Title: That Smell
Characters/Pairings: Dean(15), Sam(11)
Minx Prompt #42: scissors, revenge, music
Summary: Sam thinks Dean smells, but Dean doesn’t care. Sam gets mad.
Author's Notes/Warnings: This is supposed to be humor. My first ever Sam spanks Dean fic. Song from Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Disclaimer: Maybe for my birthday, yes? J
Sam thought that Dean stunk and something awful!
There dad hadn’t been home for three days and in all of that time he couldn’t remember if Dean had taken a shower. But the reek coming from the blissfully sleeping teen pointed towards the negative.
Sam pinched his nose tighter.
And tried not to make his eyes water.
For the past three days, Sam had asked, groaned, whined and finally begged his brother to take a much needed shower.
Just after Sam had turned eleven, his father had spoken, briefly, to him about hormones and the changes his body would soon be going through. It’d been kind of gross, but it had been pretty informative.
Like, now he knew that it wasn’t just the fact that the summer heat was scorching that was making Dean smelly.
If there father was around, Dean was usually up early and very alert most of the time. When he wasn’t around, however, Sam’s big brother was as lazy as a teenager was stereotyped to be.
When Sam woke up at eight in the morning that day, Dean had barely opened one eye at him. He groaned something about breakfast, possibly telling Sam to go eat some, and then rolled over and went right back to sleep.
Sam just rolled his eyes and walked out of the room.
Half an hour later, once he had already ate a bowl of cereal for breakfast, Sam returned to grab some clothes to go shower and dress for the day.
And that was when he was attacked by the worse smell he had ever smelt in all his young life. This was quite a feat, mind you, since he lived with Dean for eleven years and when that guy ate beans or mixed tacos and milk – well it tended to get pretty toxic in the air quality.
“Oh my god!” Sam yelped, rushing out of the room and closing the door behind him. “Oh my eyes! Air!”
Sam rushed over to a window and yanked it open. The salt line was disturbed in his haste, but even that didn’t faze him as he took a deep, deep breath of fresh air.
“God! That is just sick!”
Once Sam had gathered some air, his mind began to clear up again. He closed the window and headed into the kitchen to grab their salt canister and reapply the salt line to the window. The last thing he needed was for his dad to get home and see that the line was disturbed.
When he returned the canister to the kitchen after having finished up the line, Sam went to slump over at the table. His and Dean’s school bags were hazardously dropped by the front door when they had arrived at the small rental. Thought they weren’t currently in classes, their father had gotten them a handful of books each all centered on the supernatural. They were supposed to be reading up on those, but for the past three days Sam had only opened his bag up and read the back cover to the books. Dean hadn’t even bothered to do that much.
Looking over at the bags, Sam sighed thinking that he didn’t want to read up on that when they’d just started their summer, but they weren’t allowed to watch television until after their training session. And Dean was still sleeping, so that would probably not happen for a couple more hours.
And goodness gracious and harmony! After the training session, Dean was really going to reek havoc on his senses!
“Aghh!” Sam groaned, sliding down further onto his seat.
But then he got a brilliant idea. One that not only felt justified, but was getting to be a necessity.
With renewed vigor, Sam got off the chair and dropped down to his knees besides his school bag. Opening up one of the smaller compartments, Sam rummaged through endless pencils and erasers, a broken pair of scissors that would need to be replaced, and some stickers he’d gotten throughout the preceded school year until he found what he was looking for.
Dean stretched slightly before settling back down again, rolling onto his stomach. Sam tensed, fearing that his brother would awaken before time.
He almost sighed in relief, before he remembered that he really didn’t want to have to breath in the air quite yet.
Sam tightened his hold on what he’d gotten from his school bag, a fourteen inch long, wooden ruler. He smirked evilly.
Dean groaned, wakening up enough to get up onto his elbows and start looking around. But his back was still to Sam.
“Huh? Wha? Wha appen’d?”
“Dean, man you stick! You gotten go take a damn shower already!”
Dean groaned, dropping back onto his stomach. He turned his head towards Sam, his eyes barely slit open.
“Bug off! Let a guy sleep, will ya?”
“You’re damaging my air supply!” Sam retorted, coughing slightly since he apparently couldn’t yell at Dean and keep his nose pinched closed at the same time.
Dean then turned and settled his head back into the pillows.
Sam now felt justified about what he planned to do. Dean could never seek out revenge on him, he had tried to ask nicely. Oh well.
Stepping closer to Dean’s bed, Sam tightened his right hand around the ruler; not enough to hurt himself but enough that he was comfortable thinking it would get a good force going. Well, at least he thought it would get some good movement from it. It wasn’t like he had a lot of experience on the matter.
