"I still can't believe you're doing this, man." Sam says, followed by another doubtful laugh.
"It's not like I want to," Dean says angrily. "I can't believe dad couldn't get me out of this. I mean seriously? Community service?"
"I mean, it's not like you don't deserve it… You brought a freaking knife to school Dean." Sam tries to hide another laugh,
"Well of course I did, you did too!" Dean says gruffly.
"Yeah but I didn't threaten a teacher with it." Sam replies.
"The dick had it coming! You saw the way he was staring at us guys in gym…" Dean shudders. "It was just wrong, man. I mean he's older than dad." Sam smiles at Dean.
"Thank god I never had him. Well looks like your uh, ride is here…" Sam trails off as a large school bus pulls up with bright letters painted on the side reading "Camp Freewill" and Dean lets out a long groan, and Sam continues, "Have fun!"
"Bitch." Dean looks at Sam with a glare.
"Jerk!" Sam replies with a lighthearted smile, and Dean gets on the bus.
….
"And that's everything you need to know, camp counselors!" says a woman with a chipper voice and bright coloured scarves worked into her outfit in every way possible, around her neck, in her hair, tied through a belt loop.. Endless bright colors. Dean tries to follow the other counselors, but doesn't get very far when he hears, "you! Excuse me! In the plaid!" the obnoxiously happy voice follows him and a hand with perfectly filed nails clamped down on his arm. Dean stops and turns around with an obviously fake smile on his face.
"Yes?" he says, trying his best to imitate the exuberant voice. The woman's smile falters as she catches onto Dean's mocking tone, but she plasters a smile on even brighter.
"Listen here you little shit." her voice even peppier than before as she hisses into his ear. "I'm doing this job because it pays double what Biggersons offers for people my age. I was going to recap what you missed because you were late doing god knows what with that little hussy you showed up to our little powwow with, but now I'm going to send you to your cabin and you'll have to just figure out the rest on your own. Got it shithead?" Dean smirked,
"I think I'm starting to like you, babe." The smile dropped from her face and the hand on Dean's wrist grew tighter until he could feel the precisely filed nailed digging into his skin through this shirt, and this time it was the smile on his face that started to fade. He was about to say something when she shoved his arm away from her hard enough to make him stumble.
"Cabin Ten. And my name isn't 'babe'. It's Meg." The cheerful voice was back but her bright smile didn't reach her eyes as she pointed towards the cabin furthest away from the rest.
"Great, thanks." Dean murmurs as he walks towards the cabin, shifting his heavy bag on his shoulder. Walking to the cabin, he tried as little as possible to look around. Dean hesitates at the doorway, only now considering the fact that he might have a roommate. How is he supposed to bring chicks back to his room if he has a roommate? The idea annoys him, and he slams the door open. At first he doesn't see anyone, and he feels a bit embarrassed about the dramatic entrance. He takes a hesitant step in, and jumps when the door closes behind him. Dean spins around to see a brunet a few inches shorter than him leaning against the door. Dean stares at him, and for the first time while looking at another guy, he feels a twitch in his pants. He realizes he hasn't said anything yet, so he stutters out,
"well, uh… top or bottom?" he looks up and rubs his mouth, realizing how stupid that sounded. But the brunet smirks at him and walks over until he's only a foot away from Dean, and he leans in until their faces are almost touching.
"Top." He whispers, his breath smells like whisky and toothpaste. Dean jumps back and glances quickly at the bunkbeds beside them. He looks back at the brunet when he laughs loudly,
"Oh wait—you meant the bunkbeds. Bottom, please."
This is going to be an interesting summer.