MEETS
Today's a very special post, because it combines two of our weekly features in one post. Now I must say, I don't really ship Wincest, so I'm way out of my comfort zone here, but I'll do my best.
What do the Winchesters do when they're both drunk? They watch porn, of course and discuss the many layers hidden underneath the all too simple story line. The depths of porn; what a topic it is, indeed.
Sounds like fun, right? Well, it appears to be, until a certain angel appears and Dean manages to tick him off.
But is he really pissed, or did the 'prude' remark spark something else to life inside of him?
Dean was drunk, but not so much that he was affected in any major way, and Sam was buzzing from too many drinks and all the laughter that had come after. Contrary to his usual reaction, he was even finding it amusing that Dean had whipped out his (well, the non-existent Anton Keppler’s) credit card and paid to watch the motel’s porn channel.
“See, there’s a deep layer of irony about this scenario,” Dean was saying, waving the remote in the air as he lay back on his bed. “That guy in the balaclava has just broken into that nice naked lady’s house to steal the family jewels, and yet, now he’s there, he’s decided to show her his own family jewels.”
“I’m sure the scriptwriter was keen on layering on the irony,” Sam pointed out with mock seriousness. “There’s bound to be a deeply hidden Brechtian subtext too.”
“Oh, there are deeply hidden things in this alright,” Dean said, frowning. He tilted his head to one side. “No wonder her eyes are crossing.”
Sam couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head to one side, too, and then winced as Dean turned the volume up. “Come on, man. There’s only so many times I can hear a woman say ‘Oh ja’ before it gets old.”
“You need to read between the lines, Sammy,” Dean returned gleefully. “I told you, there’s layers here. She may look like a hot German housewife and it may sound like she’s saying ‘Oh ja’, but really she’s an undercover cop pumping that guy for information about who his fence is. Once he leaves with his bag of swag, she’ll be all over his ass.”
Sam glanced at the screen. “Well, she’s certainly letting him get all over hers right now.”
Dean snorted. “Oh, ja. Oh, ja!”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
Both boys jumped to their feet, spinning to the door with reflexes only slightly compromised by what they’d imbibed that night. Castiel stood before them, his eyes fixed on the TV screen, a wry half-smile on his face.
“Dude,” Dean hissed. “If you’re gonna go bamf and pay us a visit, could you at least have the decency to call first?”
He lifted the remote and clicked off the sound. Sam knew that he could just have easily turned off the TV, but apparently it gave him a weird sense of amusement to leave pornographic images on display in front of an angel. Sam would’ve smacked him around the head if he’d been closer.
“See, there’s a deep layer of irony about this scenario,” Dean was saying, waving the remote in the air as he lay back on his bed. “That guy in the balaclava has just broken into that nice naked lady’s house to steal the family jewels, and yet, now he’s there, he’s decided to show her his own family jewels.”
“I’m sure the scriptwriter was keen on layering on the irony,” Sam pointed out with mock seriousness. “There’s bound to be a deeply hidden Brechtian subtext too.”
“Oh, there are deeply hidden things in this alright,” Dean said, frowning. He tilted his head to one side. “No wonder her eyes are crossing.”
Sam couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head to one side, too, and then winced as Dean turned the volume up. “Come on, man. There’s only so many times I can hear a woman say ‘Oh ja’ before it gets old.”
“You need to read between the lines, Sammy,” Dean returned gleefully. “I told you, there’s layers here. She may look like a hot German housewife and it may sound like she’s saying ‘Oh ja’, but really she’s an undercover cop pumping that guy for information about who his fence is. Once he leaves with his bag of swag, she’ll be all over his ass.”
Sam glanced at the screen. “Well, she’s certainly letting him get all over hers right now.”
Dean snorted. “Oh, ja. Oh, ja!”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
Both boys jumped to their feet, spinning to the door with reflexes only slightly compromised by what they’d imbibed that night. Castiel stood before them, his eyes fixed on the TV screen, a wry half-smile on his face.
“Dude,” Dean hissed. “If you’re gonna go bamf and pay us a visit, could you at least have the decency to call first?”
He lifted the remote and clicked off the sound. Sam knew that he could just have easily turned off the TV, but apparently it gave him a weird sense of amusement to leave pornographic images on display in front of an angel. Sam would’ve smacked him around the head if he’d been closer.
Shameless smut alert! And how we love it.
Go read this excellent one shot by Strangeness&Charm. She did an excellent job, although like me, she doesn't ship Wincest.
Much love and until next time.
Shirley Out.
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