82 Bottles : All About Us
Title: All About Us
Summary: The boys camp out for the night in the Impala
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author: alienstars2004 / alienstarsfics
Beta: The lovely arglikeapirate. Thanks so much!
Series: 82 Bottles of Beer; Episode: 1.02 - Wendigo
Rating: G
Warning(s): Wincest
Prompt Table: Here
All About Us
Dean frowned as he looked around, his hand hovering by the ignition, fingers at the ready to twist the key and bring the Impala back to life in a heartbeat. “I hate the woods,” he grumbled unhappily, hand slowly dropping away. His lean body held taut, strong muscles tense.
Sam smothered a laugh. “Dean, if you hate them so much, then start the car and we’ll find a hotel for the night.”
“Can’t,” Dean said miserably, “We don’t have any cash. And I haven’t had time to work on new cards, yet.”
Sam sighed. Leave it to Dean to have every possible fake ID made up in various rock and roll names, but not have fake credit cards for food and hotel rooms. “Dude, it’s just some random trees. I haven’t heard of any signs of Wendigo activity around here.”
Dean’s frown didn’t shift. Sam swore he was pouting, but knew better than to call him on it. “You get the backseat,” he said, finally. He pushed open the driver’s side door and went to the trunk.
Sam got out of the car and stretched his bunched muscles. He looked around. The woods weren’t exactly inviting, but they weren’t the creepiest they’d seen, by far. He wondered why Dean was on edge. He didn’t ask, as his brother was busy drawing what were most likely wards and protective circles around the car. He waited until he was done before climbing into the backseat, their doors slamming shut in unison.
He yawned and closed his eyes, tired from the ride, muscles unaccustomed to long drives. It was dark outside, the road unlit by streetlights for miles in either direction.
Dean shifted, looking around the front seat without sitting up. “Dude, did you hear that?”
Sam didn’t open his eyes. “Yes, and it’s me breathing, Dean. Sorry, but I’m kind of partial to it so I won’t be stopping.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
“Seriously, I heard something. Outside.”
“Stop being a girl, Dean. We’re not in some slasher movie- there’s nothing in the damn woods.”
“How can you say that? Of course there’s shit out there in the dark. Our life is a horror movie, Sammy.”
“Then it’s a crappy one.”
“You seriously didn’t hear anything?”
“No. Now go to sleep. Weren’t you the one bitching about how damn tired you were, anyway? I offered to drive, Dean, but no, you won’t let me drive the car, so we stopped. Get over it.” Wasn’t it supposed to be the older brother telling the younger one there was nothing outside? He thought for a moment.
“Dean?”
“Yah?”
“Are you testing me?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t “huh?” me.” Sam sat up, looking over the seat beach. Dean was lying on his back, staring up at him with fake innocence. Sam’s jaw clenched. “You’re a freakin’ jerk!”
Dean burst out laughing. “I so had you, admit it… I totally had you going for a while.”
“Dean, I never thought anything was out there.”
“No, but you thought I did.”
Sam opened his mouth. He couldn’t argue that one.
“Ah, Sammy… still so gullible.”
“I’m not gullible!”
“To anyone but me.”
Sam grumbled something too quiet for Dean to hear. He knew he wouldn’t win the fight, right or wrong, anyway. “Whatever, Dean, just go to sleep.”
“Now ‘m awake.”
Sam stared disbelievingly at the roof of the car. He cannot be serious. How old is he, twenty six? More like six.
“Are you this talkative when it’s you and Dad?” He asked, somehow knowing John would have none of this, but also knowing Dean wouldn’t even think about pulling any of it with him.
Dean shrugged, leather jacket scraping against the leather seat. “Haven’t been with Dad a lot lately.”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been hunting alone? With the car?”
“Already told you, Sammy, I’m twenty six. And Dad bought a truck, remember?” Dean reminded him. “’Sides, we’ve been working separately more, since you left.”
“That doesn’t seem like Dad.”
“Yeah, well. At first he didn’t want me wandering off to take a piss. Really freaking annoying, let me tell you. But that didn’t last long. He said he knew I wasn’t going to run off.”
Sam grimaced.
“Said family stuck together, and I knew that.”
Sam kept silent. He knew how Dean felt about him leaving. It wasn’t doing it to Dean. Hell- he wasn’t evening doing it to John. He just wanted to go to school, to maybe have a taste of normal life. He never felt like he was meant for hunting, anyway.
“So after all that, why’d he let you off on your own?”
“Saved his ass. Stupid mistake that he’ll never admit he made, but I got him out of it. Told me he thought maybe I was ready to work on my own some.”
“So he just handed over the keys and bought himself a truck?”
“Something like that.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “So it’s been you on your own a lot, since then? Why was it such a big deal that you came to Stanford, this time?”
Dean didn’t answer. Sam heard the leather creaking again, Dean shifting around, feet bumping the door.
“First place I went after he let me on my own was Stanford.”
