Dean leaned his head back against the couch and let out a sigh as he fanned himself with his hand, not bothering to look over at his brother, “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Fix it!”
That made the blonde snort, “Yeah, let me just go outside and use my powers to make the sun go away.”
“I know you don’t have powers,” The annoyed voice from his left got him to look over – his brother’s bangs were stuck to his forehead because of how hard he was sweating, and he had the makings of a Bitch Face clouding his expression, “But you usually know what to do!”
“I’m nine!” Dean let out an incredulous chuckle, “Uncle Bobby’s already working on the air conditioner.” He craned his neck in an attempt to look out the window to the backyard, “We just gotta wait ’til he’s done.”
“Ugh!” Sammy flopped over sideways onto the couch, face smushing into the cushion, “He’s taking so looong!”
“Maybe it was really broken?”
That earned him another groan of annoyance, “It’s too hot!”
“We’re already on the first floor!” Dean stopped trying to locate the father figure and turned back to the living room, eyes sweeping across it uselessly, “It’s not like we can get any low-” His eyes stopped on the door to the basement door, huh.
“Jesus, it’s hot out there!” Sam slumped against the motel door as he entered the room, wiping sweat off his forehead with his free hand. He let his sweat-soaked jacket fall to the ground before taking a few steps into the room to place the grocery bag down on the small table, brows creasing with confusion, “I thought you said it was only 40 degrees?”
Dean nodded toward the news that was playing on the tv in the corner, barely bothering to look up from his magazine, “That’s what it told me.”
Sam turned to look at the info on the screen for himself. After a moment, he shook his head, “That says 40 Celsius, Dean.”
“What the hell is Celsius?”
Sam shook his head and made the short trip over to the freezer, grabbing an ice-pack, “It’s another temperature scale.” At the look, he raised an eyebrow, “You thought Fahrenheit was the only one?”
“Temperature’s temperature! If it’s hot, it’s hot, if it’s cold, it’s cold.” Dean’s nose crinkled and he held his hands up in mock surrender, magazine slipping into his lap, “Why would it be different here?”
The re-write of my second book, Melting Hearts, Sunburns and Tanlines is coming out soon, so I decided to contrast the long-form fiction of the book with this extremely short fiction challenge!
It’s also not a coincidence that there’s 10 weeks of summer left and 10 stories here. Feel free to read 1 a week to give yourself a micro-dose of summer antics – with a dark twist!
Or, read them all now and then end your summer by (re-) enjoying my second book!
Written: 26.06.18
NFF
1. What a scorcher! He kicked the door to his motel room closed as he wiped sweat off his face. At least I’ve got… his thoughts trailed off as the AC made a terrible crunching noise before bursting into flames.
2. “My ice cream tastes funny.”
The ice cream man leaned a little further out over his counter in, using his free hand to slide the cooler door closed, smile faltering slightly as it caught on the wrist of the dead body, “It’s just a new recipe, that’s all.”
3. “Somebody, anybody – help!”
The lifeguard checked his watch as he heard the commotion that was happening on the other side of the pool and shrugged, “I’ve still got 5 minutes of break left.”
4. She held her hand up over her mouth in an attempt to keep her laughter at bay as her husband walked in – he was was practically glowing, his skin was so red.
He noticed her face as he flopped down on the couch with a defeated frown, “I did forget the sunscreen.”
5. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked out in the new bikini, “I-I think I love you.”
That earned him a chuckle and she waved a dismissive hand as she turned to look at herself in the dressing room mirror, “Guess that means I’ll take it.”
6. The mom’s face lit up with a confused smile as her three-year-old came running back over to where she was sitting, “Where’s Daddy?”
The toddler presented a single flip-flop that was spattered with blood, before pointing out toward the water, “Swim.”
7. His eyes bulged out as he fell to his knees, weakly reaching out to grasp at her skirt with one hand while the other pounded itself into his chest.
She moved a few steps backward as she watched him choke and frowned at him with feigned confusion, “I thought you said you liked grapes with women?”
8. The toddler’s bottom lip poked out as he took in the expression on his mother’s face. He turned back to the freezer that held the family dog and shifted his weight – maybe Daddy was kidding when he talked about making a dog-sicle?
