SPN: Maraschino, by WesleysGirl
Title: Maraschino
Author: wesleysgirl
Notes: Thanks to wolfshark and deaver for the betas! 675 words, rated R for language.
Dean groaned slightly and leaned back in his chair. He would have considered unfastening the button on his jeans if he'd been a loser. Instead, he belched behind a fist and sighed in complete contentment.
"Dude," Sam said.
"What?" Dean asked.
Sam gave him a look. "Do you have to be such a fucking savage?"
"Bunch of fucking savages in this town," Dean mumbled, grinning, and tried not to eye the smear of gravy that was the only thing left on his plate with interest.
"Just try not to do it again," Sam said. Going to college had turned him into an even bigger pussy than he'd been to begin with, Dean thought, but that train got derailed when Sam turned his head to catch the waitress' attention
"You've got to be kidding me," Dean said as the waitress came over.
"Can I get you boys some dessert?" she asked.
Dean kicked Sam half-heartedly under the table. "Only because he's a freak of nature." They'd both eaten the same meal, the meatloaf special. Came with two huge slabs of meatloaf, a mountain of mashed potatoes with gravy, corn, and a dinner roll the size of a baseball. Even though it was first actual meal they'd had since lunch the day before, which maybe excused their gluttony, Dean felt like he was gonna burst. No way even a freak like Sammy could eat dessert on top of that meal.
"Could I get a hot fudge sundae, please?" Sam asked. "Vanilla ice cream."
Of course it was vanilla; trust Sam to stick with the most boring flavor ever invented. Not that there was anything wrong with vanilla, exactly -- it was pretty good with pie. "What are you, an alien?" Dean said.
"We haven't eaten in like thirty-six hours," Sam said. "I can't have a sundae?"
"Hey, if you've got room in that gigantor-sized stomach for dessert, feel free." Dean waved away Sam's defensiveness with a lazy hand.
When the sundae arrived, it was the real deal -- three scoops of ice cream melting under the heat of the fudge sauce, clouds of whipped cream, and a bright-red cherry complete with stem on top. If Dean hadn't been so full, he would have been jealous.
Sam ignored the cherry and shoveled a bite of ice cream and fudge into his mouth, then scraped off some of the whipped cream and ate that, too.
"You got something against fruit?" Dean asked finally, after five minutes of watching Sam eat around the cherry.
Sam glanced at him. "Saving it for last."
"Since when?"
"Since always," Sam said. Then he admitted, "Well. Since college."
"Yeah?" They didn't talk about that much, but it wasn't because Dean wasn't curious. More because he didn't want Sam to know that he was.
"Yeah." Sam put his spoon down, ice cream unfinished. "Did you ever wonder how I paid for school? I mean, other than all those loans I defaulted on."
Dean rubbed the edge of his thumb across his lower lip and shrugged, but he wasn't sure it came off as casual as he was trying for. "Not really."
"Stupid bar tricks," Sam said. He plucked the cherry from the bowl by the stem and put the fruit into his mouth, sucking the stem in behind it like a piece of spaghetti. He gave a long, slow roll of his jaw that was more than a little obscene, then stuck his tongue out to reveal the cherry stem, which had a perfectly tied knot in the middle of it.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Dean said in disbelief.
Sam took the stem between two fingers and held it up halfway between them so Dean could see it clearly. "Nope."
"How the hell did you learn to do that?"
"A guy taught me." Sam set the stem down beside his ice cream dish and picked up his spoon again.
"A guy? What guy?"
"Just a guy." Sam grinned a little bit. "The things he could do with his tongue..."
"Sam!" Dean said, scandalized.
"What?" Sam asked. He got a calculating look on his face and lifted an eyebrow, then said, "Aw, Dean. You didn't think I was saving my cherry for you, did you?"
Author: wesleysgirl
Notes: Thanks to wolfshark and deaver for the betas! 675 words, rated R for language.
Dean groaned slightly and leaned back in his chair. He would have considered unfastening the button on his jeans if he'd been a loser. Instead, he belched behind a fist and sighed in complete contentment.
"Dude," Sam said.
"What?" Dean asked.
Sam gave him a look. "Do you have to be such a fucking savage?"
"Bunch of fucking savages in this town," Dean mumbled, grinning, and tried not to eye the smear of gravy that was the only thing left on his plate with interest.
"Just try not to do it again," Sam said. Going to college had turned him into an even bigger pussy than he'd been to begin with, Dean thought, but that train got derailed when Sam turned his head to catch the waitress' attention
"You've got to be kidding me," Dean said as the waitress came over.
"Can I get you boys some dessert?" she asked.
Dean kicked Sam half-heartedly under the table. "Only because he's a freak of nature." They'd both eaten the same meal, the meatloaf special. Came with two huge slabs of meatloaf, a mountain of mashed potatoes with gravy, corn, and a dinner roll the size of a baseball. Even though it was first actual meal they'd had since lunch the day before, which maybe excused their gluttony, Dean felt like he was gonna burst. No way even a freak like Sammy could eat dessert on top of that meal.
"Could I get a hot fudge sundae, please?" Sam asked. "Vanilla ice cream."
Of course it was vanilla; trust Sam to stick with the most boring flavor ever invented. Not that there was anything wrong with vanilla, exactly -- it was pretty good with pie. "What are you, an alien?" Dean said.
"We haven't eaten in like thirty-six hours," Sam said. "I can't have a sundae?"
"Hey, if you've got room in that gigantor-sized stomach for dessert, feel free." Dean waved away Sam's defensiveness with a lazy hand.
When the sundae arrived, it was the real deal -- three scoops of ice cream melting under the heat of the fudge sauce, clouds of whipped cream, and a bright-red cherry complete with stem on top. If Dean hadn't been so full, he would have been jealous.
Sam ignored the cherry and shoveled a bite of ice cream and fudge into his mouth, then scraped off some of the whipped cream and ate that, too.
"You got something against fruit?" Dean asked finally, after five minutes of watching Sam eat around the cherry.
Sam glanced at him. "Saving it for last."
"Since when?"
"Since always," Sam said. Then he admitted, "Well. Since college."
"Yeah?" They didn't talk about that much, but it wasn't because Dean wasn't curious. More because he didn't want Sam to know that he was.
"Yeah." Sam put his spoon down, ice cream unfinished. "Did you ever wonder how I paid for school? I mean, other than all those loans I defaulted on."
Dean rubbed the edge of his thumb across his lower lip and shrugged, but he wasn't sure it came off as casual as he was trying for. "Not really."
"Stupid bar tricks," Sam said. He plucked the cherry from the bowl by the stem and put the fruit into his mouth, sucking the stem in behind it like a piece of spaghetti. He gave a long, slow roll of his jaw that was more than a little obscene, then stuck his tongue out to reveal the cherry stem, which had a perfectly tied knot in the middle of it.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Dean said in disbelief.
Sam took the stem between two fingers and held it up halfway between them so Dean could see it clearly. "Nope."
"How the hell did you learn to do that?"
"A guy taught me." Sam set the stem down beside his ice cream dish and picked up his spoon again.
"A guy? What guy?"
"Just a guy." Sam grinned a little bit. "The things he could do with his tongue..."
"Sam!" Dean said, scandalized.
"What?" Sam asked. He got a calculating look on his face and lifted an eyebrow, then said, "Aw, Dean. You didn't think I was saving my cherry for you, did you?"