So here we are again, another week, another story (surely it's only a matter of time before I get burn-out?)
Anyway, this one's just a bit of fun dealing with the stresses of being a regular teenager etc. My first foray in the teenage-world of the boys but I kinda liked it! As for the titles? Well, hopefully they'll start to make some sort of sense as we go along, although it's pretty much just me messing about!
As ever folks...enjoy!
Demon Revenge.
…Showing Now at a Movie Theatre Near You
The video store was full of aisles, row upon row of glossy cases staring out at him as he passed by; comedy, children, action, foreign. He was interested in none of them and the determination with which he crossed the store was enough to leave even Dean trailing his wake – although that was probably as much to do with the denim-short wearing blonde lazily browsing the romance section as anything. Sam however, was after the horror movies and not just any either.
Quickly digging a hand into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out the carefully folded square of paper he'd hidden away during chemistry, looking again at the delicate lettering written across it, a heart dotted over every 'i' and the smell of strawberry gel pen lifting up off the page.
Demon Revenge 6? It asked casually in answer to his all but mumbled, semi life-changing question from earlier when he'd approached her by the lockers as her friends had slunk off to class and tried to stop his hands from sweating to the point of dropping his books.
"Hey, Lindsay?" he'd begun, quickly clearing his throat as his voice had cracked awkwardly. She'd gazed across at him unassumingly, a slight smile across gloss-covered lips. Sam hadn't been able to take his eyes off them.
"Yes?"
He had almost heard Dean's voice screaming in his head. Stop staring dude. Ask her.
"Do you, uh, want to go to the movies?" he'd thrown in a shrug, going for super-casual but judging from the way she'd blinked at him it had probably looked more like a twitch, "Friday night, maybe?"
"Sure."
She had said sure. Sure. She hadn't even thought about it. Sure.
"Great," he'd beamed, trying to not to gush out the excited babble he'd felt building inside his chest, "Okay."
He had a date. The note had followed shortly afterwards, pushed onto his desk by her perfectly manicured fingers and followed by a hopeful gaze.
Demon Revenge 6?
He nodded. Demon Revenge 6. Which only left him with one tiny problem…
The Demon Revenge movies were almost the first ones he saw as he crossed into the horror aisle, stacked out in front of everything else in an obvious attempt to capitalise on the release of the series' latest offering. Judging from the volume they'd put out it was a popular franchise, which just served to make Sam feel all the more like a backwards loser. The truth was he'd only ever heard of the demon revenge movies in passing, from excited chatter in the corridors and during one art class when Robbie Crooker had decided to insert the movie's title character into the visual landscapes they were studying, leading to a long and painful conversation up by Mr. Paterson's desk about why he didn't, actually, need a psychiatric evaluation with the school counsellor. Whether he'd got one or not Sam didn't know, but what Sam had realised was that somewhere in the constant moving from school to school and in his limited to non-existent social life, he'd completely missed out on the whole demon revenge experience.
At least however, that was something he could rectify and so taking a deep breath he reached out and collected up all of the first five movies knowing that as long as he got through them all by Friday night, there was no way he could possibly show himself up in front of Lindsay. Well, not on the demon revenge-front anyway.
Arms full, Sam crossed towards the counter, letting the cases fall into a haphazard pile in front of him and using his hands to stop them from tumbling to the floor altogether as a bored looking worker shuffled forward to check them out, crumpling a finished packet of Cheetos into a ball and wiping hands across his logo-emblazoned shirt. Picking up the first case his eyes flickered over the title and then back to Sam again, standing expectantly before him,
"You got to be thirteen to check these out," he offered lazily across the counter, seemingly not taking Sam's recent and rapid growth-spurt into the bargain, nor the fact that he was clearly way past thirteen. Sam took it as an insult,
"I'm fifteen."
But if the guy was going to be a dick about it, then fine.
Turning back into the bulk of the store Sam cast around the various aisles finally letting out a sigh as his gaze settled on Dean, one arm resting casually against the top of the romantic comedy shelf, his attention fully-focused on the blonde who was twisting a strand of hair about her finger and smiling coyly,
"Dean?"
Mid-flirtation or not the second Sam's voice drifted across the room towards him, Dean looked up, quickly scanning the space and settling on his brother's lanky form over by the cash register. Seeing he wasn't in any trouble the expectant glance furrowed into a frown. Can't you see I'm busy here? Sam ignored him, after all when it came to Dean and women he was always busy somewhere.
