Fic: Just For One Night for red_handed
Okay, so I went and joined an spn fic community (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
wincest_fic and spn_monthlyfic). This is my first go-around in writing any sort of fanfic, so I hope it's not terrible. Let me know what ya think!
x-posted atwincest_fic
Title: Just for One Night
Author:ladydeth12
Rating: um PG I guess
Warning(s): n/a
Spoilers: n/a
Word Count: 811
Challenge: Forred_handed. Women's underwear, Dean's leather jacket, ceiling mirror, "Dean, seriously,
this is the last time."
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. No profit is being made from this fanfiction.
Beta Acknowledgment: no betas. all mistakes are my own.
Summary: Dean finds them a place to stay for the night before starting a new case.
A/N: This is my first foray into spn fic. Actually, this is my first go-round writing any sort of fanfic. Hopefully it's not too OOC. I tried real hard not have that happen. I also don't think this is at all what you expected, but I hope you like it anyway.
wincest_fic and spn_monthlyfic). This is my first go-around in writing any sort of fanfic, so I hope it's not terrible. Let me know what ya think!x-posted at
wincest_ficTitle: Just for One Night
Author:
ladydeth12Rating: um PG I guess
Warning(s): n/a
Spoilers: n/a
Word Count: 811
Challenge: For
red_handed. Women's underwear, Dean's leather jacket, ceiling mirror, "Dean, seriously, this is the last time."
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. No profit is being made from this fanfiction.
Beta Acknowledgment: no betas. all mistakes are my own.
Summary: Dean finds them a place to stay for the night before starting a new case.
A/N: This is my first foray into spn fic. Actually, this is my first go-round writing any sort of fanfic. Hopefully it's not too OOC. I tried real hard not have that happen. I also don't think this is at all what you expected, but I hope you like it anyway.
Columbus, Nebraska
Dean climbed out of the driver’s seat and slammed the door on the Impala as Sam shuffled around the back seat finding the overnight bag they kept all the important stuff in. He pulled it from under the seat then he stumbled around the car and stood next to his brother.
Before them was a one floor ramshackle of a building. The brick façade appeared worn and some of the bricks had crumbled away and were scattered on the ground. The windows, upon further inspection, had cracks in the corners and some of them - if they weren’t missing curtains entirely, barely had window coverings. From what Sam could see, most rooms that did have them were either worn see-through thin or torn to shreds and were left to hang there.
“Dean…” Sam said as he dropped the khaki knapsack at his feet. His older brother stood next to him, hands on his hips with quite a large grin across his face. He didn’t show any sort of response to Sam’s demanding tone. Sam turned and stared at him in disgust before calling him one more time just a bit louder and with more frustration. “Dean!”
“Huh?” Dean said, coming back to himself.
“This is it?” Sam asked, his hands flailing in the direction of room 7. “This is where we’ll be staying?” He turned his head and glanced at the sign next to the road. ‘Great Towne Inn’ it said – or at least it should have said. Instead, there were missing letters and the sign now read ‘G_e__ T____ I_n’. Even the letters that were still attached to the sign were barely hanging on. Sam shook his head in disbelief.
“Well, yeah,” Dean answered. “Didn’t make any cash hustling that poker game over the weekend, so…” His head bounced left and right and the smile returned. Dean fished through his jacket pocket and pulled out a dull brass key attached to a blue broken plastic fob and started walking towards the door.
Sam let out a frustrated breath through his nose as he bent down and picked up the now dusty knapsack. He trailed behind his brother came to a rather abrupt halt as Dean slid the key into the lock and jangled the fob in his palm. The door clicked open loudly and he pushed it open. “Welcome home, Sammy!” he said as he stepped through the door. The smile on his face faded slightly, but he still managed to smirk as Sam followed through the entryway.
Sam stepped warily into the room and took a look around while Dean followed, throwing his leather jacket on a grungy-looking houndstooth chair. Sam noticed this was one of the few rooms that had a curtain covering the window that was neither torn, worn thin, or just plain didn’t exist. But that was the least of his concerns. The walls were painted a dark shade of brown. On one side of the room there were two double beds. One had a coin machine attached to it; the other did not. The comforters appeared to be recycled from another motel – they were swirled bright pink and blue. The blankets were definitely worn and appeared to have some stains on them from years of abuse. Sam’s nose wrinkled. “You know, Dean, this place is only missing one thing.”
Before Sam could complete his thought, Dean stifled a choking cough, brought his fist to his chest and discreetly pointed up.
“God, Dean! Really!” Sam stared up at the ceiling and saw himself staring down.
