Fic: Sisters and Brothers | SPN | Sam & Dean | Hard R | 1/1
Title: Sisters and Brothers
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam & Dean (no Wincest? Even *I* can't believe it! O_O)
Rating: Hard R, for topics discussed
Word Count: 1,255
Summary: At a greasy diner the boys encounter the scariest creatures known to man... a pair of sisters.
Disclaimer: Kripke and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: Written for my wonderful sister, silverlily771, for her birthday. Happy belated birthday, sis!! ^_^ Also, this is blatant self-insertion fic, complete with in-jokes. I make no apologies. You've been warned. :p Oh, and sis, sorry this ran on so long. The plot bunny bit me hard. XD
Sisters and Brothers
Sam and Dean were about halfway through their usual greasy lunch at the usual greasy diner just outside of the closest town off the highway when the pair of girls walked in and took the booth adjacent to theirs. Regular-looking chicks that Dean wouldn't look twice at on any normal day, one a dirty-blonde and one a brunette with short curls, both definitely on the curvy side of the national average. Not that he noticed consciously; old habits, and all that.
What got his attention was the fact that the girls didn't seem to be able to shut their mouths. He hadn't heard two people talk to each other like that in... well, ever. Their conversation was traveling at speeds even the Impala had never dreamed about, flitting from topic to topic in that way that only girls seem to be able to accomplish. There was mention of a new movie they both wanted to see, some chick flick Dean hadn't heard of, then a blogging site on the internet that they both frequented, the 'Planet Zone', or some other insipid sounding thing, then some incoherent squealing about some actor on some TV show that they swore up and down was God's gift to humanity, and finally a round of bitching about their mother and her guilt trips and double standards. Ah, sisters, Dean realized, actually looking up to notice the similar facial features the two wore, accompanied by broad hand gestures and equal enthusiasm for the topic of the moment. Explains it all...
With that thought, he shifted his concentration back to his burger, because really, that sucker wasn't gonna eat itself, and they needed to get back on the road ASAP if they were gonna make it to Fredericksburg by five; DC traffic was bound to be a bitch and a half, he knew, and the college campus down there didn't need any more mysterious disappearances. If they could get there before dark, they'd make sure that whatever was on the loose wouldn't be taking anyone else.
Across from him, Sam looked mildly annoyed as the sisters behind him continued their run-on sentence conversation, twitching like there was a fly buzzing around his head. Instead of saying anything about it, he just took another bite of his burger and washed it down with a swig of Coke, eyes wide and searching for their escape route. Dean took that to be Sam's universal sign for 'let's finish up and get the hell out of here already', so it couldn't be helped that he smirked, swallowed his own bite of greasy burger, and said, "Something wrong, Sammy?" God, but he loved teasing the kid.
"Oh, har, har," Sam snarked back.
"Aw, come on, I thought you lived for that kinda conversation!"
His younger brother gave him the best bitch face he could muster. "Bite me."
"Haul it on over here, Sasquatch."
"You wish."
"Not on your best day."
"Hmph, I'm not gonna be pulled into this again, Dean," Sam pouted.
Dean gave an insincere frown, "Into what?"
"Oh, you know what. This," Sam gestured between them. "This 'I can outsmart you and win any argument' thing that you have against me. It's not fair."
But Dean wasn't listening anymore, as he noticed the girls' conversation had ground to a complete halt. Silence seemed to hang over the small diner, as even the noise from the kitchen had ceased. It was almost like... "Hey, you remember that hunt outside of Denver, how all of a sudden it got real quiet, like we were bein' stalked, and everything else in the forest knew it but us?"
Sam cocked his head to the side for a moment, his train of thought derailed by the off-side comment. "Yeah. What about it?"
"It's happening again," Dean said in a low voice, hoping the predators at the other table weren't listening too closely. A shiver ran up his spine.
"The hell are you talking about? We're in a--" Sam cut himself off abruptly, sitting a little straighter in the booth. "Oh."
"Yeah, 'oh'," the elder brother mocked, feeling a stab of panic. Better to get out while they could, than have to deal with the sisters from Hades, he decided. No dessert was worth it. Flagging down the waitress, he nabbed their check, and paid with cash as quickly as possible, feeling eyes on him from behind Sam. Don't look up. Don't look up.
Dean looked up.
It was only an instant, but he caught the two girls staring at them before they turned back and resumed their previous chatter in hushed tones. He swore he caught "cute," and "neurotic," and "obviously brothers," and "nah, definitely together, but I'd still hit that like a freight train," as he and Sam shoved themselves out of the booth towards the door.
Figures, he grumbled to himself. The appreciation he understood - and welcomed wholeheartedly, don't get him wrong - but he never could figure out why people always made that particular assumption about him and Sam. It was just... weird.
