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"Three Day Pass"
This isn't the aliens/SPN fusion I was talking about a few days ago. That's gen. This... just was too hard to resist. Author's notes at the bottom.
Title: Three Day Pass
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Rating: PG
Category: SPN/Aliens (Dean/Hicks)
Word Count: 688
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
“Where’d you learn that word anyway? I mean… dude? What does that even mean?”
“Dunno,” Dean says with a small shrug. “Read it in an old book. Kinda liked it.”
“Only you Winchester,” Hicks grunts, but there’s affection in his tone. He’s lying back on one of the uncomfortable cots with his legs crossed at the ankle and one arm behind his head. He could be sunning himself on a beach somewhere. He’s wearing his fatigue pants, boots, which are unlaced, and nothing else.
It’s their day off and everyone else had the brains enough to get the hell out of dodge but he and Hicks have been noodling about, delaying going their separate ways.
“Like you don’t have some weird ones, Dwayne,” Dean scoffs, balling a pair of socks he’d already done five minutes ago. It was just; he could make them better, a neater ball. That was the only thing going on here.
“Like what?” Hicks asks, raising an eyebrow and uncrossing his legs long enough to stretch one foot over, catch it in Dean’s duffle and upend the whole thing. Shirts, pants and carefully balled socks land with a gentle whuff on the polished steel of their barrack’s floor. Dean just glares as he bends over and starts gathering everything up again.
“How about stay frosty?” Dean asks incredulously.
“What’s wrong with that?” Hicks demands, sitting up and swinging his legs casually on either side of the cot. They’re that goddamn narrow that Dean thought he was going to roll right off for the first three weeks of basic.
“You’re not fifteen is what’s wrong with that,” Dean says with a chuckle.
“How do you know? Maybe I lied about my age to get in,” Hicks says, rubbing over his bristled jaw as if he can prove just how baby-faced he isn’t. That’s a good indication that they’re on shore leave. Hicks is usually the most cleanly shaved man in thirteen worlds if Dean had to lay money on it. His little relaxation is to not shave for a whole day, maybe two. He really goes crazy with it.
“Well I sure hope not,” Dean says with a small grin. “Otherwise what we did last night is illegal in eight colonies.”
“Instead of only three?” Hicks prods, a grin lighting his own face up. His leg comes up again but this time he hooks a foot around Dean’s knee when Dean stands from his crouch on the floor and tugs until Dean falls awkwardly across him. Hicks lands a healthy smack to Dean’s ass before he can struggle upright.
“Oh you did not just do that!” Dean protests, managing to get turned around so he ends up with an elbow in Hicks’ solar plexus and a knee in the meat of his thigh. Hicks lets out a little hunh of pain and switches grip, managing to roll them both off the cot and onto the floor. They’re laughing when they land though and Hicks takes a moment to stroke over Dean’s cheekbones when they both stop struggling and just lay supine.
“Can’t ever win with me,” Hicks scolds, taking a moment to lean down and bite quick and sharp on Dean’s eyebrow. Dean lets out an undignified squeak of protest and leans his head away, rubbing at the spot with a frown, which he can’t hold for very long.
“You sure you can’t come down to Foundstone?” he presses, switching position so that his leg falls between both of Hicks’ and then pressing up just a little, enough to be a promise.
“My six sisters would kick my ass,” Hicks says, but there’s regret in his tone. “You’re welcome to come home with me and help me hold back the screaming hordes.”
“It’s just me and my dad and my little brother,” Dean says.
“Okay, fine,” Hicks huffs and rolls sideways, affectively upending Dean off him. “How about a last shower before we head off. I’m feeling grubby.” He waggles his eyebrows comically and Dean can’t hold in the snort of laughter.
“Wash my back?”
“Maybe if you’re nice to me.”
---
Author's Notes: So, where's their first time?? I hear you not-ask. Basically, the Hicks and Dean in my head are already together. They have a short-hand and a history and just like each other a lot as well as the other stuff.