“What?”
“Came to see you, Sammy. Where else do you think I’d go?”
“I never knew you came and saw me.”
“Never wanted you to.”
“But…”
“You weren’t exactly happy to see me this last time. Do you think you’d have rolled out the welcome mat if I showed up before you’d even had Spring Break?”
“Dean, you broke into my apartment.”
“What makes you think I didn’t before?”
Sam opened his mouth, but closed it again, realizing he didn’t have an answer to that one.
Dean laughed once, quietly. “They weren’t social visits, Sammy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Didn’t want to interfere with your attempt at normal life.”
“Wait, visits? You came more than once?”
“Yep.”
“How many times did you come to Stanford?”
“Enough for me to know you were safe.”
Sam’s chest went a little tight, at that. Dean had come to Stanford and he had never known. He had just assumed Dean would be the good little soldier and follow Dad’s orders: if Sam left them, then he was to stay gone. He wondered about all the other assumptions he had made about Dean, and how many of them were untrue. He pulled his jacket closer around himself, suddenly feeling the coldness of the air. “You okay back there? It’s gettin’ pretty cold.”
Sam wondered if Dean had any psychic abilities he had neglected to tell anyone about. They seemed to be specifically related to Sam, but he figured that was because Dean had considered him his charge for almost his entire life.
“I’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes and nestled his head back, feeling sleepy suddenly. He heard the leather creak and moan from the front seat. He cracked his eyes open, “Dude, you and your fidgeting… can you ever sit still--” He blinked. “Are you…?”
“Scoot back.” Dean did a not-so-graceful dive from the top of the front seat, landing half on the back seat and half on the floor. He hauled himself up, face inches from Sam’s.
“Dude, seriously?” Sam stared at him.
“What?” Dean stared back. “You’re cold. I’m cold.”
Sam stared blankly at him for a few moments. He was already smashed back against the seat, and Dean had to hanging off.
“We don’t exactly fit back here, Dean.” He pointed out, slowly.
Dean shrugged, shoulder digging into Sam’s chest with the movement. “We used to do this all the time.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “When we were kids.”
“Just because you’re objecting to being the little spoon…”
“I’m not the little spoon- you’re the little spoon.”
“You just keep telling yourself that, Sammy.”
“It’s physics, Dean.”
“Is it even spooning if you’re facing each other?”
“Shut up, Dean.” Sam shook his head. He waited for a moment, to see if Dean was done with his teasing. He smiled and cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, “I missed you, too, Dean.”
Summary: The boys camp out for the night in the Impala
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author: alienstars2004 / alienstarsfics
Beta: The lovely arglikeapirate. Thanks so much!
Series: 82 Bottles of Beer; Episode: 1.02 - Wendigo
Rating: G
Warning(s): Wincest
Prompt Table: Here
All About Us
Dean frowned as he looked around, his hand hovering by the ignition, fingers at the ready to twist the key and bring the Impala back to life in a heartbeat. “I hate the woods,” he grumbled unhappily, hand slowly dropping away. His lean body held taut, strong muscles tense.
Sam smothered a laugh. “Dean, if you hate them so much, then start the car and we’ll find a hotel for the night.”
“Can’t,” Dean said miserably, “We don’t have any cash. And I haven’t had time to work on new cards, yet.”
Sam sighed. Leave it to Dean to have every possible fake ID made up in various rock and roll names, but not have fake credit cards for food and hotel rooms. “Dude, it’s just some random trees. I haven’t heard of any signs of Wendigo activity around here.”
Dean’s frown didn’t shift. Sam swore he was pouting, but knew better than to call him on it. “You get the backseat,” he said, finally. He pushed open the driver’s side door and went to the trunk.
Sam got out of the car and stretched his bunched muscles. He looked around. The woods weren’t exactly inviting, but they weren’t the creepiest they’d seen, by far. He wondered why Dean was on edge. He didn’t ask, as his brother was busy drawing what were most likely wards and protective circles around the car. He waited until he was done before climbing into the backseat, their doors slamming shut in unison.
He yawned and closed his eyes, tired from the ride, muscles unaccustomed to long drives. It was dark outside, the road unlit by streetlights for miles in either direction.
Dean shifted, looking around the front seat without sitting up. “Dude, did you hear that?”
Sam didn’t open his eyes. “Yes, and it’s me breathing, Dean. Sorry, but I’m kind of partial to it so I won’t be stopping.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
“Seriously, I heard something. Outside.”
“Stop being a girl, Dean. We’re not in some slasher movie- there’s nothing in the damn woods.”
“How can you say that? Of course there’s shit out there in the dark. Our life is a horror movie, Sammy.”
“Then it’s a crappy one.”
“You seriously didn’t hear anything?”
“No. Now go to sleep. Weren’t you the one bitching about how damn tired you were, anyway? I offered to drive, Dean, but no, you won’t let me drive the car, so we stopped. Get over it.” Wasn’t it supposed to be the older brother telling the younger one there was nothing outside? He thought for a moment.
