“Nah” Dean shrugs, turning back after zipping the duffel pocket back up, Sam's gloves in hand. “Sparklers are for babies.”
Sam gets another teasing half-smirk as Dean hands the gloves over, because okay, maybe that's a bit harsh and he doesn't want Sammy thinking he can't have one if he wants to be a big kid like his brother. It's just that it's easier to go with that than have Sam have to start worrying about things like whether buying more sparklers will leave them with enough money to have something hot while they're out (because the last thing he needs is for Sam to get, like, pneumonia or something), or whether they'll have to buy more salt before Dad gets back (there's maybe two days left – he made sure there was enough to last through New Year's Day when everywhere's closed, but after that?). It's not like Dean isn't used to handling the budget, or telling little white lies so Sam doesn't end up feeling guilty when he gets the best food, the less-worn clothes, the comics that aren't missing pages.