notes: Written for loweryourwand and because of that inestimable writing meme. Slightly wincesty, but only if you squint. Double drabble length.
That's What (He Meant To Say)
Sam rolled over, noted the dull red numbers on the alarm clock (it blinked steadily – 03:44) and groaned.
“It's almost four, Dean. Go back to bed.”
He heard a low laugh from somewhere over on Dean's side of the room.
“I've got to hand it to you, Sammy. I didn't think you had the orchestras-”
“-to pull a prank like this, but damn. You could have just asked, you know.”
"What? What are you talking about?"
“The boxers, sunshine. You telling me you didn't steal my boxers?”
Sam was aghast. “What! No! Definitely not!” He hid in the pillow to hide the blush on his face.
He heard a sigh coming from the other side of the room.
“Pass me some?” Dean asked, and Sam flipped back over on his bed to face Dean.
“What! Definitely not!”
“Is that the only thing you know how to say, Sammy? Damn! And here I go thinking that college education stuck with you.”
Sam crawled to the end of his bed, dug through Dean's bag, and threw some underwear at him. He was satisfied when it hit Dean in the face.
Dean waggled his eyebrows and Sam blushed some more.