Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likely_evil) wrote2010-06-07 09:23 pm
likely_evil) wrote2010-06-07 09:23 pm
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charloft100 Drabbles of Summer: Wrath, Pride, Sloth
more wee!Chester drabbles...
Wrath
Sam was four when he got to play on the beach for the first time in his life. His dad had even made a big deal of getting Sam a little bucket that would make a castle when he packed it full of wet sand and then turned it over.
The mean little boy a few feet away, however, was jealous and came over and kicked the castle down, then stuck his tongue out and ran away. Dean hugged him while Sam cried, and then Sam watched as Dean snuck over and took out his little knife and slashed the kid’s beach ball when it bounced too close their way.
John might have yelled at Dean after that and packed them up, but Sam snuggled into his brother as they drove back to the motel and smiled. “I love you, Dean.”
Pride
“It’s just a stupid trophy,” Dean pouted in the front seat.
“Yeah, but it’s my trophy and you can’t have it.” Sam grinned as he held up the soccer trophy in between the seats. “I played my butt off, and I’m totally keeping this next to my bed every night.”
“Be careful or you might find that trophy shoved up –“
“Dean, can it.” John looked over at Sam between the seats and ruffled his hair. “You played a great game, Sammy. I’m proud of you.”
Sam looked up at his father, and the smile he had nearly split his face in two. “Thanks, Dad.” He then sat back and kept the trophy on his lap, closing his eyes and remembering the great game he had played.
Sloth
Sam was stretched out on the only bed in the motel room, holding the remote control and flipping between stations as the air conditioner was aimed directly on his body. He had been there all day, barely moving as it was too hot to move. It was too hot to think, which is how Sam ended up zoning out eventually while watching a soap opera.
Finally, Dean came back into the room, rubbing a towel over his head. “You planning on laying there all day, Sammy? The pool’s great.”
“I don’t want to swim.”
“Suit yourself. But there are some really hot chicks out there in bikinis. You’re sixteen. You should be out there with them, not in here watching… dude, is that…?”
“I’m channel surfing.”
“God, you’re such a girl. Turn the damn thing off and get outside and see of one of those girls’ll invite you back to their room and make you into a man.”
“It’s too hot.”
Dean sighed and grabbed the condom out of his bag and stuck it into his pocket. “Suit yourself, but you’re getting your own dinner. Don’t wait up.” And with that he was gone, leaving Sam to just sigh and change the channel.
Wrath
Sam was four when he got to play on the beach for the first time in his life. His dad had even made a big deal of getting Sam a little bucket that would make a castle when he packed it full of wet sand and then turned it over.
The mean little boy a few feet away, however, was jealous and came over and kicked the castle down, then stuck his tongue out and ran away. Dean hugged him while Sam cried, and then Sam watched as Dean snuck over and took out his little knife and slashed the kid’s beach ball when it bounced too close their way.
John might have yelled at Dean after that and packed them up, but Sam snuggled into his brother as they drove back to the motel and smiled. “I love you, Dean.”
Pride
“It’s just a stupid trophy,” Dean pouted in the front seat.
“Yeah, but it’s my trophy and you can’t have it.” Sam grinned as he held up the soccer trophy in between the seats. “I played my butt off, and I’m totally keeping this next to my bed every night.”
“Be careful or you might find that trophy shoved up –“
“Dean, can it.” John looked over at Sam between the seats and ruffled his hair. “You played a great game, Sammy. I’m proud of you.”
Sam looked up at his father, and the smile he had nearly split his face in two. “Thanks, Dad.” He then sat back and kept the trophy on his lap, closing his eyes and remembering the great game he had played.
Sloth
Sam was stretched out on the only bed in the motel room, holding the remote control and flipping between stations as the air conditioner was aimed directly on his body. He had been there all day, barely moving as it was too hot to move. It was too hot to think, which is how Sam ended up zoning out eventually while watching a soap opera.
Finally, Dean came back into the room, rubbing a towel over his head. “You planning on laying there all day, Sammy? The pool’s great.”
“I don’t want to swim.”
“Suit yourself. But there are some really hot chicks out there in bikinis. You’re sixteen. You should be out there with them, not in here watching… dude, is that…?”
“I’m channel surfing.”
“God, you’re such a girl. Turn the damn thing off and get outside and see of one of those girls’ll invite you back to their room and make you into a man.”
“It’s too hot.”
Dean sighed and grabbed the condom out of his bag and stuck it into his pocket. “Suit yourself, but you’re getting your own dinner. Don’t wait up.” And with that he was gone, leaving Sam to just sigh and change the channel.