It’s hard to pinpoint what the fuck is wrong with those boys. That doesn't mean people can't see it.
The big one is always dressed ten years too old, in clothes that are somehow too small. The little one can’t seem to wear a shirt that doesn’t reach past his hands. Their clothes never hang right off of them. Like they weren’t selected from a store, but grabbed quickly from someone else’s drawer.
Where their clothes aren’t ripped, there’s shitty stitching in their place. The younger ones’ seams are much nicer than the olders'. Like more time and care was put into his wardrobe. Their mother must have had a favorite. Not that anyone’s ever met her. Or the boys’ father. The older brother came to the younger ones' parent-teacher meetings.
Eventually people in the podunk town they are staying in learn their names. The older and bigger one is Dean. The younger and smaller one is Sam. Their normal names didn’t match whatever weird ass nonsense those two had going on.
Each of the boys is always reading something strange. Dean carries shooting magazines rolled up in his back pocket. There’s a pen stuck in there too. He makes notes in a gun magazine. The fuck kind of a teenager does that? Sam’s got his own little book. Leather bound journal he guards like it's a little girl’s diary. He’s always making notes in it too. Once Finn Michaels ripped it out of Sam’s hand to finally look inside. He didn’t know what the Hell a shifter was and he knew vampires weren’t real, but Sam’s eerie drawings and scrawled writing could convince him of anything.
They were always beat up from something. Never ending scrapes and scratches and bruises. The moment one of them healed five more of them would pop up. Some people thought it was their dad. From the few snippets the boys ever dropped about him he didn’t sound like a nice man. They had matching scars running up their palms. One weekend Dean came back to school with the cut reopened and stitched up. Tye Noel said it looked like it hurt. Dean said he was strong enough to handle it. He asked where it was from. Dean said it was from a grizzly bear. The closest grizzly habitat was three states away.
Sam always looks a little out of place. He’s a little too quiet and a little too tall for his age, a head and a half over the rest of his seventh grade class. Paired with his lingering stares and mumbled words, Sam looks like a proper freak. And shit, man, the clothes really don’t help. Dressed like he could be a child of the damn corn. He’s even got blood stains on the cuffs of his jeans. Someone, probably his mother, tried to get them out with bleach. But if you notice the dark red blots, you’ll know exactly what you’re looking at.
Dean keeps an old switchblade tucked into his back pocket. Definitely banned in the school’s hand book, but no one gave a shit. A few weeks ago he was showing it off to Brandy Mae Stevens at lunch. Doing the teenage boy version of peacocking. Flips and twirls and showing just how precise the sharp edge can be. Brandy Mae says it’s the prettiest knife she’s ever seen. Dean says that’s because it’s made of pure silver. When Brandy Mae asks why, Dean switches the subject and starts complimenting her tight jeans.
Sam’s got something silver of his own. A little rosary he keeps tucked into his jacket. Kinda like he’s trying to hide it. Jackie Penny swears up and down that she saw him praying once. That wouldn’t be such a strange claim if everyone at school hadn’t seen the little pentagram looking thingy Sam had drawn in front of the classroom door. He said it was for protection, but most kids thought he was a devil worshiper. If he’s praying to Lucifer, he shouldn’t need something with Jesus Christ all over it.
If only to make up for Sam’s silence Dean can’t seem to shut the fuck up. If he isn’t talking, he’s whistling. If he’s not whistling, he’s humming. And if he’s not humming, he’s moving or tapping or drumming in a way. Like he’s trying to fill up space. His clothes are the ones always too big. He tries to fill those too. His jacket, his flannels, his jeans. Why are these boys always wearing that shit anyway? It could be 90 degrees out and they would still be covered head to toe.
The thing most people always notice first is how close they are. Always touching. Always standing right next to each other. Always whispering between themselves. Sure, yeah, siblings are affectionate, but they didn’t know where to stop. If Sam and Dean were in the same room, their hands were on each other. Whether it was brushing shoulders or knees or Dean’s hand on Sam’s arm or thigh. Adults would tell them to cut it out and Sam will try and hide how he still leans into Dean’s side. The other kids noticed too. Sam gets teased for needing his big brother like a little girl. Dean gets side eyes from the older students for touching someone young like that. Touching his brother like that.
Old ladies think it’s sweet. Old men think they need to grow up and separate. If people ask, Dean will make a joke about how ever big his Sammy gets, he’ll always be his baby brother. Sam will dodge the question.
The boys leave town two days after the school year ends. Almost like their stay was a contract. People will quickly forget their names and the more intricate details about them. Still, a decade down the road, people in that little town will talk. They’ll talk about those strange brothers and how the only place they seemed to fit in, was in each other’s arms.
i truly believe that girl!dean is absolutely more ruthless when it comes to her little brother’s masculinity than how it canonically is on the show. she conforms a lot to her gender, definitely not hyper fem but fem in the same way as jo is.
and she views her brother’s canonically emotional intelligence, empathy, and nurturing nature as a personal threat to her own femininity, which is why, instead of making lighthearted jokes that happen on the show, she’s getting homophobic/sexist about it when sam starts to “act like a girl”.
dean is making a disapproved face at sam eating choice saying, “it’s gay, grow a pair and eat a burger.” and she can not stand hearing sam whine about john because, “no offense sam dad was more of a man than you could ever be, why don’t you go find yourself a boyfriend who actually wants to hear you whine. ‘cause I sure don’t.” she would even go as far to humiliate him in front of other hunters for fun.
the only time she’s ever nice to sam is how rapey she becomes when she wants to fuck him. seeing sam lay completely still under her weight, his breath hitching as she pinned his wrists to the mattress. and well he didn’t fight her. he just turned his head to the side, his eyes closed, as tears slipped. while his long eyelashes casted shadows on his flushed cheeks. and sam looked so incredibly vulnerable. so soft. a heavy, dizzying wave of heat rushed straight to her core. she absolutely hated how much it turned her on.
dean had hooked up with plenty of rough, aggressive guys on the road, but none of them ever gave her this specific, intoxicating rush. those guys wanted to take; sam just yielded. watching him shrink away, hearing the quiet, pathetic little sigh he made when she pressed her body against his—it made her blood sing. he was entirely hers. she could do whatever she wanted to him, and he would just take it. it was too much for dean with how much sam looks like a girl right in front of her, as her eyes tracked the smooth line of his throat as he swallowed hard. a pretty, helpless girl.
and to dean she truly believes “he’s a guy. guys always want it. if he’s letting me do this, it’s because he likes it.” she uses his submissive nature against him, completely ignoring the power imbalance she has created through her years of bullying and control. for her, initiating is another way to assert dominance. if she can make him yield to her physically, it proves he belongs to her.
It’s overall twisted how her internalized misogyny handles her view of what consent is and what sex is because to her, sex is a transactional, physical act where men are always the predators and women are the prey. since she is a woman and he is a man, she believes she can't rape him. If he is quiet, hesitant, or just going along with it to keep the peace, she misinterprets his submission as natural male compliance.
gummygunk
origamiaround
titsay
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