9. “Baby, I’m so sorry!” He rushed over to his girlfriend, boulder settling into his stomach as he watched her pick the broken bits of balloon off her now-soaked shirt.
She swatted his hands away as she took a few steps over to the bucket of water balloons that was sitting on the lawn, unable to keep the smirk off her face as she sent a wink to his friends, “It’s okay, Baby – I’m not mad.”
10. He trudged through the door, shaking his head in defeat – sighing as sand fell from it. He made it inside and let out a deflating sigh as he tossed the un-used knife onto the side table, I’ll try again next year.
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“Whoa!” Dean quickly tossed the wrench in his hand at the floor, barely catching the tail-end of his daughter’s dress as she bolted toward the front door, “Where’s the fire?”
Taylor blew out an annoyed breath as she pointed her thumb over her shoulder, “The ice cream truck!”
“What about it?” Dean blinked at her absently as his brain played catch-up. After a minute – in which, his daughter tilted her head to the side and squinted her eyes, doing a damn good impression of Cas’ confused face – his ears finally picked up the jingle playing just beyond his door, “Oh, r-right. Sorry, Sweetheart.”
He dug his free hand into his pocket, before handing her a bill and nodding, “Stay on the block.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Her overtly-sweet tone made him laugh as she raced out the front door. Dean shook his head and moved so he could see her and the gang of other kids out the living room window. He caught the eye of one of his neighbours who nodded to him. Dean raised his hand in silent appreciation before he turned back to the couch he was supposed to be fixing.
All Cas had not-asked him to do was tighten the foot rest, yet here he was, surrounded by miscellaneous couch parts, his toolbox and definitely more screws than what he remembered taking out of the thing.
One could argue it was not, in fact, going well. Especially since it was already – Dean flicked his eyes up to the clock on the wall – 6pm, shit.So much for surprising him.
Dean blew out a breath as he looked around the mess, Cas’ll have a field day if he gets home from work and sees this.
“Okay, new plan!” Dean clapped his hands and nodded to himself, put everything back as fast as possible and hope he hits traffic.
Just as Dean got back down onto his knees, the front door burst open.
Sam huffed and shifted his weight on the lumpy motel bed, “Do you get some sort of sick enjoyment out of waking me up with your stupid shit?”
At the lack of answer, the giant huffed and rolled over, not bothering to open his eyes – not that he was fully asleep yet, anyway, “It’s happened way too many times now to simply be a coincidence.”
Another moment of silence passed, much to Sam’s annoyance.
He cracked an eye open and sat up, reaching for the lamp on the nightstand, “I swear to God, if you’re not bleeding out-”
Sam cut off the end of his sentence as he saw his brother getting choked out against the wall by the door, shit.
Sam was out of his bed and stalking toward the monster in the next instant. He couldn’t help the pit that dropped into his stomach as the stench of sulphur invaded his nose. Instinctively, he brought his hand up.
It only took one twist of Sam’s fist for the demon to lose his grip on his brother and stumble backward, letting out a loud cry of pain.
Sam zeroed in on the creature as Dean got himself back to his feet, voice turning hard, “How did you find us?”
“I… I can’t.”
Sam took a step closer and twisted his fist again, “How?”
The demon let out another cry of pain and fell to it’s knees. “H-he’ll… kill me.” It took in some huffing breaths and brought watery eyes up to the giant, “P-please.”
The CI averted his eyes to the carpet of his handler’s office as he shrugged, sinking his hands into his pockets – his signature trying-too-hard-to-seem-nonchalant stance, “You told me not to go after the painting.”
Peter huffed and stood from his desk, “That didn’t mean I gave you permission to go after the jewels!” At the lack of change in the man’s expression, Peter placed his hands on his hips, “Since when do you steal jewels, anyway?”
Neal frowned and offered a half-shrug, bringing his eyes back up from the floor, “I like a lot of things.”
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You smile as you see him standing on his front porch, with that infectious thousand-watt smile. You do your best to ignore the butterflies you feel in your stomach as you climb up the front porch steps, will you knock it off? It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been here.
