Drabble for lone_wo1f

She asked for a Trevor Moore/Sam Brown from the Whitest Kids U' Know. I hope she likes it.


Trevor has an amazing ability to express every emotion solely with his enormous, bright eyes. He can demonstrate his anger with a squint or a roll and his happiness can be displayed through a beautiful, lash filled flutter of his lids.
Right now his gaze is widened and bulging as he stares at the man in front of him. Sam’s wife beater and boxers are soaked with sweat as he stands over Trevor’s bed in a panic.

“Sam? What the Hell dude? It’s 4am.” Trevor rolls over to turn on a light and blinks quickly to adjust to the brightness.

“You’re a shit! You know that?” Sam yells and flails his arms in a frantic windmill motion.

“Sam, get out of my room.” The other man groans and places his head back to the pillow.

“That movie scared the fuck out of me! Why would you make me watch that?” The yelling continues and knocks on the wall from another room are added to the early morning commotion.

“Guys, can you keep it down.” A muffled voice makes its way to the two men.

“I will keep it down when this asshole apologizes for making me watch a movie that has blessed me with a total of six nightmares about zombies eating my brain!” The heavier man screams as he begins to shake Trevor’s bed in an annoying attempt to keep him awake.

“Dude, what would they want with your brain, it probably tastes like crap, now go to bed.” Trevor replies, enjoying the ride, it was actually kind of soothing.

“Apologize.” Sam states in a much quieter volume than his previous outbursts.

“No.” Trevor turns over and grins in to his pillow, as much as he hates Sam’s loud, obnoxious voice, its always fun to egg people on.

“Apologize!” Sam’s voice is much louder now, exceeding all earlier levels.

“Nope.” Trevor begins to giggle due to what he assumes is a lack of proper sleep.

“Trevor and Sam, I will tear this wall down and beat your faces in,” the voice next-door echoes once again through the tense room. Sam stops shaking the bed and lets out a loud huff of air.

“Fine, I’m sorry Sam, now get out of my room.” Trevor mumbles, still hiding his face in the pillow.

“Thank you.” Sam retorts and then returns to his room.

Trevor rolls over to his back and stares at the ceiling. His eyes slowly close and he dreams of a zombie version of Sam, yelling at him in gargled moans about how his zombificationn was to be blamed on Trevor’s choice in horror films.