Worth A Thousand Words by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
light_like for <user site="livejourna
Jun. 14th, 2012 04:42 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
springflingmod.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
spn_springflingTitle: Worth A Thousand Words
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Any warnings: none
Written bylight_like for atanih88!
If you ask Dean, cell phones are more trouble than they’re worth. You have to get a new one every 6 months if you want the latest model and you might as well be carrying around a laptop. They also probably track your every move for the government, or something suspicious like that.
And when all you want to do is send a simple picture of this grave stone to your brother back at the library so he can track down some info about this latest haunt? Well it's gotta fuck that all up too.
Dean looks at the display on his phone and refuses to believe this happened. His finger is still hovering over the send button and his stomach feels like it's at his feet. He racks his brain for absolutely anyway this can be undone but it can't. It's final. It's sent. His brother just received a text message from him, and the attached photo isn't of Mary Benson's grave stone. It's of Dean. Naked.
Dean doesn't make a habit of photographing himself nude. The last town they had stopped at was a nice place but it didn't have much in the way of bars. And Dean has needs. Craigslist is sketchy but he thought he'd put himself out there just in case any locals were in the mood for some casual fun while he was still around. And he had gotten an email from a cute little redhead who loved his picture. She said her roommate was out of town and she wouldn’t mind some company. But once Sam caught wind of this case they drove right over and he never had the pleasure of meeting her.
He forgot all about her within a few days and the photo never crossed his mind. He probably would have deleted it, he remembered to take it off Sam's laptop after he emailed it to himself, it just slipped his mind.
And now he'd never forget about it. Sam will never let him forget about this.
It wasn't the raunchiest or most provocative photo ever taken of Dean. He wasn't wearing pink panties or anything. He's just standing in front of the wide mirror in their bathroom. It was right after a shower; he thought it would be the ideal time. He was wet, the room was still warm from the hot water running, and he was pretty hard from some teasing touches in the shower. His little smirk topped it off all pretty nicely. Dean wouldn't say it was a bad picture.
And hell, it's not like Sam has never seen him naked. This is what Dean tells himself as he snaps his phone shut and starts to walk back to the car. He'd love to distract himself out here for a little longer and avoid Sam's comments or flat out mortification, but it looks like rain.
Once he's seated in the impala, Dean starts to wonder why he hasn't heard back from Sam. He expected a "gross!" or a comment about his dick being too small or maybe even Sam just telling him to stop fucking around and send the right picture. He pulls out his phone and checks again but there's nothing. He's gone from sort of horrified to pretty damn worried.
He doesn't go to the library to pick up Sam, as he promised earlier. He’d rather not face him now. Or ever again. And Sam has feet, he can walk. So he heads right back to the motel to wash away his shame in their shower. He doesn’t expect Sam back for a while.
He also doesn’t expect to see Sam when he swings open their motel door.
But there Sam is, sitting on the edge of his bed with his cell phone in one hand and his dick in the other.
Sam doesn’t notice Dean for a moment, his eyes totally fixated on the display. Although Sam isn’t naked, there is no hiding what he’s doing. His pants are pulled down past his hips and his clearly hard cock is pushing out against the fabric of his briefs where his hand is moving slowly against it.
Dean has walked in on Sam doing this more times than he’d like to admit. Not so much in the last few years, but definitely a lot when they were teenagers. He’s about to make a crack to ease the awkward, as he always does, and that’s when Sam’s sees him.
Sam has seen every kind of nasty creature you can imagine, but Dean’s never seen him look so spooked. He drops his phone on the bed beside him immediately. Dean thinks he was probably browsing porn, because phones are ridiculous and can do that now, but then he sees it. The picture obviously isn’t clear from where he’s standing, but he’d be able to identify his own naked body from a mile away.
The humiliation starts to creep back up on him, his cheeks feel all hot all of a sudden, and he wants to crawl in a hole. And the look on Sam’s face speaks the same message right back to him. Dean’s angry at cell phones and is getting ready to rant about how this is all Sam’s fault for making him get a smart phone – but then he successfully pieces all of this together and realizes why Sam looks so embarrassed as he watches Sam pull his jeans back over his hips.
Sam was touching himself while looking at Dean’s picture.
