Sam sat on the bleachers. Dean was flirting with some cheerleader, the sun shining on his face, but his smile made it look like it came from him. And it made Sam smile too for a moment. But it didn't last long. Something deep inside him stirred, hatred creeping through his veins. Why was Dean always so goddamn happy? It was like nothing fazed him. He just did what Dad said. No questions asked. Didn't he know how screwed up they were?
Dean didn't need to be looking at his little brother to know that he was staring at him. He could practically feel his eyes boring into his head. Sammy just didn't understand. Dean knew the kid was miserable.
Knew he was pissed too.
Pissed that they were in another town in another new school. Pissed at their father for not being there, and that he hadn't quite left enough money for food. And now he was pissed at him, and damn if Dean didn't feel that way too. He just didn't see the point in complaining about it. Their Dad already had plenty to worry about, without them adding to it.
Refocusing on the cheerleader he realised he hadn't heard a word she'd said. It was quite possibly something to do with school…or maybe it was about her hair. Wasn't like he was going to remember her name tomorrow. Hell he couldn't remember it now, and she was looking at him expectantly. There was only one thing for it. He flashed her that all-winning smile of his, it had saved him on more than one occasion.
The smile becoming a smirk as he felt her hand press flat against his abdomen, and then she was tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, her arms slipping under his jacket and around his waist. He leaned down into the kiss.
The way Dean saw it, Sammy could have his misery, but he wasn't going to play it that way.