Comment fic: Supernatural/Leverage, Dean/Eliot, Cowboys
Prompt: Leverage/Supernatural, Eliot/Dean, cowboys
Original Location: http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/79602.html?thread=18286834#t18286834
Summary: Dean Winchester goes to drown his sorrows in a bar, stumbles into a Team Leverage con, suspects Eliot is not human, and pretends to be Eliot’s boyfriend (to the amusement of everyone but Eliot).
Part 1: Mexico
“I’m telling you, ever since that damn movie came out you can’t be a gay cowboy without looking like kind of a dick.” Dean raised his half-empty glass of Jack Daniels to accentuate his statement. His goal for the night no longer involved getting smashed beyond oblivion though, so he was careful about how much he actually drank.
After sitting back long enough to get a handle on the back-story Eliot and his people were selling, he had fallen effortlessly into his role as Gavin’s Boyfriend, playing off of Eliot’s drawl, stressing his own Midwestern accent, and acting like they were just a couple of cowboys out for a good time.
He had picked up on who among the group were in on the con and who among them were marks. Eliot, who was calling himself Gavin, seemed to be working with the bartender Alice, the British woman who was supposedly his stepsister Sarah, and the doctor who’d been sipping ginger ale and aggressively avoiding the bottle of gin next to him all night. The doctor was named Nick or Rick or Dick or something like that, but it didn’t really matter. Dean didn’t put much stock in anyone’s names being real anyway considering his “boyfriend” had been “Hardison,” “Eliot,” and “Gavin” over the course of about 20 minutes.
The more Dean watched, the more Dean realized there was somebody else communicating with Eliot, Alice, Sarah, and Nick. He didn’t know if it was a psychic link or simple human tech, but there were moments were they’d all subtly react at the same time-a smirk, a frown, maybe an exchange of glances. They were definitely getting intel from somebody who wasn’t in that bar. Maybe somebody calling the shots, maybe just somebody feeding them information.
The hefty man with his arm draped over Sarah’s shoulder laughed the hearty laugh of a mark who didn’t question the sudden coincidences that brought certain people into his lives. Dean laughed along with him, then winked at the chubby redheaded woman who hadn’t taken her eyes off of him that night. She definitely wasn’t in on the con-and if she was, she was damn unfocused.
“Doesn’t stop him from wearing the cowboy hat though.” Dean placed his hand on top of Eliot’s head and gave it a gentle tap. Eliot’s smile was tight and he didn’t bother trying to hide the murderous glare he was shooting in Dean’s direction. He could feel the other man tensing up and Dean laughed to himself wondering if he was just worried Dean would follow through on his promise to stroke his hair like the big doll that he was.
The rest of the group had taken his addition to the mix in stride, but Sarah was kind of brilliant at it. She’d introduced him to the two Chinese men beside her in what could have been perfect or horrible Mandarin for all Dean knew, then she’d asked Hefty to play nice because Dean could be her future brother in law. Dean had eaten the whole thing up, curious about what was going on, and intrigued by how well everyone was adapting to his presence.
Everyone but the man who was stealing opportunities to shoot death glares at him, of course.
Even Dean wasn’t sure why he was being so casual about taunting a man who clearly knew how to handle himself in a fight and who seemed a good pick for not being all human. It was reckless for sure, but then again so was getting so drunk that he couldn’t handle a fight with a duck if it came at him, and he’d been ready to do that not long ago.
More than anything, it was probably being asked to leave earlier. Dean was the hunter, the mystery-solver-he was the guy calling the shots and getting civilians out of the way. If anything, he was kind of offended that Eliot hadn’t recognized that in him.
Jerk.
He went ahead and ran his fingers through his hair.
Original Location: http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/79602.html?thread=18286834#t18286834
Summary: Dean Winchester goes to drown his sorrows in a bar, stumbles into a Team Leverage con, suspects Eliot is not human, and pretends to be Eliot’s boyfriend (to the amusement of everyone but Eliot).
Part 1: Mexico
“I’m telling you, ever since that damn movie came out you can’t be a gay cowboy without looking like kind of a dick.” Dean raised his half-empty glass of Jack Daniels to accentuate his statement. His goal for the night no longer involved getting smashed beyond oblivion though, so he was careful about how much he actually drank.
After sitting back long enough to get a handle on the back-story Eliot and his people were selling, he had fallen effortlessly into his role as Gavin’s Boyfriend, playing off of Eliot’s drawl, stressing his own Midwestern accent, and acting like they were just a couple of cowboys out for a good time.
He had picked up on who among the group were in on the con and who among them were marks. Eliot, who was calling himself Gavin, seemed to be working with the bartender Alice, the British woman who was supposedly his stepsister Sarah, and the doctor who’d been sipping ginger ale and aggressively avoiding the bottle of gin next to him all night. The doctor was named Nick or Rick or Dick or something like that, but it didn’t really matter. Dean didn’t put much stock in anyone’s names being real anyway considering his “boyfriend” had been “Hardison,” “Eliot,” and “Gavin” over the course of about 20 minutes.
The more Dean watched, the more Dean realized there was somebody else communicating with Eliot, Alice, Sarah, and Nick. He didn’t know if it was a psychic link or simple human tech, but there were moments were they’d all subtly react at the same time-a smirk, a frown, maybe an exchange of glances. They were definitely getting intel from somebody who wasn’t in that bar. Maybe somebody calling the shots, maybe just somebody feeding them information.
The hefty man with his arm draped over Sarah’s shoulder laughed the hearty laugh of a mark who didn’t question the sudden coincidences that brought certain people into his lives. Dean laughed along with him, then winked at the chubby redheaded woman who hadn’t taken her eyes off of him that night. She definitely wasn’t in on the con-and if she was, she was damn unfocused.
“Doesn’t stop him from wearing the cowboy hat though.” Dean placed his hand on top of Eliot’s head and gave it a gentle tap. Eliot’s smile was tight and he didn’t bother trying to hide the murderous glare he was shooting in Dean’s direction. He could feel the other man tensing up and Dean laughed to himself wondering if he was just worried Dean would follow through on his promise to stroke his hair like the big doll that he was.
The rest of the group had taken his addition to the mix in stride, but Sarah was kind of brilliant at it. She’d introduced him to the two Chinese men beside her in what could have been perfect or horrible Mandarin for all Dean knew, then she’d asked Hefty to play nice because Dean could be her future brother in law. Dean had eaten the whole thing up, curious about what was going on, and intrigued by how well everyone was adapting to his presence.
Everyone but the man who was stealing opportunities to shoot death glares at him, of course.
Even Dean wasn’t sure why he was being so casual about taunting a man who clearly knew how to handle himself in a fight and who seemed a good pick for not being all human. It was reckless for sure, but then again so was getting so drunk that he couldn’t handle a fight with a duck if it came at him, and he’d been ready to do that not long ago.
More than anything, it was probably being asked to leave earlier. Dean was the hunter, the mystery-solver-he was the guy calling the shots and getting civilians out of the way. If anything, he was kind of offended that Eliot hadn’t recognized that in him.
Jerk.
He went ahead and ran his fingers through his hair.