Part 7

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Sam:  

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation, glancing briefly over into the next room, where Dean and Cas finished off the last of Bobby’s cherry pie. He couldn’t stand it; the pie, the bad jokes, the staring. Of all of this, the staring was the worst. Mostly because it never fucking stopped. The whole- soul searching, love sick, and of course, purely platonic, side eyes thing was getting old fast. Not even Bobby was immune, or Jess, Garth, Kevin, Dorothy, and especially not Charlie. That girl had one hell of a gay-dar. Charlie had literally made a chart depicting just how gay they were for each other, then turned it in for extra credit. It seemed at this point, the general consensus was that if they didn’t get together soon, an arranged marriage was in order. At least then, the staring might stop.

Puppy love, Sam thought with a sigh. It was enough to make a man spit up his lunch.

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