rivers_bend

Title: Does Whatever a Spider Can
Words: ~1000
Rating: General (no dying of shock, please)
Genre: Weechesters
Warnings: This is a story about underwear. In my mind John wears boxers.
Summary: John sends Dean clothes shopping.
A/N: Takes place about six months before Baby you can drive my car.



"I thought you just did laundry," John said, irritation clear in his tone.

"I did. Yesterday afternoon." Dean looked up from where he was sharpening the knives. "How come?"

"Why's your brother wearing those then?" John pointed through to the kitchen where Sam was bending into the fridge, edge of one bony butt cheek poking through where the leg band of his tighty-whities was tearing away from cotton washed so thin it was see-through. He was wearing a t-shirt too, but the left sleeve had a huge hole in it and the waistband stopped several inches above his waist.

"Dunno. Maybe they're comfy?" Dean wasn't sure how underwear with the elastic tearing off would be comfy, but Sam was weird.

"Well, he looks ridiculous," John said. "Get him some new clothes."

Which is how Dean ended up in Target at ten am on a Saturday. An adventure about as much fun as hunting a Trelepin through a leech-infested swamp at midnight. And Trelepins oozed toxic slime.

When crowds of pushy parents and screaming children were sucking the fun out of life, you had to make your own. Super-hero underwear. What could be more fun than that? Not that Dean would ever wear them himself. But they had them in Sam's size, and they were even buy one get one free.

Superman was all wrong, Sam was too skinny, and no way was he the man of steel. Batman got more consideration, but in the end Dean decided he was more the Batman type himself. He would have gotten Robin, but that wasn't an option. Which Dean could see. Probably not a top-seller. Spidy though. Geek-boy would love those. Dean picked up two packages, but he didn't want the poor kid to get bullied in the locker room, so he also got a six-pack of plain white ones for school days.

For Dad, Dean picked up the three-packs of plain cotton boxers that came in gray, black and white, and for himself he chose some boxer-briefs. They cost extra, but he was the one who'd put the time in down at the pool hall, and besides, Dad didn't have to know. A few packs of t-shirts for each of them, and Dean was done with the dreaded Target.

On the way home, Dean hit up the Good Will where he found Sammy two pairs of jeans and some shorts that should fit for a while, a flannel shirt in Dad's size that still had the original store labels on it, and a forest green shirt for himself, all for under ten bucks. Not bad for a morning's work.

The house was empty when he got in, but he could hear gunshots from the woods out the back. Dean tucked the new clothes into drawers, smiling when he thought of Sam finding the underwear, and set to making sandwiches. Mystery lunch meat and cheese, and peanut butter and banana. Shooting cans with John Winchester over your shoulder was hungry business, Dean knew.

*~*~*

"Dee-ean" The voice was shrill. Sulking. Waking him up.

"This better be good," Dean muttered, pulling the pillow over his head. It was Sunday morning. In no universe was this fair.

"I'm almost thirteeeeen."

Which Dean knew. Perfectly well. It wasn't a good reason to wake him up. "Mmm hmm."

"You bought me Spiderman underwear." Sam punctuated that with bony knees settling next to Dean's hip.

Having someone looming over him while he slept, even his skinny little brother, was disconcerting, so Dean reached out an arm and hooked Sam around his waist to pull him flat. Peeking out from under his pillow, Dean looked at Sam's face. His little brother was trying to maintain a pout, but it was not very convincing. Hoping to break him entirely, Dean tickled Sam's belly. He got the shriek of laughter he was aiming for, but had to dodge flailing arms and kicking legs. That's when he noticed Sam was wearing the very underwear he'd come in to complain about. Dean snapped the waistband.

"I only got them for you because they didn't have my size," he said.

"Yeah, right." Sam went back to trying to pout. "Like you'd let Amanda What's-her-name see you in these."

"No way," Dean said. "I'd never waste them on Amanda. You don’t want to go around showing Spidy pants to just anyone."

"Yeah, cos they're for little kids."

"Obviously not." Dean propped his chin on his hand and made a show of sizing Sam up. "They fit you, don't they? And you're pretty much a teenager already."

"So you weren't making fun of me?"

"No way." Dean ruffled Sam's hair, which was getting way too long. "I got 'em cos they're cool. And you're cool." He poked Sam's ribs. "And a geek, just like Peter Parker."

When Sam started pouting at the word geek, Dean tickled him again until Sam was hooting with laughter. He didn't stop until Dad's voice boomed from the other side of the wall.

"Boys! What the hell are you doing in there?"

Sam clapped both hands over his mouth and Dean sat up. "Nothing, Dad. Sorry," he said.

"Well, keep it down, for god's sake, it's not even seven o'clock yet."

"Sorry," both boys chimed in unison.

Whispering now, Dean said, "I'm gonna sleep more. Go back to bed."

"Can't I stay here?" Sam asked.

Dean considered. "Okay, but no wriggling, talking, being hot, or hogging the blankets."

Sam grinned and rolled over so he was taking up less of the bed, letting Dean tuck him in. Within minutes, he was breathing regularly and making his sleeping snuffling noises. Manfully resisting the urge to snap Sam's elastic again, Dean curled on his side and drifted off himself. He dreamed of Peter and Mary-Jane driving around in the Impala taking pictures of ghosts while he and Sam loaded shot-gun shells with salt. When he woke up, Sam was gone, and the smell of coffee drifted in from the kitchen. Dean stretched his arms over his head and smiled.


Read Baby you can drive my car




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