Dean glared at the boxers, as if the enormous hole decorating the worn cotton had been gouged out by the pants themselves, just to spite him!
With a grunt of displeasure, he threw them onto the bed. They were his last clean pair.
:
But…. Dean knew where he'd find a supply of underpants just waiting for him.
Glancing furtively around his bedroom door, he scrutinized the corridor.
No sign of Sam!
Making his way to his brother's room, he silently opened the door to glance inside.
All clear!
:
Pulling open Sam's drawer, he gave a mental high-five at the sight of the neatly folded underwear.
'Attaboy, Sammy,' Dean said, grabbing a pair.
He was about to slip them on when the door opened and his brother filled the threshold.
:
Sam quickly took in the situation, an eloquent frown gracing his forehead.
'You're a real piece of work, aren't you, Dean!
'Come on, Sammy. Can't you help a bro out!'
'You must have thorns growing out of your ass, Dean,' the younger Winchester bitched.' You go through boxers as if they were made of paper. I want a new pair to take their place…. or else!'
Now put them on, dude. I really don't need to see the Hanging Gardens of Babylon before breakfast.'
:
With an inward smile, Dean quickly complied. This time he'd gotten off lightly!