But there's...this IDEA. I'll see if it flies, if not, then, I'm pleased with the story that me and Stef finished, but if it flies, holy fuck, the sweet crackish love that will emerge.
Because I'd be getting away with posting something like this:
Dean's not that bitter that he's had to cut out the a la mode outta his pie, hell no, that ain't it, 'sides he has to keep in shape or he's gonna be a dead fat man if he gets into a nasty fight. And there, yeah, it's there, Dean's always considering what'll happen if. Every time they find themselves a case to work on, some evil son of a bitch that needs killing but quick, he thinks -- No fucking way I'm getting my ass handed to me 'cause I'm friggin' flabby.
"I’m still growing," Ben says, that enthusiasm of his is just weird, sitting straight up, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. He should be rocking the moody teenager, be more like Sammy, problem is that he's got too much of Dean in him. Except the little fucker's only one inch shy of Dean's height and he hasn't even hit the time for his freakin' growth spurt.
Dean's not looking forward to being stuck with a pair of giants.
OH NO, that's not tempting at all. Goddamn CRACK.