Paper Cut

[soncnica]

Title: Paper Cut
Author: soncnica
Rating: I'll go with 'R'
Genre/pairing: Sam/Dean
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: cca. 1.440
Summary: Dean has a paper cut. And it hurts. 
Warnings: Okay, so... language, and everything that goes with a paper cut: pain, blood (a bit) and Sam licking it all better.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is not mine! NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION!
A/N: Ha, I found this prompt on spnkink_meme and just had to try and write it. More A/N in the story.

I don't write things like this normally, but this prompt just... I wanted to do it. So the prompt was: Sam/Dean - paper cut. Sam has watched Dean get shot, carved, crushed, and broken, all without hardly saying "Ow." While doing research, Dean gets a paper cut on one of the books and freaks out (because paper cuts just keep hurting anytime you do something to aggravate them). Sam has to kiss it and make it better. Bonus for lots of hand-waving when it hurts and (because reCaptcha says "the breaths") a big shocked gasp when it happens.
I know I didn't do the prompt well, but... it was what inspired this. And well... we all know that you can't say NO to an idea, if the idea wants to be written.

Enjoy...

The book was heavy; 'twas like moving a freakin' refrigerator from the book shelf to the table. Made him sweat.

"Be careful with that."

"'s freaking heavy, man."

"Yeah well… a little less burgers, a little more veggies…"

"Shut up, Sam."

Sam laughed and went back to his own book; the writing so small he'd need a magnifying glass to see what's written on the yellow, moldy pages.

He was squinting his eyes, his lips moving with the barely visible letters when a gasp and a sonofabitch! made him look up from the tiny, tiny letters decorating the page.

Dean was waving his left hand up and down, left and right so fast it was but a blur to Sam.

He raised his eyebrows way up into his hairline, because watching Dean like that… was two parts funny and two parts whatthehell: "Ya good?"

"Paper cut, man! Freaking paper cut, goddamnit! Hurts so bad, man!"

"Uh, okay."

Sam laughed at the way Dean was flailing with his hands, as if he was trying to fly, the motion forming a wind that send papers flying from the table to the floor.

Sam tried, God help him but he tried not to laugh, but the laughter just burst out of him, spit hitting the tiny letters in the book before him.

"'s not funny, man, hurts like a bitch." He put the side of his thumb into his mouth, sucking on the cut, trying to ease the sting. Man, but paper cuts hurt. They're vicious little spawns of hell.

He sucked harder and tried not to hiss… too much.

"Want me to suck on it?"

"Why don't you go suck on something else?"

Sam had no comment to that, but more laughter; his eyes were starting to water and his belly started to ache, but it seemed like Dean was oblivious to all that, because he was sucking on the side of his thumb for a minute and then started with the shaking of his hand up and down, left and right again… as if that would help.

Sam rolled his eyes. His brother's such an idiot sometimes.

"So Dean," he cleared his throat, "a paper cut?"

Sam's voice coming to his ears at that precise moment startled him, because he was so deep into the how much can a friggin' paper cut hurt, fucking hell? that he forgot that there was another person in the room with him.

"Shut up." He retorted quickly, wanting to shut his brother up before anything else would be said to him, because he was NOT in the mood.

"Told ya, not to flip those papers like that. They're a menace I tell ya. I think they're possessed. Do you remember that paper cut I had like, what two years ago, that wouldn't heal for two weeks?"

He snickered a little when he saw Dean's eyes widen at that… he just knew that Dean was thinking about having that paper cut for two weeks… the cut opening up every time he'd just look at it. Hurting every time. Stinging and bloody.

He didn't have the heart to really tease Dean; yes sure if this would happen to him, Dean would tease him without mercy, but after their last hunt, where his brother suffered enough embarrassment too last him a life time, he just couldn't find it in him to tease… much.

"Whatever, man." He looked at his finger with intent, examining the little line of parted skin, where a trickle of blood came shining from.

