
You always accomplish this beautifully. And I know from PWP, since it's all I seem to write anymore.
P.S. and totally off topic:
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Date: 2010-06-10 02:13 pm (UTC)Also, whee! So glad you liked my descriptions. It IS really hard to write sex without making it sound mechanical or getting into cliche territory. (It sometimes helps to go searching porn vids and find one that stands apart from the rest, i.e. the guys have to actually be into each other, and then try to analyze what makes that scene hotter than the rest. Yes, I just admitted I do the gay porn research and actually use it as research. LOL.)
Im actually pretty excited about summergen, though I think my idea may be a little ambitious. *bites nails* It doesn't matter if the minimum requirement is a thousand words when the story is begging to be 20,000 or more. Gah!
*glompses*
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Date: 2010-06-10 03:02 pm (UTC)I've been told most of my writing has pacing issues, due to all the details I stick in to make them more visual.
I disagree. I think it's more a matter of style. I mean, I do understand the concept, of course. When I was young, my grandfather had this huge collection of Zane Grey westerns in hardcover that I tried to read (because I'd read anything and everything) and I had the hardest time getting into them because the guy would spend a page and a half describing the sunset and I'd get bored. I eventually did get into reading them and they were excellent stories, but I had to stay after it.
But I don't get that from your writing, anyway, and putting that aside, there's a difference between writing a description of a sunset, or scenery which is more or less static, and writing sex and fight scenes, in which there's a lot going on and it's necessary to make sure the reader knows what body parts are where (geez, try to write a threesome or foursome without leaving someone out, huh?). And I guess I admire the way you write because my style is so the opposite--I think my writing is very spare and sometimes I worry that I don't put enough into it, that it's poor bare skeleton is showing through. But I've had people complement me on that, too, so... *shrugs*
Anyway, that's not what I was planning on saying, but I think I'd better open another comment box because I'm running out of characters. Ha! Comment spam! I haz it.
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Date: 2010-06-10 03:11 pm (UTC)Ha! No, it doesn't. I will say that a really long fic is a bit more trouble to submit to the com, but other than that...
Last year I got this amazing prompt: Dean spends the summer as a roadie for a rock band. I was so excited and I spent all this time researching roadies and touring bands--read Slash's autobiography and the Motley Crue tell-all, and tons of stuff online, watched videos--in general, had the time of my life, when normally I kinda hate research. All this while thinking that I had til the end of August to finish the fic. About the middle of July, I realized the deadline was actually August 1st, not September 1st, and I only had a little over two weeks to actually write the sucker, get it to beta and back, and edit. Had myself a little freak-out at that point, believe me, but I got it done and it wound up going about 27,000 words, still the longest fanfic I've ever written. But then, I think it's one of my best, too, so yeah...no worries. You've got this. :D
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Date: 2010-06-10 07:06 pm (UTC)A Something Gold missing scene can be nothing but made of win. This was terrific. Hot, yes, but underneath it all is the love and trust that make us love Sam and Dean so much. I hope that doesn't sound cheesy, because I'm trying to be sincere.
I LOVE this bit: but Sam wasn't about to let him finish early and head back down that Egyptian River. It's a clever spin on one of my favorite puns.
Thanks for this. It's great to revisit this universe, even if it's only for porn. Heh.
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Date: 2010-07-02 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-26 09:52 pm (UTC)The love and trust they both have for each other is so plan to see.
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Date: 2010-07-02 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-22 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 04:38 pm (UTC)And if not, I still enjoyed this immensely ♥