That's The Way The Cookie Crumbles
Dec. 7th, 2009 01:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunspotTitle: That's The Way The Cookie Crumbles
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: 13+
Word Count: ~1,100
Warnings: Possibly crack fiction, IDEFK anymore.
Summary: Dean walks in on Sam and Castiel fighting over the last cookie. He eats it. There are Consequences.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Do not own. Want a cookie now.
Angels don't eat. Fallen angels, it turns out, eat a hell of a lot (no pun intended).
Castiel finished his ninth slice of pizza and leaned back against the motel bed. "That was good," he said when Dean and Sam both looked at him with mingled looks of surprise and disgust.
Dean shook his head and stood up, stretching. "That was gross," he corrected. "I'm going to get us some coffee, you guys start the research thing." He grinned and thought about it for a second before adding, "suckers."
Castiel picked up a piece of discarded crust out of the pizza box and thoughtfully chewing the end. "There's nothing wrong with research, Dean," he said, picking up the nearest book.
Sam waited until the door closed behind Dean before he brought out the shiny white bakery box. "Study food?" he offered, tugging at the ribbon and opening the box. "I always absorb information better with cookies."
A dozen chocolate chip cookies were tucked in the book, looking chewy and delicious and smelling twice as good. Castiel looked up at Sam with surprised eyes. "May I?"
Sam nodded, passing him the box.
Castiel took a bite, eyes sliding closed while he ate. It was the closest he’d felt to divine in a long time. As he chewed, he could taste all the individual flavours –- the sugar, the butter, the vanilla –- and even better was how they all came together. He must have made a noise because when he opened his eyes again, Sam was staring.
"Is it good?" Sam asked, smirking.
"Mhmm." Castiel grinned at him and picked up a second cookie.
They ate their way through the box, sometimes stopping to take a drink or pass a book back and forth.
Sam reached down from his place on the bed for another cookie without looking up from his reading on selkies at the exact moment that Castiel reached over for another cookie without looking up from his reading on deep sea cryptozoology . Their fingers brushed over the last cookie. They both looked up.
There was a moment of intense staring.
Sam caved first, pulling his hand back. "Whatever," he said, sounding perturbed.
Castiel put his hands on his lap and turned back to his reading. "It's fine, Sam, you can have it." His voice was completely calm, and not at all infused with a deeply terrifying blood-lust for cookies (cookie-lust?).
Sam reached for the cookie again. "Thanks man."
Castiel grabbed his wrist. "Changed my mind," he said, looking up at Sam.
Sam dropped the cookie back into the box. "Castiel, it's just a cookie. And besides, I paid for them."
Castiel set down his book and looked levelly at Sam. "It's my first ever time eating cookies though. Don’t you want me to be happy?"
"That would have worked, except you ate like, nine of them already." Sam crossed his arms across his chest.
"Did not, you had more than I did."
"I did not, you're sugar-crazy."
"That may be, but you’re a cookie hog."
"Not even! You're the one who has been eating non-stop for the last three weeks." Sam eyed the cookie. He figured if he moved fast enough, he could have at least half of it stuffed into his mouth before Castiel realized.
It was Castiel's turn to cross his arms. "I have about seven thousand years to make up for, thank you very much!"
"That's just your word against mine, all I know is that you're lucky you still have freaky-fast angel metabolism or else you'd be the size of the Goodyear blimp."
"I don’t even know what that means."
Sam snorted. "Shut up, you know exactly what I mean."
There was a few tense moments of staring again, each of them trying to glare a little bit fiercer than the other.
"I want that cookie," Sam hissed. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed.
Castiel scrambled to his feet. Standing face to face, it was clear that Sam had the height and weight advantage, but there was something about the wild look in Castiel's eye that made Sam seriously consider if he could win in a physical fight. There was also a tiny voice in the back of his head that was questioning why there might need to be a physical fight about a fucking cookie, but Sam pushed that away. He had tasted these bakery fresh chocolate chip delights and he damn well wanted another.
