Obligatory fanfic disclaimer: Since this contains characters other than Bam’s, I would like to add that none of these characters are mine, and this is intended as a parody.

“Ollie and Leilani fell through Ollie’s cabin door when the ship lurched for the fifth time in four minutes. Oliver hit the cold metal floor first, while Leilani fell on top of him with a theatrical gasp. “Ollie,” She murmured, and Oliver waited for her inquiry into his injuries, “I think we’re on the wrong ship.” As Oliver contemplated the extent of his brand new bruises and the fact that she could concurrently make him laugh and want to pin her to the floor, a throat-clearing sounded from above him. He craned his neck and was met with the cold blue eyes of the captain.

“Haven’t quite got our space legs, do we?” the captain drawled, his thumbs hooked in his braces. “As I surely mentioned, it would be appreciated if you could remain in your cabin for the duration of this…turbulence.”

“Aw,” said the big man beside him, looking just too interested. Ollie touched the back of his head and winced.

“Don’t worry, captain,” said Leilani, “I’m sure I can keep him busy.”

There was a pause. “Shiny,” said the captain wearily, towing the crew member away. “Please do so…inside.”

They were inside for quite some time.”

“The heat wave had finally broken for good, Leilani hoped, with the rain that had been roaring on her porch roof for twenty minutes now. Her skin prickled with the cool air and the thought of Ollie, whom she could see walking restlessly through his house, silhouetted against one closed blind, then glimpsed again through another window. She watched through the storm door, brushing the pad of her thumb idly across her belly where her shirt didn’t quite meet her jeans. Then, the storm door was clanging shut behind her and she was encompassed by the storm.

She strode across the street, her hair clinging slickly to her throat, her clothes caught against her skin by the rain. She half-jogged the last few steps onto his porch and raised her hand to knock, but Ollie already had the door open.

He caught her wrist and pulled her against him, his body set with tension. His fingertips grazed her sides, peeling her shirt from her skin. Ollie paused for the briefest moment.

“So, I guess I’ll need to make this worth your while, won’t I?” he said, his mouth cool against her wet hair.

“You sure will.”

He did.”

****
The word count is brutal, to do them both justice it needs to be triple the length at least.
-daner

++++++++++++++++++++

Leilani paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. There were strange grunts and a moan coming from the bedroom. If she didn’t know better…
She pushed it open, only to go instantly numb. Oliver was propped against their headboard. His head was thrown back and someone beneath the sheet was going to town in his lap. “What the fuck?”
Ollie snapped upright and his hand cupped the back of the anonymous head, through the sheet, stilling it. “It’s not what it looks like babe!”
“Oh no?”
“I guess it kind of is.”
“Kind of?” Oh god, whoever was under the sheet was moving like they were going to come up for air. She did not want to know this chickie. Lani’s stomach and diaphragm twisted together and she couldn’t breath, couldn’t swallow.
“I did it for you! I didn’t even like it at first, but then it started to feel so good and-“
“Is that right?” she bit out. There was a thump and clatter behind the bathroom door. “There’s two of them?!”
From the corner of her eye, Leilani could see the sheet sliding down off the figure in the bed as she stared at the door swinging open.
Dean. Dean Winchester.
She spun towards the bed and sure enough, it was Sam.
Two of ‘em.
Oh yeah.

Leilani was the little engine that could, and Oliver, well, he was just the one to rev her right up.

“Listen baby,” he murmured against her thigh. “I have something to tell you.”

Eyes closed, panting, sweating from the heat and from him, she just thrashed once more and moaned, “Not now, Ollie, just….” And she pushed his head back between her thighs.

He looked up to see her full lips pouting and pulled roughly between her teeth as she breathed heavily, twisting and contorting to get closer to him. He grimaced as his erection throbbed, rapid and urgent against the confines of his jeans.

“Its no good Lei.”

“What?”

“Its no good.”

Her eyes, glazed chocolate in ecstasy, opened to focus distantly on him.

“Ollie…” she breathed, “ what’s wrong?”

His head rested now on the soft curve of her belly. He felt as if he could lay there forever, resting his forehead into the cushion of skin he kissed the vanilla plane, his tongue swirling against her hot honey scented skin.

