My insanity, let me show you it
This? Would never have been written if not for the fact that vna04 has super duper evil powers. Therefore, it is completely her fault that you must be submitted to this.
omg, don't even get me started on the Wincesst & Cookleta possibilities!! ooohhh!! Plot bunny alert!
What if there was a Cookleta/Wincest crossover fic? Like a whatever spirit starts haunting the studio where the davids work and the dean and sam figure it was something they have to go after. and they do their thing research and going undercover at the studio and schnizz then they get introduced to the davids and well, archie is pretty and dean is sorta flirting with him. but cook and sam notices. and sam gives dean hell while cook goes all protective and jealous and OMG, all the effing possibilities! ^o^ *spazzzz*
Her plot is actually somewhat realistic, I however, accidentally (*sings*
on purpose!) turned the whole thing into crack when it turns out that my!Sam and my!Dean actually watch American Idol. Honestly, I swear I tried to make it serious, but it was all just downhill from there. Oops? XD
But still...if you guys have pitchforks and flaming torches, she’s that-a-way *points*
This was meant to be a comment drabble, but it turned into a monster.
Title: Groupie
Pairing(s): Cookleta | Wincest | Dean/Archie (only in Dean's mind XD)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2300
Warnings: I was going to say "none" but then I realized that's only for thoroughly desensitized fandom whores like me. XD So yeah, incest, though take note of the rating, I promise, it's nothing at all.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making making money. Supernatural belongs to Kripke and Co.
This is a restricted post though, so as long as none of you go reporting me, all is well. Don't sue me please!
Summary: In which Sam is a David Archuleta fan and Dean is...a David Archuleta
fan.
"Sam, what the hell are we doing here?" Dean sighed in exasperation as he parked the car and looked over at his brother. Sam looked up from the tie he was adjusting around his neck, "I told you Dean, this sounds like our sort of thing. Mysterious disappearances, electrical equipment playing up. And it happens around this time
every year. It's all signs of an angry spirit."
Sam reached into the backseat of the impala and threw a newspaper article into Dean’s lap. Dean didn’t have to read it to know that it spoke of the sudden disappearance of a sound engineer from a New York recording studio, so he ignored it. The fact that it happened every year was niggling at him, but not as much as the fact that Sam insisted they bypass three other possible jobs on the way here in favour of this one. “That’s bullshit man, it hardly points to anything supernatural. Clearly these guys just get sick of working with Hollywood divas and the studio needs to replace its equipment.”
“Dean, we’ve looked into things for much less. Please, can we just check this out?” Sam gave Dean his pleading eyes, which Dean hated to admit normally worked, but not when he was so curious. He simply continued to stare at Sam. Sam huffed unhappily and conceded, “Fine. That sound tech that went missing? He was part of David Archuleta’s creative team. I figure we could pretend to be the replacements in order to get in.”
Dean’s expression was blank. “Who?”
“David Archuleta. From American Idol.” Sam stared studiously outside his window, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze. When Dean was silent for a moment, Sam forced himself to look up. He watched as the realization dawned slowly on Dean’s face.
“You were voting for that kid weren’t you? No wonder you didn’t put down your phone for hours!” Dean crowed, and then, almost as an afterthought, “I preferred that Cook guy myself.”
Sam’s head whipped up and he started to laugh incredulously. Dean bristled defensively, “What? Dude, I watched it because that Kristy Lee chick was hot. Syesha too.”
Sam shook his head, still grinning. “Whatever. Let’s just salt and burn this thing and get out of here, ok?”
“Oh, and maybe get Archuleta’s autograph as well?” Dean, laughing, climbed swiftly out of the car and made his way into the building before Sam could get all pissy.
~*~
Sam entered the building to find Dean leaning casually against the front desk and openly flirting with the receptionist. Upon Sam’s approach, she cleared her throat. “So, yes, you say you’re the sound engineers?”
Dean nodded.
“And your names?”
“Dean Young, and my colleague Sam Johnson.”
The receptionist typed something into her computer, before frowning. “It says here that we don’t have any sound engineers booked for today. David is just finishing up.”
Dean smiled. “Listen uh,” he looked at her name tag, “Melissa, there must just be some misunderstanding. I’m sure we wouldn’t want to keep Mr Archuleta waiting.”
