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... )
"So embarrassing," Sam muttered as he sat heavily at the edge of his bed.
Dean's Christmas present had been thoughtful, in its own way. But it was the tenth lapdance at least that Sam had had to suffer through in his life, while the object of his affections had sat beside him, just out of arm's reach.
Sam opened his laptop, ready to forget how the girl tonight -- a biology major trying to figure out what to do when she graduated -- had followed his gaze knowingly, like she could read his salacious fraternal thoughts.
She'd been so nice, which made it worse somehow. He could still smell her perfume on him, and it smelled like pity.
Safe in his room now, in flannel PJ pants and a faded band shirt that may or may not belong to a close relative, Sam queued up one of his favorite movies.
But about a minute in, he found his mind wandering.
He hit the spacebar and leaned back on an elbow, closing his eyes. He sent out a silent wish to the universe, with much chagrin, that Dean would one day get him the present he actually wanted, that his brother would one day realize just who he wanted a lapdance from...
ZAP!
Sam yanked his fingers away from the keys at the jolt of electricty.
"Wha--?"
It was no longer Sam's trusty computer resting on his knees, but the heavy weight of his brother.
Dean looked -- well, shocked was not a strong enough word. Alarmed. And rumpled. Clinging to Sam's neck and wearing just boxers, like he'd been zapped onto Sam's lap straight out of bed (or Sam's # 1 fantasy)!
Sam gaped. "Dean!"
"Sam! What the hell!"
"How did you-- You just--" Sam said stupidly. Then, looking around on the ground but finding nothing, "Hey! What did you do with my computer?"
Dean, for his part, looked very displeased. "What did I do?" he said. "There I was, just minding my own business, thinking about what that chick earlier said to me-- I mean, just thinking about her uh, smokin' hot bod, yeah, that's it..."
Was it Sam's imagination, or had Dean started to blush?
"Anyway, then out of nowhere, I was here." He shifted in Sam's lap. Sam spread his legs a little so Dean could sit more comfortably.
"Oh," Sam frowned. Then frowned harder.
The pieces of a theory started falling into place. He thought of the girl's knowing look, and his desperate wish just moments ago.
He gasped. "I think that girl at the strip club was a witch!"
Dean stilled. "What! I hate witches!"
"Yes, Dean, I know. It's just, some of my thoughts, came true? Also I tipped really well, so it's possible she was repaying me...?"
"I guess that would make sense," Dean muttered. "She was wearing a pentagram charm. Dangling between her perky, lingeried breasts. Wait, repaying you how?"
Logic said to shove Dean off, but Sam wrapped an arm around his waist instead. "Um..." he said. "A second ago, I was thinking about you..."
Dean looked...interested. "I see," he purred. "Pushin my buttons, baby brother."
Sam was amazed at the generosity of a near stranger. He thought, if this impossible wish came true then what the hell-- Maybe it was too much to ask but: "I want my laptop back too?" he wished out loud.
The laptop appeared into Dean's lap.
Life was now complete, Sam thought blissfully, and went in for a kiss.
But his mouth landed on his brother's ear when Dean turned his head to peer at the computer screen and say in tones of great censure, "Are you seriously watching Beastmaster 2 right now? You are seriously in danger of not getting laid."
Sam grinned into Dean's neck. Now this lapdance was just his style.
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