Summary: Dean and Sam are in the middle of yet another prank war when pizza was ordered, courtesy of Sam.
Based off of a Tumblr post on a SPN fan page here: /groups/115057981983004/permalink/544486085706856/ ((add facebook and the dot and com to the beginning of this link... stupid site won't put in links.))
Dean's calloused fingers skimmed over the keyboard of Sam's laptop, his hunger eating away at him. They were on a road-trip to Vegas from Pennsylvania and throughout the drive, they stopped in Colorado. Sam was on the bed, his headache gradually getting worse the more he would stare at the bright screen of the laptop before he asked Dean to order pizza. Neither of them bothered to go online to look up a local number when they could just order it online.
"Anything special you want on it?" Dean asked, glancing at his brother with his fingers hovering over the keys as he waited for a response. Sam simply shook his head, a low groan emitting from his throat as his headache protested to the movement. Dean gave a sharp nod and clicked a few more things. He stopped when he was at the final page and told Sam he would go look for his wallet. Sam nodded and watched as Dean's presence left the room and outside into the hall. He sat like that for a moment, his thoughts drifting aimlessly to help the recovery of this ache in his mind before an idea struck him.
He slowly sat up and walked across the room and sat where his brother was just seconds before. He rubbed at his eyes, dimming the brightness of the screen before looking at all of the information Dean had already put into the order form before he left. He would be paying with cash, typed his name out as well as the hotel's address and the room number they were staying in. It was a miracle Dean even remembered such things, considering how much they travel. After skimming through the information, making sure it was all correct himself, there was a box on the bottom.
"Delivery Instructions For Driver" it said. Sam smirked. It was his turn. After the last prank involving Nair Shampoo (that was not a fun time and hairs are still falling out after the incident), Dean deserved some well-earned payback. His fingered glided over the keys, much more quickly than Dean did. Dean was never one to use technology too much, especially Sam's laptop. After he skimmed over the information, being sure it was again correct (he didn't want the pizza guy coming to the wrong hotel room), he hit "Place Your Order" in a big red box under the information. He closed the laptop, feeling smug and took his place back onto his bed, his headache fading away from the buzz of another prank.
Dean soon returned, fat wallet in hand and looked at the closed device.
"Did you finish the order?" He sat at the chair, a beer in his other hand Sam didn't notice before. Sam nodded, rubbing his eyes to distract himself from smiling.
"Yeah, yeah. I didn't add anything and I know you want it here asap." He sat up slowly, faking it out to Dean that his headache is still in place. "I'm gonna run down to the drug store for some meds. Want anything there?" He stood, towering over his brother and shrugged on his jacket. "I'll just walk there if that's fine."
Dean shook his head and popped the top off of his beer bottle, glanced at it before taking a drink.
"Some more of these, if they've got 'em." He held it up as a gesture and Sam nodded, patting his pockets. He slipped the card-key for the motel room into his pocket with his wallet and headed for the door. "Pizza should be here in twenty. I'll be back after." He opened the door and turned his head. "Don't eat all of it." Dean grinned and took another drink.
"No promises." Sam shook his head and with a small wave, he closed the door and walked to the drug store. However, it wasn't twenty minutes away. It was more like five, but he couldn't pass the opportunity of seeing the interaction between the driver and Dean.
X
Ten minutes pass.
Twenty minutes pass.
Thirty minutes pass.
Sam was worried he missed the pizza and was standing out in the cold for nothing until lights from the road facing him ahead pulled into the lot for the hotel. The familiar logo of the pizza place was on top and it pulled up next to the main entrance. The car was turned off as Sam couldn't hear the low rumble of the engine, but the lights on the outside and inside were still on. It was an older car, simple in design and the white paint was chipping off. It was too far for him to see what model it was but he really didn't care. He saw the silhouette of the man inside fumbling with the receipt and his pen.
As soon as the door opened, the lights shutting off when he did so, the man stepped out. His uniform was all black, what seemed to be his name-tag and logo in front of his breast pocket. His pants were also black as well as his shoes. Nothing stands out too much from him well… from Sam's view anyways. He grabbed the strap holding the pizza in it's carrier and slung it over his shoulder, closing his car door. He read the receipt again, closer to his eyes this time to before he was reading what he was reading. Sam grinned. Nearly nothing could stop the flow of happiness from ear to ear. Dean deserved payback and whilst this isn't as bad as the shampoo, it's pretty damn close.
The pizza man (Castiel, Sam noticed on his tag) approached the door, checked the receipt once more before knocking, his free hand clutching at the strap holding the pizza. It didn't take long for Dean to answer (he was probably bouncing, waiting for the food, Sam thought) and when he did, Castiel was greeted with a warm smile.
"How much am I givin' you?" Dean said, his wallet unfolded in his hands. He didn't notice Castiel's inability to hold his pen correctly when positioning it in his hand before he heard it clatter to the floor. Dean tilted his wallet out of view, watching the other pick it up, the bag and receipt being the next things to drop after. Sam noticed his hands were shaking and he furrowed his brows. Was what he said that bad or was this guy that nervous? Either way, there was no way he was letting Dean out of this one. He turned his phone on and started a video, holding it under his chin so he could see.
Dean's brows were raised in confusion and suspicion. He didn't quite understand what was wrong with the guy. Maybe he was in training. The man -Castiel he noticed- handed Dean the receipt as well as the pen.
"Sign this, please," he said, the tip of the pen pointing at the X next to where he wanted Dean's signature. Dean took the items after tucking his wallet between his arm and side, glancing at the price before signing his name. He handed back the pen to Castiel, the receipt in his hand as he got the money out. He took out an extra ten for the tip, holding it all out for him. Cas smiled faintly and took it, unzipping the pizza out of it's case and handed it over. Dean's stomach growled at the smell and set it on the table beside the door.
Just before Dean was going to wave him off, Cas held his hand up before he spoke. "Listen," he started, clearing his throat. "I'm not quite sure why… um.." He started fumbling over his words. Dean's brow was raised. "You told me- I was told by your order that you're um.." He cleared his throat, his eyes glancing away from the figure before him. "That you're… pretty and I don't understand why you would tell me-"
"Excuse me, what?" Castiel looked at the man, looking as confused as Dean was.
It took him a moment before he finally spoke. "You're Pretty..?" Dean didn't take a beat off before he started laughing. Cas flushed a bit in embarrassment, his hands fumbling with the strap on his bag. "I should be going-"
"No, no no. Dude what the hell are you talkin' about?" Castiel handed him the receipt, on the bottom near the price said "Delivery Instructions For Castiel: "Tell me I'm pretty." Dean blinked twice. Now it was his turn to feel embarrassed. Castiel took the paper back.
"You did not write this?" he said, though, it sounded like a question. Dean groaned audibly and cursed out whoever Sam was. Most likely his friend or brother, Cas noted. When he put the pieces together himself, he chuckled a bit.
"For the record, you are not pretty," Cas smiled at the client. "You're very attractive though. Whoever wrote that was playing a joke." Dean nodded, his hand on the frame of the door. "Right, well thanks Cas," he said, squinting at the tag again to be sure he said the name right, but shorted it as he didn't want to risk pronouncing it wrong. "Thanks for the pizza and I'm sorry about this." Cas took a step back from the door, fumbling more with the receipt and money.
"Have a good night," he waved off, but was stopped as he turned by the other clearing his throat.
"Call me sometime," Dean winked before closing the door. He saw his number on the receipt earlier.
When Cas was arranging his things to go back to the shop, he saw someone enter the hotel room. The last he heard before the roar of his engine was the yelling from the man he met exclaiming that he can order his own pizza.