Prompt: # 22 Chores
Type of Story: General
Author's Website: None
Author's Note: This story is set pre-series. Story summary Sam and Dean don't complete their chores in time
.but all is not what it seems.
John Winchester came in from his most recent hunt, having been gone for about three days. The place was a disaster. There were pizza boxes piled up all over the place, discarded fast food bags and wrappers wherever he looked. There were empty glasses and soda cans all over the place too. He knew that with two teen age boys a place after three days could look like there had been a month long party going on. He waded his way through the trash into the kitchen to find dishes piled high as well as the trash overflowing and a foul smell. He reached into the fridge for a beer. He couldn't find the bottle opener and shoved the brew back from where he had taken it frustrated. He rubbed his hands over his face wearily and trudge to his room. Here, when he opened it was a sanctuary from the trash and odors. Here, things were tranquil and a haven of neatness and orderliness. It was like a balm to his soul. John stretched out on his clean bed and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.
Sam woke at the sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive. He groaned. It was dad's truck. 'Oh shit, he and Dean had meant to clean up last night, but had been too tired and had decided to do it in the morning. Dad was going to have a fit. He hated coming home to a messy house. He had warned them about that several times. He looked across at Dean's bed. His brother was soundly sleeping. He wondered if he should wake him and the two of them go downstairs to clean up before Dad got up. Maybe he'd think it had only been a dream
He tiptoed over to his brother.
"Dean?" Sam called softly. "Wake up. Dad's home and we didn't do our clean up chores." Sam tried.
Dean opened one eye. "Shit Sammy, if Dad's already home we're dead meat anyway. We'll just have to explain we were going to clean up the house in the morning. He'll understand." Dean mumbled sleepily.
"If we get everything cleaned up now maybe he'll think it was a bad dream." Sam told his older brother.
"Forget it Sammy, you can't fool Dad. We'll just have to take the consequences in the morning. Go to bed." Dean rolled over and went back to sleep.
Sam lay back on his bed, knowing his older brother was right.
In a while Sam found he couldn't sleep worrying about what dad would say and do in the morning. He slipped downstairs in bare feet and pajama bottoms and T-shirt. He began with the living room, picking up all the trash, bagging it all. Then he crushed the pizza boxes and piled them up next to the trash he had collected. He bagged the kitchen trash then, wrinkling his nose at the horrible smell. As he worked he could hear the ticking of the clock and the time seemed to be flying away. He knew he had to wash the dishes and hoped his dad or Dean wouldn't wake with the sound of the running water. He washed, dried and put away all the dishes. A couple of hours had gone by now. He scrubbed the kitchen table and then mopped the floor. He ran the carpet cleaner over the rug in the living room, hoping it would be sufficient because he knew the noise of the vacuum would wake the sleeping members of the household. When everything was neat as a pin Sam smiled at his handiwork. At least dad wouldn't wake to a horrible mess and maybe he'd go lightly on them. It was still dark outside and Sam was getting ready to start hauling out the trash when he heard a sound at the foot of the stairs. He glanced around and Saw Dean standing there giving him a hard look, arms crossed across his chest.
"Where do you think you're going little brother and just what the hell do you think you're doing? Didn't I tell you to leave this mess until morning? Didn't I tell you we would explain to dad an that he would understand? Didn't I tell you that your doing all this wouldn't fool him?"
Sam looked at his brother and stammered, "I-I couldn't sleep. I was worried. I didn't want dad to wake up to the same awful mess he walked in on last night."
"But you were ready to walk outside in the middle of the night, without any protection to drag all that trash out? Do you realize how dangerous that is?" Dean questioned the younger Winchester.
"Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't think about that." Sam said looking down on the floor and believing he was in big trouble with his big brother right now.
Another, deeper voice said from the stairs, "Why weren't you down here helping your brother Dean?" The elder hunter asked in a deceptively quiet calm voice.
Dean jumped, turning to look at his father and Sam's head shot up.
John Winchester pointed to the sofa. "The two of you sit, now, while you still can!"
Sam walked over to the sofa and Dean stepped off the stairs to join him. John, glanced all around him and was pleased that his son had made the effort to clean up, but frowned at the huge pile of trash Sam had intended to dispose of by himself in the middle of the night. He stood in front of his boys and frowning said, "Do the two of you realize if you had done your chores it wouldn't have had to come to this
cleaning up in the middle of the night?"
Both Winchester sons nodded.
"You also know then that if you had both been doing this that Sam wouldn't have had to try to bring all this trash out by himself Dean?" John eyed his oldest.
"Yes Sir." Dean replied.
"Good. Sam, I want you to go up to your room and not come down until Dean tells you to." John instructed.
