Maybe something from the brother’s together universe? I feel like there must be so many good moments during their childhood that we haven’t seen yet!
This combined with another prompt gave me the idea to write a scene from the perspective of smol Dean/big Sam and also from the perspective of tol Dean/smol Sam! That way I get some practice in on the differences between Brothers Saved and Brothers Together, and we all get some cutes.
So here we have teenager Dean, who snitched Bobby’s whiskey from where it was hidden in the house, and now they’re going to share!
(You can find the other half of the prompt here)
“Check it out.”
Sam lazily stretched to work out the kinks in his back from laying flat on the desk for so long while he did homework. Not his homework, naturally, as he hadn’t been able to go to school for a few good years now. He was helping with Dean’s, to try and keep in practice so he didn’t lose his touch for the day he was able to return to class.
Not that he held out much hope that his curse would be lifted after so long like this.
Dean was standing in the doorway of their shared room, and when Sam spotted what he had in his hand with a shit-eating grin, he straightened in place.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“You bet!” Dean proclaimed. He glanced over his shoulder and closed the door to the room, bouncing onto the bed next to the desk Sam was using. “Bobby and dad are going to be out all night, I figured we could take a break from classwork.”
“Dean, you know they’re going to figure out it was you,” Sam scolded, but the look he sent the flask of whiskey was longing. He hadn’t snuck a drink in years, not since their dad’s hunter friend, Fred, had given them some.
“Chill, we’ll be fine,” Dean assured Sam. He twisted the cap off. “They’ll never know the difference, we just have to put it back where it came from and that’s that.”
Pouring out a tiny amount into the cap, Dean judge that to be more than enough for his younger brother. Neither of them was of drinking age, but that didn’t much matter when they were sneaking around behind their dad’s back.
“Give it a shot,” Dean said, sliding the cap over to Sam.
Sam tentatively reached out to pull the cap closer, peering uncertainly into the strong-smelling liquid. He wrinkled his nose, then picked up the cap to take a sip.
And sputtered, spitting out the drop. “You like this stuff?!”
Dean smirked as he took a swig from the flask, partially wishing he was the small one this time, just so he could have more whiskey than was in the small container. “You bet, short stuff,” he said teasingly, able to swallow the bitter drink without flinching.
Sam sighed, sending the bottle cap a disconsolate look. Why couldn’t Bobby have left the beer unattended? At least Sam had that before, and knew he could drink it without a problem.
Taking a deep breath to build himself up to it, Sam scooped up a drop of whiskey in his hand, and determinedly drank it. Again, he nearly spit it out, but forced himself to swallow, the drink leaving a burning trail down his throat.
“Got it,” Sam rasped, having a hard time talking after such a sharp drink.
Dean took pity on him and nudged over a second bottle cap that had been sitting across the desk with Sam’s possessions. It was the cap that held his water from lunch, and Sam quickly grasped it to suck in a drink to cool his throat.
“Maybe it’s stronger because you’re smaller?” Dean mused out loud, taking another drink from the flask.
“No… I can do this,” Sam said, determined. He wasn’t about to miss out on the one chance they got to drink!
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