The Product of Boredom
Part 1 by mamapranayama
Part 2 bymonicawoe
Part 3 by zzxjoanw
Part 4 by phebemarie
Part 5 by mamapranayama
Part 6 by summerholt
Dean stepped out of the shower and looked at his reflection in the mirror. While he never grew tired of seeing such a fine example of a superior male physique, he had used all of the hot water trying to scrub himself clean to no avail. He looked like a freakin’ Oompa Loompa with a flower on one cheek and the moon and stars on the other in permanent marker courtesy of his little brother. His soon to be dead little brother he thought to himself as he sighed. At least the princess would have to take a cold shower.
Thinking back on their little war so far, Dean realized that Sam had had green hair, pink underwear and purple shirts. And he himself still had orange skin and what looked the drawings of a five-year old school girl on his face. Between the two of them, they looked like they had tasted the rainbow. If he were worried about things getting out of hand, now would be the time to put a stop to all of this. But Dean wasn’t that guy. No, he was more concerned that Sammy hadn’t learned his lesson yet. He should know better than to try and outshine the Master Prankster. Sammy clearly had not acknowledged defeat. That just meant he needed to take things in a new direction.
As he pulled a t-shirt on over his head, he knew just what he was going to do. Gathering his shaving kit, he stepped out of the bathroom and smiled at his brother. “Hey bitch, I think I left you a drop or two of hot water if you want to take a shower.”
Sam stood under the shower as the lukewarm water beat down on him. It wasn’t hot, but he was still glad he had waited for awhile after Dean was finished before he claimed the bathroom as his. He was not in the mood for an ice cold shower. As he reached for the soap, he thought he heard something above the blare of the television.
Dean had plopped down on one of the beds earlier and when he had found a repeat of Die Hard showing on AMC he had put the volume on full blast. If there had been guests in the other rooms, they surely could have heard the movie at its current volume in all over the whole motel. As it was, they were the only ones here for the night. It was loud enough to give Sam a headache, but Dean just ignored his repeated attempts to ask him to turn it down, feigning deafness.
“Dean, is that you?” he called out above noise of the shower. When he didn’t get an answer he shrugged it off and continued with washing up. He would realize later that was a mistake.
As Sam turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, he reached across to the towel bar to grab one, only to come up empty handed. When he turned and looked around, it dawned on him that there were no towels in the bathroom at all. None. He was almost sure there had been one or two when he had come in here a few minutes ago. As he shook his head in disgust, drops of water fell down his face. Apparently this was Dean’s most recent attempt to get back at him for the new “tattoos” Sam had given him while he was asleep.
Attempting to shake some of the water off as he went, he stepped out of the bathroom to look for his brother. “Really Dean? That’s all you got left? Stealing my towels while I am in the shower?”
But he was met with only the sound of Bruce Willis saying “Yippe-ki-yay” from the television. Dean was gone. And another quick glance around revealed there were no towels out here either.
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to squeeze out more of the water as he noticed a small puddle collecting at his feet. It was not very original of Dean, but then again he had resorted to acting like a seven-year old when he had drawn on his brother’s face. What he didn’t understand is why Dean didn’t stick around to see the results of his weak attempt. No matter, he would simply get dressed. He might end up a sticky mess if he got dressed still wet but it was better than standing around naked. Besides, as he felt a shiver go down his back, he suddenly became aware of how cold he was.
As he looked around for his duffle bag, he didn’t see it. So he looked under both beds and in the closet, turning off the television as he did so. The duffle bag wasn’t in any of those locations. For that matter, he didn’t see Dean’s bag anywhere. Darn it! That is where his brother went. He took all of their clothes out of the room, so Sam would be wet and naked. And cold. Sam realized that the air conditioner was going at full blast as he had goose pimples all over his skin. Well that was one thing he could do something about. He stepped towards the air conditioner to turn the unit off, but when he reached for the control, he saw that the knob had been pulled off.
“DEAN!” Sam yelled to no one in particular as he turned around in frustration. He wasn’t about to give up though. He might be cold and wet, but he still had resources available to him. He could pull the sheets off the bed and use those to dry off with. Not his bed of course. He would use Dean’s sheets. And then wrap up in Dean’s blanket to keep warm. He would make up Dean’s bed so he would be none the wiser until he pulled the tacky gold comforter back later that night to reveal a stained mattress without sheets.
