Another stupid thing I wrote for Misha, who is a stupid liar face and I hate her.
Dean doesn't even have to look at his brother to know the answer is fuck you. Clearly, Sam is not in the mood to joke around, which annoys Dean for reasons he can't exactly explain. He glowers into the darkness of the road in front of them, grumbling something about assholes and it being really late. He wants Sam to acknowledge his need to be entertained, or else he really will fall asleep at the wheel.
Sam just rolls his eyes. It's three in the morning, and he wants to sleep. He can't figure out why Dean kept driving instead of parking at a motel, but he wasn't going to argue; it was Dean's prerogative, and Sam would be damned if he mentioned it.
Dean's trying to make another joke, but he's too tired to actually be funny, trying to concentrate on staying between the lines of the road. As difficult as it is, he manages for another twenty minutes before pulling over to the side of the road. Sam is jolted out of his nap by the screeching of tires and the shuddering of the car as it slams to a halt. He obviously doesn't understand what is going on, and in his crankiness, he lashes out. "So instead of sleeping in beds we're going to risk our asses on the side of the road?" He snaps, giving Dean the best bitchface of his life.
Dean is completely silent, staring off into the road. If Sam weren't so tired, he'd be concerned; Dean doesn't usually act like this, even when he's dead tired. But no, Sam is pretty pissed, and when Dean doesn't answer him he smacks him in the shoulder, more angry than he should be about his brother's attitude today. Dean doesn't react, still as stone, the only signs that he's actually alive the slight flare of his nostrils with every inhale.
Sam becomes nervous when minutes pass, and Dean still hasn't responded. He doesn't know what's going on, palms the gun on the seat next to him. Obviously, he's not going to shoot Dean, but he'd rather have something more substantial in hand in case he has to knock him out. "Dean?" His tone is tentative, obvious concern melding perfectly with dubiousness.
Another minute passes in tense silence, and then Dean is a blur. He's grabbing Sam and shouting gibberish and Sam freaks out,screaming out one long syllable before trying to pry his laughing brother off of him. Wait... laughing?
Dean sags back against the drivers seat,cackling and holding his stomach. Sam is dumbfounded for about three seconds before he launches himself across the bench seat, hands going straight for his big brother's throat. Dean keeps laughing his ass off, fending off the mess of limbs assaulting him. "Your face-!" He's losing it, and Sam would be overjoyed to see how happy his brother looks under pretty much any other circumstances. But he's pissed.
Dean doesn't even care, laughing so hard he's tearing up and gripping the steering wheel for his life. Sam looks like he's going to cut something, glaring at Dean with more vehemence than his face seems capable of handling. He doesn't say anything until Dean calms down, which ends up taking almost five minutes. "You think you're so funny." It's a statement that bleeds with sarcasm, Sam's tone as chastising as he can manage with his current energy level.
Dean just grins at his baby brother, revving the impala's engine and putting her back into drive. Now that he's guaranteed Sam's attention, he's more than ready to tackle the road ahead. He can still feel Sam's glare boring into the side of his head, so he winks at him as provocatively as he can and snorts out an ugly laugh. "Bitch, I'm hilarious."