Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "***farts***"

Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me
  • Create Account
  • IJ Login
  • OpenID Login
Search by : 
  • View
    • Create Account
    • IJ Login
    • OpenID Login
  • Journal
    • Post
    • Edit Entries
    • Customize Journal
    • Comment Settings
    • Recent Comments
    • Manage Tags
  • Account
    • Manage Account
    • Viewing Options
    • Manage Profile
    • Manage Notifications
    • Manage Pictures
    • Manage Schools
    • Account Status
  • Friends
    • Edit Friends
    • Edit Custom Groups
    • Friends Filter
    • Nudge Friends
    • Invite
    • Create RSS Feed
  • Asylums
    • Post
    • Asylum Invitations
    • Manage Asylums
    • Create Asylum
  • Site
    • Support
    • Upgrade Account
    • FAQs
    • Search By Location
    • Search By Interest
    • Search Randomly
Dean Winchester ([info]_jerk) wrote,
Dean also backs off, though he keeps the side that's not aching quite so much weighted towards Sam as he waits for his breathing to even out, staying round-shouldered and compact and bouncing on his heels a little, primed for round two if things should go that way. Not that he's eager for them to do so; in the strictest sense of the word, sure, he's won that bout, but he's probably going to have some epic bruises in the morning because Sam's all thin and hard and bony, all elbows and knees, and even when he should give in gracefully he squirms and fights back.

“Yeah, well.” he says, and his voice sounds weird too, all bassy and gravelly, and he swallows hard, flexing his fingers experimentally; closing them into a fist is... interesting. Maybe he shouldn't have punched quite so hard, because in the apparently increasingly unlikely event that he's actually called upon to do something other than babysit his punching will be marginally less efficient, and that's probably unacceptable. “Someone has to knock some sense into you.”

“Bitch” comes fairly naturally afterwards, recognising the request for a truce and conceding to it with as near to good grace as this is ever going to get, though he gives Sam a halfassed shove with the good shoulder as he pushes past and heads back to his bed, sitting on the edge of it and flopping back with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhales. Even if he did win the fight he's going to lose the argument, because he's never really been able to say no to Sam and mean it, and Sam knows that, he's sure. He's a smart kid, so he's got to have figured it out from all the times Dean gave in when they were young.

When he speaks again it's lower, the words coming hard and fast as if that way it's like he's not really said them. “I'll tell him I got myself banned from the diner and you had to take over the supply runs.”

He doesn't expect a 'thank you', or anything, because he never gets one, and that's cool. Sam can repay him by not being an asshole when he gets back...

... hey, a guy can dream, right?


(Read comments)

Post a comment in response:

From:
( )Anonymous- this user has disabled anonymous posting.
( )OpenID
Username:
Password:
Don't have an account? Create one now.
Subject:
No HTML allowed in subject
  
Message:
 

Home | Site Map | Manage Account | TOS | Privacy | Support | FAQs