The Price of Smelling Nice
by Minx
“BOYS!” John’s thunderous summons nearly shook the walls of the tiny run-down apartment the Winchesters had been calling home for the past month. John, face a mask of stony ire, stomped down the short hallway and into the boys’ shared bedroom unannounced, flinging the door open so hard, the doorknob almost embedded itself into the plaster wall behind it.
Dean and Sam flinched at the look of murder on their father’s face.
“What’s up, Dad,” Dean asked, innocent smile plastered on his teenage face.
“What the hell is this?” John demanded, waving a crumpled receipt in front of Dean’s nose. “$75.00 for a bottle of perfume?!”
Sam squeaked and paled visibly. He slid a little further down the bed, away from Dean and his dad. He knew about the purchase, but wasn’t directly involved and didn’t see any reason to become involved now, especially when it looked like their dad was about to hand down a royal ass whipping to any and all perpetrators.
Dean licked his lips, glancing nervously at the piece of paper in his father’s hand and then up to his Dad’s face. “Uh, that? That’s actually not for perfume, sir. It’s um, well it’s for cologne.”
John blinked. “Cologne?” he repeated dully.
“Yeah, you know? Girls wear perfume and guys wear cologne?” Dean offered.
John glared at his son. “I know what cologne is, smart ass,” he stated, testily. “What the hell are you doing buying $75.00 worth of it?”
Dean shrugged, flushing a little. “Well, Stacy likes it.”
John just stared at him.
“Stacy’s this hot chick at school, see? And she really likes this one cologne, but it’s kinda pricey-”
John cut him off. “Kinda pricey? “Old Spice is ‘kinda pricey’ on our budget, Dean. This,” He held up the sales receipt once again. “is way beyond it.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Where exactly did you get $75.00 from?”
Dean swallowed hard.
“Dean. Michael. Winchester.” John intoned slowly. “Where did you get the money for this?”
“He took it from the cookie jar,” Sam blurted out and then slapped his hands over his mouth in horror.
John’s face twisted into a mask of cold fury. “You used our reserve cash to buy yourself some stupid cologne in order to impress some girl at school?” he inquired caustically, the vein in his temple beginning to throb.
Dean’s mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to come up with a valid excuse. In the end he just nodded unhappily.
“You’re taking the stuff back tomorrow and getting a refund,” John stated angrily. He tossed the receipt onto Dean’s lap, giving his son an ominous look.
“I can’t,” Dean mumbled, eyes falling to his lap.
“What?” John stiffened. He wasn’t used to Dean refusing an order outright like that.
“The bottle broke on the ride home,” Dean explained, wincing under his father’s stern visage. “There’s nothing left to return.”
“Yeah, you should smell the car now,” Sam chuckled under his breath and then gasped when Dean kicked him sharply in the shin.
John was speechless for a long, scary moment. His face darkened as he nodded at Sam. “You. Out.”
Sam scrambled off the bed and bolted for the bedroom door as fast as his legs could carry him. John turned back to Dean as he reached down to unbuckle his belt.
“You. Pants down, over the bed,” John commanded.
Dean stood up on shaky legs and slowly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans, trying hard not to hyperventilate. He knew he shouldn’t have taken the risk buying the cologne, but Stacy had said she really got off on guys who wore that scent and images of her curvy body pressed up against his had led Dean to think with his downstairs brain instead of his upstairs one.
“I’m really sorry, Dad,” Dean mumbled as he bent over the bed, bracing himself on his elbows. “I’ll repay you the money, I swear. And I’ll detail the Impala until she doesn’t smell like ‘woodland spice’ anymore.”
John folded his belt in half and positioned himself behind his son’s presented bottom. “That money is for emergencies only, Dean,” John stated firmly. He cracked the belt down across Dean’s bared butt and Dean flinched, sucking in a ragged breath of pain.
“Yes, sir,” Dean spat out through gritted teeth.
“I don’t ever want to see something like this happening again, you hear me?” John brought the belt down again, leaving a red welt across both of Dean’s quivering cheeks.