Melissa reached up to pat her hair, looking flustered, “Well, of course, you’re right Mr Young. Here I’ll take you up straight away.” Dean winked at her, “fantastic.”
Sam and Dean followed Melissa off the elevator on the 11th floor. She walked them down a hallway before stopping outside a door. “This is where he takes his breaks.” She opened the door and gestured for them to go in.
Dean stepped inside with one last wink. Sam turned around to thank Melissa before following after his brother. The room itself was a comfortable size. There was a sitting area near the windows, where a soft looking sofa was located, a backpack settled neatly in one corner. In front of it there was a low coffee table, upon which sat a jug of water, a half filled glass and an iPod.
The brothers started when a young man walked in from the adjoining studio, chatting animatedly on his phone. He stopped abruptly when he spotted them. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute!” Smiling and holding up one finger, David Archuleta turned back into the other room. “Brooke? Can I call you later?”
Sam turned to Dean, who had raised an appreciative eyebrow. “He’s...grown a lot.” Dean said.
Sam’s eyes widened disbelievingly. Dean scoffed, “What? You get to fawn all over his music and I don’t get to check him out?” Sam was seriously disturbed. Before he could say as much, David had re-entered the room.
“Um, hi, can I help you?” he spoke softly, eyeing their outfits with barely concealed wariness.
Sam was about to reply and perhaps mention that he had enjoyed David’s performances on the show, but was cut off when Dean started forward and offered his hand to David. “Hi David, I’m Dean, and this is Sam-” he waved his other hand carelessly in Sam’s direction, not even bothering to turn around, “we’re the new sound engineers.”
“Oh, um okay.” David shook Dean’s hand and smiled politely at Sam before turning back to his brother. “I thought I was done for the day though. I only came in to review some songs with the producers; no one said there’d be any recording.”
“There must’ve been a change of plans,” Dean said smoothly.
David shrugged. “I guess.” There was an awkward moment when no one knew what to say. David shuffled his feet before finally breaking the silence. “You guys are dressed really nicely for sound engineers. I thought you were label executives or something.” He suddenly flushed bright red, “I mean, um, not that engineers are bums or anything, but you know, most of them just dress in a shirt and jeans because they just sit behind the mixing console all day. But you know, you can wear whatever you want I guess, I mean. Oh gosh.” David looked like he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room.
Dean chuckled before resting a hand on David’s shoulder (Sam raised his eyebrows), “hey it’s okay David, we’re new in town; we haven’t had the chance to unpack yet.” He grinned widely at David, which caused the boy to blush even harder, before turning around discreetly and glaring at Sam. Sam shrugged helplessly, the suits were a default disguise - how was he supposed to know what sound technicians wore?
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve been so rude, please sit down.” David gestured to the two armchairs facing the sofa, before sitting down himself. Sam declined politely, opting to stay standing should the nasty spirit decide to announce its arrival. Dean however, had no such qualms and, ignoring the armchair, plopped himself easily down on the sofa next to David.
“So David, how’re things going?” Sam rolled his eyes. They were here to get rid of a spirit, not chat up the studio’s superstar client. David looked momentarily confused. Dean must’ve noticed too, because he said hastily, “I mean, with... the album recording.”
David’s face cleared, “Oh! Well, yeah, you know, the equipment keeps malfunctioning. It only works for a couple of hours at a time, so we’ve been doing the recording in parts for the past week. We haven’t really had a regular sound engineer since Tim went missing.” Here, David trailed off sadly. He visibly shook himself when he realized that Sam and Dean were waiting for him to continue. “So um, I normally wait in here until everything starts working again.”
Sam once again opened his mouth to say something, but predictably, Dean beat him to it.
“Yes, of course, well that’s what we’re here for!” Dean gave David his most charming smiling, which Sam knew he only used for
special occasions. Sam was surprised Dean even remembered to include him in that sentence.
He gestured to Dean that he was going to check out the adjoining studio for anything suspicious. Dean just nodded and waved him off, before turning his attention fully to David. Sam huffed and opened the door a little harder than necessary. David and Dean’s voices became distant, and finally silenced altogether the further he moved into the studio. As far as Sam was concerned, everything was normal apart from the fact that none of the equipment was working. The spirit was making itself conspicuously absent.
