Peppermint Pain - quadrabble
Dec. 14th, 2014 08:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberdreamsA quadrabble using the challenge word peppermint
Authors:
999alena, 
amberdreams, dizzojay and theymp (not necessarily in that order)
Word count: 400
Peppermint Pain
Sam fumed.
Part of him wanted to ignore the pained moans coming from Dean’s direction, but he couldn’t deny that part of him was revelling in it.
He’d warned Dean not to touch his peppermint creams. He’d been looking forward to treating himself; he’d have even shared them. But the jerktastic great gannet had pilfered the lot, all two boxes of them, while Sam was at the library.
Every. Last. One.
But after Dean’s grease-laden breakfast and mammoth lunch, Sam’s candy had pushed him over the edge into a world of pain.
Which Sam wasn’t smug about.
Not at all.
--------------
Surely there is only so much that a brother should have to put up with, thought Sam savagely. His initial amusement at his brother's uncomfortable predicament had soon paled as the physical manifestations of the situation had sunk in. Or rather wafted past.
"Dean!" barked Sam, in response to another trumpet-like announcement, and a distinctly unpleasant scent, if tinged with a hint of peppermint. "Please try to control yourself."
"Sorry, Sammy," groaned Dean, cradling his distended belly.
Sam pulled his very best 'bitch face'.
"Well, now you know how I feel when you eat burritos," muttered Dean under his breath.
--------------
Sam sat hunched in the diner’s corner booth, head down and quietly muttering under his breath. His toxic sibling sat across from him apparently oblivious to their splendid isolation and the sensory overload currently engulfing the diner.
A wave of icy disapproval emanated from their fellow diners huddled into the remaining five percent of the room whilst another pepperminty blast trumpeted from his brother’s body, spreading out to fill every inch of space.
Dean watched Sam squirm in his seat; flashes of red could be glimpsed beneath his security blanket of hair. He held back a grin.
‘Payback, Sammy, payback’…
--------------
Castiel was in a state of despondency. Every time he thought he was starting to understand human behaviour, the Winchesters would throw him a curve ball. Still, at least he knew the right idiom for this context, he mused - the only thing he felt even slightly grateful to Metatron for.
He stared gloomily at the kettle, waiting for it to boil, his shoulders hunched against the incomprehensible scene behind him.
Sam had been laughing hysterically for several minutes now, while Dean was grumbling and protesting.
“It’s not funny, Sam.”
All Castiel had done was offer them both some peppermint tea.
--------------
Authors:
999alena, dizzojay and theymp (not necessarily in that order)Word count: 400
Peppermint Pain
Sam fumed.
Part of him wanted to ignore the pained moans coming from Dean’s direction, but he couldn’t deny that part of him was revelling in it.
He’d warned Dean not to touch his peppermint creams. He’d been looking forward to treating himself; he’d have even shared them. But the jerktastic great gannet had pilfered the lot, all two boxes of them, while Sam was at the library.
Every. Last. One.
But after Dean’s grease-laden breakfast and mammoth lunch, Sam’s candy had pushed him over the edge into a world of pain.
Which Sam wasn’t smug about.
Not at all.
--------------
Surely there is only so much that a brother should have to put up with, thought Sam savagely. His initial amusement at his brother's uncomfortable predicament had soon paled as the physical manifestations of the situation had sunk in. Or rather wafted past.
"Dean!" barked Sam, in response to another trumpet-like announcement, and a distinctly unpleasant scent, if tinged with a hint of peppermint. "Please try to control yourself."
"Sorry, Sammy," groaned Dean, cradling his distended belly.
Sam pulled his very best 'bitch face'.
"Well, now you know how I feel when you eat burritos," muttered Dean under his breath.
--------------
Sam sat hunched in the diner’s corner booth, head down and quietly muttering under his breath. His toxic sibling sat across from him apparently oblivious to their splendid isolation and the sensory overload currently engulfing the diner.
A wave of icy disapproval emanated from their fellow diners huddled into the remaining five percent of the room whilst another pepperminty blast trumpeted from his brother’s body, spreading out to fill every inch of space.
Dean watched Sam squirm in his seat; flashes of red could be glimpsed beneath his security blanket of hair. He held back a grin.
‘Payback, Sammy, payback’…
--------------
Castiel was in a state of despondency. Every time he thought he was starting to understand human behaviour, the Winchesters would throw him a curve ball. Still, at least he knew the right idiom for this context, he mused - the only thing he felt even slightly grateful to Metatron for.
He stared gloomily at the kettle, waiting for it to boil, his shoulders hunched against the incomprehensible scene behind him.
Sam had been laughing hysterically for several minutes now, while Dean was grumbling and protesting.
“It’s not funny, Sam.”
All Castiel had done was offer them both some peppermint tea.
--------------