Your eyes meet once you join him on the porch, and you can’t help but smile at him, he looks frozen, “… What?”
“N-nothing,” he quickly turns and opens the door for you, “Y-you look beautiful.”
You feel your cheeks flare as you step inside his house, butterflies going crazy as you kick off your shoes, “Y-yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
You try to swallow down the smile you feel at hearing his breathy voice as he closes the door, oh man, has it really been that long? He turns back to you, leading the way up the stairs to his bedroom. You take in a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm your excitement, seriously, why are you so giddy? You’ve done this a million times.
You get inside the privacy of his bedroom, and can’t help yourself as he closes the door. Not so easily, you pin the man to the door, getting up on your tip-toes to capture his lips with yours, finally. You smile against his lips as you pull a moan from him, at least I’m not the only one who’s eager.
You back off him after another moment, brows furrowing in confusion as he chuckles. He moves to the bed, shaking his head as he sits down, patting his lap, “I just didn’t think it’d been that long.”
“Trust me,” you jump up on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “One day without being here feels like a month. That was entirely too long.” You nuzzle his neck, breathing in his scent, “I missed being close to you.”
He brings his hands up your back, eyes shining as he lifts you up, laying you down on the bed, smirk on his face, “Let’s fix that.”
You close your eyes as you feel his lips meet yours again. You wrap your arms tighter around his back, holding him as close as possible, slightly annoyed as you hear the phone start ringing.
His warmth disappears and you groan, “Nooo…”
You open your eyes and sit up, disappointment nearly crushing you as you wake up alone in your room, fuck. You run a hand through your hair and grab your phone, turning your alarm off, I’m starting to dream about him? Oy… You shake your head and let out a heavy sigh, getting out of bed. You move to open the curtains, looking out the window at the dead street, this quarantine cannot end soon enough.
Sam rolled his eyes at the whining call that floated down the stairs from his boyfriend. He just flicked to the next page of the book he was reading, not bothering to get up off the couch, “Whaaat?”
“Come here!”
“Why?”
After a few moments of silence, Sam huffed and got up, if this is something stupid, I swear to God… He begrudgingly made his way up the stairs, doing his best not to curse his boyfriend. It wasn’t Gabriel’s fault his boss had been on a rampage lately and today was the first day off he’d managed to get in three weeks.
His brows furrowed as he made it to the second floor and saw the bathroom door closed, okay, maybe not a dumb thing after all. He closed the small distance and brought a hand up to knock, “Gabe?”
“Come in!”
Sam’s brows furrowed farther at the sing-songy voice that floated through the door. He hesitated a moment before walking in, “… Is everything okay?”
He stopped short in the doorway as he spotted his boyfriend – perfectly fine, sitting happily in an overly-bubbled tub. He turned to the giant as a shiver ran through his body, “Close the door!”
“Uh, right, sorry,” Sam quickly closed the door and took a couple dumbfounded steps into the room, “So…?”
The trickster scooched himself over to one end of the tub, nodding at the opposite side, “Join me.”
Sam deflated with relief, “This was your emergency?”
He blinked up at him innocently, “I never said it was an emergency.”
Sam couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle at that, “I was in the middle of reading.”
“You don’t wanna be in the middle of me?”
“You should be capable of taking a shower without me, y’know.”
“I can,” Gabriel sent him a wink as his signature smirk lit up his features, “but it’s more fun with you.”
“How are you possibly still this horny?”
“That’s my secret, Sammich.” Gabriel got up onto his knees at that, which made him just tall enough, his dick poked out from above the bubble line, “I’m always horny.”
Sam shook his head again and raised an eyebrow, “Is that supposed to entice me?”
Gabriel moved his hips from side-to-side and wiggled his eyebrows up at the giant, “Nooo…”
Another chuckle escaped the giant’s mouth at that, and he felt his cheeks flare. He licked his lips and looked back to the closed door, I could always finish my book later…
After a moment of not-too-hard-deliberating, he peeled his shirt off and took a few steps closer to the tub, “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Gabriel sat back down, satisfied smile on his face as he watched the giant start stripping, “But I’m your idiot.”
