|Auryon F. (auryon) wrote,|
@ 2008-12-24 15:54:00
|Current location:||sittin' on the sidewalk waitin' for my rocket to come|
|Current music:||"Ordinary Day" -- Emilie Mover|
|Entry tags:||drabble, fanfiction, prompt07, supernatural, supernatural100|
Character/Pairing: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 299
Warning/AN: Crack with crack on top.
Challenge: supernatural100's prompt: ghost.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, yes, metaphorically I do - but whatever it is, it's not Supernatural.
“Are you serious?”
“No,” Dean said, and then straightened. “I mean, yes. Yeah, I am.”
Sam boggled, and Dean wanted to laugh at his expression, but refrained just in time. “We are not going.”
“And since when were you master of the universe?” Dean queried, still somewhat amused.
“Forget it. We aren’t going.”
Dean gestured to the wheel and pedals in front of him with his free hand. “Uh, yeah, we are. Cuz I’m driving, and you’re not.”
“Dean,” and Dean didn’t have to look to see Sam’s pouty-bitch face of woe. “We are not going to some dumbass horror movie premier. No. Okay? No.”
“We were invited Sam!” Dean protested. He wasn’t even having this discussion. “We’re going.”
“Sam,” Dean raised an eyebrow in his brother’s direction. “Why are you being so bitchy about this? It’s not a big deal.”
Sam muttered something in retaliation, but did not answer. Dean kept driving, a smug smile celebrating his victory.
“I told you it was a bad idea. I told you.”
Dean didn’t have time for Sam’s stupid ‘I-Told-You-So’ speech. “Just hand me the damn shot gun Sam!”
“We aren’t going to make it out the back. Just face it like a man,” Sam pushed Dean out of the car, and the crowd before him screamed in manic glee. “Think of it as punishment for not listening to me.”
Sam had mentioned nothing about pre-movie rumors and secret paparazzi photos and full-blown magazine articles written on the topic of one mysteriously handsome Dean Winchester.
Tara must’ve said something – it was the only explanation.
“We are never coming back here,” Dean skittered away from the grabby female/male hands on the sidelines like a spooked cat.
Sam was silent, but the smile on his face said it all.