He decided to go for it. Sam reached down, stooping slightly but not breaking eye contact. He felt his lip raise a little like a feral cat. Castiel put his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed. Sam's eyes bulged a little.
"Samuel, I think you should reconsider your current course of action."
"I think you should let go of my arm before I shoot you. I have guns, you know."
"I think that's my cookie."
“I think it’s mine.”
"Cookie?" said Dean. It actually sounded more like 'hooh-hee?' because he was saying it around a huge mouthful of half-masticated chocolate chip cookie.
Castiel let go of Sam's shoulder. Sam stood up straight. They both looked at the empty box lying on the floor next to the pile of research books. Then they both looked at Dean who was holding a tray of Styrofoam coffee cups and chewing intently.
There was a smear of chocolate on his chin.
Sam and Castiel looked at each other. They looked back at Dean.
Dean didn't notice right away; he was still eating.
"I still have some powers," Castiel said, turning back to Sam. "I could turn him into... Into... A chair."
"A chair? Really?"
Castiel bunched his hands in his hair. "I'm hungry," he moaned pathetically. "I can’t think."
"How about a banana slug? Or a spittoon? Something gross..."
Dean clued in. "Bwah?" Or at least he tried to.
"You ate the last cookie, Dean," Castiel told him. "There has to be Consequences." The capital letter was very clearly pronounced. "In Ancient Babylon, both Sam and I would have the legal right to skin you, marry your wife, enslave your children and allow rhinoceroses to destroy your home or business or shipyard."
Dean-s eyes widened comically.
“Yeah, or we could beat you up," Sam said conversationally, wondering where they would find rhinoceroses at this time of night.
Together, Sam and Castiel advanced...
--
"I seriously hate you both and I'm never speaking to you again ever starting now," Dean said the next morning the moment after Castiel ripped the tape off his mouth. He stubbornly refused to say a word while Sam undid the ropes tying him to the chair. And he kept on stubbornly refusing to say anything directly to either of them through the next two states.
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: 13+
Word Count: ~1,100
Warnings: Possibly crack fiction, IDEFK anymore.
Summary: Dean walks in on Sam and Castiel fighting over the last cookie. He eats it. There are Consequences.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Do not own. Want a cookie now.
Angels don't eat. Fallen angels, it turns out, eat a hell of a lot (no pun intended).
Castiel finished his ninth slice of pizza and leaned back against the motel bed. "That was good," he said when Dean and Sam both looked at him with mingled looks of surprise and disgust.
Dean shook his head and stood up, stretching. "That was gross," he corrected. "I'm going to get us some coffee, you guys start the research thing." He grinned and thought about it for a second before adding, "suckers."
Castiel picked up a piece of discarded crust out of the pizza box and thoughtfully chewing the end. "There's nothing wrong with research, Dean," he said, picking up the nearest book.
Sam waited until the door closed behind Dean before he brought out the shiny white bakery box. "Study food?" he offered, tugging at the ribbon and opening the box. "I always absorb information better with cookies."
A dozen chocolate chip cookies were tucked in the book, looking chewy and delicious and smelling twice as good. Castiel looked up at Sam with surprised eyes. "May I?"
Sam nodded, passing him the box.
Castiel took a bite, eyes sliding closed while he ate. It was the closest he’d felt to divine in a long time. As he chewed, he could taste all the individual flavours –- the sugar, the butter, the vanilla –- and even better was how they all came together. He must have made a noise because when he opened his eyes again, Sam was staring.
"Is it good?" Sam asked, smirking.
"Mhmm." Castiel grinned at him and picked up a second cookie.
They ate their way through the box, sometimes stopping to take a drink or pass a book back and forth.
Sam reached down from his place on the bed for another cookie without looking up from his reading on selkies at the exact moment that Castiel reached over for another cookie without looking up from his reading on deep sea cryptozoology . Their fingers brushed over the last cookie. They both looked up.
There was a moment of intense staring.
Sam caved first, pulling his hand back. "Whatever," he said, sounding perturbed.
Castiel put his hands on his lap and turned back to his reading. "It's fine, Sam, you can have it." His voice was completely calm, and not at all infused with a deeply terrifying blood-lust for cookies (cookie-lust?).
