Dean paces the bunker like a middle schooler before their first dance. With no case to work on, he resorts to mumbling to himself, walking in tense cycles around the bunker. It is starting to rub off on the other residents.
"He needs to relax." Sam murmurs to Cas as they watch Dean finish yet another lap. "It's starting to freak me out too." The taller man continues, Cas merely gives a stoic nod in response. Though his eyes do hold a concerned light, a worried gaze he reserves only for the elder Winchester.
"I am relaxed" Dean grunts in response, shooting them a glare across the room. "I've lived through the end of the world more times than I have fingers. I'm just not used to not having a case to delve into. I just need to shoot something." He groans as he unceremoniously plops himself down on the couch, burring his face into one of the decorative pillows a moment later.
"Maybe we can distract him or something? We finally have a day off and he's more tense than ever." Sam suggests once more to the blue-eyed angel, ignoring his brothers comment. "It's sadly ironic." Cas agrees, once again wearing a concerned that is specific only to when he is worrying about Dean.
"I can hear you assholes from here." Dean mumbles, his words garbled by the pillow his face is pushed into. "But if yall want to 'distract me' with a massage or by calling some hookers I ain't complaining." He says only half sarcastically.
Cas rolls his eyes but Sam stops grins after a moment. Recalling an old childhood memory of the only time Sam was ever able to beat Dean in their training fights.
"Actually Dean, I suppose a massage will do you good." Sam comments, barely able to keep the mischief out of his voice. Cas passes a glance at Sam, obviously trying to gauge his intentions and hide the fact he is eager to have an excuse to touch the older Winchester.
'Those two just need to kiss already.' Sam thinks in amusement. 'While Dean forever claims to "only be a chick dude" and Castiel doesn't even have full concept of the word gay, those two are a match made in heaven. Pun intended.' Sam thinks to himself with a grin, getting them to finally lay hands on each other is just another added bonus to his brilliant plan.
"Well I'm not complaining." Dean repeats, rolling over so his back is facing the ceiling and his torso is sinking into the couch. Sam silently motions for Cas to sit above Dean's head (who honestly looks a bit disappointed to not be the one positioned at the lower half of the man) while Sam settles on the couch next to Dean's legs.
Now that Dean's eyes are not facing him, Sam is able to openly smile; earning a confused head tilt from Cas who is now having a go at massaging his friend's shoulders. Dean grunts, and Cas takes the hint to ease the amount of pressure. Feeling the blonde's shoulders slowly start to relax at his touch.
Sam starts kneading Dean's back, formulating his plan as he does so. 'Dean deserves to relax and smile and laugh dammit. Our lives been so stressful lately, hell they've been stressful forever. He deserves a damn day off!' Sam thinks to himself in affectionate frustration. A massage is good, but it's effects will only last as long as the massage does, same for the hookers and pies (Deans usual go-to when he is bored or upset).
However, what Sam is planning, is sure to last a long, long time. Well aware his actions will likely start a chain reaction, but not caring because dammit his brother needs to laugh.
Inching his hands down the blonde Winchester's back, he hears Dean sigh contently. Cas can feel the tension releasing from Deans broad shoulders. This makes him feel happy, like he's helping. But the angel is still puzzled as to what Sam is planning to do.
It is obvious that he wouldn't openly volunteer to massage his older brother without some other agenda in mind. Sam's suspicious smirk also tells Cas that something else is afoot entirely. But unable to figure it out, Cas returns to his massage, focusing instead on the warm sturdiness of Dean's shoulders.
Sam starts massaging Dean's lower back, feeling his brother slightly tense up. Suppressing a laugh, the larger Winchester starts to put pressure near the back side of Dean's hip bones.
"Woah, easy there cowboy." Dean grunts, his entire lower body stiffening. "What's wrong Dean?" Sam responds in an oh so innocent voice. "I - uh I have a … bruise there. From that shifter in Concord." The blonde man responds quickly trying to sink is hips into the couch.
The truth? Dean is ticklish.
Tickle him anywhere but his hips and he can play it off. However, as soon as you so much as touch his hip bones, it triggers the rest - All of a sudden he gets sensitive everywhere.
Sam looks at Cas, who is finally catching onto Sam's devious plan. And judging from the look in his eyes, he is reliving his own experience of the boys showing him what tickling is: firsthand.
Dean, who must have caught on as well, is not buying Sam's innocent act. And obviously doesn't trust his own power of persuasion, because he is now struggling to get up. However, he only manages to flip himself over before the mammoth Winchester known as Sam settles himself on top of his brother's legs with a triumphant smirk.
"Your massage isn't done yet Dean." Sam purrs, no longer making a show to hide his mischievous plan. "Grab his arms will you Cas?" Sam asks, the angel obliges with a beaming smile. Though perhaps he's simply grateful to not be on the receiving end this time.
Understanding the new turn in the situation, Dean tries to buck and scramble away. But with a damn angel holding his arms with the death grip of God, and his moose of a brother atop of his legs, escape is hopeless.