Disgust isn’t Dean’s immediate reaction to this revelation, although he supposes it’s supposed to be. He never had much in the way of real girlfriends or really anyone close to him but Sam, he explained away every straying thought he’d ever had about his brother. Told himself it happens to plenty of people but it was weird and he shouldn’t really let his mind approach the subject. Never in a millions years did he think maybe Sam had those kinds of thoughts about him. And now he didn’t know how to ignore this.
He didn’t really know how to do anything. He was still standing there, fucking blushing, and watching Sam from the doorway as Sam watched him.
“Sammy-” Dean says, because it’s all he remembers how to say at this point.
“Dean. I was just…” Sam’s voice fades out, like he already forgot his excuse, and he pushes his cell phone beneath the pillow it fell next to.
Dean thinks he can’t be mistaking what he saw, thinks maybe this could be a real good thing for the both of them. No more bars, no more random girls, no more craigslist. He takes a step toward Sam.
“Sammy.” He says in his sort of accusatory tone, that same smirk breaking out of his face.
Sam looks properly terrified, and maybe Dean is reading this all wrong. “Dean! Could you, could you go for a second?” he practically squeaks out, and Dean tries not to laugh.
“Go where?”
“Just up to the diner, get us dinner. I have some stuff to finish up here.” Sam looks around, obviously searching for the laptop or a piece of paper to look busy with.
And Dean can take a hint. He needs to clean the pipes and maybe he’d only just noticed Dean’s message then. He nods and shuts the door, relieving Sam of the embarrassment of explaining further. He’ll just explain it was an accident when he got back.
He sits in the car in the motel parking lot. He’s not really ready to go to the diner and face people just yet with all this stuff racing through his mind. He can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Sam hadn’t told him to go, hadn’t looked so freaked out by Dean’s not freaking out. Would he have touched Sam? Let Sam touch him? He thinks he might want that, might really like it.
No matter what Sam looked like coming home from soccer practice or out of the shower or smiling wide from the adrenaline rush after a satisfying hunt, Dean never let himself explore those thoughts that sometimes itched at the back of his mind in all these years. Now he wondered how long it would take to push them back out.
He’s thinking about what a massive mistake it was to let himself even consider the subject when his phone begins to buzz in his pocket, right next the mild erection he’s trying to will away.
He expects a food order from Sam but instead finds the text empty but for a photo attachment. When he opens and gets a good look at it, he knows his erection won’t be going anywhere soon.
It’s of Sam, which is obvious even though his face isn’t in the picture. But he recognizes the ugly coverlet and that’s Sam’s body. That’s the lower half of Sam’s chest, those are Sam’s impressive abs, and that’s the thin trail of hair on Sam’s stomach leading down to Sam’s dick. And that’s Sam’s dick, his very hard dick, in his huge fist.
He’s taken the photo laying down on the bed, his knees raised slightly and his jeans and briefs shimmied down his hips. The star of this photo is definitely his cock though, standing tall in all its glory from the thick mound of dark wiry hair below. The tip is wet with pre-come and such a deep pink, like Sam is right about to blow. His thumb is pressed underneath the head. Dean likes doing that to himself, too.
He’s still examining every inch of the photo, every detail of his brother’s cock, when he gets the second text message.
It just reads “So, we even? :)”
Dean knows this is like a peace offering, or Sam’s warped attempt at making things less awkward. Now they’ve both seen each other’s dicks in pictures today and can move past the weirdness! But Dean also sees the question lying beneath. And although he can’t help but doubt himself, he does know his brother. He knows him better than anyone in the world. He knows what Sam is really asking right now.
Dean yanks open his jeans, shoves them down and pulls his dick through the slit in his boxers. It’s not as big as Sam’s, not quite, but it’s still pretty great if you ask him and just as hard and thick as Sam’s.
He snaps a photo of it, and sends it in reply immediately. He still gets that moment where his stomach feels like it’s dropped out as he did the first time when it was an accident. But this time the anticipation isn’t a bad thing. This is the beginning of something good.
He texts back “Not even close, Sammy ;-)”.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Any warnings: none
Written by
light_like for atanih88!If you ask Dean, cell phones are more trouble than they’re worth. You have to get a new one every 6 months if you want the latest model and you might as well be carrying around a laptop. They also probably track your every move for the government, or something suspicious like that.
