[fic] musesfool: Ashtray Floors, Dirty Clothes, And Filthy Jokes
[ gen ]
Title: Ashtray Floors, Dirty Clothes, And Filthy Jokes
Writer: musesfool
Status of work: complete
Characters and/or pairings: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Warnings, kinks & contents: [Click to read]none
Length: ~6200 words
Summary: Domesticity, Winchester style.
Reccer's notes: I'll start you out with a classic this month, for me anyway. One of the first SPN fics I ever read, one of my oldest bookmarks. I love how quiet and observant this is, and still on the dot for the time it's been written and set in.
[Short excerpt]Dean sets everything out on the kitchen table. Bobby sits with him, reading one of his dusty old grimoires, the dog sleeping at his feet.
Sam joins them, picks up his whetstone and starts on the knives while Dean handles the guns.
Dean looks up and grins at him, and he has to lower his gaze to his hands so Dean won't see how bright his eyes are, how the tears are welling up and threatening to spill over. He hasn't cried yet, not the way he did when Dean died, and he's afraid if he starts now, he'll never stop.
His hands shake a little, and Dean must be watching, because he says, "Hey, hey, Sammy. Be careful there. Don't want you to lose a finger or anything."
"Yeah," he says, blinking rapidly at the familiar words and setting the knife and whetstone down on the table. He rubs his hands on his thighs and blinks rapidly. "That would be inconvenient."