Short Fic: Belt Buckle
Mar. 31st, 2008 03:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seedeePairing: Ron/Dean if you squint
Word Count: 463
Rating: Dean's exposed belly.
Summary: It's a philosophical discussion of some sorts.
Warnings: Abuse of prompts.
Author's note: Short, silly, pointless, but somehow I like it.
Disclaimer: No characters are mine. And I bet they will be forever grateful for that.
"Belt buckle!" Dean said, slurring the words only marginally, but oddly accentuating the 'bu' of buckle. He seemed to like it and beamed.
Ron blinked. "Huh?"
"Belt buckle." Dean repeated, looking at him, as if it was obvious, rolling his eyes and downing his drink.
Ron shook his head. "Belt buckle is the funniest word you can think of? You're supposed to be creative, mate." He pointed at Dean with his finger, missing his eye only by inches. "Where did my glass go?" He found it not far away and did his best not to waste a drop of Firewhiskey, while he poured them both another drink.
"It is funny." Dean had folded his arms in front of his chest and furrowed his brow. "Go on then, what's your funny word?"
"Noodle." Ron nodded vigorously, only stopping when Dean's flat around them began to spin at an alarming rate.
"Should have known that it was some kind of food." Dean pursed his lips and seemed to think hard. "Not as funny as belt buckle, though."
It probably was a result of their condition, but Ron began to think about the degree of fun that one could find in the word belt buckle, in comparison to the word noodle. He'd been an Auror for more than two years now and his logical skills were respectable, still, he didn't get it.
He gestured wildly with his hands to indicate that he had a problem, and that they had to find a solution. "What is so funny about belt buckle?"
Dean shrugged and lifted his shirt. "Just look at it."
Ron tilted his head and looked at it. And looked at it a bit more closely. It was nice, almost lovely. The belt was sitting low on Dean's hips, as he lounged next to him on his couch. They'd been to a pub to grab something to eat and a few pints, and then went home to Dean, who'd promised a bottle of Ogden's. Ogden was mainly responsible for their current condition.
Dean's skin looked smooth and soft, stretching over a flat stomach. A small trail of dark hair seemed to wave at him. Ron closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. No, it didn't wave, it just looked tempting.
"May I touch it?" Ron asked, still looking at it mesmerised.
"Of course." Dean lifted his shirt higher, revealing more skin. Ron could see the silhouette of his sides, the underside of his rib cage, and he reached out to touch.
When his fingertips brushed over the expanse of Dean's belly, both of them gasped, and Dean looked up sharply. The jerky movement made him wobble slightly.
"What are you doing?"
"Huh?" Ron asked, because how the hell was he supposed to know that?
Word Count: 463
Rating: Dean's exposed belly.
Summary: It's a philosophical discussion of some sorts.
Warnings: Abuse of prompts.
Author's note: Short, silly, pointless, but somehow I like it.
Disclaimer: No characters are mine. And I bet they will be forever grateful for that.
"Belt buckle!" Dean said, slurring the words only marginally, but oddly accentuating the 'bu' of buckle. He seemed to like it and beamed.
Ron blinked. "Huh?"
"Belt buckle." Dean repeated, looking at him, as if it was obvious, rolling his eyes and downing his drink.
Ron shook his head. "Belt buckle is the funniest word you can think of? You're supposed to be creative, mate." He pointed at Dean with his finger, missing his eye only by inches. "Where did my glass go?" He found it not far away and did his best not to waste a drop of Firewhiskey, while he poured them both another drink.
"It is funny." Dean had folded his arms in front of his chest and furrowed his brow. "Go on then, what's your funny word?"
"Noodle." Ron nodded vigorously, only stopping when Dean's flat around them began to spin at an alarming rate.
"Should have known that it was some kind of food." Dean pursed his lips and seemed to think hard. "Not as funny as belt buckle, though."
It probably was a result of their condition, but Ron began to think about the degree of fun that one could find in the word belt buckle, in comparison to the word noodle. He'd been an Auror for more than two years now and his logical skills were respectable, still, he didn't get it.
He gestured wildly with his hands to indicate that he had a problem, and that they had to find a solution. "What is so funny about belt buckle?"
Dean shrugged and lifted his shirt. "Just look at it."
Ron tilted his head and looked at it. And looked at it a bit more closely. It was nice, almost lovely. The belt was sitting low on Dean's hips, as he lounged next to him on his couch. They'd been to a pub to grab something to eat and a few pints, and then went home to Dean, who'd promised a bottle of Ogden's. Ogden was mainly responsible for their current condition.
Dean's skin looked smooth and soft, stretching over a flat stomach. A small trail of dark hair seemed to wave at him. Ron closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. No, it didn't wave, it just looked tempting.
"May I touch it?" Ron asked, still looking at it mesmerised.
"Of course." Dean lifted his shirt higher, revealing more skin. Ron could see the silhouette of his sides, the underside of his rib cage, and he reached out to touch.
When his fingertips brushed over the expanse of Dean's belly, both of them gasped, and Dean looked up sharply. The jerky movement made him wobble slightly.
"What are you doing?"
"Huh?" Ron asked, because how the hell was he supposed to know that?