"I need the card," he called instead, watching Dean pause briefly before throwing the woman an apologetic look and saying something that made her giggle and blush before turning and crossing towards his younger brother with a wide grin. He dug a hand in his pocket as he drew near, handing it across the desk and then blinking down in surprise at the stack of movies lying in front of him.
"Demon revenge?" he questioned disbelievingly, snorting in vague amusement before dropping his voice a little, "If you're that desperate to see demons Sam, dad can probably help you know."
Rolling his eyes Sam stepped forward and pulled the stack towards him, watching in surprise as Dean beat him to handing over the money, producing and passing it across the desk before the fifteen-year old could protest. Sam tempered his frown immediately, not wanting to seem too put-out with the older brother who had after all, just allowed him to save his own funds for Friday night. At least now he wouldn't be forced into the vaguely humiliating experience of asking his dad for popcorn-money.
Lindsay would probably want sweet instead of salted. Girls liked sweet.
Turning towards the door and watching as Dean silently slid a packet of M&Ms into his jacket pocket, Sam led the way back to the car, having to wait briefly as his older brother finalised his own plans with blonde of the month #3. He came out grinning, flapping a hand absently at a tall anorak-clad man positioned by the video shop door and trying to discreetly sell the latest counterfeit films to the coming and going customers. He scarpered quickly as the manager stamped across the store and swung his head out,
"Hey, you!" he shouted at the rapidly retreating figure, "Come back one more time and I'm calling the cops!"
Dean ignored the commotion easily, throwing Sam a grin as he drew towards the passenger door and opened it for him silently,
"Never a dull day here, huh?" he observed dryly, gazing up and down the little main street before rounding to the driver's side and watching in amusement as Sam struggled awkwardly into his seat whilst trying to balance the movie-stack carefully in his hands. Dean's deliberately heavy entrance sent them all into the foot-well.
"Dean!"
Sam's irritation however did not seem to dampen his brother's good mood any, earning him only a widened grin in response,
"Come on Sammy," he chirped brightly, waggling his fingers through the windscreen as the blonde he'd been hitting on sauntered out of the store and mimed holding a phone to her ear, call me. "We should be celebrating," he continued, tilting his head in appreciation as she sashayed her way down the street, "I mean, I've got a date, you've got a date – ,"
Sam blinked, startled,
"What?" he barked, trying to keep the alarm from his voice and feeling his cheeks begin to flush as Dean finally turned his gaze in his younger brother's direction, "Why would you think that?"
"The fact you're blushing like a schoolgirl for one…" Sam bit his lip, he was. Damn. "…and the fact you rented every single one of those crappy movies for another thing, which I assume means you're going to see the latest one at some point – hopefully with the girl who wrote that note you were staring at back there,"
Sam paused, uncertain what exactly to say. For someone who pretended their entire existence rotated around either sex or violence, Dean could actually be pretty insightful. Still, he didn't need to know everything and so instead of confirming the theory either way Sam simply offered up a shrug,
"What makes you think a girl wrote it?"
As soon as he'd said it he wished he hadn't, drawing a look of mock-alarm as Dean bent forward and flipped on the engine,
"Guys don't write with strawberry-scented pens, dude," he paused suddenly, glancing over with exaggerated suspicion, "Unless…"
"It's a girl Dean," Sam groaned quickly, realising that in less than a minute Dean had managed to back him into honesty, "Her name's Lindsay Fuller."
Pulling away from the kerbside with a glance in his mirror, Dean frowned thoughtfully, one elbow leaning casually out of the window and letting the warm summer breeze blow up the sleeve of his jacket,
"The cute little strawberry blonde you came out of school with?"
"Yeah," Sam shrugged, dropping his gaze awkwardly into his lap. Not only was Dean insightful he also had the eyesight of a hawk, especially when it came to his little brother and especially when it came to girls. Mix the two together and, well, the rest was inevitable. He seemed impressed,
"Nice. Good work Sammy."
"Thanks," it was a grudging reply at best and said with a laugh of vague derision. Good work was the sort of thing his wood shop teacher said to him when he'd made a working joint, not a comment he expected for having scored a date. Still, when it came to work and play Dean often struggled to see the difference, as far as he was concerned they could easily be one and the same.
"My little boy's all grown-up," Dean continued wryly, the comment laced with false emotion,
Sam squirmed,
"Shut up Dean,"
For a second everything went quiet and then abruptly Dean dug a hand into his pocket, pulling something free with a rustle and offering it across. He was grinning again and Sam couldn't help but smile back in return. Sometimes it seemed, life didn't totally suck.
"M&M?"