Burning Man
By Carol M.
E/O Challenge…guise…extended 1000 word drabble…Sam and Dean work a case on the beach and Dean doesn't put on his sun block… brotherly banter, hurt!Dean and bitchy but still awesome!Sam
Word Count: 1000
Spoilers: Takes place season 1
Disclaimer: Don't own them, only love them
Author's Note: So one of the additional challenges this week besides the usual word was to include a bit of local color or a local landmark in the drabble. I live in Sarasota, Florida, which is famous for its beaches, specifically Siesta Key, so I decided to let the boys get into some trouble on the sand. As I started writing the boys at the beach, my 100 word drabble turned into a 1000 word mini fic. Sue me. The boys were shirtless and sweaty. I blame it all on Dean! Hope y'all enjoy!
Sam and Dean lay in matching chairs on the beach in the guise of spring breakers, both shirtless and dressed in gaudy swim trunks hastily purchased at a surf shop that morning. Sam scanned the spring break crowd thoughtfully while Dean itched at his skin, shifting around uncomfortably in his chair.
"Son of a bitch! I think I just got sand in my…"
"Dude, I really don't need to know where you just got sand," Sam interrupted, glancing at his brother, who was starting to burn. He dug into his bag and handed Dean some sun block. "Here, put this on, you're starting to turn pink."
Dean frowned and then looked down at his pale, freckled chest. "Pink, Sam? What am I, a girl? And I don't need some smelly lotion."
"Dean, it's not lotion, it's sun block and you're starting to burn…"
"I don't burn."
"Remember that time on the Jersey Shore?"
"That was an allergic reaction."
"Whatever," said Sam, ripping the lotion back from Dean's hands and replacing it in the bag. He shut his eyes and slid his toes into the cool cottony sand of Siesta Key Beach, letting the salty ocean air and the gentle crash of waves lull him into a pleasant moment of relaxation.
"Hey Sammy, if you're not too busy sunning yourself, I think I see our guy over there."
Sam opened his eyes to find Dean already dashing over to the beer cart guy, a nerdy alchemist who was dosing up his suds with a special brew that would let him steal the drinker's energy, enabling him to turn into a powerful warlock .
Dean took the guy out with a flying tackle and a solid punch to the face. "Curtains, Elphabo."
Sam reached his brother just as Dean was standing up and facing the strange half-drunk looks from the spring breakers waiting to buy beer. "He uh," Dean began.
"We're with the health department," continued Sam. "This gentleman is selling out of date hops."
"Yeah, yeah, really out of date," Dean added. "Like centuries."
A cute girl in a red bikini pouted. "Where are we supposed to get beer?"
Dean checked her out, flashing a wry grin. "Well for you sweetheart, you can join me at the cooler back at my little plot of sand while my partner brings this beer bastard to justice."
"Dean, we gotta go," Sam urged.
"Sam, isn't it our job to make sure that these young beachgoers have the purest of alcohol to consume? We wouldn't want any innocents to get sick."
Sam eyed Dean up and down, noting that the pink shade of skin he had noticed on his brother earlier was getting darker. "Yeah sure Dean, no problem. I'll just take this guy back to his brewing facility and make sure all of the old hops are destroyed."
"That's the spirit, partner!" Dean smiled and escorted the girl back to their beach digs while Sam collected the unconscious alchemist and his spelled beer and headed for the parking lot.
Later
Sam dozed in their beach themed motel room with the windows open, continuing to enjoy the beach air and sound of waves rolling ashore.
The peace was interrupted by Dean crashing through the door in panic. "Dude, I think that witchy guy put a spell on me! I'm burning up!"
Sam opened his eyes to find Dean still shirtless, his skin an angry scalded shade of red. From chest to shorts and shorts to feet, his brother was the human lobster man. Sam laughed. "That's no spell, Dean. That's a sunburn."
Dean looked horrified. He slowly sank down on his bed, wincing as the backs of his legs hit the comforter. "So what do I do? I can't even put my shirt back on, it hurts too damn much."
"Why don't you go find your girlfriend and have her rub some aloe on your back?"
"She dumped me," Dean muttered.
"What?" Sam asked, amused. "I didn't hear you?"
Dean glowered at Sam. "She dumped me, okay. She didn't dig the cherry pie look."
"Imagine that."
"So where's this aloe stuff?" Dean asked.
Sam wordlessly produced a plastic bag from a convenience store and pulled out bottle filled with green gel. "You need me to help you rub it on your back?"
"What?" Dean asked in disgust. "No!"
"Fine. Rub that over the whole burn every couple of hours. You should be okay in a few days." Sam pulled a bottle of painkillers out of the bag and tossed it at Dean. "Take those too."
"Thanks," Dean muttered in an embarrassed tone as he painfully stood up and headed to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
A few minutes passed and Sam fell into a light doze once again.
"Sam." Dean yelled through the bathroom door.
Sam's eyes popped open. "Yeah?"
"Can you uh come in here and uh give me a hand for a second."
Sam chuckled and rolled himself out of bed. "I thought you didn't need any help with the aloe?"
"Come on Sam, don't make me beg. Will you just get in here and help me rub this on myself. I can't reach everywhere and all the stretching's making it hurt more."
Sam opened the bathroom door, finding Dean contorting awkwardly to reach the middle of his back.
"Oh thank god," Dean uttered, relieved. "This is like the worst pain I've ever felt in my life."
Sam grabbed the lotion from Dean's hand and squeezed some into his palm. "You so owe me for this bro."
"Whatever dude, you should've made me put on lotion."
Sam rolled his eyes and smacked his aloe covered palm against Dean's back a little harder than necessary.
"Ahhh! What the hell man?"
"Sorry, just making sure I don't miss any spots," Sam said in amusement as he began to rub the cool gel across Dean's skin.
Dean sighed and slumped forward, relaxing. "Anybody ever tell you you've got a nice touch, Sammy."
"Shut up."
That's All Folks!
(off to rub more aloe on Dean)