Dean grunted, tears coming to his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he managed to choke. “Never again.”
The belt whistled through the air, and Dean clenched, waiting for the next searing jolt.
THE END
Dean and Sam flinched at the look of murder on their father’s face.
“What’s up, Dad,” Dean asked, innocent smile plastered on his teenage face.
“What the hell is this?” John demanded, waving a crumpled receipt in front of Dean’s nose. “$75.00 for a bottle of perfume?!”
Sam squeaked and paled visibly. He slid a little further down the bed, away from Dean and his dad. He knew about the purchase, but wasn’t directly involved and didn’t see any reason to become involved now, especially when it looked like their dad was about to hand down a royal ass whipping to any and all perpetrators.
Dean licked his lips, glancing nervously at the piece of paper in his father’s hand and then up to his Dad’s face. “Uh, that? That’s actually not for perfume, sir. It’s um, well it’s for cologne.”
John blinked. “Cologne?” he repeated dully.
“Yeah, you know? Girls wear perfume and guys wear cologne?” Dean offered.
John glared at his son. “I know what cologne is, smart ass,” he stated, testily. “What the hell are you doing buying $75.00 worth of it?”
Dean shrugged, flushing a little. “Well, Stacy likes it.”
John just stared at him.
“Stacy’s this hot chick at school, see? And she really likes this one cologne, but it’s kinda pricey-”
John cut him off. “Kinda pricey? “Old Spice is ‘kinda pricey’ on our budget, Dean. This,” He held up the sales receipt once again. “is way beyond it.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Where exactly did you get $75.00 from?”
Dean swallowed hard.
“Dean. Michael. Winchester.” John intoned slowly. “Where did you get the money for this?”
“He took it from the cookie jar,” Sam blurted out and then slapped his hands over his mouth in horror.
John’s face twisted into a mask of cold fury. “You used our reserve cash to buy yourself some stupid cologne in order to impress some girl at school?” he inquired caustically, the vein in his temple beginning to throb.
Dean’s mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to come up with a valid excuse. In the end he just nodded unhappily.
“You’re taking the stuff back tomorrow and getting a refund,” John stated angrily. He tossed the receipt onto Dean’s lap, giving his son an ominous look.
“I can’t,” Dean mumbled, eyes falling to his lap.
“What?” John stiffened. He wasn’t used to Dean refusing an order outright like that.
“The bottle broke on the ride home,” Dean explained, wincing under his father’s stern visage. “There’s nothing left to return.”
“Yeah, you should smell the car now,” Sam chuckled under his breath and then gasped when Dean kicked him sharply in the shin.
John was speechless for a long, scary moment. His face darkened as he nodded at Sam. “You. Out.”
Sam scrambled off the bed and bolted for the bedroom door as fast as his legs could carry him. John turned back to Dean as he reached down to unbuckle his belt.
“You. Pants down, over the bed,” John commanded.
Dean stood up on shaky legs and slowly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans, trying hard not to hyperventilate. He knew he shouldn’t have taken the risk buying the cologne, but Stacy had said she really got off on guys who wore that scent and images of her curvy body pressed up against his had led Dean to think with his downstairs brain instead of his upstairs one.
“I’m really sorry, Dad,” Dean mumbled as he bent over the bed, bracing himself on his elbows. “I’ll repay you the money, I swear. And I’ll detail the Impala until she doesn’t smell like ‘woodland spice’ anymore.”
John folded his belt in half and positioned himself behind his son’s presented bottom. “That money is for emergencies only, Dean,” John stated firmly. He cracked the belt down across Dean’s bared butt and Dean flinched, sucking in a ragged breath of pain.
“Yes, sir,” Dean spat out through gritted teeth.
“I don’t ever want to see something like this happening again, you hear me?” John brought the belt down again, leaving a red welt across both of Dean’s quivering cheeks.
Dean grunted, tears coming to his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he managed to choke. “Never again.”
The belt whistled through the air, and Dean clenched, waiting for the next searing jolt.
THE END