The Little Things
*Looks around* I haven''t been here in a LONG time, have I? Well, sorry 'bot that, as if anyone cares. But yeah, I have another fandom in my repretoire: Supernatural! Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki are too adorable for love. Their characters ain't bad either!
I love this stuff, but I gotta say, I'm kinda frustrated b/c I've only seen the first season. Then, the first ep of the second season was spoiled for me as well as the season finale for the second season. I really wanted to stab the unfortunate, but it wasn't really worth it in the long run, so, I'm dealing with it. Until S2 comes out, though, most of my fics will be gen/completely made up/or outdated. Please read anyway? Chiao!
Disclaimer: SPN is not mine, I am saddened, but then again, so are a lot of fangirls.
Summary: Sammy's eating habits
Pairings/Characters: One sided Dean/Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Uhmm, incest? I think it's a bit obvious, but whatev.
It’s amazing how much Dean has forgotten about Sammy’s eating habits over the last few years. Sitting now in a nondescript diner in the middle of Nebraska, watching Sam pick off the crust on his club makes it all come flooding back in a gush.
Sammy has never liked the crusts on his bread. Dad always tried to make him eat them, saying it was a waste of food to throw them away. Wrong or right, Sammy ate them when John was around. With Dean? No such chance. Dean would always just eat the crusts from his brother’s sandwiches, too. He always figured they wouldn’t be wasted that way and Dad would have no reason to get mad.
Sammy loves anything to do with apples. Applesauce, apple pie, apple tart, apple butter. It is the latter that is his favorite. He like it best on warm toast, sans crust, of course. It’s really good on cornbread, too, another one of Sammy’s favorites.
Sam hates, hates, HATES it when his food touches. Dean has joked that the ideal present for Sam, once they settle down (if they settle down) would be the plates that have the separated sections. Sam usually responds with a glare, but segregates his food nonetheless.
When he eats steak, or any other meat that needs to be cut, he always wields his knife with his left hand and his fork with his right, just like the Brits. The custom is absurd, but Dean is intrigued by it anyway.
Sam eats his hamburgers with barbeque sauce and his fries without ketchup. He likes boiled potatoes and mac-and-cheese cold. He puts salt on tomatoes and grapefruit. Sam used to harbor an intense love for Jell-O until he fell and fractured his ankle once after eating it. He has never touched it again due to the taste aversion.
He holds his glass with his left hand, but always drinks beer with his right. Mixed drinks can go either way. Shots are also left-handed. Dean never gets to see too many of these, though. Sam has a surprisingly low tolerance despite his size.
Dean is realizing, slowly but surely that he is completely, one hundred percent in love with his little brother and every time he eats or drinks or even breathes in front of him, it hits him like a fresh wave of euphoria. And maybe, one day, Dean will be able to tell Sammy, but until then, he’ll keep eating the crusts from his brother’s sandwiches.