fic: Cry Mercy!
Title: Cry Mercy!
Author: uselessplayback
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Crack! Pink! Paisley!
Word Count: 1,970
Summary: Dean and Castiel start a prank war. Sam suffers.
Notes: Uh, so--actually I have no explanation for this. Especially considering I haven't posted anything remotely like fic in, uh, a while, and considering I was actually working on a totally different story when I decided to write this one. Beta'd by theparadoxism but any mistakes after the transfer to LJ are mine.
Cry Mercy!
"Fine," Dean had said. "You want a fight? We'll do it my way."
And Castiel had said, "Alright, Dean. I agree to these terms."
Nowhere in there did Dean actually remember declaring a prank war-except that he apparently had.
The thing is, Dean forgot about it for a couple of days afterward, caught up in feeling smug like he'd won something because Castiel had agreed. So, he didn't actually realize what he'd made Castiel agree to until he woke up one morning covered in frogs.
Dean blinked. One of the frogs hopped up onto his chest and stared balefully into his eyes.
"Dude," Sam said from the other bed. "What did you do?"
The problem with frogs was that they didn't stay where they were put; they kind of climbed all over everything. The other thing about frogs was that they were small and a couple of them lost life and limb when Dean tried to climb out of bed.
"Oh, it's on now, bitch!" Dean yelled up at the ceiling. He and Sam spent most of the day either herding the frogs back out into nature or scraping their pitiful remains out of the carpet. As an opening move, Dean had to grudgingly admit it was kind of genius even if Sam didn't think it was particularly original.
--
Dean's return volley kind of misfired. It turned out there wasn't really a whole lot a guy could do to an angel. He tried to reference all of the genius pranks he'd pulled on Sam, but it wasn't like he could sneak into Castiel's underwear drawer and pepper his boxers. For one thing, Dean had only ever seen Castiel wear one set of clothes and he didn't seem inclined to take them off. Dean had never seen Castiel sleep either, so it wasn't like Dean could short sheet his bed.
Superglue didn't really work either. He'd tried that the next time Castiel visited them at a diner while Sam was taking a bathroom break. As soon as Castiel caught onto it, he shook his hand and the stuff just dissolved. Castiel had given Dean a flat look and said, "I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that."
Dean shrugged because, OK, compared to a plague of frogs? Not really all that slick, but he was working with human limitations.
"I'll think of something," Dean promised and Castiel smiled just a little.
"I look forward to your solution." Castiel said and blinked out.
When Dean got up to leave, he felt like something was missing but he couldn't really put his finger on what. He turned back to look at the table but he hadn't left anything behind. Shrugging, Dean headed for the door.
"Uh, Dean?" Sam asked looking at Dean's legs. "Didn't you come in here with pants?"
Dean looked down. There, in front of god and a diner full of people, Dean stood in his boxers. Distantly, he heard a woman's voice telling her kid not to stare.
"Castiel, you bastard," Dean muttered and walked out of the diner, boots loud in the sudden shocked silence. Sam trailed along behind him but took care to stay as far back as he could just in case people thought they were related.
--
A couple days later, Dean unloaded Castiel from his car and dragged him into the motel. Sam gave Dean a panicked look when he opened the door but his expression changed when he saw what fell out of Dean's pocket.
"Dean," Sam said warningly. "Please tell me you didn't just roofie an angel."
"I would except the evidence is passed out right in front of you." Dean said cheerfully, dumping Castiel on his bed and digging around in his bag.
"Oh my god," Sam said, mortified and trying to hide his face in his hands.
"No, Sammy, this is all me." Dean said, shaking a can of shaving cream. "Now get out of my way. It took me hours just to knock him out and I'm not sure how much longer it's gonna last."
Castiel woke up half an hour later and Dean admired his handiwork. He'd made good use of a roll of duct tape, shaving cream and a permanent marker. He was particularly proud of the eyes drawn on the back of Castiel's eyelids that had stared blankly up at him while Castiel had his own closed. He was also fond of the work he'd done on Castiel's chest. The heart with the arrow through it reading: "God," gave him a chuckle even if he was more fond of "Dean's bitch" which was scrawled sloppily across Castiel's stomach. Dean had left Castiel's shirt open and untucked to get the full effect.
