The first few times Sam came out of the mall without new jeans and holding a fluffy teddy bear under one arm, Dean was nonplussed. Sure, his brother is kind of, well, a woman, but every damn time, the little bear has a tiny dress on and a bow around its ear. It gets to the point where Dean won't even let Sam into the malls anymore.
"But, Dean," Sam always whines when Dean tells him to stay the fuck in the car; "Dean, why can't I come?"
Usually, Dean would take the time to admire the lewd jokes he could happily make about that question, but when teddy bears are on the line, he doesn't want to take the chance of being distracted. This is serious, after all.
"Why, Sam? Because you'll buy a bear. With a bow. And then I'll have to commit ritual suicide to restore the honor to our family line," Dean says, securing the rope around Sam's wrists. Sam could easily pick it if he really wanted to, but it's the idea that's really going to keep his brother in the car more than anything. Once the final knot is done, Dean pats Sam on the chest, feeling confident. "Besides, I like tying you up. Gives me a real high."
Sam doesn't rise to the bait, just looking up at Dean through reproachful bangs. Dean sighs and taps his fingers along the dashboard.
"I'll bring you back a slice of pizza, babe," he says, consolingly. "Try not to, like, pee on the leather or anything."
He slams the door on Sam's pissy face, trying not to hear all of those impressive curses his brother is throwing at him through the glass, and turns on his heel.
His first stop is the Wal-Mart, where he carefully chooses the cheapest of everything he can get from his list. Who knew Wal-Mart carried bullets this far north? After that, he heads through the stupid extend-a-hallway into the main part of the mall, past the food-court and over to the occult shop - they're out of sage and white candles, so he grabs a couple bundles of sage and sniff-tests the candles to make sure they aren't, like, vanilla scented or anything, and then buys enough for a few weeks with Jacob Whettson's credit card.
He's mentally checking off the things on his list when he passes the mall's Build-a-Bear. It's with a sense of helpless dread that he sees Sam's head bobbing above the tide of children, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Dean manfully reigns in the urge to stomp his foot and throw a tantrum. Instead, he goes into the grotesquely yellow store and grabs Sam by the arm just as his little brother is picking out a bear with pink and red hearts all over it's furry body.
"I thought you were going to stay in the car, Sam," he growls, pulling until Sam has no choice but to follow. Dean thinks he's probably leaving bruises, but, well, he doesn't care. Fucking hearts? No. Really, just no.
Sam makes a small whimpery noise when they pass the threshold of the store, back into the main concourse, like it physically hurts him not to be making a stuffed bear. "B-but, Dean. I have to -"
"You don't have to do anything but get your skinny white ass back into my car and pray that I'll be merciful when I beat that same ass red and black later," Dean hisses, and Sam's gibbering trails off. His eyes are wide and glossy, startled.
He swallows, and Dean can hear it even from as far away as he is. "You're gonna spank me?" he asks, voice tiny.
"Yes, Sammy. Hard." Something in Sam's posture changes, his spine stiffening and his gait a little lopsided, like he's compensating for some extra -
"Ahaha," Dean says smugly. "Someone's getting off on the idea, isn't he? If I'da known this was all it would take..." Sam flushes, cheeks turning as red as the ridiculous hearts on that bear, but he follows along after Dean back to the car without protest, and when he gets into the passenger seat, he has to slide down a little to relieve the pressure on his hard dick.
"This," Dean grins, revving the engine, "is gonna be fun."
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"But, Dean," Sam always whines when Dean tells him to stay the fuck in the car; "Dean, why can't I come?"
Usually, Dean would take the time to admire the lewd jokes he could happily make about that question, but when teddy bears are on the line, he doesn't want to take the chance of being distracted. This is serious, after all.
"Why, Sam? Because you'll buy a bear. With a bow. And then I'll have to commit ritual suicide to restore the honor to our family line," Dean says, securing the rope around Sam's wrists. Sam could easily pick it if he really wanted to, but it's the idea that's really going to keep his brother in the car more than anything. Once the final knot is done, Dean pats Sam on the chest, feeling confident. "Besides, I like tying you up. Gives me a real high."
Sam doesn't rise to the bait, just looking up at Dean through reproachful bangs. Dean sighs and taps his fingers along the dashboard.
"I'll bring you back a slice of pizza, babe," he says, consolingly. "Try not to, like, pee on the leather or anything."
He slams the door on Sam's pissy face, trying not to hear all of those impressive curses his brother is throwing at him through the glass, and turns on his heel.
His first stop is the Wal-Mart, where he carefully chooses the cheapest of everything he can get from his list. Who knew Wal-Mart carried bullets this far north? After that, he heads through the stupid extend-a-hallway into the main part of the mall, past the food-court and over to the occult shop - they're out of sage and white candles, so he grabs a couple bundles of sage and sniff-tests the candles to make sure they aren't, like, vanilla scented or anything, and then buys enough for a few weeks with Jacob Whettson's credit card.
He's mentally checking off the things on his list when he passes the mall's Build-a-Bear. It's with a sense of helpless dread that he sees Sam's head bobbing above the tide of children, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Dean manfully reigns in the urge to stomp his foot and throw a tantrum. Instead, he goes into the grotesquely yellow store and grabs Sam by the arm just as his little brother is picking out a bear with pink and red hearts all over it's furry body.
"I thought you were going to stay in the car, Sam," he growls, pulling until Sam has no choice but to follow. Dean thinks he's probably leaving bruises, but, well, he doesn't care. Fucking hearts? No. Really, just no.
Sam makes a small whimpery noise when they pass the threshold of the store, back into the main concourse, like it physically hurts him not to be making a stuffed bear. "B-but, Dean. I have to -"
"You don't have to do anything but get your skinny white ass back into my car and pray that I'll be merciful when I beat that same ass red and black later," Dean hisses, and Sam's gibbering trails off. His eyes are wide and glossy, startled.
He swallows, and Dean can hear it even from as far away as he is. "You're gonna spank me?" he asks, voice tiny.
"Yes, Sammy. Hard." Something in Sam's posture changes, his spine stiffening and his gait a little lopsided, like he's compensating for some extra -
"Ahaha," Dean says smugly. "Someone's getting off on the idea, isn't he? If I'da known this was all it would take..." Sam flushes, cheeks turning as red as the ridiculous hearts on that bear, but he follows along after Dean back to the car without protest, and when he gets into the passenger seat, he has to slide down a little to relieve the pressure on his hard dick.
"This," Dean grins, revving the engine, "is gonna be fun."