“Dean?”
“Yah?”
“Are you testing me?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t “huh?” me.” Sam sat up, looking over the seat beach. Dean was lying on his back, staring up at him with fake innocence. Sam’s jaw clenched. “You’re a freakin’ jerk!”
Dean burst out laughing. “I so had you, admit it… I totally had you going for a while.”
“Dean, I never thought anything was out there.”
“No, but you thought I did.”
Sam opened his mouth. He couldn’t argue that one.
“Ah, Sammy… still so gullible.”
“I’m not gullible!”
“To anyone but me.”
Sam grumbled something too quiet for Dean to hear. He knew he wouldn’t win the fight, right or wrong, anyway. “Whatever, Dean, just go to sleep.”
“Now ‘m awake.”
Sam stared disbelievingly at the roof of the car. He cannot be serious. How old is he, twenty six? More like six.
“Are you this talkative when it’s you and Dad?” He asked, somehow knowing John would have none of this, but also knowing Dean wouldn’t even think about pulling any of it with him.
Dean shrugged, leather jacket scraping against the leather seat. “Haven’t been with Dad a lot lately.”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been hunting alone? With the car?”
“Already told you, Sammy, I’m twenty six. And Dad bought a truck, remember?” Dean reminded him. “’Sides, we’ve been working separately more, since you left.”
“That doesn’t seem like Dad.”
“Yeah, well. At first he didn’t want me wandering off to take a piss. Really freaking annoying, let me tell you. But that didn’t last long. He said he knew I wasn’t going to run off.”
Sam grimaced.
“Said family stuck together, and I knew that.”
Sam kept silent. He knew how Dean felt about him leaving. It wasn’t doing it to Dean. Hell- he wasn’t evening doing it to John. He just wanted to go to school, to maybe have a taste of normal life. He never felt like he was meant for hunting, anyway.
“So after all that, why’d he let you off on your own?”
“Saved his ass. Stupid mistake that he’ll never admit he made, but I got him out of it. Told me he thought maybe I was ready to work on my own some.”
“So he just handed over the keys and bought himself a truck?”
“Something like that.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “So it’s been you on your own a lot, since then? Why was it such a big deal that you came to Stanford, this time?”
Dean didn’t answer. Sam heard the leather creaking again, Dean shifting around, feet bumping the door.
“First place I went after he let me on my own was Stanford.”
“What?”
“Came to see you, Sammy. Where else do you think I’d go?”
“I never knew you came and saw me.”
“Never wanted you to.”
“But…”
“You weren’t exactly happy to see me this last time. Do you think you’d have rolled out the welcome mat if I showed up before you’d even had Spring Break?”
“Dean, you broke into my apartment.”
“What makes you think I didn’t before?”
Sam opened his mouth, but closed it again, realizing he didn’t have an answer to that one.
Dean laughed once, quietly. “They weren’t social visits, Sammy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Didn’t want to interfere with your attempt at normal life.”
“Wait, visits? You came more than once?”
“Yep.”
“How many times did you come to Stanford?”
“Enough for me to know you were safe.”
Sam’s chest went a little tight, at that. Dean had come to Stanford and he had never known. He had just assumed Dean would be the good little soldier and follow Dad’s orders: if Sam left them, then he was to stay gone. He wondered about all the other assumptions he had made about Dean, and how many of them were untrue. He pulled his jacket closer around himself, suddenly feeling the coldness of the air. “You okay back there? It’s gettin’ pretty cold.”
Sam wondered if Dean had any psychic abilities he had neglected to tell anyone about. They seemed to be specifically related to Sam, but he figured that was because Dean had considered him his charge for almost his entire life.
“I’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes and nestled his head back, feeling sleepy suddenly. He heard the leather creak and moan from the front seat. He cracked his eyes open, “Dude, you and your fidgeting… can you ever sit still--” He blinked. “Are you…?”
“Scoot back.” Dean did a not-so-graceful dive from the top of the front seat, landing half on the back seat and half on the floor. He hauled himself up, face inches from Sam’s.
“Dude, seriously?” Sam stared at him.
“What?” Dean stared back. “You’re cold. I’m cold.”
Sam stared blankly at him for a few moments. He was already smashed back against the seat, and Dean had to hanging off.
“We don’t exactly fit back here, Dean.” He pointed out, slowly.
Dean shrugged, shoulder digging into Sam’s chest with the movement. “We used to do this all the time.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “When we were kids.”
“Just because you’re objecting to being the little spoon…”
“I’m not the little spoon- you’re the little spoon.”
“You just keep telling yourself that, Sammy.”
“It’s physics, Dean.”
“Is it even spooning if you’re facing each other?”
“Shut up, Dean.” Sam shook his head. He waited for a moment, to see if Dean was done with his teasing. He smiled and cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, “I missed you, too, Dean.”