~*~
“I know right? Me too!” Sam heard David say breathlessly as he made his way back to the break room. When he re-entered, he saw that the boy was giggling, the blush seemingly having never left his cheeks. Dean himself was grinning like the cat that got the cream. Sam watched with increasing incredulity as Dean ducked his head and then looked up at David through his lashes. Oh
please. Sam made sure to stomp extra loudly as he approached the pair.
Dean whipped around and looked surprised to see Sam standing there peevishly.
“Okay, well, let’s get to work shall we?” Dean stood hastily from the sofa and offered his hand to help David up (Sam raised his eyebrows again). What exactly was Dean’s plan here? The guy still listened to
cassette tapes for crying out loud - how was he supposed to handle a professional mixing console? Sam fought the urge to whack Dean over the head and tell him to stop thinking with his downstairs brain.
Just then, the door swung open. “Hey Arch, I was just stopping by to-”
Sam spun around and found himself face to face with none other than David Cook. He was about to introduce himself but found that Cook wasn’t even looking at him. His brow was furrowed and he had his eyes trained on where Dean and David’s hands were clasped, still standing close together, having been distracted when Cook walked in.
“Who are you?” Cook said to Dean in a tone that Sam thought was rather unwarranted for the situation. David abruptly dropped Dean’s hand and wiped it nervously on the thigh of his jeans. Without waiting for a reply, Cook strode across the room in a few long steps and draped an arm around David’s shoulder, effectively fitting himself in between the two of them (Sam decided that he might as well just keep his eyebrows permanently raised).
David laughed nervously and ducked out from under Cook’s arm, though he made no move to leave his side. “Cook, meet Sam and Dean, they’re the new sound engineers.” Sam nodded curtly when Cook looked in his direction, not even attempting to speak. Clearly he was never going to get a word in this morning. Not with this ridiculous testosterone fest.
Cook seemed to relax a bit, but he shifted subtly closer to David when he nodded in acknowledgement to Dean. Dean, still speechless from the sudden turn of events, looked slowly back and forth between the two Davids. Finally, an easy smile returned to his face and he said, “Hey man, nice to meet you.”
“Dean says he’s worked with John Mayer.” David interjected, beaming at Dean.
“He has?” Cook did not look impressed.
“He has?” Sam echoed and looked sharply at Dean, who grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, yeah, uh, you know, just a passing thing years ago.”
Lovely, Sam thought. Aloud, he said tightly “Dean, can I speak to you outside for a minute?”
“Be right back,” Dean said to the Davids, before following Sam through the door and shutting it behind him.
“You know what? Screw Cook, I like Archuleta better.” Dean announced as soon as they were alone.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” Sam rounded on Dean. Dean smiled knowingly, “Why Sammy? Something bothering you?”
“What? No,” Sam sputtered and Dean only grinned wider. Sam floundered for a second more before saying, “Hello, spirit remember? Could you just concentrate on the job for a moment instead of trying to flirt with jailbait?”
“Pssh,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “he’s clearly taken. But it doesn’t hurt to look right? Come on let’s get back.” He grabbed Sam’s elbow and steered him back towards the door.
Sam pulled away from Dean’s grasp. “No, dude, let’s just leave, I know what the problem is anyway.”
Dean stopped. “You do?”
“Yeah, it’s just the spirit of some singer that died before the day of her album release. She tries to sabotage other artists every year on the anniversary of her death.”
“And the sound tech guy?”
Sam shrugged helplessly, “there’s really nothing we can do about that. According to all the previous reports, they never come back.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I looked it up beforehand.”
“What? Sam, we could’ve just looked up the location of her bones and salted and burned them without ever having to come here! You did all that just to meet David Archuleta?!”
Sam’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips, “You weren’t complaining 5 minutes ago, and it’s not like I really got to
talk to him or anything.” He looked pointedly at Dean.
Dean smiled fondly at Sam, which only made him huff harder.
“Okay, okay, look, I’ll just go tell David-”
“Oh it’s
David now is it?”
Dean ignored him “-that we’ve been suddenly reassigned and someone else will be here in 2 hours...possibly slip my number into his pocket.”
