Title: Wasting Time
Author: luvspnl
Characters/Pairings: Dean(17), Sam(13)
Minx Prompt #25: teasing, curfew, school
Implement: hand
Summary: Sam sets out to make a point.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Title from the song by Jack Johnson.
Disclaimer: Maybe for my birthday, yes?


Sam wasn’t the nicest of little brothers. He didn’t try to be. He was pretty nice, considering who he had to deal with, though.

But Dean was a horrible big brother. At least in Sam’s opinion. Most of the time, well some of the time.

Like, this whole week that their father was gone, for instance. Dean, complete brat.

You see, when Dean tells him to clean up after himself, he has to do it. When he’s told to get ready for school or head off to bed, he has to do that too. Or else Dean will tell Dad, and Sam doesn’t want that.

Do his homework, clear his plate, his days to do the dishes, keep to his curfew, head off to shower and to get his shoes off the furniture, Sam has to do all of that!

But Dean doesn’t do any of that!

Correction, Dean clears his plate. Sometimes takes seconds. That’s about it.

But what did Sammy get if he asked from something?

            “Mind your business,” Dean had said, shoving him aside.

Mind his business? Well, then Dean should mind his own business. If Sam couldn’t make one request, he didn’t see why he’d have to listen to Dean’s.

            “Sammy! You’re supposed to be in bed,” Dean growled when he’d returned from buying them some more food.

            “Mind your own business,” Sam had replied.

            “Excuse me?”

Okay, maybe that hadn’t of been the best of responses. He should have kept his mouth shut or gone off in a huff like he usually did.

            “You deaf? Leave me alone, I can’t hear with you barking in the same room.”

And why did he have to push it? Why didn’t Sam just learn to keep his mouth shut? As if he didn’t get enough ‘talks’ from their father about that very thing.

Dean scoffed.

            “Nice try, idiot. Now, go to bed!”

            “I’m not tired. If you’re tired, then you head to bed.”

The slap to the back of his head didn’t surprise Sam in the slightest.

            “I’m taking a shower, you better be in bed when I get out, if you know what’s good for you!”

It wasn’t that Sam had a death wish. He just had a point to make. So when Dean came out of the bathroom and found him munching away to some chips and still mindlessly planted in front of the computer, Sam can’t say he was surprised by the consequences.

Even if he didn’t think it fair of his brother to be such a freaking hypocrite!

            “You brat!”

Dean came up behind him, dressed for bed already in his pajama bottoms – unlike Sam who still had the clothes he’d worn to school on. He grabbed the bag of chips out of Sam’s hands and tossed them onto the armchair besides them. Then he made a grab for his brother, but Sam dodged him.

            “Fine! I’m going to bed. That show’s stupid anyway!” Sam said, trying to make it around the couch and into the hall and to his room before Dean could reach him. He knew that he’d been pressing his luck, but he wasn’t just going to stand still and let things happen.

Dean grabbed him before he was even halfway to the hallway.

            “I don’t think so!” Dean growled in his ear, wrapping his arm around his waist and easily lifting his slim form up and back to the couch.

            “Put me down, Dean!”

            “No problem,” Dean said, taking a sit and placing Sam down and over his lap.


            “You feel like acting like a little kid, then you get the privilege of getting your ass beat like one too.”

Sam groaned. His brother was so very unfair!

Dean started spanking him pretty hard, that the fact he still had jeans on became just a bogus protection.

            “Ow, Dean! Knock it off!” Sam whined, wriggling around like crazy over Dean’s lap.

            “You’re the one that better knock off with the attitude, little man. I don’t care for it.”

Sam was just about to state how he didn’t care for getting his butt beat. Perhaps when he wasn’t so amply set to receive more swats.

            “Okay! Dean, alright! I’ll go to bed, I’m going!”

            “Damn right you will,” Dean told him, landing a final hit and releasing him.

Sam moved slowly to stand up, dropping his legs to the ground and using Dean and the couch to get back upright.

He sniffed.

            “You think that was enough to reason for you to cut the crap?” Dean asked him, leaning back in the couch and looking sternly up back at his brother.

He even crossed his arms over his chest, all Dad like.

Sam frowned.


            “Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll go to bed.”

            “And start listening to me, without the truckload of shit you haul around.”

            “And I’ll stop with the attitude.”

            “Alright then!” Dean announced, getting to his feet. He dropped an arm across Sam’s shoulders and began to walk them both towards their room.

Sam leaned in towards his jerk of a brother and enjoyed the half hug.

Dean led him right up to his bed and even pulled back the covers.

            “Now, into Bed, you little cherub you. And not another word. Hey, you left me some chips, right? Cause, you know sour creams are my favorite. I thought you didn’t even like them, because of the onions, you do know that had onions right? I better got put those away, if Dad comes home and there’s ants all over the place we’ll never hear the end of it.”

Sam grimaced, hoping that his brother was just teasing him. The chips sure hadn’t tasted like onions. Oh hell!