What better way to celebrate Hump day then some brotherly humping?
That's right. There is no better way.
And with that in mind, I bring you....
by (the amazing) fleshflutter
Let me just begin by saying that this is one of the most fantastic Wincest fic's out there. It's just...ugh. In fact, when I'm done here, I'm going to go read it again.
In my opinion, it's so fantastic because it's got an air of realism (as far as you can have realism in wincesty Supernatural fic). Dean might start out reluctant after Sam's super booboo, but after the help of an entire creative cast of angels and demons, even he comes around to it.
"Hey, do you think this is infected?" Dean says and opens his towel.
Sam stares fixedly at the ugly red gash of claws on Dean's thigh, a souvenir from a battle a few days ago, and does not allow his gaze to wander.
"Uh… could be," he says in a strangled voice.
Dean frowns and fingers the flesh. "Hurts like a bitch."
"I'm interrupting," Castiel says.
Castiel is standing in the middle of the room where he wasn't just a second ago. Sam is not sure whether Castiel is more horrified to see Sam, or Sam is to be seen, on the bed with Dean apparently displaying his junk at him.
The only one who doesn't seem to be affected is Dean, who pulls a face at Castiel and reknots his towel. "See, that's another reason you guys should walk more, 'stead of pulling this appearing out of nowhere bullshit, it'd help you remember to knock. Not to mention, y'know, it's good for your heart. Or Jimmy's heart. Though I guess getting shot and me sticking a knife in his chest that time probably wasn't real good for his health, huh?"
Castiel is still frozen in horror.
"It’s not," Sam says to him. "We weren't. I wasn't. Oh god. Oh god."
Castiel edges towards the door. He shakes his head and holds up a hand to cut Sam off. "I apologize. I should have knocked. Clearly, with recent events, you need privacy. I will guard the door for you. Or, maybe, I can find one of those little signs for you to hang from the knocker. Yes. Do not disturb. I will make sure everyone knows you are not to be disturbed."
"Please don't do that," Sam says, but it’s too late, Castiel is already making his escape.
There's a perplexed expression on Dean's face as he watches Castiel go. Finally, he turns to Sam and Sam is all ready to launch into an explanation about how nothing at all happened in his meeting with Hell that would require them to need privacy.
But all Dean says is, "Did the angels switch to a new brand of crazy while I was gone?" before he pads back into the bathroom to towel dry his hair, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind.
Sam stares fixedly at the ugly red gash of claws on Dean's thigh, a souvenir from a battle a few days ago, and does not allow his gaze to wander.
"Uh… could be," he says in a strangled voice.
Dean frowns and fingers the flesh. "Hurts like a bitch."
"I'm interrupting," Castiel says.
Castiel is standing in the middle of the room where he wasn't just a second ago. Sam is not sure whether Castiel is more horrified to see Sam, or Sam is to be seen, on the bed with Dean apparently displaying his junk at him.
The only one who doesn't seem to be affected is Dean, who pulls a face at Castiel and reknots his towel. "See, that's another reason you guys should walk more, 'stead of pulling this appearing out of nowhere bullshit, it'd help you remember to knock. Not to mention, y'know, it's good for your heart. Or Jimmy's heart. Though I guess getting shot and me sticking a knife in his chest that time probably wasn't real good for his health, huh?"
Castiel is still frozen in horror.
"It’s not," Sam says to him. "We weren't. I wasn't. Oh god. Oh god."
Castiel edges towards the door. He shakes his head and holds up a hand to cut Sam off. "I apologize. I should have knocked. Clearly, with recent events, you need privacy. I will guard the door for you. Or, maybe, I can find one of those little signs for you to hang from the knocker. Yes. Do not disturb. I will make sure everyone knows you are not to be disturbed."
"Please don't do that," Sam says, but it’s too late, Castiel is already making his escape.
There's a perplexed expression on Dean's face as he watches Castiel go. Finally, he turns to Sam and Sam is all ready to launch into an explanation about how nothing at all happened in his meeting with Hell that would require them to need privacy.
But all Dean says is, "Did the angels switch to a new brand of crazy while I was gone?" before he pads back into the bathroom to towel dry his hair, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind.
And not only is it awesomely written, it has art too!
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