Taking a deep breath, which he instantly regretted, Sam brought his hand back up to his shoulder before bringing it back crashing down as hard as he could to Dean’s unprotected bottom. He needed a lot of force to get through the protection offered from the slight sheets and Dean’s boxer shorts.
But it seemed effective enough.
“OWW! Sam, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean yelled flipped himself around instantly. He reached back and rubbed at the stinging strip that now throbbed on his bottom.
Sam tried to hide his satisfied smirk.
“Get your ass up and shower! You smell!”
“You’re not allowed to hit me! Gimme that!”
Sam leaned slightly away, striking at the hand that tried to take his ruler from him.
“GAH! SAM! Stop that!”
“What you’re doing is unsanitary! Go shower, you smell!”
“Sam, give me that ruler right now!”
“Oh, I will if you don’t get moving.”
Dean glared at him, but Sam stood his ground. He’d dropped his left hand from his nose after Dean had leaped up, and his eyes were starting to water, but he wasn’t going to give in until he was listened to.
“Sammy you are so dead!”
“If you head to the bathroom, I’ll stop hitting you.”
“No, you’re going to give me that ruler right now and hope I don’t break it on your ass!”
“Well, you’re going to have to take it from me.”
Dean looked indecisive. He wanted to grab the ruler from Sam’s hands and use the damned piece of wood on his brother until he was really sorry.
But he didn’t want to get smacked again.
“Ask me for the ruler again, and I’m going to hit you.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“All I’m asking you to do is shower, damnit!”
“Watch your mouth, kiddo. Unless you want me to have to spank you for swearing too!”
“You can’t spank me.”
“Oh, I can’t? Since when?”
“Since if you do, I’ll tell Dad that you used force on me for no real reason.”
“No reason! You’re hitting me! That’s reason enough!”
“I have a reason to be hitting you. I asked you yesterday and before that to shower because you were starting to stink. Now you do stink. The whole damn room stinks!”
“Then open the damn window!”
Sam brought the ruler down onto Dean’s thigh without him even really realizing he was doing it.
“Think a little, Dean! Opening the windows will damage the salt lines! Then you can forget all about me hitting you because Dad’s going to beat your ass to leather.”
“Give me that ruler, right now! So help me Sam!” Dean said, moving to the other side of his bed and making his way towards his brother.
Sam moved with him, keeping Dean at a distance and his handy ruler tight in his grasp.
“If I stuck as bad as you do right now, you’d have tossed me in the tub yourself! But I can’t do that cause I can’t carry you! And if you hurt me, I’ll tell Dad that you didn’t shower the whole time we were here and how you tried to kill me from the smell!”
Dean stopped a few steps from his bed, Sam having backed up until he was against the closet door.
“He wouldn’t care. You’re a handful anyway.”
Sam just shrugged.
“Hope your right.”
The brothers stared at each other for a bit. Sam kept his hold on the ruler tight, and he tried not to wrinkle his nose too much, what with all the movement Dean was doing. Dean tried to stare Sam down and mentally gain the advantage.
“You take another step,” Sam said, seeing when Dean was starting to move again. His brother was mobbing slower, trying not to get Sam’s attention to the movement yet, but Sam had already expected that. “And I’ll start swinging.”
“You’re going to be real sorry, kiddo.”
“I’ll die from your aroma before you ever reach me.”
“You better hope you do, because I’m gonna hold on so tight to you that all you’re ever going to remember is that smell. Nowhere you can go, Sammy. Hand over the ruler.”
“Head over to the bathroom.”
“Fine. Ruler first.”
“Once I can breathe again.”
“You stink! You stink so bad you’re like a beacon for something!”
Dean moved forward and Sam started swinging. He got Dean on the arm, the upper arm, his chest, his shoulder, and his hands before Dean finally got his hold on it.
“OW you little bastard!”
Sam could see all the little red strips forming over Dean’s arms and hands. He imagined the same would be under his tank top.
Dean got the ruler away from Sam’s hold, turned the smaller boy around and landed two smacks onto Sam’s bottom.
Dean then released Sam, dropping the ruler to the floor.
Sam knew he got away easy. He had headed out of the room like a mad dog and straight into the living room. He stood there, thinking maybe Dean was going to go after him, but he was pleasantly surprised when that didn’t occur.
Instead, Dean got out of the bedroom and actually headed into the bathroom. Moments later, Sam heard the water running in the shower and sighed in relief.
Sam sank down into one of the spaces on the couch and grabbed the TV remote. He flipped the channels, wriggling slightly as the pressure of sitting down made the two strips sting slightly.
He sure was thankful that those had just been revengeful swats instead of punishment swats, because the pain would soon alleviate. Then the water stopped.
Oh well, time to face the music. At least he’d accomplished his mission.