Sam shook his head again as he started to undo his belt, “You know I barely fit in this tub alone, right? How comfy do you think it’ll be with both of us?”
“Pfft, please,” Gabriel waved a dismissive hand, and winked back up at his boyfriend just as his pants fell, “I’m sure I’ll find somewhere else to sit.”
“B-but,” Even though Bobby was behind him, he could see the confusion etching itself into Dean’s face, “Dad said I had target practice today.”
“You’re allowed to do more than one thing a day, y’know.”
“I-I know,” The blonde hung his head as they turned the corner on the sidewalk, park coming into view, “I just… really need the practice.”
“You kidding?” Bobby adjusted the grip he had on the baseball in his hand, “In a few more lessons, you’ll be better than me.”
That earned the father-figure a chuckle, finally.
John had dropped them off maybe a month ago now, and Dean still hadn’t relaxed yet. Not that Bobby blamed him. He’d finally overheard the speech he gave the eldest before leaving, and let’s just say Bobby discovered a new level to his restraint that day. ‘Don’t trust anyone’, ‘can’t let your guard down’, ‘be ready for anything’, and of course the classic, ‘watch out for your brother.’
It was way too much pressure to put on a nine-year old.
And, not to mention, a little insulting. If John thought Bobby was so incompetent, why’d he keep leaving the boys with him?
Not the time, Bobby shook his head to dispel the thoughts as they entered the park. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched Sammy make a bee-line for the swing set. Dean took a few unsure steps forward before turning to look back at Bobby. It took his brain a minute to realize the kid was waiting for instructions.
He could punch John.
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Bobby jumped up from his desk as a gust of wind blew through his living room, sending his carefully-stacked translated papers flying around the room.
It only took a moment for his semi-wild eyes to land on Crowley, who had his hands raised in mock surrender, “Hello, Robert.”
Bobby shook his head and eased down onto the corner of his desk, before nodding to the now-littered-floor, “Isn’t wind usually the upstairs guy’s thing?”
Crowley took a few steps forward and shrugged, “I figured a little theatrics might keep you from shooting me.” This time.
The corner of his mouth twitched at that, “Don’t bet on it.”
Crowley shook his head as he continued closing the distance, “Someone’s feisty today.” He looked over the desk and raised an eyebrow, “Moose and Squirrel need their hands held again?”
“Watch it.”
Bobby’s harsh tone was betrayed by his smile as the demon leaned in for a kiss. Bobby’s brows furrowed as he pulled back, eyes catching on a shiny thing that appeared stuck to his shoulder.
He plucked it off the demon and brought it closer to his face, confusion growing, “Is that… glitter?”
Crowley let out a deflating sigh, “Unfortunately.” At the continued confused expression, he sighed again, “The underlings apparently thought it’d be funny to rig confetti canons to my throne room doors.”
“And they chose green glitter… why?”
Crowley leaned past him to grab the whiskey glass from the desk, “For St. Patrick’s Day.”
Bobby chuckled as he let the piece of glitter fall from his hand, “So they still haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Apparently not.” Crowley downed what was left in the glass before he shook his head, “I doubt they will at this point, though. Seems all the competent demons are dead.”
“Sorry about that.”
That earned him a chuckle from the demon as he magically refilled the glass, “Yes, I guess that would be your fault, wouldn’t it?”
The corner of Bobby’s mouth twitched back up into a smile as he stole the glass from the demon, placing it behind him, “Maybe I can find a way to make it up to you.”
“Oh?” Crowley raised an eyebrow and nodded to the research, “You sure Moose and Squirrel can manage without you for a few hours?”
Bobby slid off the desk, giving the demon a hungry once over, “The longer they take, the more time we have.”
Crowley let out a low whistle at that, and gave the hunter an impressed once over, “Best not waste any time, then.”
The demon led the way out of the living room, then.
He stopped the hunter with a hand to the chest as they reached the bottom of the stairs, “… You know I’m not British either, right?”
Bobby snorted, “Yeah, I know… Fergus.”
Crowley’s cheeks flared at hearing the name, and he silently open and closed his mouth a few times.
After a minute, he shook his head before starting to climb the stairs, “Alright then.”
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