mamapranayama (mamapranayama) wrote,
mamapranayama
mamapranayama

Itty-bitty comment fic fill: Dean Winchester: A.K.A. Larry the Lobster

Title: Dean Winchester: A.K.A., Larry the Lobster
Genre: Gen/humor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 450
For the spn_bigpretzel Endless Summer comment fic meme and tifaching's prompt: A day in the sun turns Sam's skin a lovely golden brown. Dean...not so much. Give me some cranky, sunburned Dean and mocking/caring/sympathetic Sam, please!

“Sam –"

Sam ignored the voice calling for him and rolled over to his side, quickly falling back into a blissful dream.

“Saaaaammm, Dammit. Wake up.”

Dean’s particular brand of whine echoed through the room and Sam knew that sleeping any further wasn’t going to be an option as long as his brother could help it.

Sam rolled until he was facing his brother’s bed, but hadn’t worked up enough energy to open his eyes yet. “What?” he mumbled, mostly into his pillow.

“You need to help me, man.”

Sam cracked one eye open. Dean was hovering over him with a miserable expression on his face. It wasn’t often that his brother asked for help with anything, but this time, Sam had an idea just what it was Dean was asking of him and he didn’t want any part of it.

“S’your own fault, ya know.” Sam muttered sleepily. “Shoulda used the stuff I gave you.”

“I did. But it didn’t work.”

“You have to reapply it after you get wet.”

“I was kinda busy, ya know. Chasing down a water sprite doesn’t exactly leave time for stopping and putting on more of that goop. Besides, I couldn’t reach my all of my back.”

Sam glanced at the clock. He sighed wearily. “It’s four in the morning.”

“Exactly. I need sleep too, but I can’t get any unless you help me.”

“Why don’t you just sleep on your side?”

“I’m a back sleeper, Dude. You know that.” Dean replied pitifully, making Sam feel a little shred of sympathy for him.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to win, Sam reluctantly gave in and sat up, but intentionally groaned to make his displeasure over being woken from a peaceful sleep plainly known. “Fine … where’s the stuff?” Sam asked, holding out his hand.

Dean handed him a bottle of green goo and then turned around, carefully peeling off his t-shirt and exposing his bright, red, sun-damaged back to his brother. Sam winced at the sight, empathizing with his sibling's pain. He had to admit that it was a pretty impressive sunburn and looked kinda like like the devil himself had poured molten lava down his back. Poor Dean had drawn the short-straw in the genetics lottery and ended up with far fairer skin than Sam and had always burned more easily. And where the younger hunter had come out of the hot, summer afternoon hunt at the lake looking like George Hamilton, Dean came back looking like Larry the Lobster.

Squeezing a healthy measure of the cool, aloe gel into his hand, Sam started rubbing in onto his brother's back, noting how hot his skin was to the touch.

“Oh yeah … that’s it. A little higher.” Dean moaned let loose a sigh of intense relief that bordered on orgasmic. “mmmm…”

“Dude … keep doing that and I’m never touching your back again.” Sam complained, more than a little weirded-out by the noises Dean was making. Sam vowed to himself to make sure that the sunscreen they had on hand from there on out was SPF 1000 and waterproof. He never wanted to hear that sound come from his brother again and certainly not because of anything he had done to him.

“Shut up and keep rubbing, bitch.”

The End
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