"Yes Sir. Sam replied, giving his older brother a sympathetic look.
Once Sam had gone upstairs, John addressed his oldest child. "Dean, why did you let Sammy come down here all by himself and do all this work?"
Dean squirmed. I didn't exactly let him Dad; he sort of did it by himself. He wanted me to, but I told him to go to bed." Dean flushed.
"So, instead of helping your brother when you knew he was worried you told him to go back to sleep instead of helping him with the clean up chores?" John gave his son a rather pissed off look.
"Uhm, Yes Sir." The older brother replied.
"Dean, that is just plain laziness. Do you realize just how dangerous it would have been for your brother to have gone out there in the night by himself, unprotected, just to dump the trash?" John asked angrily.
"Yes Sir." Dean responded.
John sat down on the sofa next to Dean and more quickly than Dean was prepared for hauled him over his knee. "Do you know why you are in this position; ready to get your butt smacked Dean?"
"Because Sammy was too stupid to wait until morning to clean up this place!" Dean stated.
John slipped his fingers into the waistband of both his son's pajama pants and briefs, hauling them down in one swift move exposing the pale skin of his backside. He smacked him right in the center of his cheeks.
Dean, not expecting this so swiftly yelped. "Oww!"
"Would you like to try again son?" John asked, resting his large heavy hand on the red spot now marring Dean's bottom.
Dean, still feeling the sting replied, "Because I was too lazy to get up and help Sam and because I allowed the house to get into such a mess to begin with."
"Very good," John said, proceeding with the punishment. When he was through Dean's backside was a flaming inferno and a fiery red. He was crying and John gently pulled his clothes back up, causing Dean to yelp again and to cry harder. John rubbed his son's back until he quieted and then, flipped his son upright into his lap and comforted him. "It's all right now Dean. You're forgiven. I don't ever want to see something like this happen ever again, do you understand?"
Dean, dashing tears from his eyes nodded, and then replied, "Yes Sir. I'm sorry Dad, I should have been taking better care of things, and then Sammy wouldn't have put himself in danger by attempting to clean up and dumping the trash in the middle of the night."
"That's exactly right son. I know you're sorry." John continued to comfort Dean until he pulled away and got off his father's lap. Dean rubbed his sore bottom and said ruefully, "I hope there's still some skin left back there."
John smiled and said, "I'm very certain there is still skin back there son, it's just very tender is all." John gave Dean one last quick hug. He knew his oldest son wasn't one for cuddling for a long period of time after a spanking. "Send your brother down please." John instructed his oldest son.
"Yes Sir." Dean made his way stiffly up the stairs his backside protesting every step of the way. Dean gave it one more good rub before entering the room he as sharing with his brother.
"Sam, Dad's ready for you." Dean informed his brother.
Sam, looking up into his brother's red rimmed eyes didn't have to ask how bad it had been. Dad's spankings were never less than terrible. He asked, "Are you all right?"
Dean grimaced. "I'm all right. Nothing I haven't ever experienced before. Not one of the worst I've ever had, but certainly right up there with one of the most memorable ones."
Sam grimaced and then made his way down the stairs. He found his father sitting on the sofa looking tired.
John Winchester looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. His youngest son was making his way down. 'Damn the kid is sprouting up like a weed!' The elder Winchester observed. When Sam made his way in front of his father John asked, "Sam, do you know why you are going to be spanked?"
Sam hung his head. "For letting the house get so messy, not doing my chores, sneaking down here in the middle of the night to clean up so you would think that maybe you hadn't really seen what you did when you came in and taking the trash outside without protection in the middle of the night." Sam listed his wrongs.
"Correct Sam." The older hunter took his tall son by the wrist and pulled him across his lap. He did as he had to Dean, removing both his briefs and pajama pants at the same time baring his backside. John's hard calloused hand landed in the center of Sam's butt and Sam let out a yelp.
"Oww! Dad! That hurts!"
As John continued to punish his youngest's vulnerable backside with relentless swats on all the parts used for sitting purposes. Sam squirmed, howled, begged and pleaded for the correction to stop, but it kept on and on his backside blazing, a fiery inferno. "Please Dad! It hurts! Please stop!" Sam heard himself beg, but the hand continued to punish his very tender bottom
Sam Winchester woke his pillow wet with his tears. He reached back only to find that his bottom was not on fire
it had been a dream
A nightmare. He glanced over at Dean still sleeping. 'Damn, it had seemed so real. He and Dean had better get the house cleaned up in the morning. Hopefully dad wouldn't come home before then and see the mess
Sam shivered as he heard the engine f his Dad's truck pulling into the drive.
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