Once outside the door, Sam gave him a playful shove. "Smooth move, Ex-Lax," he smirked. "You played that like a pro."
"Oh, shut up. I'm not the one that froze the hell up. You know chicks can smell fear. It's like sharks flocking to chummed waters or something." Reaching the Impala, Dean climbed in the driver's side, Sam opposite, and they slammed both doors, finally shutting out the laughter and carrying on that had followed them outside. "God, they were scary."
Sam looked at him sideways. "No kidding. I really wish I hadn't been able to understand their conversation about the internet. Man, you'd be mortified." His eyes seemed to almost bug out of his head.
"What, were they talking about internet porn or something? That, uh, MySpace?" he asked, eyebrows waggling up and down.
"Worse," Sam shook his head as Dean started the car and pulled them out of the parking spot. "You ever hear the term 'slash'?"
"Huh?"
"Written porn. For girls. About guys. Like, guys on TV shows, characters, whatever."
Dean did a double take. "What!? You mean, that actor guy they were goin' on about?"
Sam nodded. "Uh-huh. Him and about four or five others. Quality stuff, apparently. I believe the term 'fisting' was mentioned."
The sarcasm wasn't lost on Dean, and he caught the sudden very green look on Sam's face. "Aw, that's just nasty," he grimaced, settling in as they got onto the highway headed south.
"Heh, like the things we talk about aren't just as gross."
"Like what, professor?"
"Like decapitation, demonic possession, zombies, vampires," Sam ticked off on his fingers. "Shall I go on?"
Dean's forehead furrowed as he thought about it. He supposed their chosen conversation topics could be construed as gross, depending on the company.
"And need I remind you, that you're the one that likes to order pay-per-view porn at every motel we stop at..."
"Hey! Hey, now, Mr. Know-it-all," Dean glared over at him, sudden indignation rising in him. "I've walked in on you watchin' that stuff plenty of times, too, so don't look at me like..." but he trailed off, realizing Sam was trying desperately not to laugh. "What? What's so damned funny?" he demanded.
"Dean," Sam started, letting out a chuckle, "we sound just like them."
In a fit of clarity, Dean realized his brother was right. "Oh, my God," he gasped, refocusing on the road ahead. "When the hell did we become chicks?"
When Sam's roaring laughter filled the car, Dean's wasn't far behind. Really, having a relationship with his brother like the two sisters they'd encountered obviously had wasn't such a bad thing at all.
* * * * *
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam & Dean (no Wincest? Even *I* can't believe it! O_O)
Rating: Hard R, for topics discussed
Word Count: 1,255
Summary: At a greasy diner the boys encounter the scariest creatures known to man... a pair of sisters.
Disclaimer: Kripke and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: Written for my wonderful sister, silverlily771, for her birthday. Happy belated birthday, sis!! ^_^ Also, this is blatant self-insertion fic, complete with in-jokes. I make no apologies. You've been warned. :p Oh, and sis, sorry this ran on so long. The plot bunny bit me hard. XD
Sisters and Brothers
Sam and Dean were about halfway through their usual greasy lunch at the usual greasy diner just outside of the closest town off the highway when the pair of girls walked in and took the booth adjacent to theirs. Regular-looking chicks that Dean wouldn't look twice at on any normal day, one a dirty-blonde and one a brunette with short curls, both definitely on the curvy side of the national average. Not that he noticed consciously; old habits, and all that.
What got his attention was the fact that the girls didn't seem to be able to shut their mouths. He hadn't heard two people talk to each other like that in... well, ever. Their conversation was traveling at speeds even the Impala had never dreamed about, flitting from topic to topic in that way that only girls seem to be able to accomplish. There was mention of a new movie they both wanted to see, some chick flick Dean hadn't heard of, then a blogging site on the internet that they both frequented, the 'Planet Zone', or some other insipid sounding thing, then some incoherent squealing about some actor on some TV show that they swore up and down was God's gift to humanity, and finally a round of bitching about their mother and her guilt trips and double standards. Ah, sisters, Dean realized, actually looking up to notice the similar facial features the two wore, accompanied by broad hand gestures and equal enthusiasm for the topic of the moment. Explains it all...
With that thought, he shifted his concentration back to his burger, because really, that sucker wasn't gonna eat itself, and they needed to get back on the road ASAP if they were gonna make it to Fredericksburg by five; DC traffic was bound to be a bitch and a half, he knew, and the college campus down there didn't need any more mysterious disappearances. If they could get there before dark, they'd make sure that whatever was on the loose wouldn't be taking anyone else.
