SPN Fic: The Man Who Would Be Queen
Genre: gen
Rating: PG for language
Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC
Word Count: 1058
Prompt from mamapranayama: As part of the great prank wars, Dean replaces every stitch of Sam's clothes with women's clothing. But that's only how it ends, the real story is how Dean managed to face the embarrassment of buying women's clothing in Sam's size, including the high-heels and frilly lingerie all for the sake of a great prank.
That the store was in the gay district of town gave Dean slight pause. But hey, this was 2013, get over it already. Besides, it had taken a lot of web searching. He had all of Sam’s clothes, even down to his shoes, stuffed in Baby’s trunk. This would serve Sam right. There were some pranks that went too damn far.
First it was the superglue on the LARP wig. Then waking up with a red studded dog collar around his neck, locked, with Sam giving him an evil grin and holding up the key. Then, the worst, the most heinous thing Sam had ever done, the unforgivable...
Spray painting DEAN WUVS BABY in pink across the hood of Baby’s car!
What had Dean done to deserve this? Putting Sam’s hand in a warm bucket of blood while he slept so Sam would not only pee his bed, but freak out at having blood all over the place? That was a great prank! Sam nearly pissed himself again! And he knocked over the bucket of blood. Heh. Pulling out half of Sam’s cataloging cards and hiding them inside the giant telescope. That had been great, watching the poor bastard ransacking the Batcave until he had to beg Dean for them. Best of all, Dean had shuffled them all out of order. Sam nearly started crying when he looked them over.
But that was all harmless fun, right? But now it was time to take out the big guns. Dean just had to have the courage to go through with it. He had faced down Zeus, he could do this.
There it was: Carl’s Doll House. In the window were wigs, feather boas, and the biggest high heels Dean had ever seen. Damn. He took a deep breath and pushed open the shop door.
It was almost too much to take in: sequins, feathers, evening gowns, tutus, shelves of wigs, shelves of bright colored high heels and high hooker boots, giant bracelets, an entire case of make up with the most amazing collection of false eyelashes Dean had ever seen. The store stunk of perfume.
“Can I help you?” The brisk, businesslike voice came from a short man wearing a towering blonde wig and a tiara. Not to mention a shimmering multicolored muumuu. “What a beautiful face. What name do you work under?”
“No!” Dean said, taken aback. “It’s for my brother. He’s-he’s a drag queen.”
“Oh. Have I heard of him?”
“Calls himself Princess Samantha.” Dean forced himself to chuckle. “But his, uh, trunk with all of his, uh, clothes got stolen, so he needs everything.” Dean felt himself starting to hyperventilate. Keep cool, you’ve seen weirder things than women’s clothing for men. Actually, it reminded Dean of those Fredericks of Hollywood catalogs he’d seen when he was a kid.
The man gave Dean the side-eye. “Then why didn’t he come himself?”
“It’s a surprise! I can’t tell you how happy Sam--Samantha will be to have a completely new wardrobe, and you look like just the man-woman-whatever-to help me out! You see, I’m new to this stuff.” Damn straight I’m new to this stuff. And I’m damn straight.
“Too bad,” sighed the shopkeeper. “Those lips, those eyelashes-a loss to show business, I tell you. So, what size is your brother?”
“Uh-I don’t know.” Who knew what size their brother wore? That was just sick. “He’s gigantic, about six foot seven, and he works out a lot, got big hands and feet.”
“Oh, my. Now I am sorry he didn’t come with you. Not to worry, if we can fit bears, we can fit your brother? Oh, is he a bear?”
Dean was confused. “No, he’s a guy, not a were-bear.”
“Carl’s out, I’m Rupert,” said the shopkeeper, extending a hand with long glittering fingernails. “And you are?”
“Brad.” Dean shook Rupert’s hand, giving him a nervous smile. He was definitely getting a major vibe from Rupert. Maybe this was a mistake.
“We’ll start with lingerie, Brad.” Rupert gave Dean a long look up and down, particularly down. “Does the Princess tuck?”
