I saw a commercial the other night and…I just had to. It was asking for it. Forgive this shoddy crack.
Angel Soft
Sam finds Dean giggling in the toiletries aisle at the general store they stopped in to restock and is instantly suspicious. The two prank each other but have an unspoken rule about pranking the general public; they don't. The general public has enough to worry about without the Winchesters adding on to it all. So of course Sam's a bit wary that maybe Dean's finally slipped off the cliff edge he teeters around every so often and fallen off the deep end.
"What did you do?" He askes, striding down the aisle with the basket in one hand.
Dean just snickers and waves him over, pointing silently at the toilet paper pack on the shelf in front of him. Sam raises an eyebrow at him but turns to look,
"Angel Soft? What about it?"
"Ya' think that's what Cas uses to—?"
"Oh, God, Dean, that's so immature! Seriously!"
"Whatever, dude. It's friggin' hilarious." Dean sweeps the packet off the shelf and dumps it into the basket, "And we're buying it."
Sam protests all the way to the check out. But he doesn't take the toilet paper out of the bag.
Cas is practically family now.
He can stand to suffer through a few, minor practical jokes.
After fifteen hours and countless miles on the road, Dean is beat. He's ready to keel over and sleep wherever his feet leave him. Except Sam doesn't want to sleep in the car for a fourth night in a row so Dean's forced to drive another two hours until they reach what could pass for civilization.
The motel's cheap, seedy, and covered in atrocious wallpaper, just like always (it's starting to feel like home, really, and Sam's sure Dean goes out of his way to find the stupidest motels around because mushroom themed, really?) and the two drag their bags in with tired grunting a few bickering remarks. But Dean's up to his eyeballs in exhaustion and won't take any of Sam's bitchfacing tonight. He just flops across the nearest bed, takes ten seconds to kick his boots off, and then he's out faster than a good old salt and burn.
Sam's a little slower getting to sleep, but only by a few minutes and that's because he takes the time to properly remove his clothes in preparation for bed and actually crawls under the covers. So maybe it's because he wasn't as deeply asleep as Dean that a small commotion in the bathroom wakes him in the middle of the night.
Dean's still out, flat on his stomach, face turned away from Sam, back rising and falling with deep, peaceful breaths. Sam spares him a glance before carefully sliding out of bed, gripping the demon-killing knife in his hand. He eases across the paper-thin carpet as silently as the well trained hunter that he is, pauses outside the bathroom door to listen for a moment, and then flings it open, bringing the knife up to swing it down on the unsuspecting form of…
Castiel.
The angel is sitting on the grimy tile of the bathroom floor, wedged between the sink and the opposite wall, and he's staring up at Sam with what could pass for mild surprise in his blue eyes.
It takes Sam a second to register that Castiel has a lap full of toilet paper.
No, not just a lap full, he's wrapped it over his shoulders like a scarf and has let it trail down his front to pile in his lap where he appears to be folding it all into some sort of intricate pattern.
"Um…Cas?" Sam lowers the knife and simply stands there, mystified.
"Sam." Castiel replies and it has such a casual tone that it seems entirely out of place like he's not sitting on the bathroom floor playing with a roll of toilet paper.
"What exactly are you doing with that toilet paper?"
Castiel looks down, tilts his head to the side, and then looks back up at Sam and says, "Trying to understand why humans call it 'Angel Soft'. Are we pleasantly malleable, Sam? I never thought so but my perception of human touch is somewhat—."
"You're not squishy, Cas, trust me." Sam cuts him off. Then he sighs, "Geez, but you've kind of made a mess and putting toilet paper back up the roll is a pain in the ass." He taps a bear foot on the floor for a moment, thinking, and then a mischievous smirk lifts the corners of his mouth,
"Say Cas, I've got a great idea for a surprise you could give Dean with all that Angel Soft…"
The following day goes something like this:
"Did you TP my baby!"
"Dude, somebody did the outside and the inside! When the doors were locked! And you had the keys in the pockets of the jeans you never bothered to take off last night!"
There's a thoughtful, somewhat angry pause.
"CASTIEL!"
A very short, heated discussion ensues.
Dean ends up with a bloody nose and a bruise in the shape of his brother's boot in his side.
Sam ends up with a black eye and a boxed ear.
He also kind of regrets teaching Castiel how to start a prank war.
But only a little bit.
