John/Dean squick

This is the one that just ... I can't. I just can't.

This is the one that just ... I can't. I just can't.

I say you go clean your brain with that Dean/Impala. Which I still need to read. To see if it goes in that section of the recs page. ::nods::

Which I still need to read.

You do, because I want to know what you think of it.

Quiet days are good days. Another chunck of Sam and Dean at the Fabulous Ladies etc.

Dean looked desperately around the room. He could now see the posters on the wall of half-naked twinks and leering, bare-chested gym rats. Bob the Cowpoke had just unbuckled his chaps and let them hit the floor to the screams of the dirty old women.

Against a far wall was sanctuary: the bar. Behind the bar, doing her best not to laugh outright, was a normal-looking girl leaning against the bank of bottles and glassware. Dean scurried over, averting his eyes from the stage.

The girl did snicker a little as he plopped onto a stool. "I keep thinking we should put a sign out saying just what kind of dancers we have, but it's just too much fun watching guys like you come in here and freak." Her name tag said Amy.

Dean hunched his shoulders and gave a sneer. "I'm glad I could make your evening. Beer. Please."

She put a cold bottle on the counter. "On the house. You deserve it for the shock. Anything for your buddy on the floor over there?"

"He can crawl over here and get his own."

The whooping suddenly got louder. Dean put a hand up to block any possible view of the stage from his peripheral vision. Amy did laugh at that.

Sam sat down on the stool next to Dean, his back to the bar. He was still grinning.

Dean stared at him. "Dude, stop watching!"

Sam gave him one of those looks as he turned to Amy. "Can I have a beer?"

"Sure thing." She pulled out a bottle, popped the top, and placed it in front of him. She headed down the bar and Sam turned around again.

Dean leaned over. "Honestly, why are you watching this?"

Sam took a drink. "Because we're here to investigate some weird murders?"

"Oh. Yeah." Slowly he turned to face the horde of frenzied women. He managed to keep his eyes away from the stage. "So our killer's been going after the audience."

"And a couple of dancers--unless guys come to watch." He grinned at Dean. "Like us."

"Bitch." His discomfort morphed to the famliar hunter's wary knot. "Not just us."

"Huh?"

He turned around for his bottle of beer. "Far side of the room, darkest corner, there's a guy at a table. He's not here for the skin." He swiveled back around.

The guy in the far corner had his back to the wall and his feet up on the other chair at his table. A bottle of whiskey was on the table, and a glass occupied the same hand as a smoking cigarette. He wore a long black coat, his hair was pale, and he watched the mad action in the room with an empty face. His eyes tracked the room, and they slid to the Winchesters at the bar as he raised the glass to his mouth.

Sam shivered. "What?" Dean asked from behind his beer bottle.

"I think I saw yellow in his eyes."

"Christ. Yellow Eyes himself is in this?"

Sam turned his back to the room and leaned on the bar. "I didn't see anything about this, though. I normally see when he's up to something."

"So the rabbit ears in your head are off." Dean smirked. "Rabbit ears."

Sam glared at him from the corner of his eye. "I'd better not wake up some morning wearing rabbit ears."

Dean snickered and drained his beer.

Bob the Cowpoke pranced back behind the curtains, trailing his cast off chaps and whatnot behind him. A couple of waiters appeared from the shadows to circulate among the tables, then to the bar with orders. The waiters wore tight jeans and tight t-shirts that were obviously meant to show off the goods. One of the waiters was a short, wiry red-head with a quick grin and a quicker twitch to his hips as he sashayed from bar to table. The leering soccer moms made quite a fuss over him. His name was apparently Jimmy, and he didn't seem to mind too much when his ass got pinched.

The other waiter didn't get quite that much obvious fuss, though it didn't stop the women from following him with their eyes and whispering and giggling. He was tall and dark and (continued...)

( continues...) broadshouldered, with shoulder-length dark hair that hung loose around his face. His voice was quiet when he gave his order to the bartender, but Amy gave him a teasing smile that got a quick grin in return. He picked up his tray of drinks and turned to carry it back to the tables, and Dean saw he had a black leather patch over his left eye. The light caught on a symbol of some sort embroidered in black on the patch. The man caught Dean staring at the patch, trying to figure the symbol out.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a polite, chilly voice. The other eye was brown and squinty at the corner.

Well, he had been caught gaping at the man's disability. "Nope, sorry," Dean said easily. Behind him, Sam stiffened. The waiter looked over Dean's shoulder and frowned. Dean shifted to a better position between the guy and Sammy. "There a problem?" Dean was seated and the waiter was big, but lower down just put you at a better angle on a man's balls.

The waiter looked back at Dean, then smiled faintly. "No problem." He headed back to the tables and smiled at the women waiting for him.

Dean looked back over his shoulder at Sam. "What happened?"

"The guy in the corner didn't like you talking to the One-Eyed Man."

"Huh." He looked over. The guy was just tossing back his drink, then he refilled the glass from the bottle and tossed that back as well. He glared across the room, and Dean thought he saw yellow as well.

"It looked like he might come over," Sam added.

"I wish I knew why One Eye was giving you that look."

"Well, you amused him, getting all puffed up and protecting me." He put his arms around Dean and laid his head down on shoulder, slouching to reach. "My big brother."

He made a very satisfactory Oofing noise when Dean elbowed him hard in the convenient gut.

Okay, there I was laughing along with Amy the bartender, being amused at Dean's general discomfort at the strip club in general and Sam's lack of discomfort in particular, when suddenly I'm bracing myself for possible whompage and angst to come.

Well, the one where Sam's a girl and Dean's a boy is this one: beggars would ride

there are a couple of other genderswap stories where they're both girls in my memories under "fic i liked." however, that's about as grab baggy a memory tag as they come, so it might not be too helpful in finding those stories specifically. plei is tagging that stuff over at her delicious page, which I am sure I will cross post with her about.

Thanks, SA!

Plei, what tag do you use at delicious for the genderswap stuff?

when suddenly I'm bracing myself for possible whompage and angst to come.

One might think you've read my fic before.

I've found myself reading the Wincest posted on the newsletter, and surprisingly I've found myself enjoying more of it than I thought I would. Some of the writers are good, and manage to incorporate situations where I can believe the actions and emotions involved. Mostly I look at the stories sideways, as kind of alternate universes from the show itself; kind of like Serenity versus Firefly -- the characters look the same and (usually) had the same formative experiences, but they are just not quite the same as the ones I knew and loved first. Some of the stories are absolutely awful, just an excuse to put two hot guys together, who might as well be named Mike and Steve.

As for the genderswap fic, most of what I've read has had a comic tone. Usually one of the guys gets turned, and is curious to know what sex is like as a female, and convinces the other one to go along with it. By the end of the story she is returned to a male body. I have to admit my personal squick button is hit with the stories where they are a brother/sister pair, when one of them was born female. I have infinitely more difficulties reading male/female incest than male/male incest. I'm not sure why, if it's the possibility of pregnancy, or if I just haven't thought about it enough and I know I'm being inconsistent.

And John/either of them is just.... no. I've seen one or two stories that mentioned that kind of abuse, and promptly closed them down. I just don't want them taking up space in my brain.