Laptops Not Lapdances (a comment fic & art meme!)
Dean: ...Now you want to go hang out at a strip club? You hate strip clubs.
Sam: No I don't.
Dean: Dude, the last lapdance you had was at Christmas. It was a gift paid for by me. You spent the entire song trying to convince the girl that she should go to nursing school.
(Video of scene in question hereWhether you've seen the episode or not, you'll ( Read more... )
Sam: No I don't.
Dean: Dude, the last lapdance you had was at Christmas. It was a gift paid for by me. You spent the entire song trying to convince the girl that she should go to nursing school.
(Video of scene in question hereWhether you've seen the episode or not, you'll ( Read more... )
Not having a boner right now, Dean keeps repeating to himself. Not having a fucking boner right now. I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. Sam doesn’t mean it. He’s just- What? It doesn’t matter. I’m not having a boner.
It’s a lie, of course. There are bodily reactions you can’t control, and it’s only a matter of time before Sam realizes he’s capable of extracting all kinds of them from Dean.
*
A gift is a gift and Sam is in too good a mood to decline anything. And, see, it isn’t that he’s not appreciative of the girl in front of him. He is. His eyes are focused on her body and the way it moves, but at some point he asks her something and the look of surprise in her face makes the dance slow down. Dean overhears the conversation, fills in instinctively the bits he misses because of the music blasting at full volume. He thinks Sam is giving the girl career advice (and, c’mon, can you imagine anything more lame?), but through a feral grin she comments that she already is in nursing school, thank you very much. It’s a weird thing for Dean to witness, really. Sam was frowning at the girl’s technique but all of a sudden he starts acting like he wants to get to know her better, ask for her number, go on a date or something. He slides her more money before the routine is over, even though Dean’s the one paying for the whole thing.
“Um,” Sam says, as they walk out of the club. “I guess I owe you a thank you?”
“You’re fucking unbelievable, Sammy,” Dean grumbles.
“What?”
“Just so you know, I’m never letting you live this down. And I’m never giving you any presents ever again.” It’s an empty threat, but still.
“Look, I appreciate what you did, okay?” Sam says. “Can we just leave it at that?”
Dean groans. “I need a drink.”
*
Once they return to the motel room, Dean seems to remember the night can’t be over yet. They never go to bed early, regardless of holiday season. So he orders some pizza, because he knows that soon enough Sam is gonna be starving, even if he wouldn’t admit it, and checks for beer in the room’s mini fridge.
As they wait for the pizza, the subject of their conversation circles back to the lap dance and Sam’s dumbass attitude regarding anything remotely sexy.
“Shame on you, Sam,” Dean says, not bothering to look over at the other bed. He stares at the suspicious spot on the ceiling, wondering why he didn’t book them in a fancier place at least for today. Sam would’ve like that better than the stripper, probably. “Man, sometimes you seriously make me question how the hell we can be related.”
“Shut up.”
“I mean, really, what was the issue there? As far as I know, you’re into girls. There was a smoking hot girl in your lap tonight and… Nothing. I don’t get it.”
Sam’s sigh echoes throughout the room, and a long silence follows.
Dean gets them more beer, because he never knew how to celebrate anything without adding more alcohol to it.
After a while he glances at Sam’s direction. His beer bottles are sitting empty on the bedside table, and he’s sprawled on the mattress, eyelids closed to feign sleep.
Bothering Sam is one of Dean’s life duties, but when Sam doesn’t bicker right back it always feels wrong, makes every one of his muscles tense. So right there and then Dean comes close to apologizing for, well, all of it. In anyway, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? He was looking out for Sam. It’s what he does.
Reply
Leave a comment