Title: A Sensitive Man
Disclaimer: I didn't create Sam and Dean. I did create Lucky. Aren't I the special one.
Challenge Word: "tip"
Word Count: 400 words. I live to rebel.
Players: Go to Enkidu07's page, and you'll find all the usual suspects. Resistance is futile – you will be drabbleized. We're like the Borg, only cuter.
Spoiler Alert: None. Just a little something with some Tickly!Dean for sidjack. You are rapidly becoming a muse, girl – and that should scare you.
Too hot for covers, he's stretched out on the thin mattress. Dean's in the middle of a dream, for a change a quiet, relaxing dream when it starts. A stop thump and a little tail traces up his leg, making it twitch, toes flexing. Something is wiggling its way up under his shirt. Nestling on his stomach.
Something soft. And more than a little fluffy.
His eyes are still closed, but his lips twitch, slide up into a grin. He's half-awake, and the sensations are really getting to him, making little sparks of happiness. But he tries not to move, doesn't want to tip the kitten.
Lucky nuzzles him, purring in contentment, and Dean starts to chuckle. Softly, there's no way he wants Sam to wake up and see him like this. Sam, who's face-down on his own bed, snoring softly.
He whispers, "Lucky, th-aaat…" his voice climbs up an octave as wee kitten paws lightly drum on his abs as the feline gets comfy. Dean breathes through his nose, trying to quell the rising laughter. "That ti-tickles. Kn-knock it (chuckle) off. S-settle d-down and go to (snicker) sleep."
Lucky rubs his head against him, and Dean gently pets the little bump, his very own Nightmare Guard. The kitten walks up Dean's chest, and his little head pops out of the neck of the man's shirt.
Dean opens his eyes a little. Eyes of emerald, eyes that have seen far too much pain and death, look into eyes almost as green, eyes that have seen so little of the world. As far as Lucky is concerned, Dean and Sam ARE his world. His Humans, always and forever and ever, amen.
(Lucky had heard that in a song, and he liked it so much he made a point to remember it.)
Dean smiles, not only because Lucky's tail is still gently tickling him. He smiles because this little, innocent being gives both him and Sam hope. That somehow, this whole thing may not have to end in blood and fire.
He reaches out and gently pulls the kitten from his shirt, and places Lucky over his heart.
Lucky yawns, and curls into a ball.
"Puurrow," he chirrups.
They don't speak the same language, but the meaning is very clear.
"I'm glad you're here, too, Lucky," Dean whispers, lightly stroking the sable fur, as both man and feline drift off to sleep.