Supernatural Fanfic: Twenty Questions (15/20)
Title: Twenty Questions
Author: poestheblackcat
Chapter rating: PG
Chapter characters/pairings: Sam, Dean
Chapter warning/spoilers: It’s gross. Really. If you’re squeamish, skip this one.
Chapter summary: Eh. Really short. I was tired. Sorry. But it’s light brotherly fun today. Have a laugh. Notice the Sweeny Todd references. Hey, it’s Supernatural so it’s gotta have something dark in it somewhere.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately. Darn you, Kripke. So, like I was saying, it’s almost my birthday…Okay, wishful thinking?
Chapter 15: God That’s Good
Sam watched his brother with an expression that was a mix between disgust and fascination.
Red goo oozed out between Dean’s fingers and mixed with the pale off-white paste trailing down from the limp, used-to-be-green vegetable matter hanging out of the thing he was currently stuffing in his mouth. Thick grease drip-drip-plopped onto the not-too-clean plate in front of him.
“Dean,” Sam finally said. His stomach churned. “How can you even eat that?”
Dean grinned at him between chews of Mrs. Lovett’s Scrumdiddlylicious Cheeseburger Special. “ ‘S goo’,” he managed through his mouthful, spitting out slobbery chunks of meat and hamburger bun at Sam as he spoke. “Wan’ sum?” He offered his half-eaten burger to his grimacing little brother.
Sam blinked. “You’re disgusting.”
Dean swallowed and chuckled. “I try.” He dived in for another bite of greasy goodness. Heaven. He rolled his eyes in ecstasy. “Mmm.” God. So good. Almost as good as sex.
“Hey Sammy. Look.” Dean opened his mouth wide and let Sammy see all the gooey chewed up food within. A piece of onion hung from his front teeth, dripping saliva.
Sam rolled his eyes and calmly continued eating his Cobb salad. Nothing he’d never seen before.
“So Dean,” he said conversationally. “We’re passing through Peoria in a couple hours. I think there’s an abura-sumashi there. What do you say we stop by?”
Dean choked and turned red. He thumped his chest to ease the passage of the hastily-swallowed food. After he recovered and wiped his mouth with his crumpled napkin, he sputtered angrily, “An oil-stealing spirit? No way. I’m not lettin’ my baby anywhere near one of those things. You know what could happen to the transmission if…What the hell are you laughin’ at, you little punk?”
Chapter 16: Knowing Me, Knowing You