Title: Precious Panties

Author: skiing_pelican

Rating: PG

Genre: gen

Characters: Dean, Cas

Spoilers: 5.04

Warnings: crack, really bad crack. Mention of panties (Yes, that deserves a warning). Humor (I hope)

Word Count: ~1000

Teaser: Dean never thought anyone would find out. Until that day.

Authors note: Guys, I don't know what happened here. Actually, I do. I wrote an essay about Dean's love for pink, satiny panties. I just don't know how it happened. Written for BigPretzel's weekly theme: nakedness. Written in the spur of the moment, no beta. Be gentle to me, I'm still not a native speaker!

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural, Rhonda's pink, satiny panites, or any of the characters. Just playing.

Dean Winchester had a terrible secret. A dark, terrible secret. A secret no one was ever to find out – and if anyone would ever find out, Dean would have to kill himself. The secret was so terrible and dark that Dean was terrified of it.

The secret was not, that once, at the sweet age of nineteen, he tried on Rhonda Hurley's pink satiny panties and liked it. That was a youngster's mistake.

The secret was – and now, sit down and hold on, because this will shock you to no end – that Dean Winchester owned pink, satiny panties. And loved to wear them.

He burried them at the bottom of his duffle bag, in a special cloth to keep them safe from rough gun metal or knife steel. He always, carefully hand-washed them, while Sam was somewhere else, usually geeking himself out at the lokal library. Dean didn't dare throwing them into the laundry. For once, Sam could find out. And second, he didn't trust the random laundromat with his single, precious treasure.

Dean loved to wear his panties as often as possible. He loved walking the streets in it, hidden below layers of rough jeans and old flanell. He was turned on by the knowledge that while he was flirting with strangers, posing as FBI or simply getting a burger in the nearest pub, everybody pegged him as manly. Manly and hot, wearing his precious panties. And best even? When he was getting laid, seeing the expression of the next random girl at his panties.

Of course, Dean never wore his panties to late night hunts. While the risk of getting caught in it (you never knew how badly your clothes will get scattered) was definitely a turn on, he just couldn't get over the risk of getting them badly damaged. He just couldn't loose them. They were too precious.

On very rare days, Dean had the chance to take his time with his panties. That was definitely twisted, but Dean didn't care. While Sam was out at a local library and wouldn't return soon, Dean could take all the time he needed. He took his time starting the day with a long, hot shower. Thoroughly relaxed and refreshed, he toweled himself dry, and took the one and only piece of clothing he needed to feel dressed. To feel complete. To feel – himself.

Dean stood for a long moment in front of the mirror, and simply looked at himself. At his stark naked picture – naked except for the single piece of clothing. His precious panties. Dean just couldn't help a stupid grin. Not that he had any reason to hold it back. Dean Winchester didn't have many opportunities to be happy, or to be relaxed. But right now, he was wearing his panties, and everything in the world was allright.

And damn, did he look hot in those panties.

Dean was just about to indulge in planning what he and his panty would do today – maybe go to a gogo-bar and feel pride that none of the girl's panties looked as good as his? – when he heared a rustling sound. First, he thought it was a rustling of wind, but then he remembered that he was still standing in a motel room and there was no wind that could move the closed curtains.

Terrified, Dean turned. And stared at Cas, who stared right back.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said as monotone as ever.

"Shit, Cas!" Dean exclaimed, "You can't just pop into a dude while he..."

Dean hesitated. While he, what, exactly? What should he do now? Kill himself since the shame was too much to bear? Or kill Cas so his dark secret will never be endangered?

Cas just angled his head, staring at Dean as curiously as ever. Cas, very obviously, did not get Dean's strange behaviour.

Dean just stood there for a moment, gaping, not knowing what he should do or say. Finally, he finished his sentence.

"While... while he is in his birthday suit!"

Cas eyes narrowed in confusion. "You have pointed that out before," he pointed out, and yes, Dean remembered the shower incident much to vividly, "but you are not naked."

And he was not. He was wearing the only piece of clothing he really needed.

"Dude, you don't pop into a man in his underwear, are we clear?" Dean stressed, finally back to his game. By now, he gathered his other clothes and struggled into his jeans, hiding his precious panties under a layer of denim.

"Very well. I will remember that." Cas deadpanned.

Dean let out a sigh of relief. He was still not happy with this. But at least, Cas caught him. That was – sort of okay-ish. The angel did not get it. He didn't have to take his life. Or Cas'.

"Just," Dean started, and then considered if she should really – damn it, he had to make sure Cas never mentioned it to Sam or Bobby. "Just never talk about this! To anyone!"

"I don't understand," Cas replied.

"You don't need to!" Dean answered agressively. "Just – never tell Sam about this. Or Bobby. Or anyone!"

Cas angeled his head again, getting irritated. "I still don't understand the need for secrecy, if you are referring to your choice of underwear. Sam knows."

Dean was going to die. He was going to die of melting into a pool of shame whenever he next saw Sam.

"Sam never found it necessary to mention," Cas ventured, "I believe he didn't want to upset you."

"Stop!" Dean exclaimed, terrified.

Sam knew.

Sam knew!

He was going to die.

And he was taking Sam with him.

Or... he could just pretend this conversation never happened.

"Cas, leave!" Dean barked suddenly. "I don't care which friggin' important reason you had to pop in, go! This never happened, you were never here!"

Cas still didn't get it. But he was frustrated enough with Dean's peculiar antics that he was willing to leave the human. Not because Dean asked. Because he was getting exasperated with him.

Cas left in a flurry of wings, without another word.

This never happened. Sam didn't know. He could still walk the streets in his precious, pink, satiny panties, and be happy. He could still go to the gogo bar and compare the girl's panties with his and enjoy himself.

At least he could try.