Sam reached for the cookie again. "Thanks man."
Castiel grabbed his wrist. "Changed my mind," he said, looking up at Sam.
Sam dropped the cookie back into the box. "Castiel, it's just a cookie. And besides, I paid for them."
Castiel set down his book and looked levelly at Sam. "It's my first ever time eating cookies though. Don’t you want me to be happy?"
"That would have worked, except you ate like, nine of them already." Sam crossed his arms across his chest.
"Did not, you had more than I did."
"I did not, you're sugar-crazy."
"That may be, but you’re a cookie hog."
"Not even! You're the one who has been eating non-stop for the last three weeks." Sam eyed the cookie. He figured if he moved fast enough, he could have at least half of it stuffed into his mouth before Castiel realized.
It was Castiel's turn to cross his arms. "I have about seven thousand years to make up for, thank you very much!"
"That's just your word against mine, all I know is that you're lucky you still have freaky-fast angel metabolism or else you'd be the size of the Goodyear blimp."
"I don’t even know what that means."
Sam snorted. "Shut up, you know exactly what I mean."
There was a few tense moments of staring again, each of them trying to glare a little bit fiercer than the other.
"I want that cookie," Sam hissed. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed.
Castiel scrambled to his feet. Standing face to face, it was clear that Sam had the height and weight advantage, but there was something about the wild look in Castiel's eye that made Sam seriously consider if he could win in a physical fight. There was also a tiny voice in the back of his head that was questioning why there might need to be a physical fight about a fucking cookie, but Sam pushed that away. He had tasted these bakery fresh chocolate chip delights and he damn well wanted another.
He decided to go for it. Sam reached down, stooping slightly but not breaking eye contact. He felt his lip raise a little like a feral cat. Castiel put his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed. Sam's eyes bulged a little.
"Samuel, I think you should reconsider your current course of action."
"I think you should let go of my arm before I shoot you. I have guns, you know."
"I think that's my cookie."
“I think it’s mine.”
"Cookie?" said Dean. It actually sounded more like 'hooh-hee?' because he was saying it around a huge mouthful of half-masticated chocolate chip cookie.
Castiel let go of Sam's shoulder. Sam stood up straight. They both looked at the empty box lying on the floor next to the pile of research books. Then they both looked at Dean who was holding a tray of Styrofoam coffee cups and chewing intently.
There was a smear of chocolate on his chin.
Sam and Castiel looked at each other. They looked back at Dean.
Dean didn't notice right away; he was still eating.
"I still have some powers," Castiel said, turning back to Sam. "I could turn him into... Into... A chair."
"A chair? Really?"
Castiel bunched his hands in his hair. "I'm hungry," he moaned pathetically. "I can’t think."
"How about a banana slug? Or a spittoon? Something gross..."
Dean clued in. "Bwah?" Or at least he tried to.
"You ate the last cookie, Dean," Castiel told him. "There has to be Consequences." The capital letter was very clearly pronounced. "In Ancient Babylon, both Sam and I would have the legal right to skin you, marry your wife, enslave your children and allow rhinoceroses to destroy your home or business or shipyard."
Dean-s eyes widened comically.
“Yeah, or we could beat you up," Sam said conversationally, wondering where they would find rhinoceroses at this time of night.
Together, Sam and Castiel advanced...
--
"I seriously hate you both and I'm never speaking to you again ever starting now," Dean said the next morning the moment after Castiel ripped the tape off his mouth. He stubbornly refused to say a word while Sam undid the ropes tying him to the chair. And he kept on stubbornly refusing to say anything directly to either of them through the next two states.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 07:52 am (UTC)You are made of LOVE.
“Yeah, or we could beat you up,” Sam said conversationally, wondering where they would find rhinoceroses at this time of night.
Oh, the poor dear -- he should know that live rhinoceroses are available at all drive-thru zoos!
PS: Deleted scene? In which there is a threesome?
no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 07:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 08:29 am (UTC)DO IT DO IT DO IT.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 06:30 am (UTC)