Katherine (Kat) (lolaann1) wrote,
Katherine (Kat)

Fic: "Dude, it's Meat Loaf!" (Supernatural)

Title: Dude, it's Meat Loaf
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean
Pairing: gen
Rating: PG-13 for language
Wordcount: ~1700
Written to fill the comment fic meme: Sam's had an annoying day. Not a terrible-horrible-no good-very bad day, not a Bad Day at Black Rock kind of day, just one of those days where doing the simplest things seems to never go quite right, i.e, restaurant can't get his order right, coffee shop out of his favorite blend, etc. Nothing majorly angsty, just minor annoyances that put Sam in a grouchy mood. Cue amused!Dean cheering his brother up.
Prompted By: kate_mct

A/N: I normally only do crossovers, so this is a first for me and I didn’t quite know how to go about it.  I always heard you should write what you know and three things I know are: Southern Appalachia, classic rock, and getting carsick on mountain roads. So, I started there J

Dude, it’s Meat Loaf!

“Damn dude!  You look like ass warmed over.”

Sam smirked at his brother from his position in the Impala’s passenger seat.  He pretty much felt like ass, so it wasn’t surprising that he looked like it too.  Dean had insisted on taking the scenic route through the mountains of Western North Carolina and Sam was now carsick as a result of all the twisty roads.

“Oh man, look at that,” his brother remarked as he pointed to a roadside stand.  “That place sells boiled peanuts.  I think we need some.  How ‘bout it, Sammy?  Maybe that’ll cheer you up?  And hey, check it out. They even sell ‘maters’,” he added with a boyish grin. “We gotta get some of those too.”

Sam sighed and gritted his teeth.  “Dean, ‘maters’ are just tomatoes and no, I don’t want a bunch of stupid boiled peanuts.  I hate those things.  They’re mushy. It’s disgusting.”

It was too late.  His brother had already whipped the Impala over to the side of the road, much to the displeasure of Sam’s stomach.

“Dude, you do know you’re a buzzkill, right?  If we have to drive all over the friggin country, we should at least get to enjoy the sights.”

“This isn’t a sight, Dean.  This is a broken down wooden shack that sells produce.  I mean, look at that guy,” Sam said as he pointed to the man with the long white beard and overalls who apparently ran the roadside stand.  “It’s insulting.  People in Appalachia don’t really dress like that, Dean.  This is all for tourists and you’re just feeding the stereotype.”

Dean frowned disapprovingly.  “I don’t think you should objectify these people, Sam.  They’re hard working Americans, just like the rest of us.”

“What!? I never said…”  Sam shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Dean grinned at him. His brother was messing with him, but sometimes it was hard to tell with that man. 

When his brother hopped out of the car with way too much enthusiasm, Sam decided there was no way he was moving.  He crossed his arms and set his jaw stubbornly, but finally gave up and got out too, after Dean held his arms out to his sides and stared impatiently for what felt like ten years. 

Sam trailed behind while Dean checked out the merchandise.  Sometimes his brother could be completely fascinated by the dumbest things.  Still, it actually was nice to get out of the car and away from the endless curvy roads for a few minutes.  Plus, it gave him a chance to stretch his legs.  The thing was, Sam wasn’t really in the mood to look at the bright side today.  He was ill and he wanted to wallow in it.  Truth was, he was sulking. He might as well be honest with himself.  It wasn’t like anything major had happened, it was just a lot of little things and they had all added up to one hell of a pissy mood.

They’d done a pretty standard salt-n-burn in upstate South Carolina and now they were working their way back North.  The job had gone smoothly for once, but nothing else had.  First, the air conditioning was broken in the crap motel they stayed in.  Not such a big deal, unless you were staying in South Carolina in the middle of July.  Which guess what?  They were.  Then, when they’d left out that morning, the local diner completely screwed up his eggs and the waitress spilled coffee all over his lap.  Thank God it wasn’t extremely hot coffee.  But since all of his other clothes were beyond filthy at this point, he’d had to sit around in wet jeans half the morning while he listened to his brother sing. No, scratch that.  While he listened to his brother ‘squalling like a tortured cat’ was a much more accurate description.

The thing was, Dean was only trying to help in his own annoying way.  His brother thought it was his job to fix anything and everything that went wrong in the family, even if that ‘thing’ was nothing more than Sam having a run-of-the-mill bad day.  It was childish, but he just wanted to be miserable for a while and he wanted Dean to just let him stew, instead of trying to be entertaining by stopping at hokey roadside attractions and singing even further off-key than usual.  The word ‘bitch’ popped into Sam’s head and maybe it was an accurate term for his current mood, but dammit their lives were full of petty annoyances. Sometimes it was nice to sulk and wallow.  Unfortunately, he was broken out of his personal pity party by his brother’s booming voice.

