Comment fic: Sam and Dean Baking For John
Originally posted here.
Prompt: wee!chesters making a mess in the kitchen while trying to make a cake. Maybe they make it for John's birthday or Sam saw a mother of some other child baking and complains now why they never have cake. Just some little Dean and Sammy kitchen schmoop, please.
Dean should know by now that letting Sam loose into the kitchen never ends well. There's flower all over the motel room, flour in Sam's hair, and hundreds and thousands all over Dean's clothes. Sam is standing at the small table with a big mixing bowl they bought for $2 in his arms and looks up at Dean with wide, shining eyes.
"Mix it, Dean? Please?"
Dean rolls his eyes but takes the bowl off him, and sticks the wooden spoon in it. "Don't see why you can't mix this yourself, twerp."
Sam grins at him, knowing that whatever Dean says he's won, and he walks over to the cupboards to get out a baking tray. They don't even know what they're doing, not really, only that Sam had come home from school bouncing up and down, begging Dean to let them bake cupcakes for dad's birthday. Dean doesn't even know if he'll be back for it, but he can't refuse the kid, never has been able to.
"Alright - what do we do now?" Dean asks, putting the bowl down.
Sam turns to him and frowns, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "I don't know. Put it in the cooker? I've never made fairy cakes before."
"Cupcakes, Sam," Dean says, grabbing the baking tray out of his hands. "Not fairy cakes."
Sam sticks his bottom lip out even more, and it starts to wobble, and Dean puts the tray down and walks over to him. "Fine, fine. Fairy cakes. Happy?"
"Promise?" Sam asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Jesus, Sam, yes. Fairy cakes."
Sam's entire face lights up and starts bouncing on his toes. Then there's the familiar sound of an engine pulling up outside their motel room, and then the stomping of boots towards their door. Sam is looking across the room with wide eyes, his mouth open. "Dean!" he hisses, grabbing the bowl. "It's a secret! He's gonna see the fairy cakes!"
Dean looks around the room, at the flour covering the carpet and sink and the sticky wooden spoon that's resting on the table. "Um. Don't worry," Dean says, for lack of anything better to say, and John opens the door, and walks in with a slight limp, and a bag over one shoulder. He pauses once he's shut the door behind him, and looks around the room with wide eyes.
Sam's mouth is still open, and he's hugging the bowl to his chest. Dean stands there, waiting to see what their dad is going to say.
"Dean," he starts slowly. "Why is there flour all over the room?"
"We're making fairy cakes!" Sam says, still clutching the bowl like a security blanket. He pouts and says, with less enthusiasm, "For your birthday. It was supposed to be a surprise."
John nods, eyes cool as he continues to survey the scene.
"Sorry," Dean says awkwardly, averting his gaze. "For the mess. Didn't think you'd be back so soon."
There's a long pause where Dean feels the tension heighten, before John says, "Come on then." He drops the bag at his feet and rolls his sleeves up. Dean looks at him, feeling the anxiety wash away. "Let's see if we can't bake these cakes."
Sam grins and starts jumping on his feet again, almost dropping the bowl, and Dean pries it out of his fingers before any more damage is done. John walks beside them and turns the cooker on, and ruffles Sam's hair, a few granules of sugar falling out.
Dean watches as their dad helps Sam up onto the counter, and steps in beside them, a smile on his face.
Prompt: wee!chesters making a mess in the kitchen while trying to make a cake. Maybe they make it for John's birthday or Sam saw a mother of some other child baking and complains now why they never have cake. Just some little Dean and Sammy kitchen schmoop, please.
Dean should know by now that letting Sam loose into the kitchen never ends well. There's flower all over the motel room, flour in Sam's hair, and hundreds and thousands all over Dean's clothes. Sam is standing at the small table with a big mixing bowl they bought for $2 in his arms and looks up at Dean with wide, shining eyes.
"Mix it, Dean? Please?"
Dean rolls his eyes but takes the bowl off him, and sticks the wooden spoon in it. "Don't see why you can't mix this yourself, twerp."
Sam grins at him, knowing that whatever Dean says he's won, and he walks over to the cupboards to get out a baking tray. They don't even know what they're doing, not really, only that Sam had come home from school bouncing up and down, begging Dean to let them bake cupcakes for dad's birthday. Dean doesn't even know if he'll be back for it, but he can't refuse the kid, never has been able to.
"Alright - what do we do now?" Dean asks, putting the bowl down.
Sam turns to him and frowns, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "I don't know. Put it in the cooker? I've never made fairy cakes before."
"Cupcakes, Sam," Dean says, grabbing the baking tray out of his hands. "Not fairy cakes."
Sam sticks his bottom lip out even more, and it starts to wobble, and Dean puts the tray down and walks over to him. "Fine, fine. Fairy cakes. Happy?"
"Promise?" Sam asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Jesus, Sam, yes. Fairy cakes."
Sam's entire face lights up and starts bouncing on his toes. Then there's the familiar sound of an engine pulling up outside their motel room, and then the stomping of boots towards their door. Sam is looking across the room with wide eyes, his mouth open. "Dean!" he hisses, grabbing the bowl. "It's a secret! He's gonna see the fairy cakes!"
Dean looks around the room, at the flour covering the carpet and sink and the sticky wooden spoon that's resting on the table. "Um. Don't worry," Dean says, for lack of anything better to say, and John opens the door, and walks in with a slight limp, and a bag over one shoulder. He pauses once he's shut the door behind him, and looks around the room with wide eyes.
Sam's mouth is still open, and he's hugging the bowl to his chest. Dean stands there, waiting to see what their dad is going to say.
"Dean," he starts slowly. "Why is there flour all over the room?"
"We're making fairy cakes!" Sam says, still clutching the bowl like a security blanket. He pouts and says, with less enthusiasm, "For your birthday. It was supposed to be a surprise."
John nods, eyes cool as he continues to survey the scene.
"Sorry," Dean says awkwardly, averting his gaze. "For the mess. Didn't think you'd be back so soon."
There's a long pause where Dean feels the tension heighten, before John says, "Come on then." He drops the bag at his feet and rolls his sleeves up. Dean looks at him, feeling the anxiety wash away. "Let's see if we can't bake these cakes."
Sam grins and starts jumping on his feet again, almost dropping the bowl, and Dean pries it out of his fingers before any more damage is done. John walks beside them and turns the cooker on, and ruffles Sam's hair, a few granules of sugar falling out.
Dean watches as their dad helps Sam up onto the counter, and steps in beside them, a smile on his face.