Entry tags:
roll away your stone; i'll roll away mine
Who: Dean and Meg
When: Day 129
Where: Their room
What: Just a little roommate bonding.
Warning: Things will get steamy; we'll go to a journal once things get too explicit.
He finds the whiskey first, then swings by the library. With the general lack of TV and movies around, he's been reading a lot; it's not like he's allergic to books, either. He likes Vonnegut; he read those Greek things. He could totally be here for something not romance novels, except he finds a bunch he hasn't read yet (he almost ran out back at the Cape), and he winds up with an armful.
Thankfully he makes it back home without running into anyone, but he doesn't want to cart his haul off to his room. He and Meg have a thing -- not that kind of thing, though they seem to have one of those too, but a thing where they share these novels, and Dean wouldn't mind sharing some of this sweet, real, actual, quality whiskey he found.
He balances what he's holding enough to grab two glasses, and then he approaches her bedroom door. He "knocks" with his foot.
"Get decent. Santa's here."
When: Day 129
Where: Their room
What: Just a little roommate bonding.
Warning: Things will get steamy; we'll go to a journal once things get too explicit.
He finds the whiskey first, then swings by the library. With the general lack of TV and movies around, he's been reading a lot; it's not like he's allergic to books, either. He likes Vonnegut; he read those Greek things. He could totally be here for something not romance novels, except he finds a bunch he hasn't read yet (he almost ran out back at the Cape), and he winds up with an armful.
Thankfully he makes it back home without running into anyone, but he doesn't want to cart his haul off to his room. He and Meg have a thing -- not that kind of thing, though they seem to have one of those too, but a thing where they share these novels, and Dean wouldn't mind sharing some of this sweet, real, actual, quality whiskey he found.
He balances what he's holding enough to grab two glasses, and then he approaches her bedroom door. He "knocks" with his foot.
"Get decent. Santa's here."
http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/onlinereads/Naughty-All-Night-chapter1.htm
"'Aww, nuts, I got handcuffs. I was hoping for one of those neon, glow-in-the-dark vibrators.' Off to a good start." He flashes Meg a smile and then keeps reading, and Dean's not just a boring reader; no, when he wants to get into it, he can, and so the two girls at the opening have different voices. He reads about Josie pining after her hot, straitlaced cop neighbor, who she fantasizes about giving her naughty patdowns and slapping cuffs on her.
"It didn’t matter. Because Mike Kincaid really was a cop, the epitome of authority figures. Plus, he wasn’t her type. And she wasn’t his. Mike was an old-fashioned guy, born and raised here in Pleasantville, Ohio. The poster child for the wholesomeness of small-town America. The kind of man who’d want Betty Crocker in the kitchen, and Mrs. Brady driving the kids to school in the minivan. Not a punked-out nail salon owner who changed her hair color monthly, had several piercings, and wore black engineer boots with filmy dresses. Not a slim 24-year-old who got carded when trying to buy beer because she looked like a teenager. Not someone like Josie Marino.
Besides which, Mike was too darn nice, too conservative, polite, and easygoing. Not the kind of wild, provocative man she’d always pictured herself with. Certainly not the kind of man she’d ever have expected to inspire instant, unrelenting desire.
Somehow, though, he’d done just that."
Dean stops, the enthusiasm slipping away a bit toward the end, and he looks over at Meg, one eyebrow arched. Are they out of luck with these books today or what?
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Cursed books. It's her excuse and she's sticking to it.
She sucks it up like a big girl. "So? What happens next? I need to find out if she ever gets her neon vibrator."
Meg slides down a little in her seat so her legs reach further onto the bed, she slides her toes up Dean's leg to rest her foot at his crotch. She can ignore the books and their mocking and taunting and wind Dean up instead, right?
no subject
And then there's Meg's foot in his lap, and he acts like he doesn't care about it as he keeps reading, only eventually he winds up tickling her. Are demons ticklish? He supposes he'll find out.
He keeps reading along, getting more into the rhythm of the story again, which means he's playing up the character voices again when he gets to the cop guy's thoughts on Josie.
"They’d gotten off to a bad start when they’d met, after he’d made the mistake of cracking a Josie and the Pussycats joke. It had been pretty unoriginal, but in his own defense, the woman had flustered him from the minute he’d laid eyes on her.