"You just never listen to your baby brother." he tsked with his tongue, a sound he knew annoyed Dean.

There was a noise, sheets rustling, and light footsteps that were coming his way.

"It stings." He all but whined, when he saw Sam's sock clad feet in his line of sight.

"You're such a baby, man. You've been hurt way worse but one little paper cut almost destroys your life…" He chuckled and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets as best as he could what with one being injured and the other one holding a smear of sympathy with the other.

Dean has been shot, stabbed, thrown into every surface imaginable, thrown off of every surface imaginable, shredded, choked and bitten, hell he even survived Hell, for cryin' out loud, but one little paper cut almost makes him cry and act like he's four.

"'itch." Dean said around the thumb stuck in his mouth, trying to ease the sting.

"Jerk."

"Whatever." He put his thumb back in his mouth and sucked on it. The iron taste of the little blood that came from the cut was swallowed down with a thick ball of saliva.

Sam helped himself with a chair and sat next to Dean by the little table their room possessed. The computer and the table were pilled with papers; police reports, news paper articles, reports from the morgue, but lacked any witness reports… because there were none.

"So we all done here?"

"Yeah, we can go tonight."

"You sure this is the guy?"

"Well yeah… pretty sure."

"Dean, pretty sure doesn't cut it." he looked at his brother that was sucking on his thumb trying to ease the pain and not doing a good job with it, because his eyes were still a bit watery.

"Yeah, 'm sure… everything points at him."

"Okay, then. We go tonight." He looked at some papers that were scattered all over the table and then some that were currently occupying the floor.

"We did a lot of research, so I'm pretty sure this is it."

"Yeah, me too."

Sam picked up some papers from the floor, put them on the table and sighed while running his hands over his face…just tired. He chanced a glance at Dean, whose eyes were slowly closing… just tired.

"Sleep?"

"Yeah, sleep sounds good."

They both stood up, joints making sounds they shouldn't; they aren't that old... and made their way towards the beds. Sam lay down with a grunt and Dean followed with a sigh.

"We have enough gasoline?"

"Yeah."

"Salt?"

"Dean, sleep." Sam drawled out, sleep already capturing his body.

"Salt, Sam."

"Mhm… sleep now."

"Ffffff… damnit."

"Now what?"

"Stings, man."

Sam rolled his eyes, sighed and got up from his bed to sit on the edge of Dean's, grabbing his brother's wrist and bringing the 'oh so talked about' paper cut to his eyes.

"Doesn't look like it could kill ya."

"'s because you know shit. It hurts more then a knife cut, and I should know."

Before Dean ended that sentence, the side of his thumb was in Sam's hot mouth and his brother's silky soft tongue was doing magic on the sting; going up and down the cut, left and right, around and around, lapping up the blood… Sam's warm saliva soothing the pain that had possesed his entire finger.

Dean had to smile a little, remembering Sam as a baby sucking on his little thumb, until he fell asleep. Or sometimes he would suck on Dean's. He could still remember the tiny teeth that were just emerging biting at the skin…

Shaking his head to loose the memories, he coughed: "Fuck man…" his voice was shot to shit already and they haven't even done anything… it was just the side of his finger in Sam's mouth, but the sight that made… made Dean shiver. Sam's eyes were on his, never leaving them, never looking away, not even blinking.

Sam pulled his brother's finger out of his mouth, swallowing down the taste; he could still taste Dean's saliva there along with his brother's blood that seeped out of the cut: "Fuck you later, now go to sleep."

He got up from the bed, ignoring Dean's groan and settled beneath the thin blanket of his own bed.

"Jesus, Sammy, you're gonna be the death of me." He breathed out, pushing his palm down on his dick, because seriously… uh.

Sam chuckled: "If paper cuts won't finish you off first."

The End. *headdesk* and the bad news is!? I found two more prompts that I wanna write, because they just won't leave me alone.