Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor anything related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having some fun with the boys, playing around with Eric Kripke's sandbox.

WAXED POETIC

By: Vanessa Sgroi

Sam lay quivering on the table, tense muscles twitching and jumping nervously. He blue-green gaze rolled to his brother who sat in a comfy-looking chair a few feet away, his feet tucked into warm, roiling water. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one of us who could."

"You could've," Sam muttered resentfully.

"What," Dean snickered, "with my half-dozen chest hairs?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, and that wouldn't have looked funny at all. Face it, Sammy, you just have more fur than me."

"Not that much more."

"Dude, relax. You'll be fine."

"Uh huh. You're not the one being slathered in hot wax and having your hairs ripped out by the roots."

Just then the cute blonde spa technician waltzed into the room carrying all the needed supplies. She was followed by a petite brunette who scurried to the foot of Dean's chair to proceed with his pedicure.

Sam jumped when the first dollop of hot wax made contact with his skin. He bit his lip and sucked air in through his nose as the technician continued to apply the goopy mixture. Sam swallowed nervously. "Dean, I don't like this."

Dean wiggled back into the message chair with a satisfied groan. "Suck it up, Samantha."

"No, seriously. It…just…it reminds me of something. Something not good."

The older Winchester cracked open an eye, locking his gaze on Sam. "Not…uh…not Afghanistan…" Dean spit out their code word for the Pit.

"N-No. Something else. Can't put my finger on it."

The spa technicians continued their own chatter as they worked by rote. Sam tensed when the blonde began to place the muslin strips over the wax that now covered his chest. He tensed further when she reached for the first tab. Sam held his breath. Then she pulled. Sam couldn't help it; a harsh yelp erupted at the sudden pain. He squeezed his eyes closed.

"You sound like a warbling piglet over there, bro."

"Bite me," Sam growled between clenched teeth.

Nonplussed, the technician continued blithely on and removed the remaining strips. She paused at the end to admire her handiwork, grabbing a pair of tweezers to pluck away a few strays before applying a soothing gel to the newly epilated area. "There ya go, hun," She beamed and patted his shoulder appreciatively. "You're all set!"

Sam sat up on the padded table, rubbing lightly at his sore chest. He tossed a glare at his brother. "I hate you."

"I know you do."

The blonde turned toward the other handsome man currently seated in one of the pedicure chairs. She tapped her fingers speculatively against her lips. "You know, we could do your legs…or your arms."

"Uh…no thanks…"

"You know, the underarm areas are really popular! How about it?"

A broad grin bloomed on Sam's face. He clapped his hands together, momentarily forgetting his recent trauma. "I think that's an excellent idea!"

Dean squirmed. "No, that's okay. I'm good."

"Or we could do some work on your eyebrows…"

"N-no," Dean suddenly frowned, "Wait—what's wrong with my eyebrows?"

FIN