She was just so...different. Larger than life, though petite in stature. Sweetly innocent though saucy and outrageous. She had a comeback for everything, played a constant game of shock and evade. If he commented that he liked her hair color, she’d change it the next week. When he’d asked her if it had hurt to get her ear pierced so high, she’d driven him frigging nuts by saying it hadn’t been as painful as some other body parts she’d had pierced. The mental image of what other body parts she’d been talking about had been torturous. It seemed the friendlier and more polite he’d been toward her, the more she’d withdrawn. The more she’d pulled back, the more determined he’d been to get through to her.'"
Which means that driven him frigging nuts sounds completely natural in his voice, and he stumbles a little once he gets to the end of the passage.
"Did you write this? 'Fess up. If you wanted to write me a love letter, you didn't have to hide it in a book."
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"You got me. My secret's out. I just couldn't help myself, Dean. The words just flowed out of me. All my undying love. It couldn't be contained."
Does she look like the author of crappy novels? Does she look like Chuck? She rolls her eyes and gives her toes another wiggle.
no subject
"He was big. She’d seen that even when he was fully clothed. But she’d never quite imagined just how broad those shoulders were. Nor could she have pictured the perfect swirl of dark hair on his rippled chest. One of his thick arms was arched back to cushion his head, and the other was draped across his slim waist. She continued her visual survey, her gaze tripping down the taut layers of muscle on his stomach, and the narrow jut of his hips. When she finally worked up the nerve to look lower, she sucked in a deep breath and had to lean back against the door for support. 'Oh, my God.' The man definitely had every right to be cocky. He was, quite simply, magnificent."
All of Dean's storytelling voices are back, and he grins up at her with a wicked smile.
"At least you have good taste." His hand moves a little higher to squeeze her leg gently.
no subject
"Of course. My taste is impeccable. Only the finest for me. And for the record - Big cocks aren't everything. Sorry to burst Mister Oily and his creeper's bubble. But a huge dick does not guarantee mind-blowing sex."
Their relationship has really taken a turn. Discussing romance novels and sex without it being for the sole purpose of making Dean uncomfortable. Practically best friends, right?
want to throw in some passage of time to where at least dean's tipsyish
Yeah, Dean doesn't know what this hand of his is doing either, and he should probably be gently shutting down this whole scenario, but -- dude, he doesn't want to. And it's got nothing to do with Cas -- or, well, maybe it's easier if Dean believes that he and Cas aren't going to be a... he-and-Cas kind of arrangement because that's -- a whole level of -- commitment to a guy and he's not sure... Whatever, anyway, point is Meg and Cas are sweet on each other, and Meg and Dean have managed to... He doesn't think sweet's the word, but they're something. There's a unit forming here, and with Charlie missing and their lives extra topsy-turvy now, he'd like to have the comfort of that unit.
"But I agree. You gotta have finesse."
Yay tipsy Dean!
Meg makes no attempt to stop Dean's hand. The only time she stops it is to move enough to refill both their glasses, but she soon wiggles her foot back into place.
She listens to him read the next few chapters without making snarky comments. Must be some kind of miracle.
no subject
After a particularly titillating passage, he looks up at her, and he's amused, yeah, but there's a hint of genuine interest in there. Figures the one time he turns up maybe looking for her to mack on him a little bit, she's making it hard.
"How're you holding up over there? Need a break?"
no subject
She's a demon. Lying is a thing they do.
And boy is she flustered. If she were human she could blame it on the alcohol, but she has no excuse. "Just peachy. So over this sorry excuse for foreplay though. We should screw."
that promo for next week was nicely timed for this thread
The truth is, he'd miss her. She's been like a thorn in his side since he got here, but now he's gotten used to it and taking her away would hurt even more than her sticking around.
"Don't let anyone tell you you're not subtle." But he drains the rest of his drink and sets it aside, then thumbs at the pages of the book for a few seconds, playing like he's going to read it again. His eyes flick up at her and he tosses it over the side of the bed.
"Inside voices this time, promise."
It really was :D
As much as it pains Meg to admit it, she kinda likes this weird little family unit they've got going on. It's sickeningly nice.
"You sure that's a promise you can keep?" She gives him little chance to respond though as she gets up from her chair, crawls onto the bed and plants a kiss on his lips.
is it okay if we fade this here?
Sure thing <3
As for making things weird... Meg really doesn't understand the humans' obsession with monogamy. Sure, she was human. She wanted to be loved by a Prince Charming for life. But really, why settle for one when you can have more? If a girl can own a hundred pairs of shoes, why not love a hundred men? Not that she loves anyone... Shut up. It's complicated.