Disclaimer: I'm just messing with our favourite boys, but nothing about the show is mine, only this plot.
Beta: Thank-you Jude for the Beta-work. You are absolutely wonderful.
A/N: I just had to write a little comedy piece. This story literally came at me from out of nowhere, and then I just couldn't stop writing it, staying up well past midnight 3 days in a row. I hope you enjoy this little piece of fun, which is pretty much the 'next 100 miles' after Hell House.
What NOT To Do On A Rainy Day
Chapter 1
Yet another rainy day... Dean was beginning to hate springtime. At least in the other seasons he could have some fun, but what fun could he have, sitting around all day in a dingy hotel room, staring outside as the rain pattered hard against the window as evening approached.
It was the twelfth rainy day in a row. Dean had finally forced Sam to leave their last hideous motel room, only to end up in an even worse one, looking as if it hadn't been used since the Precambrian era. The walls were painted a light puke green with sponge orange dots. The gross, pale-green carpet appeared to have been trampled on by dinosaurs, judging by the holes in it. But the beds... Well, the beds were the worst of it. Dean had, much to his dismay, lost the coin toss as to who would sleep on the broken bed. As soon as he'd sat down, the small frame of the bed gave a load groan, and Dean fell right into it. The springs in the frame were so worn away; they couldn't hold a person. The mattresses were rock hard. Dean had a suspicion that maybe the owners were cavemen. The bedspreads were an awful dark pink with forest green stripes and smelled of cats and sex.
Dean couldn't imagine anything worse as the melancholy hunter stared out the window. Not even a demon would be out in this weather.
He sighed deeply as he listened to the sound of running water from the bathroom as Sam took an overly long shower. Dean slouched a little lower in the seat as the rain seemed to only increase. The clouds were dark and dismal. The wind and rain rapped hard against anything in its way, which would scare the bravest man.
He hated rainy days.
Sam finally emerged from the shower, soaking wet, with a brown towel wrapped around his waist. Walking past Dean and the window, Sam dug around in his bag for a pair of grayish boxers and a white T-shirt. On his way back to the bathroom, Sam shook his wet hair fiercely, wetting Dean with most of the spray.
Dean jumped from the sudden impact of water on his warm skin, glaring at Sam's backside as he quickly retreated to the bathroom.
The older brother couldn't take it any longer. He was like a trapped lion, wanting to get out and be free. He hated being trapped inside with nothing for company but an annoying little brother. Dean absently wiped the shower water off his cheek and glanced over at Sam's laptop.
What if he could have a little fun?
Sam had been messing with him for a long time; now maybe it was payback. Dean listened closely to the soft sounds coming from the bathroom, not sure of when Sam would be coming out again.
He got his answer, though, as Sam emerged in his pajamas. Hair already beginning to dry, Sam didn't even stop and look at Dean as he once again walked over to his bag. Dean nonchalantly studied Sam as his brother grabbed a blue toothbrush from the bag.
Dean inwardly smiled as Sam shut the door on the bathroom once more. Quickly getting up, Dean sat in front of Sam's laptop. He could only hope this night was like every other night; Sam would brush his teeth, floss, then floss one more time. Dean shook his head at his brother's bravado at perfect teeth.
Pushing the thoughts away, he got to work on the computer.
Five minutes later Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, shutting the light off behind him, and, without a second glance, went over to his computer. He opened the lid, frowning a little as he recalled himself leaving it open, but forgot about that as he saw his screen black.
Sam tried to scroll the screen, thinking maybe that the screen saver was on, but, when there was no response from the 1-month-old computer, Sam immediately got suspicious. "What the hell did you do to my computer?" Sam looked over at Dean who was testing the bed's limits as he bounced up and down on it.
Dean heard his brother, but kept his face averted and remained silent. He wasn't sure of his own ability to stop himself from laughing.
"Dean!"
Older brother stifled a small laugh, looking over at his brother who was holding his laptop as if it was going to fall apart in his hands.
Sam looked from his brother to the computer and back again before growling, "What the hell have you done to my laptop?"
Dean used every muscle in his face to avoid smiling. "What's wrong?"
Sam turned the blank screen towards Dean. "It's not turning on!"
Dean couldn't think of a non-suspicious response, so he stared blankly at Sam, attemping to keep is face as straight as possible.
Sam glowered at his brother and tried to turn the computer on by resetting it. But neither the power nor the reset button was having any effect on the small computer. Sam's anger was slowly turning into concern as he looked helplessly at the screen.
Dean looked away from his brother, pretending to be frustrated with the cheap bed as he examined the mattress. Hearing an audible sigh from Sam, and then a few clicks and scraps, Dean looked over to find his brother dismantling the computer.
Dean walked over to Sam to seem like he was being helpful. "Well, what's wrong with it?"
Sam's face flashed with anger. "You know darned well what's wrong. I know you did something to it."
"Why would I do that?"
Sam grabbed a nearby flashlight and looked at the tiny components of the laptop. "Because I know you. You get cranky when locked up for too long."
Dean held his arms out in an innocent 'look-at-me' way. "Does it look like I'm cranky?"
Sam didn't even look up. He had nothing to say. A minute later, Dean watched Sam gently place the cover back on the computer, his facial expressions clearly said that he had found nothing.
Dean went back over to his horrid bed and tried to get into the other side of it. It didn't sink nearly as bad at that spot, so after placing a few pillows in the hole, he was comfortable enough to sleep.
But he couldn't sleep as he listened to his brother's huffing over the laptop. Dean lightly closed his eyes, listening to the small scrapes, scratches, and grunts that came from his brother.
Sam was not at all concerned about his brother's well being as he implored, "Aren't you going to help me?"
Dean slowly rolled over onto his back to look at Sam, making sure not to shift any pillows from their position. "You're the techno nerd. I can't help you. Just not smart enough," replied Dean in a fake, sad self-deprecating tone. As soon as his face was turned and hidden in the grotesque pillow, he suddenly let out a small chuckle.
The next half an hour was spent with Dean listening to Sam's constant steam of mindless muttering and pacing as he contemplated the computer. Sam finally sat down in front of it and stared at it for a full 5 minutes, as Dean had slowly drifted off to sleep, entering into a naughty dream involving two redheads from the bar next door.
More To Come...
A/N: So, what did you think of the beginning of my comedy piece. There won't be many chapters, I promise. Only about 3 or 4. But I really hope I made you laugh... even a little. It will get funnier as it goes on, definitely. Please review, constructive criticism accepted.