But as Sam moved towards the bed a tiny light coming from the table caught his eye. As he looked closer, he saw that it was the web cam light from his laptop. “So that is why Dean didn’t stick around to see me suffer,” Sam muttered under his breath. “He is recording the show to watch later. I guess I will just have to replace it with something else.”
Sam walked over to the laptop to turn the camera off but just then the door began to open. Expecting his brother, he turned to demand his clothes back. Instead, a middle aged woman in a hotel uniform complete with the nametag “Sally” came through the door after she announced “Housekeeping!” She had a stack of towels in her hand but they flew into the air as she let out a startled yelp at the sight of Sam, naked and dripping wet in front of her.
Looking around and deciding he lacked any other options, Sam dove face first onto the nearest bed.
“Your, um, your um,…he said you were out of towels,” Sally managed to stammer out. “He didn’t tell me anyone was in here.”
“Ya think?” Sam shouted out from his position on the bed. “I will pick them up off the floor. Thanks, but could you just go now?”
He was so going to get Dean for this.
“You don’t tug on Superman’s cape,” Dean sang to himself as he sat down at Sam’s laptop. “You don’t spit into the wind.”
The kid had been furious at him for leaving him cold, wet and naked in the motel room before sending Sally in to surprise him. But Sam didn’t know the half of it. Dean had recorded it all on Sam’s own laptop for his viewing pleasure.
He went to the video files and found where he had saved the recording, under the aptly titled “Sammy Wearing a Smile.” As he pulled it up and pressed play, he saw his brother appear on the screen. His completely dry, dressed-in-a-motel-robe brother.
“Hello, Dean,” Sam began with a smile. “I know you were expecting a much different show than this. But I have told you before not to mess with my laptop. So instead of whatever it was you were expecting, you get to watch yourself instead. Did you really think you were the first one to consider recording any of our pranks? I have been doing it much longer. I had hoped to wait and use this down the road somewhere, but you left me no choice. I hope you enjoy the show.”
As the video continued, Dean watched in horror as he saw himself fight with a useless mattress over a broken magic fingers, spitting liquid out furiously from his flask, a time-lapsed portion with him applying lotion and his skin slowly turning orange, and finally Sammy drawing on his face one night as he slept like a baby. Almost every trick his little bitch of a brother had pulled on him was right there before his eyes. But if Sam thought that this was a pay back prank, his brother was losing his touch.
When Dean had finally come back from whatever excursion he had been on, he only relented and gave Sam his clothes when Sam told him in full detail what happened. Not that it did him much good to have pink underwear and purple shirts back.
So Sam decided to leave Dean alone in the motel room to discover his little video while he went to the local Goodwill to get some more clothes. It was never easy to find things in his size, but at least at the Goodwill there were be fewer strange looks at the purple shirt.
As he was sorting through the few things that were in his size, he had another idea. After all, while Dean certainly wouldn’t enjoy watching that video, it was no where near the prank worthy. If Dean was going to mess with his clothes, well then, Dean’s clothes were fair game, too.
Dean stepped out of the shower and once again regarded the perfect specimen that was staring back at him from the mirror. Damn, he would never get tired of seeing that gorgeous face every morning.
He had figured now would be a good time to take a shower since Sam was out and about. He didn’t want to risk Sam trying to pull a fast one on him while he was vulnerable. But the towels were still there so he felt that all was good. After drying off, he slung one around his hips and walked out into the room. Surprisingly, Sam had returned and was quietly researching on his laptop. “Hey,” Sam said, barely looking up.
Dean nodded at him and walked passed him to his duffle. As he opened it to pull out clothes, he stopped short. “What is this, Francis?” he demanded as he held up a large pink blouse with blue flowers and white butterflies on it and the matching set of Capri pants.
Sam gave him a blank stare. “Clothes, maybe.”
“Chick clothes, princess,” Dean scowled as he searched through the rest of the bag. “Something you would wear. This is full of sundresses, leggings and floral nighties. Where are my jeans, my henleys, my ACDC t-shirt?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Sam answered with a smirk. “Maybe the Goodwill got an unexpected donation today.”