Castiel sat up gingerly, looking first at Dean and then at Sam who stared at the television with a purpose, trying manfully to ignore everything that was going on behind him.
"Hi, Cas," Dean said cheerfully, wiggling his fingers in a tiny wave. "Sleep well?" Castiel's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he stood up, leaving bits of shaving cream behind.
Castiel paused when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, studying his reflection and pulling his shirt open wider to see what Dean had written on his chest.
"Very creative, Dean." Castiel said, nodding at Dean. Dean sat up a little straighter. Then Castiel waved a hand over himself and most of Dean's work disappeared.
"Man," Dean said, whining a little. "That's cheating."
"I believe drugging my coffee was also cheating."
"You let me do that?" Dean asked.
"I was . . . curious."
"Oh my god," Sam said, still not looking at either of them. "I don't know you people."
They both turned to Sam and back to each other.
"I'm afraid you will regret this, Dean." Castiel told him very seriously.
"Bring it," Dean said, baring his teeth. Castiel nodded once and disappeared.
Dean had been feeling generous after his tiny human victory, but that didn't mean he'd wanted to tell Castiel that he'd missed the markings on his eyelids.
--
Dean waited a couple of days for Castiel to make his move but nothing came. He should have been tense and edgy but he sort of forgot to be wary. So, he wasn't really prepared the next time Castiel showed up, perching in a chair across the table from Dean and watching with almost scientific curiosity while the girl in Dean’s lap did all sorts of crazy things with her tongue to Dean's neck.
"I don't believe that hair is of a color found in nature," Castiel said musingly, ignoring Dean's telling gestures to get the fuck out of there and leave him alone.
Dean groaned and the girl in his lap took this as a sign that everything was proceeding well but, really, it was so far from well.
"Cas," Dean gritted out. "Kind of busy here."
"Yes," Castiel said. "I can see that." Then he smiled a very slow, very un-angelic smile that made Dean's blood run hot and cold at the same time. "I've left you a gift outside."
Dean's eyes widened. "Cas," he said, all but pushing the girl off his lap and standing up. "Tell me you didn't."
"I believe you can determine that for yourself." Castiel told him smugly and disappeared.
Outside, the Impala waited, now a bright pink definitely not found in nature. It also had wings. Painted across the windshield in the neatest hand Dean had seen outside of a boarding school were the words "Turnabout is fair play" and a smaller, almost hesitant "(bitch.)"
"Castiel!" Dean screamed.
When he drove the car back to the motel, all thoughts of sex forgotten in a haze of fury, Dean noticed that the car actually hovered off the ground if he drove faster than sixty miles an hour.
The car was back to normal the next morning but Dean still felt like someone had egged his house.
--
Dean spent the next couple of days perfecting a spell to leave messages on angel radio. He'd tried to rope Sam into it but Sam had refused.
"I'm not getting in this middle of this, Dean." Sam said. "So, no. I will not help you make prank calls to heaven."
The only down side to crafting a spell to leave messages on a radio station Dean couldn't hear was that he had no idea if it worked or not. He made up for this by leaving a lot of messages. The other downside was that he had to leave the messages in Latin for the spell to work, so he spent a lot more time than he usually would have translating insults that would have made a twelve year old proud-but a twelve year old would not have laughed as hard as Dean did.
Dean ran out of energy sometime in the middle of the night and passed out on the desk, slumped over his notebook and a Latin dictionary, which was how Castiel found him the next day. When Dean woke, Castiel was frowning down at him like he was trying to figure out what Dean could have been up to.
Dean sat up and stretched but paused when he realized someone else was in the room with them.
"Who's that?" Dean asked, eyeing the guy who was playing with the curtains like he'd never seen them before. The guy was shorter than Castiel and balding in a way that made him look tonsured. He also wore the most hideous paisley tie Dean had ever seen.