Title: Three Day Pass
Author:
kellifer_ficRating: PG
Category: SPN/Aliens (Dean/Hicks)
Word Count: 688
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
“Where’d you learn that word anyway? I mean… dude? What does that even mean?”
“Dunno,” Dean says with a small shrug. “Read it in an old book. Kinda liked it.”
“Only you Winchester,” Hicks grunts, but there’s affection in his tone. He’s lying back on one of the uncomfortable cots with his legs crossed at the ankle and one arm behind his head. He could be sunning himself on a beach somewhere. He’s wearing his fatigue pants, boots, which are unlaced, and nothing else.
It’s their day off and everyone else had the brains enough to get the hell out of dodge but he and Hicks have been noodling about, delaying going their separate ways.
“Like you don’t have some weird ones, Dwayne,” Dean scoffs, balling a pair of socks he’d already done five minutes ago. It was just; he could make them better, a neater ball. That was the only thing going on here.
“Like what?” Hicks asks, raising an eyebrow and uncrossing his legs long enough to stretch one foot over, catch it in Dean’s duffle and upend the whole thing. Shirts, pants and carefully balled socks land with a gentle whuff on the polished steel of their barrack’s floor. Dean just glares as he bends over and starts gathering everything up again.
“How about stay frosty?” Dean asks incredulously.
“What’s wrong with that?” Hicks demands, sitting up and swinging his legs casually on either side of the cot. They’re that goddamn narrow that Dean thought he was going to roll right off for the first three weeks of basic.
“You’re not fifteen is what’s wrong with that,” Dean says with a chuckle.
“How do you know? Maybe I lied about my age to get in,” Hicks says, rubbing over his bristled jaw as if he can prove just how baby-faced he isn’t. That’s a good indication that they’re on shore leave. Hicks is usually the most cleanly shaved man in thirteen worlds if Dean had to lay money on it. His little relaxation is to not shave for a whole day, maybe two. He really goes crazy with it.
“Well I sure hope not,” Dean says with a small grin. “Otherwise what we did last night is illegal in eight colonies.”
“Instead of only three?” Hicks prods, a grin lighting his own face up. His leg comes up again but this time he hooks a foot around Dean’s knee when Dean stands from his crouch on the floor and tugs until Dean falls awkwardly across him. Hicks lands a healthy smack to Dean’s ass before he can struggle upright.
“Oh you did not just do that!” Dean protests, managing to get turned around so he ends up with an elbow in Hicks’ solar plexus and a knee in the meat of his thigh. Hicks lets out a little hunh of pain and switches grip, managing to roll them both off the cot and onto the floor. They’re laughing when they land though and Hicks takes a moment to stroke over Dean’s cheekbones when they both stop struggling and just lay supine.
“Can’t ever win with me,” Hicks scolds, taking a moment to lean down and bite quick and sharp on Dean’s eyebrow. Dean lets out an undignified squeak of protest and leans his head away, rubbing at the spot with a frown, which he can’t hold for very long.
“You sure you can’t come down to Foundstone?” he presses, switching position so that his leg falls between both of Hicks’ and then pressing up just a little, enough to be a promise.
“My six sisters would kick my ass,” Hicks says, but there’s regret in his tone. “You’re welcome to come home with me and help me hold back the screaming hordes.”
“It’s just me and my dad and my little brother,” Dean says.
“Okay, fine,” Hicks huffs and rolls sideways, affectively upending Dean off him. “How about a last shower before we head off. I’m feeling grubby.” He waggles his eyebrows comically and Dean can’t hold in the snort of laughter.
“Wash my back?”
“Maybe if you’re nice to me.”
---
Author's Notes: So, where's their first time?? I hear you not-ask. Basically, the Hicks and Dean in my head are already together. They have a short-hand and a history and just like each other a lot as well as the other stuff.
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I know you see them already together, but a first meeting would be fantastic.
Did they go through basic together in your 'verse, or meet up after? Inquiring minds want to know. And uh...a flashback to their first time would not be in any way bad.
Heh! I had to pull out and dust off my Hicks icon.
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*bounce*
:)
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