Dean chuckled a bit before saying anything. “Well, you know. Give yourself a show, I don’t care! Besides, we're only here for one night.”
Sam stared at his brother, mouth falling open. He stammered a bit and finally choked out, “No! What is wrong with you?” Dean just chuckled, sat down on the bed that didn’t have the coin machine and reached for the remote control.
“You know what? I’m just gonna go to bed now, and in the morning I’ll wake up and it will all have been a dream!” Sam saw that Dean just shrugged his indifference and turned to pull the comforter down. He ripped it away from the bed and something red flew across the room and landed on the floor after hitting the TV. “What the hell was that?”
Dean leaned forward from the end of the bed and looked at the small pile on the floor. “Well, Sammy,” he said turning his attention back to his younger brother and smiled. “It appears to be a thong. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”
Sam’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out. He stared at Dean for what seemed to be hours before he finally said, “Dean, seriously, this is the last time. I mean it! No more picking places to stay!"
Dean climbed out of the driver’s seat and slammed the door on the Impala as Sam shuffled around the back seat finding the overnight bag they kept all the important stuff in. He pulled it from under the seat then he stumbled around the car and stood next to his brother.
Before them was a one floor ramshackle of a building. The brick façade appeared worn and some of the bricks had crumbled away and were scattered on the ground. The windows, upon further inspection, had cracks in the corners and some of them - if they weren’t missing curtains entirely, barely had window coverings. From what Sam could see, most rooms that did have them were either worn see-through thin or torn to shreds and were left to hang there.
“Dean…” Sam said as he dropped the khaki knapsack at his feet. His older brother stood next to him, hands on his hips with quite a large grin across his face. He didn’t show any sort of response to Sam’s demanding tone. Sam turned and stared at him in disgust before calling him one more time just a bit louder and with more frustration. “Dean!”
“Huh?” Dean said, coming back to himself.
“This is it?” Sam asked, his hands flailing in the direction of room 7. “This is where we’ll be staying?” He turned his head and glanced at the sign next to the road. ‘Great Towne Inn’ it said – or at least it should have said. Instead, there were missing letters and the sign now read ‘G_e__ T____ I_n’. Even the letters that were still attached to the sign were barely hanging on. Sam shook his head in disbelief.
“Well, yeah,” Dean answered. “Didn’t make any cash hustling that poker game over the weekend, so…” His head bounced left and right and the smile returned. Dean fished through his jacket pocket and pulled out a dull brass key attached to a blue broken plastic fob and started walking towards the door.
Sam let out a frustrated breath through his nose as he bent down and picked up the now dusty knapsack. He trailed behind his brother came to a rather abrupt halt as Dean slid the key into the lock and jangled the fob in his palm. The door clicked open loudly and he pushed it open. “Welcome home, Sammy!” he said as he stepped through the door. The smile on his face faded slightly, but he still managed to smirk as Sam followed through the entryway.
Sam stepped warily into the room and took a look around while Dean followed, throwing his leather jacket on a grungy-looking houndstooth chair. Sam noticed this was one of the few rooms that had a curtain covering the window that was neither torn, worn thin, or just plain didn’t exist. But that was the least of his concerns. The walls were painted a dark shade of brown. On one side of the room there were two double beds. One had a coin machine attached to it; the other did not. The comforters appeared to be recycled from another motel – they were swirled bright pink and blue. The blankets were definitely worn and appeared to have some stains on them from years of abuse. Sam’s nose wrinkled. “You know, Dean, this place is only missing one thing.”
Before Sam could complete his thought, Dean stifled a choking cough, brought his fist to his chest and discreetly pointed up.
“God, Dean! Really!” Sam stared up at the ceiling and saw himself staring down.
Dean chuckled a bit before saying anything. “Well, you know. Give yourself a show, I don’t care! Besides, we're only here for one night.”
Sam stared at his brother, mouth falling open. He stammered a bit and finally choked out, “No! What is wrong with you?” Dean just chuckled, sat down on the bed that didn’t have the coin machine and reached for the remote control.
“You know what? I’m just gonna go to bed now, and in the morning I’ll wake up and it will all have been a dream!” Sam saw that Dean just shrugged his indifference and turned to pull the comforter down. He ripped it away from the bed and something red flew across the room and landed on the floor after hitting the TV. “What the hell was that?”
Dean leaned forward from the end of the bed and looked at the small pile on the floor. “Well, Sammy,” he said turning his attention back to his younger brother and smiled. “It appears to be a thong. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”
Sam’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out. He stared at Dean for what seemed to be hours before he finally said, “Dean, seriously, this is the last time. I mean it! No more picking places to stay!"
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