, because of moth wings
and tiny girls with big headphones. Around 950 words long. For crack!prompt wings
. Part of a larger set of crack!fic that includes saint and the dragon
and others. Unbeta'd.summary: Dean looked around the room, noticing how the previously relatively soft motel sheet now felt coarse as hell, how his boxers seemed about a hundred miles away, how Sam was trying really
really hard not to laugh.
It was heavy, and dark, and he had no clue where he was - which was freakish enough on its own, but when paired with the bizarre extra limbs he seems to have grown overnight - fucking what the hell? At least it was warm, even though he had no idea where his clothes went.
"Sam?" The sky lifted up, and Sam stood about a hundred feet above him, a half-shocked, half-laughing look in his eyes.
"Dean, you have wings," Sam managed a perfectly straight face, "and you're about five inches tall."
Dean looked around the room, noticing how the previously relatively soft motel sheet now felt coarse as hell, how his boxers seemed about a hundred miles away, how Sam was trying really really hard not to laugh. "Ha-fucking-ha."
"Clearly, the first order of business is figuring out what happened." Dean attempted to pace across Sam's chest, but he kept falling between the waves of fabric and Sam's own huge thudding laugh. Using a pillowcase as an improvised toga - "you look like Jesus!" Sam joked - didn't really help either, because it was way too fucking huge.
"No, the first order of business is getting you to look under vending machines for loose change. I want a pop!"
Dean jumped off Sam's chest and rolled down on to the soft bed. "No fucking way!" He tried scampering away but Sam stretched a little and caught him around the middle, ripped-up pseudo-toga falling off and Sam's hands warm against his body.
"Relax, relax," Sam whispered and it still sounded too loud, "we'll figure it out."
"We better." Dean said, and he sat down comfortably - bare against Sam's skin. Wings stretched out and fluttered, then settled in again neatly at his sides.
Sam grinned down at Dean - huge fucking bastard - and Dean sighed, let himself be picked up and deposited neatly in Sam's inside front pocket, where it was warm and relatively safe. He avoided the bits of paper and pens; found a relatively clean tissue he could settle into.
Sam paused. "Are you snuggling?"
"Shut up, I'm cold." Dean could feel the silent vibrations of Sam's laugh, so he burrowed further into Sam's jacket, curling his moth wings around himself while narrowly avoiding a rivet to the head.
"Don't worry, Dean - we'll stop at a Wal-Mart and you can get some Barbie clothes."
"Ken, you jerk." Dean punched him with tiny fists of fury.
The library proved a bust, and the librarians were all glaring at Sam because he wouldn't stop having apparently one-sided conversations with himself. Dean's wriggling around in his jacket didn't really help, either.
"You are such a girl." Dean laughed, and he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with lyrics on it. "'follow you into the dark'?" Sam sighed as Dean dove back into his pocket, and he had no idea what Dean might find because he hadn't really checked in there for a while. Dean's head popped out triumphantly and he waved around a little packet that was as big as his entire upper body. "Tingly lube?! Tingly!"
Sam scowled, said "it was a sample!" and groaned in half anticipation, half annoyance - and the librarian finally walked over.
"I'm sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to leave."
"What? No- I'll be quiet, I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, we've warned you three times already and you're disturbing our other patrons." She motioned towards a tiny girl who wasn't paying attention to them at all, if the size of her headphones were any indication.
"Alright, sorry, I'm sorry, I'll leave." The librarian looked satisfied and Sam shoved a book in his jacket - "oww, Sam!" - when she wasn't looking.
They were outside before Dean ineffectually elbowed Sam in the ribs. "Stealing from a library? Nice."
Sam might have blushed. "Shut up."
"You're totally going to return that before we leave, aren't you?"
"Think I can fly?" Dean waded through grass that was up to his shoulders, and Sam lay sprawled close by.
"Maybe. What does it feel like?" Sam plucked at the grass, closing his eyes against the sun above them.
"Like if I tried really hard, it would work." Dean concentrated and his wings fluttered intensely, he jumped up a little and hover for a moment.
"I could throw you into the air if that would help." Sam offered, looking around for dogs or cats or rabid squirrels.
"No, I think I'm good." Dean jumped high and coasted down gently, settling into the dip of Sam's collarbone.
Sam stood with his arms crossed, something definitely imposing despite the grin on his face.
"I can't let you sleep over there, you could get eaten by motel cockroaches! Or rats!"
Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam had to squint to make it out. "Fine, I'll sleep on the other pillow where no terrifying motel cockroaches-" Dean waggled his fingers, "- can get me."
"You know you were just going to sleep over here anyways." I can keep you safe if you're beside me. Sam patted down the pillow beside his head, left a little hollow in it where Dean could sleep.
"Definitely having too much fun with this." Dean stated, but he crawled into the hollow nonetheless. "Don't move," he said as quietly as he could, and he pressed his tiny mouth against Sam's lower lip.
Sam woke up when the heat of Dean's body draped all over his finally got to be too much. "gg-gerroff," he mumbled, but that just served to make Dean smile.
Dean shifted a little, rolled his hips against Sam's and buried his face in Sam's neck. "Shut up, I'm comfy."
Sam gave up when he felt an answering warmth; he wiggled his fingers to get some circulation back.