Prompt – Is That What I Think It Is?

jayadawnyvonne-art prompted:

What about a short of tiny drunk dean with big sam?

This combined with another prompt gave me the idea to write a scene like this out 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 kiddo Sam, who found Bobby’s whiskey hidden in the house, and now they’re going to share!

(You can find the other half of the prompt here)


“Check it out.”

Dean looked up from where he had been fiddling with a bent paperclip to hide his boredom. He found the motion strangely relaxing, and when he eventually wore the metal down it would separate into two separate pieces.

There was a small pile of metal rods next to Dean to show how long he’d been sitting there playing around. It was a good way to entertain himself while Sam did homework.

Dean hadn’t even noticed that his younger– but much larger– brother had run out of the room for a bathroom trip, and now the kid was standing there with a small metal flask in his hand. His eyebrows climbed his forehead.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah!” Sam grinned broadly, puffing his chest out proudly. “I found this stuck between a cookbook and a book on Latin in the kitchen, and figured we can sneak it back out there before dad and Bobby get home, they’ll never know!”

Dean shoved the remains of the staples off his lap and jumped to his feet. “Pass some this way,” he urged, kicking his staples into a pile.

Twisting the cap off, Sam judged the size of the flask compared to Dean. “Think this’ll be enough?” he asked as he poured a drop into the cap and held it out.

“Perfect,” Dean said, looking into the cap as he took it from Sam. He knew it was hard for his younger but much larger brother to judge the amount of food and drink when they were sharing, which was how he ended up with a bucketful of whiskey. 

There was no way Dean would be finishing it, but he’d give it a good try.

Once Sam was sure that Dean was set, he took a sip from the flask. Then gagged. “You like this stuff?” he sputtered.

With a grin, Dean hefted up the cap and took a big gulp from it. He wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. “You bet, gigantor!” he called up teasingly. “Good thing I’m the one with the bigger serving!”

Sam rolled his eyes, looking away from Dean for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking at the flask. It took every ounce of strength in him to take another sip, and swallow it without spitting it out.

The burning warmth of the whiskey settled pleasantly in his middle. Once he got past the bitter taste, it wasn’t a bad drink.

He just had to get used to it.