Drabbles, part uno
I offered up some drabbles for the most recent FFA, and for posterity, I'm keeping them on here.
Dean has been whistling ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland’ for the past two hours. Over, and over again. Any time the melody comes to a close, he simply pulls in a breath and starts again. All with the utterly innocent intention of making his brother lose his mind.
“Dean!” Finally, he snaps. Slamming the greasy plastic menu down on the table between them, brows furrowed. Sam looks pissed, and Dean couldn’t be more pleased. Because the kid has been lost so deep in his own head for days, that he wasn’t entirely certain he would be able to fish him out.
“What?” Ever the paragon of innocence, Dean leans back against the booth, slinging his arm along the back, and very nearly elbowing an elderly woman in the back of the head in the process.
“I will kill you.” It’s so hard to take Sam seriously with those bangs hanging down into his eyes. He looks like an indignant fourteen year old girl.
“I’d like to see you try, princess.” It earns him a swift kick to the shin beneath the table, but Dean’s smirk only wavers for a moment. He’s persistent, damnit. “Do you want me to wait for you to take your press on nails off first? I’m sure the waitress will hold your earrings.”
Sam scowls and unfolds from the seat, stalking out into the light snow. Without so much as a word, no less. Dean swears under his breath and drops a battered twenty onto the table, following Sam towards the parking lot. “Whoah, when did you get your period, man? I was just jerking your chain-”
Dean doesn’t get the chance to finish the sentence before he’s tackled into a snowdrift off of the side of the gravel. There’s long limbs and muscles he doesn’t remember, all crowded up into his space.
The little shit actually crows with laughter, blowing the strands of hair out of his eyes. “Take your winter wonderland and shove it.”
Suddenly he finds himself with his hands on bony, sharp hips and there’s a whole load of Sam pressed up against him in ways that Dean was pretty sure brothers weren’t supposed to fit. Yet sure enough, that’s Sam’s warm thigh pressed up nice and tight against his balls.
“Dean?” All of the bravado has leaked from Sam’s voice, leaving him sounding about as young as he looks. It takes effort for Dean to remember that the kid was pre-law, only a couple of months ago.
“Go with it, Sammy.” It’s closer to a plea than Dean would like, but he’s desperate to keep that light in his brother’s eyes, and the smile close to the surface. He can’t bring back Jessica, and he sure as hell can’t change their lives. But if rubbing a rough palm against Sam’s crotch can keep him in the present for a few more minutes?
Dean is so willing to take one for the team.
Dean has been whistling ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland’ for the past two hours. Over, and over again. Any time the melody comes to a close, he simply pulls in a breath and starts again. All with the utterly innocent intention of making his brother lose his mind.
“Dean!” Finally, he snaps. Slamming the greasy plastic menu down on the table between them, brows furrowed. Sam looks pissed, and Dean couldn’t be more pleased. Because the kid has been lost so deep in his own head for days, that he wasn’t entirely certain he would be able to fish him out.
“What?” Ever the paragon of innocence, Dean leans back against the booth, slinging his arm along the back, and very nearly elbowing an elderly woman in the back of the head in the process.
“I will kill you.” It’s so hard to take Sam seriously with those bangs hanging down into his eyes. He looks like an indignant fourteen year old girl.
“I’d like to see you try, princess.” It earns him a swift kick to the shin beneath the table, but Dean’s smirk only wavers for a moment. He’s persistent, damnit. “Do you want me to wait for you to take your press on nails off first? I’m sure the waitress will hold your earrings.”
Sam scowls and unfolds from the seat, stalking out into the light snow. Without so much as a word, no less. Dean swears under his breath and drops a battered twenty onto the table, following Sam towards the parking lot. “Whoah, when did you get your period, man? I was just jerking your chain-”
Dean doesn’t get the chance to finish the sentence before he’s tackled into a snowdrift off of the side of the gravel. There’s long limbs and muscles he doesn’t remember, all crowded up into his space.
The little shit actually crows with laughter, blowing the strands of hair out of his eyes. “Take your winter wonderland and shove it.”
Suddenly he finds himself with his hands on bony, sharp hips and there’s a whole load of Sam pressed up against him in ways that Dean was pretty sure brothers weren’t supposed to fit. Yet sure enough, that’s Sam’s warm thigh pressed up nice and tight against his balls.
“Dean?” All of the bravado has leaked from Sam’s voice, leaving him sounding about as young as he looks. It takes effort for Dean to remember that the kid was pre-law, only a couple of months ago.
“Go with it, Sammy.” It’s closer to a plea than Dean would like, but he’s desperate to keep that light in his brother’s eyes, and the smile close to the surface. He can’t bring back Jessica, and he sure as hell can’t change their lives. But if rubbing a rough palm against Sam’s crotch can keep him in the present for a few more minutes?
Dean is so willing to take one for the team.