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Entry tags:
Blood Ties, 1/1, PG-13, Sam/Dean
Title: Blood Ties
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Implied)
Rating: PG-13
Words:~350
Spoilers/Warnings: References 6x10; bloodplay (sort of).
Disclaimer: They're not mine, unfortunately.
Summary:Your blood tastes different from demon blood.
A/N: I re-watched 6x10, and was struck (again) by just how disturbingly hot that scene was, with Sam biting into his own wrist. And then this popped into my head. I blame Jared for being insanely sexy, and the cold meds I've been taking for a week. Hope y'all enjoy it :)
You wash the wound off carefully, fingers lingering over the jagged edges. Beneath the thin skin your pulse beats, strong and steady, gaining speed when you think about the moment you broke the skin. The moment the thick, rich, metallic taste filled your mouth.
Your blood tastes different from demon blood. Not as heavy, not as dark. The darkness is there, a hint of something that shouldn't walk in the light, but it's not like drinking a demon. There's no flare of heat, no slam of badwrongnowyesmore that you always felt like a punch to the gut.
You miss it. Miss that punch, miss the spark that burst into flame inside you, gasoline igniting and burning through you.
Your reflection shows pupils blown wide, dark; you hold your own gaze when you lift your wrist to your mouth.
It doesn't take much to reopen the wound, to coax the heat into your mouth a drop at a time. It's not the same, but it still feels a lot like liquid sex sliding inside you.
A rustling behind you pulls your focus away. Dean's there, watching you, his entire body stiff, radiating disapproval. You grin at him in the mirror, teeth and lips smeared red. He narrows his eyes, stares at your mouth, and you wonder if he remembers the first time he kissed you, a lifetime ago. Your mouth was bloody then, too, if for different reasons.
"See something you like?"
Dean's eyes track from your mouth to your naked chest and back again. He makes a choked sound before turning away, neither confirming nor denying, but you know.
He likes what he sees and he hates himself for liking it.
Hates himself for wanting you, because you're not you.
You lick the thin line of blood twisting around your wrist, then reach for the bandages you set out earlier.
Doesn't matter, really. Sooner or later he'll come around. You're tied to each other in so many ways it's impossible to think either of you will ever be free. Blood's blood, after all, and it does mean something to you. To both of you.
~fin~
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Implied)
Rating: PG-13
Words:~350
Spoilers/Warnings: References 6x10; bloodplay (sort of).
Disclaimer: They're not mine, unfortunately.
Summary:Your blood tastes different from demon blood.
A/N: I re-watched 6x10, and was struck (again) by just how disturbingly hot that scene was, with Sam biting into his own wrist. And then this popped into my head. I blame Jared for being insanely sexy, and the cold meds I've been taking for a week. Hope y'all enjoy it :)
You wash the wound off carefully, fingers lingering over the jagged edges. Beneath the thin skin your pulse beats, strong and steady, gaining speed when you think about the moment you broke the skin. The moment the thick, rich, metallic taste filled your mouth.
Your blood tastes different from demon blood. Not as heavy, not as dark. The darkness is there, a hint of something that shouldn't walk in the light, but it's not like drinking a demon. There's no flare of heat, no slam of badwrongnowyesmore that you always felt like a punch to the gut.
You miss it. Miss that punch, miss the spark that burst into flame inside you, gasoline igniting and burning through you.
Your reflection shows pupils blown wide, dark; you hold your own gaze when you lift your wrist to your mouth.
It doesn't take much to reopen the wound, to coax the heat into your mouth a drop at a time. It's not the same, but it still feels a lot like liquid sex sliding inside you.
A rustling behind you pulls your focus away. Dean's there, watching you, his entire body stiff, radiating disapproval. You grin at him in the mirror, teeth and lips smeared red. He narrows his eyes, stares at your mouth, and you wonder if he remembers the first time he kissed you, a lifetime ago. Your mouth was bloody then, too, if for different reasons.
"See something you like?"
Dean's eyes track from your mouth to your naked chest and back again. He makes a choked sound before turning away, neither confirming nor denying, but you know.
He likes what he sees and he hates himself for liking it.
Hates himself for wanting you, because you're not you.
You lick the thin line of blood twisting around your wrist, then reach for the bandages you set out earlier.
Doesn't matter, really. Sooner or later he'll come around. You're tied to each other in so many ways it's impossible to think either of you will ever be free. Blood's blood, after all, and it does mean something to you. To both of you.
~fin~