Dean Winchester (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _jerk) wrote, |
“There's salad in burgers.” Dean shoots back, yanking one of the boots off forcefully and turning his attention to the burger, apparently forgetting that the other boot's still on because, dude, food. Much more important. It probably looks ridiculous: huge great combat boot on one side, the hilt of a knife sticking out above the top, and sock that probably used to have some stupid design on but is now a dull grey on the other, one of his toes poking through the beginnings of a hole. “Gherkins and onions and shit.”
He regards his own 'breakfast' sceptically, lifting the top half of the bun off and poking at the contents - seriously, what the hell? How many times has he ordered extra onions? That kid's definitely a zombie. Or a retard. Either way, deserves to be put out of his misery – but, being Dean, even seeing how lacklustre an offering the pathetic excuse for a burger is isn't enough to put him off it. Food's food, and eating what you're given comes more naturally to him than it ever did Sam, who's never had a younger brother demand the less burned slice of toast or the bigger half of the Hersheys bar you'd been saving and had to palm it off as not being all that hungry anyway, or had to skip supper so said younger sibling won't know the money's run out.
Doesn't mean he enjoys it, though. Which means (and he steels himself for an argument the way he's found himself having to do more than ever of late: seems both Sam and Dad are pushing for a fight most of the time these days, sometimes with him but more usually with each other) in 3... 2... 1...
< This is gross
… yeah, there it is. And while he wants to ask what Sam expects him to do about it, but with the patience of the long-suffering just grits his teeth, tries to keep the angry edge out of his tone with mixed success - “Fine, if you don't want it...”- and leans over and snatches up the burger almost as soon as Sam's set it down.