let's talk about...

[mickeym]

Well, Emeril wants to talk about spinach. I'm not in a spinach mood.

I am, however, tired hot and kind of cranky. I haven't done jack squat today at work -- either job-wise, or writing-wise -- and that's making me even crankier. I've wasted a whole day. Meh.

So, flist: what do you want to talk about? Gimme a topic. Ask me about an icon. Ask me about one of your icons. Comment porn. Ponder spinach, or eggs, or how the amount of laundry is directly INproportional to the size of the baby. Anything!

Who wants to play with me? *smiles hopefully*

Comments

[mickeym.livejournal.com]

Kraft Dinner... good in a pinch, but not as a steady diet. *g* I do like the spaghetti mix, though. The rest of it...I did my time as a starving student, thanks ;)

Three unrelated words: SamnDean (what? it totally counts!), outside, smooch. Yay, comment porn!

[twelve-pastels.livejournal.com]

It is so cold and dry that Dean can feel his lips chapping in record time. Normally, he'd just tough it out, but it's just so damn dry that they'll crack and bleed if he dosen't do something, so he's taken to carrying around one of those black tubes of chapstick around with him. If he's smearing something on his lips, it's gonna look at least vaguely manly.

The wind up here is just a complete bitch. Even with his jacket and his three freakin' layers of shirts, the wind still cuts straight through to the skin like a knife. But, hey, the top of Mount Royal has the best view of the city down to the waterfront, and you can't hunt the ghosts of murdered prostitutes when they're a part of the local tourist industry. As such, Sammy's been dragging him around to every single site that he can find in the entire city. In the cold.

Dean spares a moment for the smug, warming thought that his French is better than Sam's. Sam may have taken language courses at Stanford, but those were for Spanish. Dean had had to learn French out of self-defense, holed up in south-central Maine with a sprained wrist, Selkie bites, and a tiny little old woman whose first language was, patently, not English. You wanted to know what she was really saying about you, you had to know Acadian French.

(The selkie who bit him had later apologized, saying it was all a part of a terrible misunderstanding, and had given him a bottle of something distilled from blueberries and, possibly, seaweed. Shit had a hell of a kick. The guy himself wasn't bad, for a dude who pranced around in a sealskin.)

The wind picked up again, blasting directly in Dean's face, and he hunched his shoulders and shut his eyes, grimacing. A large, warm arm snaked around his waist and turned him slightly to the side, and Sam was pressed up against his back from shoulder to calf, acting as an impromptu windbreak. Dean stiffened momentarily, but nobody was really looking, except for the two girls who were poking each other in the ribs and grinning in their direction.

Dean wriggled an arm free of Sam's octopus grasp and dug in his pocket for the chapstick. He was in the middle of smearing it on his lips when he noticed Sam watching him avidly, his eyes dark and hungry looking, his tongue darting out to wet his own lips.

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

Sam made a low, purring noise deep in his chest and craned his neck around, tilting Dean's head so that they could press their lips together. Sam sucked Dean's lower lip in, running his tongue gently over it, and then lightly nipped the upper one before letting go with one more firm press of his mouth. "Nothing. I just kinda like the chapstick."

Dean, feeling considerably warmer, shifted slightly and let out a little rumble. "Just don't expect me to go around wearing lipstick or anything."

Sam laughed, puffs of warm air against Dean's skin where he'd buried his face in his neck. "Okay, but I wouldn't say no to the cherry lip balm."

Dean figured he could always peel the lable off.


\o/ Feel better now?

[mickeym.livejournal.com]

Oh. *happy sigh* That was lovely! Thank you :) It was a very nice thing to come home from work to (well, and I had a nap, and dinner, in there, but yes *g*).

I love the thought of Dean buying cherry-flavored lip balm, and peeling the label off, so no one thinks he's unmanly *g*

*hug* thanks!