“No, he wears his shirts out.” Dean wanted to hide his crotch with one of the feather boas.
“No tucking. We have a marvelous collection of silken panties in a range of colors.” Rupert slid open a drawer of lingerie. Shit...why did these things have to be so damn sexy. Get hold of yourself, these are for a guy. Guys who wear women’s clothes. Maybe it would make it easier for Dean if he imagined he was buying a wardrobe for a really big girl. One of those Amazons that had almost killed him a few years ago. Yeah, that would keep the freakiness at bay.
“Cool. I’ll take five pairs of pink, one pair of black, and two of the ones that say ‘Gateway To Heaven’. You’ll help me with the rest, right? Samantha likes a lot of frilly, girly stuff.”
“Of course, I’m happy to be of service. If only I was picking out things for you, Brad. Such a shame to waste those delicate features.”
Dean held back from snapping, they’re not delicate!
Two hours and a hacked Chase Sapphire card later, Dean had four shopping bags of clothes. He regretted that he couldn’t get a wig or false eyelashes. But he did have three pairs of fishnet tights. And giant stiletto heels in black and red. Blouses, petticoats, a huge red sequined evening gown (Rupert assured him that red was perfect for a brunette), and some sort of tight gold pants that Rupert called “capris.” Everything in the biggest size imaginable. Who knew drag queens could be that big? Maybe Sammy could start a career on the side, in case he got tired of hunting again.
Back at the Batcave, Dean hid the bags until Sam went to bed. Then Dean quickly unpacked (making sure to leave tissue paper on the more fragile items), hanging the dresses where Sam’s jacket and shirts had once been. The stilettos were neatly arranged.
Making sure his door was locked, with a chair braced against it, Dean fell asleep, exhausted.
Dean woke to the sound of: “WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? MY CLOTHES! OH MY GOD!”
Sweet music to Dean’s ears.
“Remember Sam, red is perfect for brunettes!”
Glossary:
Bears: Large, heavy, hairy men
Tuck: Tucking your junk so it looks like you have no junk.
/p>
Rating: PG for language
Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC
Word Count: 1058
Prompt from mamapranayama: As part of the great prank wars, Dean replaces every stitch of Sam's clothes with women's clothing. But that's only how it ends, the real story is how Dean managed to face the embarrassment of buying women's clothing in Sam's size, including the high-heels and frilly lingerie all for the sake of a great prank.
That the store was in the gay district of town gave Dean slight pause. But hey, this was 2013, get over it already. Besides, it had taken a lot of web searching. He had all of Sam’s clothes, even down to his shoes, stuffed in Baby’s trunk. This would serve Sam right. There were some pranks that went too damn far.
First it was the superglue on the LARP wig. Then waking up with a red studded dog collar around his neck, locked, with Sam giving him an evil grin and holding up the key. Then, the worst, the most heinous thing Sam had ever done, the unforgivable...
Spray painting DEAN WUVS BABY in pink across the hood of Baby’s car!
What had Dean done to deserve this? Putting Sam’s hand in a warm bucket of blood while he slept so Sam would not only pee his bed, but freak out at having blood all over the place? That was a great prank! Sam nearly pissed himself again! And he knocked over the bucket of blood. Heh. Pulling out half of Sam’s cataloging cards and hiding them inside the giant telescope. That had been great, watching the poor bastard ransacking the Batcave until he had to beg Dean for them. Best of all, Dean had shuffled them all out of order. Sam nearly started crying when he looked them over.
But that was all harmless fun, right? But now it was time to take out the big guns. Dean just had to have the courage to go through with it. He had faced down Zeus, he could do this.
There it was: Carl’s Doll House. In the window were wigs, feather boas, and the biggest high heels Dean had ever seen. Damn. He took a deep breath and pushed open the shop door.
It was almost too much to take in: sequins, feathers, evening gowns, tutus, shelves of wigs, shelves of bright colored high heels and high hooker boots, giant bracelets, an entire case of make up with the most amazing collection of false eyelashes Dean had ever seen. The store stunk of perfume.