“Sam!  Get your big ass over here and check out these bears.  They’re awesome!”

Dean’s current definition of ‘awesome’ seemed to include chainsaw sculptures of black bears.  Joy.

“Pretty cool, ain’t it?” Dean asked with a grin.  “A thing like that takes some mad skill.  We should buy that one,” he added as he pointed to a bear squatting under the words ‘No Dumping’.

Actually, it was kind of amazing that a person could have that much control over a chainsaw, but it also wasn’t like these ‘sculptures’ were Michelangelo’s David either.  No dumping?  Seriously?

“They’re great, Dean,” Sam said dryly.  “Best thing I’ve seen in years.  We should buy them all.”

Dean looked a little crestfallen and Sam hated that he kind of felt guilty for that.  After all, he hadn’t asked Dean to try to fix his crappy mood and it wasn’t his job too either.

“You suck,” his brother said with a shrug.  “And guess what? You can’t have any of my peanuts.”

Despite himself, Sam felt the corners of his lips twitching a little.  Dean sounded like a pouty school kid. The whole thing was so ridiculous.

“I don’t want your stupid peanuts, jerk.  I told you I hate those things.”

“Oh yeah, bitchface? Guess you just hate America then.”

Sam cracked a grin.  “Fine, I hate America.  You figured me out.”

“Damn straight. Now, let’s hit the road.  I wanna hit this barbeque joint that Obama ate at before it closes.  They only do lunch.”

Sam headed back toward the Impala with his stomach doing unhappy summersaults at the thought of barbeque -- well, at the thought of any food actually.  He just hoped he didn’t end up yacking before the day was over.  As he pulled open the door, he paused in amazement to watch Dean wave enthusiastically and wish a friendly farewell to the guy who ran the produce stand.  The guy was apparently named ‘Carl’. Sam wasn’t sure how his brother had managed to be on a first name basis so quickly.

“You’uns be careful,” Carl called back with a wave. “Watch out for Johnny. He just loves bustin’ guys drivin’ a car like yours.”

“Who’s Johnny?” Sam asked his brother once they’d settled back in the car.

Dean wrinkled his brow and stared at him like he had two heads. “Johnny Law.  Dude, it’s like I don’t even know you.  You really do hate America.  Where did I go wrong with you Sammy?”

He chuckled a little. Dean was so goofy.  “Yeah. Right.  I forgot. I hate America.  That’s clearly my biggest issue in life.”

“As long as you admit it,” his brother said as he flipped on the radio and began surfing through the channels.  “Dude!” he exclaimed happily.  “It’s Meat Loaf.”

Crap.  The local classic rock station was playing Paradise by the Dashboard Light.  One of the longest songs ever and there was no way Dean wasn’t going to sing along.

“Come on Sam, sing it with me.  I’ll let you be Meat Loaf this time.  I’ll do all the chick parts.”

“Yeah. Don’t think so.”

“Aww man! How can you turn down an offer like that? I’m letting you wear the man pants, Sammy.  You get to be on top this time.”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed, but he couldn’t stop his laughter. “You are so disgusting!  You do realize you’re one seriously twisted individual, right?  That’s just sick.”

Dean just grinned his cheesiest grin and started singing his ‘part’ in an off-key falsetto.

Stop right there! I gotta know right now.
Before we go any further, do you love me?
Will you love me forever? Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?

Sam couldn’t help but laugh. The guy was really getting into it, shaking his head and making ‘dramatic expressions’.  If they weren’t wanted men more often than not, he’d totally record this and put it on YouTube.  When he didn’t join in on his part, Dean sang that too.  Dude was totally out of breath from switching back and forth between being Meat Loaf and whoever the girl singer was.  It was hilarious.  Sam had to admit it.  It was stupid as hell, but it was still hilarious.

When they got toward the end of the song, Sam couldn’t help but join in.  The lyrics were just too good to pass up.  Dean was thrilled though and he was good for his word and slipped back into his ridiculous falsetto and let Sam sing the low notes.

So now I'm praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive
'Cause if I gotta spend another minute with you
I don't think that I can really survive

I'll never break my promise or forget my vow
But God only knows what I can do right now
I'm praying for the end of time, It's all that I can do ooh OOH
Praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you

By the time the song was over, Sam was laughing his ass off.

“Dean, you’re the biggest freak on earth. Seriously. THE biggest,” he said as he held onto his aching sides.  Dammit, he was going to puke for sure now.

Tags: dean winchester, fanfiction, lolaann1, sam winchester, supernatural

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