"That is not important, Dean Winchester. I am merely here as an observer," the other guy started to say and then stopped, cocking his head like he was listening to something. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed Castiel doing the same thing. As Dean watched, Castiel's expression flattened into something that was more menacing than impassivity.
"Brother," the Hideous Tie said, sounding both shocked and disapproving. "Such covetousness is not seemly."
"I apologize," Castiel murmured and bowed his head as if in penance but his eyes were fixed on Dean. Dean swallowed.
"Oh," said Hideous Tie, nearly collapsing with relief. "It seems someone has found a means of disrupting our communications. I will return."
The guy and his paisley tie blinked out.
"Indeed," Castiel said dryly, his eyes never leaving Dean. "I wonder who could have caused such a disturbance."
Dean laughed a little uncomfortably, shifting awkwardly in his seat because there was something about the way that Castiel was looking at him that made parts of Dean sit up and take notice. "Come on, it was a little funny."
Castiel was suddenly looming over Dean. "I'll admit," Castiel said, face inches from Dean's, eyes dark. "The vehicle was clever but the content leaves much to be desired."
Dean licked his lips nervously and Castiel's eyes flicked down to watch the movement. "Huh," Dean thought and did it again watching Castiel's eyes darken further. Dean felt himself smiling a little.
"I guess I won that round, then," Dean said taking care to drag his tongue a little more deliberately over his lower lip when he licked it again.
"I doubt you could top yourself after that prank, Dean." Castiel murmured, leaning in just a little like he couldn't help himself.
Dean grinned. "I think I could." He said and leaned up to close the distance.
Castiel made a sound in the back of his throat and opened up under Dean's tongue, letting Dean explore his mouth for a while, then he grabbed Dean's face and kissed back, hard, wet and messy. Dean groaned, grabbing handfuls of Castiel's coat and pulling him closer.
Then the door opened.
"Oh, god," Sam hissed. "My eyes." And the door slammed shut.
Against Castiel's mouth, Dean laughed.
-end-
Author: uselessplayback
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Crack! Pink! Paisley!
Word Count: 1,970
Summary: Dean and Castiel start a prank war. Sam suffers.
Notes: Uh, so--actually I have no explanation for this. Especially considering I haven't posted anything remotely like fic in, uh, a while, and considering I was actually working on a totally different story when I decided to write this one. Beta'd by theparadoxism but any mistakes after the transfer to LJ are mine.
Cry Mercy!
"Fine," Dean had said. "You want a fight? We'll do it my way."
And Castiel had said, "Alright, Dean. I agree to these terms."
Nowhere in there did Dean actually remember declaring a prank war-except that he apparently had.
The thing is, Dean forgot about it for a couple of days afterward, caught up in feeling smug like he'd won something because Castiel had agreed. So, he didn't actually realize what he'd made Castiel agree to until he woke up one morning covered in frogs.
Dean blinked. One of the frogs hopped up onto his chest and stared balefully into his eyes.
"Dude," Sam said from the other bed. "What did you do?"
The problem with frogs was that they didn't stay where they were put; they kind of climbed all over everything. The other thing about frogs was that they were small and a couple of them lost life and limb when Dean tried to climb out of bed.
"Oh, it's on now, bitch!" Dean yelled up at the ceiling. He and Sam spent most of the day either herding the frogs back out into nature or scraping their pitiful remains out of the carpet. As an opening move, Dean had to grudgingly admit it was kind of genius even if Sam didn't think it was particularly original.
--
Dean's return volley kind of misfired. It turned out there wasn't really a whole lot a guy could do to an angel. He tried to reference all of the genius pranks he'd pulled on Sam, but it wasn't like he could sneak into Castiel's underwear drawer and pepper his boxers. For one thing, Dean had only ever seen Castiel wear one set of clothes and he didn't seem inclined to take them off. Dean had never seen Castiel sleep either, so it wasn't like Dean could short sheet his bed.