She squirmed in response and he stopped, afraid to continue what they could never complete.

“It’s over Lei. My wife’s alive.”

Oliver looked away from Leilani and closed his eyes, hoping she would just go. No complications. He wanted to heal, not get caught up with some chick. “Well, you could fuck her!” Oliver’s devil on his shoulder thought.

Leilani knew she had been dismissed. She made her way to his front door, opened it and stopped. “What the hell am I doing?” she thought, “I take what I want, damn it!” Leilani let the door snick shut as if she had left. Quietly, Leilani pulled her tank over her head and slipped her boxers off, dropping them both on the floor at her feet. Leilani sauntered back towards Oliver who was still stretched out on the couch.

Oliver felt the heat of her body before he opened his eyes and turned his head towards her. Oh God, she was as perfect as he thought she would be. She was lush. No skin and bones for the pushing. He wanted to slam into her right now and ride her all the way home, but he couldn’t. Damn his leg.

Leilani could feel his lust, Oliver’s body practically vibrated with it. His eyes were dark, his nostrils flared at her smell and she knew, she just knew, she would feel him rocking inside her tonight.

He stumbled through the darkness making his way to the bedroom. Leilani was curled at the foot of the bed hugging her knees. A look of terror was frozen on her face. “Baby, what happened?”

Her eyes slowly moved towards his voice while her body stood completely still. “I thought you were dead.”

“What?” He pretended to smile.

She leapt to her feet abruptly. It startled him. “I couldn’t sleep. Why didn’t you call?”

His stomach seized in a knot. He realized that she had been expecting him at midnight. His evening had been chaotic. This had happened before. But he had always remembered to call.

“Asshole!” Before he could react pillows were traveling in the air towards his face. He ducked as the pillow smashed into the lamp behind him.

The room was cast in darkness. Her breathing rang in his ears. Without warning her body crashed into his. Her arms seized around him with her fingers digging into the flesh of his back.

***

************
He indulges Leilani and agrees to watch the show with her. It’s on that teenager network but it’s not bad. The monsters are cool.

*

It’s not that she doesn’t always fuck his brains out, but he doesn’t catch on until the third week. Once again, she’s straddling him as the credits roll and he waits until she’s slid all the way down (so wet and snug) before he whispers, “Which one?”

“What?”

“Sam or Dean?”

She gasps, clenches, whispers, “Both,” in his ear.

He palms her belly, thumbs her clit, feels her shudder and grind. “No favorite?”

She doesn’t answer until she’s gotten off once. When she starts moving again, she grins and says, “At the same time.”

He groans. “Where?”

She goes faster. “Impala.”

“I meant…” He goes quiet as she rides him harder.

“You mean my mouth or my…”

He silences her with a kiss and puts her on her back, fucks her into the couch as she whispers all the filthy things she’d do to the Winchesters.

*

“Can I look?”

He kisses her neck and removes the blindfold, then watches her loose her shit over the rented, black, 1967 Chevy Impala. He puts in the AC-DC tape and smiles.

**

She kisses his cheek and, with a knowing smile, moves the Kleenex closer. “Sleep well.”

He holds his breath, watches her swaying hips disappear from view, doesn’t exhale until he hears the door shut.

“Fuck.” He rubs his face and gets smacked by her scent, remembers his hand slipping down her sweat-slick arm and breathes in again. His cock goes from hard to “touch now or start humping the air”.

He unzips, finds the flap of his boxers and keeps his other (Leilani-scented) hand on his face. He tastes one salty finger, thinks of her sweat, of pushing his fingers in the front of *her* heart-covered boxers, stroking lips slippery with sweat, with her wetness. Then, like some teenager, he’s coming from just that, slicking up his fist and making a mess.

He shudders through one last aftershock as he pictures Lelani at home, wet-fingered, rubbing herself off even now, her round, golden body naked and arching with pleasure. Ollie groans, squeezes his softening cock and would go again but the Vicodin, alcohol and post-orgasmic buzz conspire to drag him asleep. He barely manages to use the Kleenex and zip up before passing out.