TITLE: Stuck On You
SUMMARY: Dean and Sam find themselves in a... sticky situation.
WARNINGS: Language. What can I say. Those Winchesters are so uncouth...
DISCLAIMER: Not mine... I tried to take them, but I was afraid that Sam's arms would be torn off in the tug-of-war between me and Erik Kripke.
A/N: This is total, plotless humor. I just wanted an excuse to write snarky!Sam and annoyed!Dean :) If anyone doesn't remember Captain Planet , it was a totally cheesy cartoon on when I was a kid, about a super hero who controlled the elements of nature to protect the envirnment. Yes, I watched it. I was a total geek, okay?
"Sam, if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll be forced to release those pictures of you in your Captain Planet Halloween costume."
"What? That was like... second grade! You can't possibly still have those!"
Dean scoffed, pulling at his arm ineffectually.
"Like I'd ever let go of those little gems…"
Sam rolled his eyes uselessly. Dean was in no position to appreciate the expression at the moment, but the reaction to his brother's immaturity was automatic.
"This is all your fault, you know." Dean grumbled against his shoulder.
"We wouldn't be glued together like some preschool craft project if you hadn't tackled me to the ground."
"No, you're right," Sam replied sarcastically, "You'd be decapitated by that demon and I'd be free to go back to the motel and clean up."
"Can handle myself…" Dean mumbled petulantly.
Sam felt his brother try to twist his right arm, but the demon blood had cemented it firmly to Sam's left shoulder. His older brother's chest was fixed against his own, Dean's left arm trapped between their torsos. Sam's right hip was, embarrassingly, attached to Dean's stomach, his right arm around the older Winchester's back.
"Jesus, Sammy, do you have to be so fuckin' bony? You've got hips like a Calvin Klein model. I think you're actually bruising my spleen…"
"Oh, come on. All the beer you drink? You've got some padding to protect your precious spleen…"
"Dude, that's harsh. Totally uncalled for."
"Can we please focus on trying to get out of this mess? For all we know, the longer this stuff sits the stronger it gets," Sam sighed.
"Oh, 'cause, you know, I thought maybe we could have a nice little waltz or something. Of course I want to unstick myself from your bony ass! Any suggestions, Einstein?"
"Maybe if we just pull hard enough…"
"Fine," Dean snapped, bracing his feet and pushing away from his brother.
Sam dug his heels in and felt the stiff fabric of his jeans pull away from his right hip a little. Encouraged, he put his free hand on Dean's right hip to push.
"Dude! What the fuck!"
Dean abruptly stopped pulling, craning his head back as far as he could to glare in outrage at his brother.
"Are you kidding me? First of all, you have the demonic equivalent of contact cement all over you, and you just put your hand on my hip. Secondly – you just put your hand on my hip! That's not cool, little brother! I have a manly image to maintain and you're seriously damaging it."
"Fuck," Sam hissed, realizing his mistake. He attempted to pull his hand away, but it was undeniably stuck.
"Yeah. Fuck. Way to go, Captain Planet."
"Is that really the best choice of words right now, Sam? Cause, you know, this wasn't awkward enough already…"
Sam ignored him and wiggled his fingers experimentally, trying to loosen them. Dean made a choked, gasping noise and twitched.
"Dean? You okay," Sam asked, suddenly concerned. "Are you hurt? Why didn't you say something?"
"I'm fine," Dean ground out, his voice oddly high and tense sounding.
"You don't sound fine," Sam insisted, trying to pull away enough to see Dean's face. He pushed with the hand attached to his brother's hip, and Dean twitched again. He was making some sort of strange sound, and Sam frowned as he struggled to identify it.
"Are you… giggling?"
"…No," Dean gasped.
"You are," Sam exclaimed in sudden amusement, "You're ticklish!"
Sam purposefully wiggled his fingers again, and a hysterical-sounding laugh burst from Dean.
"Dude! Cut that out!"
"Admit that you're ticklish, and I will."
"Fuckin' vindictive sadist…"
Sam dug his thumb into the hollow of Dean's hipbone. His brother gasped and twitched again, instinctively trying to step away. His feet tangled, and Sam had a very sobering moment to realize that they were both going down hard. Then Dean toppled backward, taking Sam over with him, and they hit the ground in a tangle of sticky limbs.
"Shithead," Dean shouted, the effect somewhat lessened by the muffled quality of his voice from under Sam's body, "Are you happy now?"
Dean wriggled and kicked under him, and Sam rolled to the side, wincing as his shoulders knocked against an outcropping of rock.
"Son of a bitch!"
Dean's voice remained muffled, and Sam realized belatedly that his brother's check was now glued to his shoulder.
"Oh, sorry's not gonna cover this, asshole. We're talking major payback. Life size copies of your environmentally-friendly superhero days. Billboards, even."
"I don't think you wanna do that," Sam said, trying not to chuckle.
"Oh, but I do."
"Well, then, I'll have to dig out that Polaroid of you sucking your thumb in your sleep."
"Dude, lots of kids suck their thumbs."