“Can I help you?” The brisk, businesslike voice came from a short man wearing a towering blonde wig and a tiara. Not to mention a shimmering multicolored muumuu. “What a beautiful face. What name do you work under?”
“No!” Dean said, taken aback. “It’s for my brother. He’s-he’s a drag queen.”
“Oh. Have I heard of him?”
“Calls himself Princess Samantha.” Dean forced himself to chuckle. “But his, uh, trunk with all of his, uh, clothes got stolen, so he needs everything.” Dean felt himself starting to hyperventilate. Keep cool, you’ve seen weirder things than women’s clothing for men. Actually, it reminded Dean of those Fredericks of Hollywood catalogs he’d seen when he was a kid.
The man gave Dean the side-eye. “Then why didn’t he come himself?”
“It’s a surprise! I can’t tell you how happy Sam--Samantha will be to have a completely new wardrobe, and you look like just the man-woman-whatever-to help me out! You see, I’m new to this stuff.” Damn straight I’m new to this stuff. And I’m damn straight.
“Too bad,” sighed the shopkeeper. “Those lips, those eyelashes-a loss to show business, I tell you. So, what size is your brother?”
“Uh-I don’t know.” Who knew what size their brother wore? That was just sick. “He’s gigantic, about six foot seven, and he works out a lot, got big hands and feet.”
“Oh, my. Now I am sorry he didn’t come with you. Not to worry, if we can fit bears, we can fit your brother? Oh, is he a bear?”
Dean was confused. “No, he’s a guy, not a were-bear.”
“Carl’s out, I’m Rupert,” said the shopkeeper, extending a hand with long glittering fingernails. “And you are?”
“Brad.” Dean shook Rupert’s hand, giving him a nervous smile. He was definitely getting a major vibe from Rupert. Maybe this was a mistake.
“We’ll start with lingerie, Brad.” Rupert gave Dean a long look up and down, particularly down. “Does the Princess tuck?”
“No, he wears his shirts out.” Dean wanted to hide his crotch with one of the feather boas.
“No tucking. We have a marvelous collection of silken panties in a range of colors.” Rupert slid open a drawer of lingerie. Shit...why did these things have to be so damn sexy. Get hold of yourself, these are for a guy. Guys who wear women’s clothes. Maybe it would make it easier for Dean if he imagined he was buying a wardrobe for a really big girl. One of those Amazons that had almost killed him a few years ago. Yeah, that would keep the freakiness at bay.
“Cool. I’ll take five pairs of pink, one pair of black, and two of the ones that say ‘Gateway To Heaven’. You’ll help me with the rest, right? Samantha likes a lot of frilly, girly stuff.”
“Of course, I’m happy to be of service. If only I was picking out things for you, Brad. Such a shame to waste those delicate features.”
Dean held back from snapping, they’re not delicate!
Two hours and a hacked Chase Sapphire card later, Dean had four shopping bags of clothes. He regretted that he couldn’t get a wig or false eyelashes. But he did have three pairs of fishnet tights. And giant stiletto heels in black and red. Blouses, petticoats, a huge red sequined evening gown (Rupert assured him that red was perfect for a brunette), and some sort of tight gold pants that Rupert called “capris.” Everything in the biggest size imaginable. Who knew drag queens could be that big? Maybe Sammy could start a career on the side, in case he got tired of hunting again.
Back at the Batcave, Dean hid the bags until Sam went to bed. Then Dean quickly unpacked (making sure to leave tissue paper on the more fragile items), hanging the dresses where Sam’s jacket and shirts had once been. The stilettos were neatly arranged.
Making sure his door was locked, with a chair braced against it, Dean fell asleep, exhausted.
Dean woke to the sound of: “WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? MY CLOTHES! OH MY GOD!”
Sweet music to Dean’s ears.
“Remember Sam, red is perfect for brunettes!”
Glossary:
Bears: Large, heavy, hairy men
Tuck: Tucking your junk so it looks like you have no junk.
/p>