And when all you want to do is send a simple picture of this grave stone to your brother back at the library so he can track down some info about this latest haunt? Well it's gotta fuck that all up too.
Dean looks at the display on his phone and refuses to believe this happened. His finger is still hovering over the send button and his stomach feels like it's at his feet. He racks his brain for absolutely anyway this can be undone but it can't. It's final. It's sent. His brother just received a text message from him, and the attached photo isn't of Mary Benson's grave stone. It's of Dean. Naked.
Dean doesn't make a habit of photographing himself nude. The last town they had stopped at was a nice place but it didn't have much in the way of bars. And Dean has needs. Craigslist is sketchy but he thought he'd put himself out there just in case any locals were in the mood for some casual fun while he was still around. And he had gotten an email from a cute little redhead who loved his picture. She said her roommate was out of town and she wouldn’t mind some company. But once Sam caught wind of this case they drove right over and he never had the pleasure of meeting her.
He forgot all about her within a few days and the photo never crossed his mind. He probably would have deleted it, he remembered to take it off Sam's laptop after he emailed it to himself, it just slipped his mind.
And now he'd never forget about it. Sam will never let him forget about this.
It wasn't the raunchiest or most provocative photo ever taken of Dean. He wasn't wearing pink panties or anything. He's just standing in front of the wide mirror in their bathroom. It was right after a shower; he thought it would be the ideal time. He was wet, the room was still warm from the hot water running, and he was pretty hard from some teasing touches in the shower. His little smirk topped it off all pretty nicely. Dean wouldn't say it was a bad picture.
And hell, it's not like Sam has never seen him naked. This is what Dean tells himself as he snaps his phone shut and starts to walk back to the car. He'd love to distract himself out here for a little longer and avoid Sam's comments or flat out mortification, but it looks like rain.
Once he's seated in the impala, Dean starts to wonder why he hasn't heard back from Sam. He expected a "gross!" or a comment about his dick being too small or maybe even Sam just telling him to stop fucking around and send the right picture. He pulls out his phone and checks again but there's nothing. He's gone from sort of horrified to pretty damn worried.
He doesn't go to the library to pick up Sam, as he promised earlier. He’d rather not face him now. Or ever again. And Sam has feet, he can walk. So he heads right back to the motel to wash away his shame in their shower. He doesn’t expect Sam back for a while.
He also doesn’t expect to see Sam when he swings open their motel door.
But there Sam is, sitting on the edge of his bed with his cell phone in one hand and his dick in the other.
Sam doesn’t notice Dean for a moment, his eyes totally fixated on the display. Although Sam isn’t naked, there is no hiding what he’s doing. His pants are pulled down past his hips and his clearly hard cock is pushing out against the fabric of his briefs where his hand is moving slowly against it.
Dean has walked in on Sam doing this more times than he’d like to admit. Not so much in the last few years, but definitely a lot when they were teenagers. He’s about to make a crack to ease the awkward, as he always does, and that’s when Sam’s sees him.
Sam has seen every kind of nasty creature you can imagine, but Dean’s never seen him look so spooked. He drops his phone on the bed beside him immediately. Dean thinks he was probably browsing porn, because phones are ridiculous and can do that now, but then he sees it. The picture obviously isn’t clear from where he’s standing, but he’d be able to identify his own naked body from a mile away.
The humiliation starts to creep back up on him, his cheeks feel all hot all of a sudden, and he wants to crawl in a hole. And the look on Sam’s face speaks the same message right back to him. Dean’s angry at cell phones and is getting ready to rant about how this is all Sam’s fault for making him get a smart phone – but then he successfully pieces all of this together and realizes why Sam looks so embarrassed as he watches Sam pull his jeans back over his hips.
Sam was touching himself while looking at Dean’s picture.
Disgust isn’t Dean’s immediate reaction to this revelation, although he supposes it’s supposed to be. He never had much in the way of real girlfriends or really anyone close to him but Sam, he explained away every straying thought he’d ever had about his brother. Told himself it happens to plenty of people but it was weird and he shouldn’t really let his mind approach the subject. Never in a millions years did he think maybe Sam had those kinds of thoughts about him. And now he didn’t know how to ignore this.
