[MERRY CHRISTMAS
dancinpenguins! Set in
counted_stars.
likedillinger is used with permission and love, and
incaution is used with less permission but still the same amount of love. … I was listening to “I Won’t Grow Up” from Peter Pan as I wrote this and we both know that the boys are oversized five year-olds anyway, so … :D? It took on more of a serious tone than I would have liked, but this is apparently what happens with these boys.]
Neither of them would concede who actually pulled the first prank, but they both knew it was Sam.
Sam would deny it until the day he died, but for once, he was the one who set off the war. He needed to. There was too much tension in the air, too much bad blood between he and his brother, and he needed it to stop.
It was Life Day. From what he could remember it was the Star Wars equivalent to Christmas, and while he never had been big on the holidays, instead of getting on Sam’s case to get him to participate, Dean was sulking around and avoiding him, and he needed it to stop. He was crawling out of his skin, trying to figure out how to get his brother back on his side again. He knew he screwed up. He did. He knew he was holding more secrets than he should. But there were so many things that Dean didn’t need to know. So many things that Sam didn’t want to share, because he knew how Dean would look at him if he did.
It would be worse than this.
Sam always ran away, but Dean was still his big brother, and Dean was still always proud of him, somehow. He couldn’t disappoint him any more than he already had. So he did what any sane little brother would do.
He superglued his hand to his beer bottle.
Again.
“Sam!”
( *** )
1039 words
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Neither of them would concede who actually pulled the first prank, but they both knew it was Sam.
Sam would deny it until the day he died, but for once, he was the one who set off the war. He needed to. There was too much tension in the air, too much bad blood between he and his brother, and he needed it to stop.
It was Life Day. From what he could remember it was the Star Wars equivalent to Christmas, and while he never had been big on the holidays, instead of getting on Sam’s case to get him to participate, Dean was sulking around and avoiding him, and he needed it to stop. He was crawling out of his skin, trying to figure out how to get his brother back on his side again. He knew he screwed up. He did. He knew he was holding more secrets than he should. But there were so many things that Dean didn’t need to know. So many things that Sam didn’t want to share, because he knew how Dean would look at him if he did.
It would be worse than this.
Sam always ran away, but Dean was still his big brother, and Dean was still always proud of him, somehow. He couldn’t disappoint him any more than he already had. So he did what any sane little brother would do.
He superglued his hand to his beer bottle.
Again.
“Sam!”
( *** )
1039 words