you aren't the only one who likes a good trainwreck or two. sorry there's no porn:(
*** "Dude, Bret Michaels? Clearly possessed," Dean says, gesturing at the TV with his beer bottle. "Getting rid of a girl like that. Now, Mindy, I could understand, just whining like---but Beverly? C'mon."
Sam looks up from his computer, rolls his eyes and goes back to reading. "You saying you'd turn her down? Must be a first."
"I didn't say that, Sammy. A guy has needs and she's not bad to look at, but Bev's my kinda girl," Dean says. "Looks like she could get down and dirty, and then, y'know, get down and dirty."
"Kinda looks like Ruby," Sam says, eyes flicking over to the TV. He can hear Dean's growl from across the room and he ducks the pillow flying at his head expertly.
"Don't say shit like that, man. Beverly's a respectable girl. Ruby's... Ruby," Dean says. He turns the TV off with a jab of the remote and stands up, stretching. "Poison kinda sucked anyway. All spandex and no talent."
"So that wasn't you humming Every Rose Has Its Thorn yesterday?" Sam grins, deliberately not looking at the way Dean's shirt rides up with his arms over his head.
"Okay, first of all, a band can suck and still have a few decent songs," Dean says. "Deals with the devil and all that. Second, we were in a greenhouse and it was funny."
"Until that bush attacked you." Sam gets to his feet, doing his own little stretch and Dean does watch. He even licks his lower lip, and Sam takes a step toward him.
"Who grows evil roses? Now, poppies, sure, but roses?" Dean looks like he's about to start a world-class rant, another one, and Sam shakes his head, draping his arms over Dean's shoulders.
"Will you let it go if I promise to show you someone else willing to get down and dirty for you?" Sam asks, smile only slightly mocking when he echoes Dean's words.
"Depends on what you're offering," Dean says, his smirk surpassing any expression Sam could form.
"Anything you want," Sam says. "Anything."
Dean grins, lowering his eyes and looking up at Sam through his lashes. "There's an I Love Money marathon coming on in half an hour," he says. "And you're watching it with me."
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timeasmymeasure
Evils of VH1
Date: 2009-04-13 11:47 pm (UTC)***
"Dude, Bret Michaels? Clearly possessed," Dean says, gesturing at the TV with his beer bottle. "Getting rid of a girl like that. Now, Mindy, I could understand, just whining like---but Beverly? C'mon."
Sam looks up from his computer, rolls his eyes and goes back to reading. "You saying you'd turn her down? Must be a first."
"I didn't say that, Sammy. A guy has needs and she's not bad to look at, but Bev's my kinda girl," Dean says. "Looks like she could get down and dirty, and then, y'know, get down and dirty."
"Kinda looks like Ruby," Sam says, eyes flicking over to the TV. He can hear Dean's growl from across the room and he ducks the pillow flying at his head expertly.
"Don't say shit like that, man. Beverly's a respectable girl. Ruby's... Ruby," Dean says. He turns the TV off with a jab of the remote and stands up, stretching. "Poison kinda sucked anyway. All spandex and no talent."
"So that wasn't you humming Every Rose Has Its Thorn yesterday?" Sam grins, deliberately not looking at the way Dean's shirt rides up with his arms over his head.
"Okay, first of all, a band can suck and still have a few decent songs," Dean says. "Deals with the devil and all that. Second, we were in a greenhouse and it was funny."
"Until that bush attacked you." Sam gets to his feet, doing his own little stretch and Dean does watch. He even licks his lower lip, and Sam takes a step toward him.
"Who grows evil roses? Now, poppies, sure, but roses?" Dean looks like he's about to start a world-class rant, another one, and Sam shakes his head, draping his arms over Dean's shoulders.
"Will you let it go if I promise to show you someone else willing to get down and dirty for you?" Sam asks, smile only slightly mocking when he echoes Dean's words.
"Depends on what you're offering," Dean says, his smirk surpassing any expression Sam could form.
"Anything you want," Sam says. "Anything."
Dean grins, lowering his eyes and looking up at Sam through his lashes. "There's an I Love Money marathon coming on in half an hour," he says. "And you're watching it with me."
***