"Man, this is gay. And all kinds of messed up." Dean whines, commenting on the fact that his brother is now sitting near his crotch area. "I know you are but what am I?" Sam responds cheekily, resorting back to his childhood self. Earning an eye roll and poorly concealed blushing from both Cas and Dean.
Then, without warning, he delves into his brothers hip bones.
"Jesuhuhuhs Sammy! St-stop, I'm t-to old for thihihis!" Dean stammers out, trying hard to hold the reigns on his composure.
"Well it's not my fault you are so damn ticklish." Sam responds in a teasing tone, knowing very well it will drive Dean insane.
Ignoring his brother, Dean looks up to Cas with pleading eyes. "Come on angel. Let me up and we c-can get back at Sam togehehether." He beggs through suppressed giggles, still struggling to free himself.
"Hey, don't you use me as a bargaining chip! You're in so such position to so." Sam says, giving Dean a hard squeeze on the hip bones, causing him to yelp and try to buck himself up. While Cas seems to consider Dean's words for a moment, he instead inclines to shakes his head with an uncharacteristic grin.
"But Dean, Sam is already happy. You are the one who is tense. So I see no point in taking your offer." And to set his point, Cas removes his arms from Dean's and maneuvers them under his knees. This way he then has free hands to start scribbling over Dean's upper ribs with surprisingly swift and agile fingers
"OH GOHOHOSH NOHOHO! PLEASHEHEHSE!" Dean shakes his head back and forth, his eyes squeezed shut. His composure is in shambles on the ground. Nothing can stop the frantic laugher now.
Cursing the bulkiness of his brother for restricting his movement, Dean can only twitch his body back and forth and laugh helplessly as the onslaught continues.
His resolve completely shatters when Sam starts to lift his shirt up. "No no no Sammy please. Please I'm begging you. I'm happy now, I'll have a good day off just please - NOHOHOHOHO!" Dean is immediately lost when Sam begins working his fingers up and down his brother's exposed abdomen.
Wash boarding his ribs, poking at the stomach, swirling in and around the naval, and occasionally giving a good squeeze to the hipbone when he wants to hear Dean's laughter shoot up and octave. In addition to Castiel clawing at his upper ribs and wiggling his fingers into the hollows of Dean's exposed underarms ... The elder Winchester is in utter hysterics.
It's a truly rejuvenating sight to see the hunter so carefree and happy. Even if it's only because he is having the crap tickled out of him.
And they quickly learn that it's contagious. Soon, even Cas is laughing with them. Who also has yet to cease his scribbling fingers as they explore all the ticklish territory on Dean's body.
"I sweahahahare I am gonna kill you shihihit heahads!" He giggles when they both start gently stroking up and down Dean's chest and stomach. Allowing him a small reprieve.
His breath hitchs and he tries pull on his arms every time they hit a bad spot like his hips, navel or upper ribs into his armpits. But quite honestly, there is nothing he can do until Sam is satisfied.
Tired of the slow pace, Sam turn his body around and starts squeezing Dean's knees. Scribbling under them at the sensitive skin beneath every few squeezes.
Startled by the sudden change, Dean straight up squeals and jerks his legs. Surprised, Sam is knocked off the couch, off balance from the sudden attack. Seeing his chance, Dean twists out from under the knees of Cas who is still distracted by Sam's sudden face-flop.
Still weakened and giggly, Dean can only resort to crawling away. He makes it as far as the end up the carpet before his foot is grabbed and he is dragged back into the hands of his tortures.
"Did we say we were done?" Sam asks, recovered from his fall to the floor.
Dean curls into a ball as the attacks start once more, not even bothering to pull him back onto the couch. With Cas attacking his side, ribs and hip bones, and his brother wrapping his mammoth arms around his legs, scribbling behind his knees and over his bare feet. Dean is really regretting not having more layers of protection.
"SAMMYEYEYEY! I CANTT TAHAHAHAKE THIHIHIS. NOHOHOHOHO! CAS NOT THEREEEE NOOOOOOOO!"
Dean is lost in hysterical laughter as Cas begins to blow mini raspberries into the dip of his hip bones. All while squeezing his stomach and letting Sam do his thing on Dean's legs and feet. It is all too much to bare.
Sensing their friend is spent, they ease up and released their grip on his limbs. Still giggling and weak, Dean simply rolls into a ball until the ghost tickles leave him. "I hate you guys." He whines, but his grin begs to differ.
"Don't lie Dean." Cas says, poking his side, causing another eruption of giggles from the grown man. "Or we'll tickle you until you admit to loving both of us."
In horror to the thought, the elder Winchester frantically shakes his head and grins. "Nah, you're right. I love you guys. And thank you, seriously. I can't believe it took that torture to see it but I feel better now."
"No problem." Sam replies smugly, but still with genuine affection.
"But I'm still gonna get both of you back. Tenfold what you did to me." Dean says, sitting up, making eye contact with both of them.
Sam's smug smiles falls away in an instant, he looks to Cas for protection. But the angel simply teleports himself away.
"Traitor." Sam mumbles bitterly at his speedy retreat, "Ah shit." He continues in panic as Dean starts stalking towards him. Things are about to get very loud.