Fic! Oh my god! I feel like I haven't posted any just-written fic in a while. This one's not huge, but I kind of have a soft spot for it, because I've actually been to this place and done this stuff. Anyway, thanks to my darling braintwin for the song selection and quick once-through, even though she had to prop her eyelids up with toothpicks.
Water and Poetry [PG] ~600
Sam, Dean - gen fluffiness
There’s an old ice cream stand off of I-95 in Connecticut. The sign is falling down and flaking bits of white paint, but it’s still cheerful, red and yellow lettering – round, smiling kid-faces. Hardy’s Ice Cream, it says. And then in smaller letters underneath, Since 1957.
Sam orders for both of them, getting himself a chocolate-dipped waffle cone with old-fashioned vanilla bean ice cream, and a ‘freaking boring cup of chocolate for the loser with the car’. Ignoring him, Dean leans against the Impala with his legs crossed in front of him and tilts his head back.
They sky’s hazy with early evening light and the mist of low clouds, turning red then purple then a dark, stormy grey closer to the horizon line. Dean thinks it might rain soon and quietly thanks god it’s not a business day. The interstate’s bad enough going through this part of the state, but raining and on a weekday? Dean would rather stab himself to death with a Mickey Mouse spoon.
“Move over,” Sam says, jostling Dean with his hip and handing him the cup of ice cream. Some of it’s already dripping down the side and into the napkins, making Dean’s hand sticky and sweet. He idly licks it off, staring straight ahead, and that’s when he notices the little bridge.
“Hey,” he says, cocking his head at the pathway. “Wanna walk?” Sam nods, biting the top off the first scoop of ice cream in a way that makes Dean think of summers in Ohio.
They follow the dirt path over a small, covered bridge that rises above a tricking stream, and through a patch of woods. When the trees clear, they’re at the edge of an old pond, stagnant with disuse and green along the edges with colonies of algae.
Sam settles himself on the edge despite the dirt-covered ground, long legs stretched out in front of him so the ends of his shoes stick out over the water. He’s got a smear of ice cream across his chin, and he looks about twelve all over again. Dean snorts to himself, licking his spoon clean and walking around the pond towards the decrepit stage at the far end. There’s still an ‘x’ of tape where the mike would be during concerts, so Dean climbs up and stands on it.
“Gonna sing?” Sam asks from across the way, grinning and using his napkin to wipe his mouth. When Dean nods and makes hit me with your best shot hands, “How about ‘I Look Good in Leather’?”
Dean tugs on his jacket sleeve and arches an eyebrow. “Why, Sammy, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He pauses, looks down at himself. “Not that I can blame you, I am pretty hot.”
Sam doesn’t rise to the bait, mouth stretched wide and happy as he twirls his finger. “Come on, Dean. Don’t pussy out on me now. I paid for the ice cream, now give me a show.”
The same tide of competitiveness rises up in Dean as when they were kids, and he doesn’t think twice about shucking his coat off to the side, putting his empty ice cream cup down next to it, and then making a complete fool of himself. He struts around the stage like Mick Jagger on codeine, all high knee steps and wobbly hip thrusts.
He doesn’t stop when Sam nearly falls into the pond from laughing, and he doesn’t stop when the light drizzle of the evening sets in – he just adds in a little extra swagger and belts louder.
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extremefangirl's journal to see her Mighty Picspam of Awesome, please click here and treat yourself. She's, like, some sort of goddess. And there're seven parts dedicated entirely to Dean, homg!
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*FALLS OVER*
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I dunno about the sockpuppet thing...I don't think I have enough time/creativity tomorrow, but feel free to stop on by.
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They are possibly the cutest things EVER! EVER EVER! With the ice cream and the singing and oh oh. *draws hearts*
Is that a real ice cream stand?? I live in Connecticut right off 95 (I HATE 95, omg. I feel Dean's pain.) and now I totally want to go there and get ice cream and think about the Winchester boys. And it's all your fault. What exit is it off, if it's real?
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I don't think it's actually called Hardy's, but I know there's one a little closer to the Rhode Island border - exit three, by URI. It's only open seasonally, but it's all ramshackle and cute and it advertises "FIFTY TWO FLAVORS" in bright red, flaky letters. Very mom and pop.
The one I actually went to that this is based off of was in Mass and we had to run across the street to get to where the bridge and abandoned pond was. But I did get up on the stage and boogie. *BOOGIES*
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*♥'s the quiet moments*
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Jared and Jensen's love is clearly the cutest thing since puppies (and it's heart melting)
The fic made me go "Aww" at college. it's ok,though, people already think i'm insane.
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I love that Dean is a stickler for the good old fashioned chocolate in a cup. That little piece of characterization makes my heart melt like icecream in the hot sun (did you see what I did there? Did ya? Did ya? \o/)
Aelkrhtqjdhrfjghdwrr sticky fingers and licking spoons clean!! With those lips! And heee at young sammy. I always knew he was the true messy eater of the two. I am a lot in love with your dean in this. A lot, a lot.
I am downloading I look good in leather and thinking about Dean singing it and it is such a dean song and thank you for rekindling my love for this song!! SWAGGER!! Baby I love you, I love your writing, your characters and your stories and I loved this and thanks for sending it to me because I would have hated to miss it. I will rec this to every person I see. DID YOU READ THE LEATHER STORY BY MEL? DID YOU? WHY NOT? *thunks them in the head with it* =DD
and lol, my icon is swearing *censors*