WOW: Curl. Some belated happy boys for Mad Alless' birthday; well, one's happy - the other hasn't quite worked out what he is yet … Dean is SO not a morning person!

Disclaimer: I don't own them which is proof, pure and simple, that life just isn't fair.


A perky tuft curling upwards from an unruly cowlick crowned the sight that greeted Sam every morning.

It was accompanied by glazed moss-green eyes which blinked blearily through the steam of the morning's first coffee as full lips stretched around a cavernous yawn, and a threadbare T-shirt, complete with mysterious stain and sweat patches under the armpits, which stretched across hunched shoulders as Dean sat slumped on the bed, scratching his belly and staring groggily into space.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly a ray of dawn sunshine, but it was entertaining in it's own way.

It was better than any dawn chorus.