Superglue didn't really work either. He'd tried that the next time Castiel visited them at a diner while Sam was taking a bathroom break. As soon as Castiel caught onto it, he shook his hand and the stuff just dissolved. Castiel had given Dean a flat look and said, "I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that."
Dean shrugged because, OK, compared to a plague of frogs? Not really all that slick, but he was working with human limitations.
"I'll think of something," Dean promised and Castiel smiled just a little.
"I look forward to your solution." Castiel said and blinked out.
When Dean got up to leave, he felt like something was missing but he couldn't really put his finger on what. He turned back to look at the table but he hadn't left anything behind. Shrugging, Dean headed for the door.
"Uh, Dean?" Sam asked looking at Dean's legs. "Didn't you come in here with pants?"
Dean looked down. There, in front of god and a diner full of people, Dean stood in his boxers. Distantly, he heard a woman's voice telling her kid not to stare.
"Castiel, you bastard," Dean muttered and walked out of the diner, boots loud in the sudden shocked silence. Sam trailed along behind him but took care to stay as far back as he could just in case people thought they were related.
--
A couple days later, Dean unloaded Castiel from his car and dragged him into the motel. Sam gave Dean a panicked look when he opened the door but his expression changed when he saw what fell out of Dean's pocket.
"Dean," Sam said warningly. "Please tell me you didn't just roofie an angel."
"I would except the evidence is passed out right in front of you." Dean said cheerfully, dumping Castiel on his bed and digging around in his bag.
"Oh my god," Sam said, mortified and trying to hide his face in his hands.
"No, Sammy, this is all me." Dean said, shaking a can of shaving cream. "Now get out of my way. It took me hours just to knock him out and I'm not sure how much longer it's gonna last."
Castiel woke up half an hour later and Dean admired his handiwork. He'd made good use of a roll of duct tape, shaving cream and a permanent marker. He was particularly proud of the eyes drawn on the back of Castiel's eyelids that had stared blankly up at him while Castiel had his own closed. He was also fond of the work he'd done on Castiel's chest. The heart with the arrow through it reading: "God," gave him a chuckle even if he was more fond of "Dean's bitch" which was scrawled sloppily across Castiel's stomach. Dean had left Castiel's shirt open and untucked to get the full effect.
Castiel sat up gingerly, looking first at Dean and then at Sam who stared at the television with a purpose, trying manfully to ignore everything that was going on behind him.
"Hi, Cas," Dean said cheerfully, wiggling his fingers in a tiny wave. "Sleep well?" Castiel's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he stood up, leaving bits of shaving cream behind.
Castiel paused when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, studying his reflection and pulling his shirt open wider to see what Dean had written on his chest.
"Very creative, Dean." Castiel said, nodding at Dean. Dean sat up a little straighter. Then Castiel waved a hand over himself and most of Dean's work disappeared.
"Man," Dean said, whining a little. "That's cheating."
"I believe drugging my coffee was also cheating."
"You let me do that?" Dean asked.
"I was . . . curious."
"Oh my god," Sam said, still not looking at either of them. "I don't know you people."
They both turned to Sam and back to each other.
"I'm afraid you will regret this, Dean." Castiel told him very seriously.
"Bring it," Dean said, baring his teeth. Castiel nodded once and disappeared.
Dean had been feeling generous after his tiny human victory, but that didn't mean he'd wanted to tell Castiel that he'd missed the markings on his eyelids.
--
Dean waited a couple of days for Castiel to make his move but nothing came. He should have been tense and edgy but he sort of forgot to be wary. So, he wasn't really prepared the next time Castiel showed up, perching in a chair across the table from Dean and watching with almost scientific curiosity while the girl in Dean’s lap did all sorts of crazy things with her tongue to Dean's neck.
"I don't believe that hair is of a color found in nature," Castiel said musingly, ignoring Dean's telling gestures to get the fuck out of there and leave him alone.
Dean groaned and the girl in his lap took this as a sign that everything was proceeding well but, really, it was so far from well.
"Cas," Dean gritted out. "Kind of busy here."
