Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Sam, Dean
Challenge/Prompt: spn_bigpretzel DeW: Bunker Domestic Scenes
Word Count: 401 (Sorry so long this time!)
Date Written: 20 November 2016
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Kripke, not the author, and are used without permission.
He would have expected this behavior if they had bought a stove, but they had no need to buy a stove. The bunker had come equipped with many appliances but not a stove. It had even had several of these, but they'd all been taken out the last time they'd been attacked here. And yet Dean had never seemed to realize their usage until today when Sam had proposed they use one of their fake credit cards to purchase a new one. Dean had been grinning like an idiot ever since.
Now they seat and wait. Sam worries rather he's gotten the machine hooked correctly or if they missed anything. He worries if maybe there might be a spirit attached to this new machine, as crazy as it seems, but that's their life. It's also why he insisted on buying a new one and not settling for a used.
Dean leans across from him against one of the older machines. Sam supposes he could have worked on fixing it, but they're always so busy doing everything else, and often saving the world, that he hadn't been able to find time to look at any of them in the last two weeks. And now they're out of clean clothes save for those on their bodies.
Dean waggles his eyebrows at him, still grinning goofily. "What?" Sam demands, tired of his brother's chicklike behavior today. Dean likes to tease him for being the more feminine of the two, but today, fussing over the new washer and what it means for them, Dean's definitely been the woman between them -- not that Sam will call him on it, although he could.
The washer stops just in time to save Sammy from saying something he might once more later regret. The brothers turn toward it together. Carefully, Sam lifts the lid and peers inside. "Damn."
"What?" Dean asks, edging closer and looking apprehensively over his shoulder.
"I knew I missed something," Sammy mumbles, lifting out one of Dean's favorite shirts and preparing himself mentally for his brother's tirade.
To his surprise, Dean just shrugs. When Sammy looks at him, he's still grinning despite the clothes dyed pink because of one of Sam's red flannels. "What?" Sam finally dares to ask again.
"Normalcy, dude," Dean answers, his grin wide and unmarred. "Normalcy." And at last, supposing his brother does have a point after all, Sam grins, too.