imonlyobsessed replied to your post: Fanfiction Work-In-Progress Guessing Game
(The humongous and ever growing Season 1 Wincest cisswap fic that I just canât seem to finish or stop writing despite it being a million different kinds of problematic)Â
That night they go out to a bar like theyâd planned. Itâs seedier than the one Sam had been in earlier, more people, filling the air with sounds of drunken loud conversation and the sharp click-clack of pool. The place itself is a perfumed mix of stale and fresh cigarette smoke, sweat, and something sour smelling that might be bleach.
Dean orders a couple drinks for both of them and Sam takes his slow at first but then speeds up, compelled to keep up with Dean.
The beer hits fast though. Sam hadnât taken into account that he was over a foot shorter and probably a good eighty pounds lighter than he was a week ago. But itâs a good buzz. He feels loose and warm and, strangely enough, really okay with everything. This body doesnât seem odd for long moments at a time: the cushion of the bar stool under his ass, the lightness of his limbs, the feeling of this softer skin under his fingers as he runs them over the back of his forearm absently. Itâs still strange, and as soon as he shifts his weight heâs back to momentarily feeling like heâs wearing someone elseâs slightly-too-small clothes. But he forgets off and on, and the fact that heâs been in a constant state of mild arousal for the last few days watching Dean doesnât seem like the worst thing. He presses himself down and shifts himself against stool just slightly, feels a throb of pleasure jolt through him, and enjoys it secretly for an instant.