"Yes," Castiel said. "I can see that." Then he smiled a very slow, very un-angelic smile that made Dean's blood run hot and cold at the same time. "I've left you a gift outside."
Dean's eyes widened. "Cas," he said, all but pushing the girl off his lap and standing up. "Tell me you didn't."
"I believe you can determine that for yourself." Castiel told him smugly and disappeared.
Outside, the Impala waited, now a bright pink definitely not found in nature. It also had wings. Painted across the windshield in the neatest hand Dean had seen outside of a boarding school were the words "Turnabout is fair play" and a smaller, almost hesitant "(bitch.)"
"Castiel!" Dean screamed.
When he drove the car back to the motel, all thoughts of sex forgotten in a haze of fury, Dean noticed that the car actually hovered off the ground if he drove faster than sixty miles an hour.
The car was back to normal the next morning but Dean still felt like someone had egged his house.
--
Dean spent the next couple of days perfecting a spell to leave messages on angel radio. He'd tried to rope Sam into it but Sam had refused.
"I'm not getting in this middle of this, Dean." Sam said. "So, no. I will not help you make prank calls to heaven."
The only down side to crafting a spell to leave messages on a radio station Dean couldn't hear was that he had no idea if it worked or not. He made up for this by leaving a lot of messages. The other downside was that he had to leave the messages in Latin for the spell to work, so he spent a lot more time than he usually would have translating insults that would have made a twelve year old proud-but a twelve year old would not have laughed as hard as Dean did.
Dean ran out of energy sometime in the middle of the night and passed out on the desk, slumped over his notebook and a Latin dictionary, which was how Castiel found him the next day. When Dean woke, Castiel was frowning down at him like he was trying to figure out what Dean could have been up to.
Dean sat up and stretched but paused when he realized someone else was in the room with them.
"Who's that?" Dean asked, eyeing the guy who was playing with the curtains like he'd never seen them before. The guy was shorter than Castiel and balding in a way that made him look tonsured. He also wore the most hideous paisley tie Dean had ever seen.
"That is not important, Dean Winchester. I am merely here as an observer," the other guy started to say and then stopped, cocking his head like he was listening to something. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed Castiel doing the same thing. As Dean watched, Castiel's expression flattened into something that was more menacing than impassivity.
"Brother," the Hideous Tie said, sounding both shocked and disapproving. "Such covetousness is not seemly."
"I apologize," Castiel murmured and bowed his head as if in penance but his eyes were fixed on Dean. Dean swallowed.
"Oh," said Hideous Tie, nearly collapsing with relief. "It seems someone has found a means of disrupting our communications. I will return."
The guy and his paisley tie blinked out.
"Indeed," Castiel said dryly, his eyes never leaving Dean. "I wonder who could have caused such a disturbance."
Dean laughed a little uncomfortably, shifting awkwardly in his seat because there was something about the way that Castiel was looking at him that made parts of Dean sit up and take notice. "Come on, it was a little funny."
Castiel was suddenly looming over Dean. "I'll admit," Castiel said, face inches from Dean's, eyes dark. "The vehicle was clever but the content leaves much to be desired."
Dean licked his lips nervously and Castiel's eyes flicked down to watch the movement. "Huh," Dean thought and did it again watching Castiel's eyes darken further. Dean felt himself smiling a little.
"I guess I won that round, then," Dean said taking care to drag his tongue a little more deliberately over his lower lip when he licked it again.
"I doubt you could top yourself after that prank, Dean." Castiel murmured, leaning in just a little like he couldn't help himself.
Dean grinned. "I think I could." He said and leaned up to close the distance.
Castiel made a sound in the back of his throat and opened up under Dean's tongue, letting Dean explore his mouth for a while, then he grabbed Dean's face and kissed back, hard, wet and messy. Dean groaned, grabbing handfuls of Castiel's coat and pulling him closer.
Then the door opened.
"Oh, god," Sam hissed. "My eyes." And the door slammed shut.
Against Castiel's mouth, Dean laughed.
-end-