Who: Jesse and Sam Where: Jesse's family's house When: Sunday, March 7 Rating: PG-13? Warning: Probably some swearing Summary: Jesse has finally railroaded Sam into dinner with the family.
Sam hurried home after his shift ended at the bookshop. He ducked under the shower real quick, and though he considered putting on some work-type nicer clothes again, he reckoned Jesse wasn't going to bother, and he didn't want to look like a twat. So he grabbed a clean, wrinkle- and hole-free t-shirt, and his nicer pair of jeans. He threw a jumper on over that, then grabbed his mop and knocked on his ceiling with the handle, waiting for the acknowledging knocks in return.
He had mixed feelings about this evening; on the one hand, he was looking forward to a home-cooked meal that was neither thrifty nor cooked by him. But on the other, it still felt as though he were being offered charity or pity, as he was alone on this side of the pond, and hadn't seen his family in months. But he knew Jesse wasn't really offering it in a condescending manner, so he did his best to push his stubborn pride aside and appreciate the thought. He just hoped the bloke's family was as nice and laid-back as Jesse himself was. Probably, given the way Jesse spoke of them.
Sam tugged at the cuff of his jumper and moved to the couch, where he'd dumped his jacket and such earlier. He wasn't sure if they'd be walking or taking Jesse's car. As cold as it was, he still rather hoped for walking. He didn't honestly feel like dying tonight.