"Did I mention the picture's from three months ago?"
"What! I do not suck my thumb, you evil little troll! You had to have staged that!"
"Yeah, well, I doubt girls in bars will stick around long enough to hear your side of the story."
"I can't believe that I'm related to you."
"Right now, we're practically conjoined twins," Sam observed, trying to shift away from the rock digging into his back.
"Conjoined, yes. Twins? I don't think so. I'm obviously from more superior stock than you."
"Dean, we're from the same gene pool."
"Yeah, well, you're clearly from the shallow end."
"Hey, you think you can reach my jugular from there? Just go ahead and bite through it, would you? I can't stand to live stuck to you and your immature version of wit any longer."
"Hardy har har har. Like you're a stellar example of humor…"
Sam grunted as Dean attempted to move their cemented bodies to a standing position, stumbling awkwardly to maintain his balance. After another terrifying moment of unsteadiness they managed to regain their feet. They stood panting for a moment, their breath puffing out in the cool fall air of the woods. The sun was rising over the tops of the trees, casting a strange grayish-pink light through the clouds. Sam thought absently that it would be pretty, if he weren't adhered to his bitchy, sticky brother.
"Maybe we should try to make our way down the trail, back to the Impala. There might be something in it we can use."
"I know you aren't suggesting that we touch my baby with this shit all over us. Do you have any idea what this would do to the paint job?"
"Do you have a better suggestion?"
Dean mumbled something incoherent and undoubtedly inappropriate against his shoulder, but nevertheless began awkwardly maneuvering their bodies back towards the hiking trail they'd followed up the mountain.
They'd gone about one hundred feet down the trail when Sam heard a surprised, distinctly feminine gasp from ahead of them. Craning his neck, he saw a young, attractive woman rounding the bend just down the hill. There was a look of mingled embarrassment and shock on her pretty face, and when she met Sam's eyes she blushed fiercely.
"Oh! I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… interrupt. I mean… I.. uh…"
"Dude," Dean hissed in alarm, "is that a chick?"
"That's okay," Sam reassured her, grinning despite himself. "Sometimes he just likes me to hold him, you know?"
"What? No! Wait," Dean yelped "It's not like that! He's my brother!"
The girl's face went another shade darker and she looked as though she might bolt.
"Shhh…." Sam said loudly. "Don't be ashamed. Sometimes we all need hugs."
"Damnit," Dean cursed, trying to turn their bodies so that he could face the girl, "You asshole!"
The alarmed hiker sputtered for a moment before turning and darting back the way she'd come. Sam laughed loudly, struggling to keep his feet as he chuckled and Dean continued to twist around.
"She's gone, Dean, give it up."
"You're an evil son of a bitch, you know that? I'm gonna kill you when we get out of this..."
"Yeah, well, fist we have to get unstuck."
"Could this day get any more fucking magical?"
No sooner had Dean spoken than a clap of thunder boomed overhead.
"You had to say it, didn't you?"
"Shut the hell up," Dean grumbled miserably. Fat, cold raindrops pattered on the leaves around them and quickly soaked their hair. In only moments the downpour had begun, sheets of rain drenching their clothes. Dean growled in frustration and tried to move them toward an overhanging pine bough, but his foot slipped in the rapidly forming mud.
"Shit," Sam yelped as he felt their equilibrium shift again. But instead of the now-familiar sensation of being pulled after his brother's falling body, there was a loud sucking sound. He felt their now-wet clothes and limbs pull apart forcefully, and then they were falling away from each other to land with twin splats in the mud. Stunned, they stared at each other for a moment, rainwater running in their eyes. Then Dean laughed, sounding slightly hysterical, and pulled himself to his feet.
"Yes! Thank you, God! I'm free!"
Sam scrambled up from the slippery ground, watching the rain wash the yellowish demon blood from his clothes.
"All we needed to do that whole time was get wet? Seriously?"
Dean was rolling his head on his neck and stretching his arms, working out the kinks and grinning like he'd just been invited to the Playboy mansion.
"So much for that Stanford education, huh college boy?"
"Yeah, well, you didn't figure it out either."
"Too bad, too. You could have used your Captain Planet powers to call down the rain a little earlier and saved us a few hours of Brokeback Mountain re-enactment."
Sam glared, finding it difficult to look properly intimidating with mud, demon goo, and water soaking his hair and face.
"Let's just get off this fucking mountain, okay?"
"Don't need to convince me, Dude. I've been ready to go since we killed that sticky bastard hours ago."
"Fine," Sam said, wiping the mud off his cheek and stepping carefully down the trail after his brother.
"Oh, and don't think for a moment that I've forgotten that whole 'needs to be held' thing. You're gonna pay, little brother. Just you wait."
"Just remember – I know your ticklish spot now, and I'm not afraid to use it."
"That violates several Man Codes of Conduct, Dude. And where the hell did you learn to be so fucking evil, anyway?"
"Where do you think, Prankmaster?"
"Well, at least I taught you well."
"And there's always the thumb sucker photo."
"Maybe a little too well…"
Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading. :)