Archive for February 10th, 2008

Guilty Pleasure: Demons Made Me Spill My Guts Like a Girl

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Demons Made Me Spill My Guts Like a Girl by merrin.


This is a dark, dark fic, too dark, in fact, going all AU and impossible on me. Yet the writing was teriffic so I read the whole thing, shaking my head, not liking the premise, but liking the story and the result, if you see what I mean. So I get to this excerpt and I’m like, yeah. It’s like that.

“Damn it, Sam. I remember what it said, okay? I remember saying it. You’re doing this because you think I want it and I want you to stop. I don’t need this.”

But the thing is, Sam knows Dean, sometimes better than Dean knows himself. And even though some things have changed and there are secrets in Dean’s eyes he’s never seen before and can only guess at the truth of, he knows this. He knows that Dean wants it, even needs it as much as he does, and he plays the one card that always gets them what they both need.

“I do,” Sam says, and Dean’s resistance crumbles like Sam is the Big Bad Wolf and Dean is the house of straw and that’s how Sam finds out Dean kisses like he’s dying, or like he’s being reborn, like he’ll never need to breathe again. Dean’s hands are on his face and his mouth is open, pressed against Sam’s. He’s making the softest, neediest noises that Sam would be duty-bound to give him crap for if he wasn’t making the same noises himself and even if it’s nothing he ever thought of before, it’s everything he’s always wanted.

Right Up There: Make the Yueltide Gay

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Make the Yueltide Gay by nomelon


If anything is enough to turn me off a story, the title to this one is. Yeah, gay has been taken over as to mean something entirely different from when it was used as a lyric in a song. But, since this story was rec’d to me by a writer I respect (plutogirl10), I’m game. So I read it. Fell in love. You will too.  

An excerpt:

He looks Sam right in the eye as he makes the first swipe. Sam knows that look. It’s the one from when Dean’s playing pool and has given up any pretence of not being a total shark. It’s that moment where he lines up a shot then doesn’t even look when he takes it, preferring to look his opponent in the eyes and give him both barrels of the patented Dean Winchester cocky bastard grin of doom. Sam knows that Dean stole the move from watching Tom Cruise in The Color of Money, although wild horses couldn’t drag that admission out of Dean. He also knows how good Dean is at pool. That every shot he takes, he knows exactly where the balls are going to end up, that his showboating comes from endless misspent summer days during their formative years, and that Dean never, ever misses. So he just sits still and trusts his brother not to make him look like a lopsided idiot. Dean’s grin softens, and when he does the other side, he pays a little more attention.

Right Up There: Lament of Lost Souls

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Lament of Lost Souls by plutogirl10.

Slash (Sequel to Hunger of Old Mouths)

I loved Hunger of Old Mouths and I love this story too. It’s a big long fic, with plenty of development and sex that has purpose. Or at least sexual intent that has purpose. But it’s never dry or safe or easy. Where the sex pays the price and comes at a price and the connection between the two boys is more solid than before.

My favorite part is Dean holding Sam’s head under the water. Not that I liked him doing that but oh the TRUST there. And the sheer guts to DO it. On both their parts. And the fact that after, they come back together, just as they are (tough, not overly emotional), but changed.

I love this line:

“Anything you want or need, you should have,” Sam whispers carefully, mouth pressed to Dean’s temple and feeling the tension radiating off him in waves. “It goes both ways, Dean — I’m just as tangled up in you. You’re all I’ve ever known and taking that away won’t do anything but ruin me. It’s the only thing that could.”He tightens his fingers against Dean’s skull, gives him a rough kind of shake, then stands up and leaves the room before Dean has enough time to gather himself and kick his ass.

(Because…because…it’s about TIME someone should give their all for Dean, when he’s done it so many times…..and that whole giving thing. That’s love, Sam style.)

And this:

Dean has spent his entire life sweeping Sam aside, keeping him behind. One step further from even the vaguest of threats, and one step further also from Dean. Dean had stood guard, but had done it looking out at the world. He’d faced the darkness, and turned his back on the one thing that was his to nurture.Maybe not so different from their father after all, then.

(Which, is so true, it’s almost painful. It says a lot about John and his way of protecting. and now Dean finds himself doing the SAME thing.)

And THIS, which is perhaps the most profound and loving thing one person can say to another:

“I can see you,” Sam murmurs against his mouth, still trembling slightly. Dean doesn’t need to see Sam’s eyes to know what he means. He knows it has nothing to do with visiblity of flesh.“I know,” Dean says, without fear.

Guilty Pleasure: Little Black Book

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Little Black Book by jeyhawk.


I’m in the mood, so this guilty pleasure gets posted. It’s not a story, it’s a scene, where while Dean is in the hospital, Sam finds a little book Dean keeps to record all his sexual encounters. Not as tawdry as it sounds, because to Sam, reading the book is finding out more about Dean. While I don’t believe that Dean would keep a record like this (too anal for him), I like the thought of the mystery of Dean unfolding itself before Sam’s eyes. And the fact that, sometimes, Dean does it for money so he can take care of Sam. It’s a sad little treat, quite easy on the eyes.

An excerpt:

“Sam doesn’t know what it means, but he supposes that is all right because he lost track of what they are doing and where they are going a long time ago. As long as there is him and Dean, the Impala, and the soft, hard warmth between them, he knows they’ll be okay no matter where the twisting road of life will take them next. He slides over on his back, letting Dean curl around him with his head on Sam’s chest without calling him a girl even once. He knows Dean needs this, just as he knows that Dean would never ask for it, and that any ribbing would leave him with a shot of Dean’s back as he moved to the other bed.”