hadriel | misfired audio;

( you would think, with all of the glitching happening across the network, he would have the sense to not try in the first place. but as far as he's seen, all of those glitches have been confined to text posts, and with all of the intermittent voice chats he's been having with kate –

he should be safe. right?

( sure, we'll go with that, sammy. )

they never do video – whether due to no real reason, or the fact that most of their conversations take place in the small hours of the morning is anyone's guess – so it's only audio, though there is the sound of a smile in his voice like there always is. )

So, you're missing a notebook, right? You left it on the kitchen counter. ( a beat. ) It's got something added to it, but you're gonna have to come get it to find out what it is.

( this – sadly – is how this idiot flirts. or thinks he's flirting. s i g h. )

Oh, and how do you feel about another movie night? If I promise not to burn the popcorn this time.

( that promise will probably be broken. s i g h.

and kate is probably going to flip her shit when she sees this. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( well. whatever. :| dean might be an expert on his little brother, but said little brother is going to deny that right this very second until he's blue in the face, even though this level of teasing so close to normal and familiar that they might as well be back in the bunker, or on the road to their next job. anywhere but here, in the murdercave.

he stands there, staring at his older brother like his expression might end up with some physical repercussion, like a cutting gaze might scratch him up, and it's only going to end up being more fuel for dean's fire.

they've always been like this. are always going to be like this. that's just how they operate. no two ways about that. )

... Shut up.

( good job, sam. really uh. sticking it to him, there, aren't you? )

[ It almost feels like home, it's true.

Feels like the simple things in life, the banter that's always volleyed back and forth between them until someone arcs too high, until someone hits out of bounds. Sometimes these things turn into fists and glory and black eyes but sometimes they descend into brushed laughter and really, right now Dean doesn't know which way this is going to go. It's always the open road with them, always the banter that alights like so much easy breeze and Dean just sort of readjusts himself on his bed and shrugs, one arm wrapped around his chest.

Sam can glower at him as much as he likes, Dean just knows too well. Knows the soft edge of Sam's feelings when they truly exist, when they hover there, alighting like Cas' fireflies. ]

Why, because you know i'm right?

[ Dean lifts his brows in something akin to superiority before he knocks back a drink, just waiting for it. The resistance. The push and pull. ]

( it's always going to be either of the two extremes for them, and never anywhere in the middle, where it would do them the most good. it either comes to blows or devolves into something even sillier than it had started out as, and this, at the very least, is erring on the latter half of the two, something that can keep them both laughing and in good spirits, even if it happens to be at sam's expense.

then again, when it comes to dean, when isn't it at sam's expense?

dean is still leering at him, amused and pleased with himself in that way of his, and it's all his little brother can do to roll his eyes in response - because, really, he doesn't have much more in the way of anything else. dean knows him, inside and out and every which way, and he knows when he's gotten him backed into a corner. when sam can't deny whatever is coming out of his mouth any more than he already has. )

I'm never going to say it's because you're right. ( but he doesn't say he's wrong, either, and there's the clincher. )

[ But Dean, at least to some small extent, thinks this is what's best for Sam. Thinks he needs this, this shove into reality, this fight. It's what Dean would need after all, to be physically grappled towards understanding and so Sam requires it as well. There's no gentle touches to this, no kindness, and Dean can't help but situate himself right in the middle of the teasing aspect of it all because it's what he does best.

It's what he knows, this brutality, this encouragement, trying to egg Sam on until he stumbles directly into action. ]

Nah, course not. I'll just say it for you.

[ But he finally begins to shift, to wriggle his way up off his bed and to his feet, stretching out on his toes so he can purposefully point his bottle of beer in Sam's direction, as if he needed the additional height to more better make his point. ]

C'mon man- someone around here should be gettin' some. It's drier than the Sahara around here. Just, stop thinking about it so damn hard.

misfired audio;

i refuse to acknowledge that.

SEE I KNEW IT

YOU KNOW NOTHING!!!!

I KNOW ALL THE THINGS