A/N: Yep, another Facebook bingo prompt.
"It's all rather evil, is it not?" A sad attempt at a British accent spoke from the doorway.
Cas glanced in the direction of Dean, eyes flicking between the man and his soon-to-be unleashed chaos. A variety of items were spread across the kitchen counter, ranging from shrink wrap to whoopie cushions to a bottle of Nair.
"Are you certain this is a good idea, Dean?"
"Come on, Cas." Cutting across the room the hunter slung an arm around the angel's shoulders, staring with a devilish grin at the array of prank-ready objects. "Are you telling me you don't want revenge on that cockblocking Moose?"
"But a prank war? Isn't that a little juvenile?"
The responding mock expression of offense was interrupted by a certain nephilim barreling into the kitchen, practically beaming at the pair.
"I did what you asked, Uncle Dean!"
"Dean. . ."
"Cover the whole room, kid?"
". . . did you have to involve Jack?"
"Every inch of it."
A smile from Dean. A sigh from Cas.
"Well done, young padawan. Now come, we have more work to do." With an evil laugh to accompany the earlier sad accent, Dean grabbed the bottle of Nair and the shrink wrap, planted one on Cas, and steered Jack out of the kitchen.
About an hour later, Sam woke up, and it all started going to shit.
Dean, Cas, and Jack were spread around the war room, noses stuck in various books, when Sam stormed in, completely covered in a layer of glittering white dust, expression eerily blank.
For a moment, everyone just looked at each other. It was Dean, unsurprisingly, who broke the silence, innocent smile already in place.
"Well good morning, Fairy Princess."
No more words were spoken. Sam spun and headed back down the hall, presumably to attempt to rid himself of his brother's immaturity with a shower (and poor Sam, should he not realize his shampoo had been fiddled with as well). When Dean reached over to fist bump Jack, who actually looked quite pleased with the mornings proceedings, Cas rolled his eyes, an action that did not go unnoticed.
"Got something to say, Cas?"
"I'm just watching you corrupt my son, not that I'm surprised."
"All growing kids should know how to properly pull a prank, it's a very human activity."
Another eye roll was the only response.
Cas barely got through one more page of his book before a rather unmanly shriek echoed through the Bunker. Sam had discovered the Nair.
In barely a blink, Dean and Jack sprung up and took off towards the kitchen, likely a useless attempt at hiding. Not a moment later Sam, still semi-soapy and wearing little more than a towel, was in front of the angel, wordlessly asking him to give up the location of his brother.
And give Dean up, he did. The word "Kitchen" was hardly spoken before the still sparkling sasquatch stomped off into the aforementioned room. There was an overlapped "Hi Uncle Sam!" And "Don't go into the fashion business, Sammy." followed by a thump, an unidentified screech, and Dean's "evil" laughter. The man himself soon shot through the room, a younger brother now equipped only with a dish towel close behind.
Dean's door slammed. Sam's pounding lasted a full five minutes.
The afternoon was tense to say the least. After the shower incident, everyone had retreated to their own little section of the Bunker. On the off chance two of them would pass each other in the halls, their expressions ranged from annoyed to distrustful (or in Jack's case, content with the occasional bout of confusion).
It wasn't long though before Dean ran by him cackling, clutching something close to his chest. Sam followed not long after, looking rather fed up with his brother's antics.
"What now?"
A sigh. "He nabbed my laptop, probably going to fill it with porn."
Cas laid a consoling hand on Sam's shoulder. "Would you like me to try and get it back?"
That pulled a smile and a nod from the human skyscraper, who suddenly went from looking like a kicked puppy to one promised an extra treat and a belly rub.
Goal now in mind, Cas started off in the direction his boyfriend had sprinted through moments ago. He'd just reached the opening to the main area and was considering the best way to weasel the laptop out of Dean, when something round and creamy found itself shoved into his face.
Laughter died out almost as soon as it started. For a moment, Cas had no idea how he was supposed to respond. The majority of the substance plopped onto the floor, and Cas made a rather fruitless attempt to swipe off the rest of it.
Dean, for his part, simply said "You're not Sam."
Perhaps revenge pranks weren't such a bad idea.
"Consider it officially on, Winchester."