Across from him, Sam looked mildly annoyed as the sisters behind him continued their run-on sentence conversation, twitching like there was a fly buzzing around his head. Instead of saying anything about it, he just took another bite of his burger and washed it down with a swig of Coke, eyes wide and searching for their escape route. Dean took that to be Sam's universal sign for 'let's finish up and get the hell out of here already', so it couldn't be helped that he smirked, swallowed his own bite of greasy burger, and said, "Something wrong, Sammy?" God, but he loved teasing the kid.
"Oh, har, har," Sam snarked back.
"Aw, come on, I thought you lived for that kinda conversation!"
His younger brother gave him the best bitch face he could muster. "Bite me."
"Haul it on over here, Sasquatch."
"You wish."
"Not on your best day."
"Hmph, I'm not gonna be pulled into this again, Dean," Sam pouted.
Dean gave an insincere frown, "Into what?"
"Oh, you know what. This," Sam gestured between them. "This 'I can outsmart you and win any argument' thing that you have against me. It's not fair."
But Dean wasn't listening anymore, as he noticed the girls' conversation had ground to a complete halt. Silence seemed to hang over the small diner, as even the noise from the kitchen had ceased. It was almost like... "Hey, you remember that hunt outside of Denver, how all of a sudden it got real quiet, like we were bein' stalked, and everything else in the forest knew it but us?"
Sam cocked his head to the side for a moment, his train of thought derailed by the off-side comment. "Yeah. What about it?"
"It's happening again," Dean said in a low voice, hoping the predators at the other table weren't listening too closely. A shiver ran up his spine.
"The hell are you talking about? We're in a--" Sam cut himself off abruptly, sitting a little straighter in the booth. "Oh."
"Yeah, 'oh'," the elder brother mocked, feeling a stab of panic. Better to get out while they could, than have to deal with the sisters from Hades, he decided. No dessert was worth it. Flagging down the waitress, he nabbed their check, and paid with cash as quickly as possible, feeling eyes on him from behind Sam. Don't look up. Don't look up.
Dean looked up.
It was only an instant, but he caught the two girls staring at them before they turned back and resumed their previous chatter in hushed tones. He swore he caught "cute," and "neurotic," and "obviously brothers," and "nah, definitely together, but I'd still hit that like a freight train," as he and Sam shoved themselves out of the booth towards the door.
Figures, he grumbled to himself. The appreciation he understood - and welcomed wholeheartedly, don't get him wrong - but he never could figure out why people always made that particular assumption about him and Sam. It was just... weird.
Once outside the door, Sam gave him a playful shove. "Smooth move, Ex-Lax," he smirked. "You played that like a pro."
"Oh, shut up. I'm not the one that froze the hell up. You know chicks can smell fear. It's like sharks flocking to chummed waters or something." Reaching the Impala, Dean climbed in the driver's side, Sam opposite, and they slammed both doors, finally shutting out the laughter and carrying on that had followed them outside. "God, they were scary."
Sam looked at him sideways. "No kidding. I really wish I hadn't been able to understand their conversation about the internet. Man, you'd be mortified." His eyes seemed to almost bug out of his head.
"What, were they talking about internet porn or something? That, uh, MySpace?" he asked, eyebrows waggling up and down.
"Worse," Sam shook his head as Dean started the car and pulled them out of the parking spot. "You ever hear the term 'slash'?"
"Huh?"
"Written porn. For girls. About guys. Like, guys on TV shows, characters, whatever."
Dean did a double take. "What!? You mean, that actor guy they were goin' on about?"
Sam nodded. "Uh-huh. Him and about four or five others. Quality stuff, apparently. I believe the term 'fisting' was mentioned."
The sarcasm wasn't lost on Dean, and he caught the sudden very green look on Sam's face. "Aw, that's just nasty," he grimaced, settling in as they got onto the highway headed south.
"Heh, like the things we talk about aren't just as gross."
"Like what, professor?"
"Like decapitation, demonic possession, zombies, vampires," Sam ticked off on his fingers. "Shall I go on?"
Dean's forehead furrowed as he thought about it. He supposed their chosen conversation topics could be construed as gross, depending on the company.
"And need I remind you, that you're the one that likes to order pay-per-view porn at every motel we stop at..."
"Hey! Hey, now, Mr. Know-it-all," Dean glared over at him, sudden indignation rising in him. "I've walked in on you watchin' that stuff plenty of times, too, so don't look at me like..." but he trailed off, realizing Sam was trying desperately not to laugh. "What? What's so damned funny?" he demanded.
"Dean," Sam started, letting out a chuckle, "we sound just like them."
In a fit of clarity, Dean realized his brother was right. "Oh, my God," he gasped, refocusing on the road ahead. "When the hell did we become chicks?"
When Sam's roaring laughter filled the car, Dean's wasn't far behind. Really, having a relationship with his brother like the two sisters they'd encountered obviously had wasn't such a bad thing at all.
* * * * *