He didn’t really know how to do anything. He was still standing there, fucking blushing, and watching Sam from the doorway as Sam watched him.
“Sammy-” Dean says, because it’s all he remembers how to say at this point.
“Dean. I was just…” Sam’s voice fades out, like he already forgot his excuse, and he pushes his cell phone beneath the pillow it fell next to.
Dean thinks he can’t be mistaking what he saw, thinks maybe this could be a real good thing for the both of them. No more bars, no more random girls, no more craigslist. He takes a step toward Sam.
“Sammy.” He says in his sort of accusatory tone, that same smirk breaking out of his face.
Sam looks properly terrified, and maybe Dean is reading this all wrong. “Dean! Could you, could you go for a second?” he practically squeaks out, and Dean tries not to laugh.
“Go where?”
“Just up to the diner, get us dinner. I have some stuff to finish up here.” Sam looks around, obviously searching for the laptop or a piece of paper to look busy with.
And Dean can take a hint. He needs to clean the pipes and maybe he’d only just noticed Dean’s message then. He nods and shuts the door, relieving Sam of the embarrassment of explaining further. He’ll just explain it was an accident when he got back.
He sits in the car in the motel parking lot. He’s not really ready to go to the diner and face people just yet with all this stuff racing through his mind. He can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Sam hadn’t told him to go, hadn’t looked so freaked out by Dean’s not freaking out. Would he have touched Sam? Let Sam touch him? He thinks he might want that, might really like it.
No matter what Sam looked like coming home from soccer practice or out of the shower or smiling wide from the adrenaline rush after a satisfying hunt, Dean never let himself explore those thoughts that sometimes itched at the back of his mind in all these years. Now he wondered how long it would take to push them back out.
He’s thinking about what a massive mistake it was to let himself even consider the subject when his phone begins to buzz in his pocket, right next the mild erection he’s trying to will away.
He expects a food order from Sam but instead finds the text empty but for a photo attachment. When he opens and gets a good look at it, he knows his erection won’t be going anywhere soon.
It’s of Sam, which is obvious even though his face isn’t in the picture. But he recognizes the ugly coverlet and that’s Sam’s body. That’s the lower half of Sam’s chest, those are Sam’s impressive abs, and that’s the thin trail of hair on Sam’s stomach leading down to Sam’s dick. And that’s Sam’s dick, his very hard dick, in his huge fist.
He’s taken the photo laying down on the bed, his knees raised slightly and his jeans and briefs shimmied down his hips. The star of this photo is definitely his cock though, standing tall in all its glory from the thick mound of dark wiry hair below. The tip is wet with pre-come and such a deep pink, like Sam is right about to blow. His thumb is pressed underneath the head. Dean likes doing that to himself, too.
He’s still examining every inch of the photo, every detail of his brother’s cock, when he gets the second text message.
It just reads “So, we even? :)”
Dean knows this is like a peace offering, or Sam’s warped attempt at making things less awkward. Now they’ve both seen each other’s dicks in pictures today and can move past the weirdness! But Dean also sees the question lying beneath. And although he can’t help but doubt himself, he does know his brother. He knows him better than anyone in the world. He knows what Sam is really asking right now.
Dean yanks open his jeans, shoves them down and pulls his dick through the slit in his boxers. It’s not as big as Sam’s, not quite, but it’s still pretty great if you ask him and just as hard and thick as Sam’s.
He snaps a photo of it, and sends it in reply immediately. He still gets that moment where his stomach feels like it’s dropped out as he did the first time when it was an accident. But this time the anticipation isn’t a bad thing. This is the beginning of something good.
He texts back “Not even close, Sammy ;-)”.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 03:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 04:56 pm (UTC)Thank you so much anon! <3<3<3 This was such a great, cheeky read! ♥
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:53 pm (UTC)That line just killed me. Laughed all the way through this. Funny, adorable, hot. Awesome work!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 06:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 01:04 pm (UTC)Now they’ve both seen each other’s dicks in pictures today and can move past the weirdness!
It sounds like they'll be having a lot of fun very soon!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-16 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-17 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-17 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-22 09:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-03 04:45 pm (UTC)