“Whatever.” Sam said shortly. He just hoped Dean would come up with a better lie than that... and that he wouldn’t really slip David his number. They both turned and Dean twisted the door handle. What they saw made them freeze in mid-step. The Davids, too busy locked in a fierce kiss, were oblivious to the fact that they were being gaped at. Dean shut the door gently and grinned at Sam. “Or not. Come on little brother, we’ve got some bones to burn.” He slung his arm around Sam’s shoulders and led him down the hall.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily. I’m withholding sex.”
“Aww, c’mon Sammy.”
“Nope, why don’t you give Clay Aiken a call?”
End
-> Sammy's infamous bitchface, which he was totally making the whole way through this fic.
-> Cook being all "back off bitch! Mine!" to Dean. Thanks to evila_elf
-> You know how Dean always assigns him and Sam's aliases according to members of his favourite mullet rock bands? Well, first person to correctly identify which band he used gets a cookie. XD
I know, I know! The supernatural/spirit element is weak, but dudes, I just wanted to write Dean hitting on Archie. XD
omg, don't even get me started on the Wincesst & Cookleta possibilities!! ooohhh!! Plot bunny alert!
What if there was a Cookleta/Wincest crossover fic? Like a whatever spirit starts haunting the studio where the davids work and the dean and sam figure it was something they have to go after. and they do their thing research and going undercover at the studio and schnizz then they get introduced to the davids and well, archie is pretty and dean is sorta flirting with him. but cook and sam notices. and sam gives dean hell while cook goes all protective and jealous and OMG, all the effing possibilities! ^o^ *spazzzz*
Her plot is actually somewhat realistic, I however, accidentally (*sings*
on purpose!) turned the whole thing into crack when it turns out that my!Sam and my!Dean actually watch American Idol. Honestly, I swear I tried to make it serious, but it was all just downhill from there. Oops? XD
But still...if you guys have pitchforks and flaming torches, she’s that-a-way *points*
This was meant to be a comment drabble, but it turned into a monster.
Title: Groupie
Pairing(s): Cookleta | Wincest | Dean/Archie (only in Dean's mind XD)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2300
Warnings: I was going to say "none" but then I realized that's only for thoroughly desensitized fandom whores like me. XD So yeah, incest, though take note of the rating, I promise, it's nothing at all.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making making money. Supernatural belongs to Kripke and Co.
This is a restricted post though, so as long as none of you go reporting me, all is well. Don't sue me please!
Summary: In which Sam is a David Archuleta fan and Dean is...a David Archuleta
fan.
"Sam, what the hell are we doing here?" Dean sighed in exasperation as he parked the car and looked over at his brother. Sam looked up from the tie he was adjusting around his neck, "I told you Dean, this sounds like our sort of thing. Mysterious disappearances, electrical equipment playing up. And it happens around this time
every year. It's all signs of an angry spirit."
Sam reached into the backseat of the impala and threw a newspaper article into Dean’s lap. Dean didn’t have to read it to know that it spoke of the sudden disappearance of a sound engineer from a New York recording studio, so he ignored it. The fact that it happened every year was niggling at him, but not as much as the fact that Sam insisted they bypass three other possible jobs on the way here in favour of this one. “That’s bullshit man, it hardly points to anything supernatural. Clearly these guys just get sick of working with Hollywood divas and the studio needs to replace its equipment.”
“Dean, we’ve looked into things for much less. Please, can we just check this out?” Sam gave Dean his pleading eyes, which Dean hated to admit normally worked, but not when he was so curious. He simply continued to stare at Sam. Sam huffed unhappily and conceded, “Fine. That sound tech that went missing? He was part of David Archuleta’s creative team. I figure we could pretend to be the replacements in order to get in.”
Dean’s expression was blank. “Who?”
“David Archuleta. From American Idol.” Sam stared studiously outside his window, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze. When Dean was silent for a moment, Sam forced himself to look up. He watched as the realization dawned slowly on Dean’s face.
“You were voting for that kid weren’t you? No wonder you didn’t put down your phone for hours!” Dean crowed, and then, almost as an afterthought, “I preferred that Cook guy myself.”
Sam’s head whipped up and he started to laugh incredulously. Dean bristled defensively, “What? Dude, I watched it because that Kristy Lee chick was hot. Syesha too.”
Sam shook his head, still grinning. “Whatever. Let’s just salt and burn this thing and get out of here, ok?”
“Oh, and maybe get Archuleta’s autograph as well?” Dean, laughing, climbed swiftly out of the car and made his way into the building before Sam could get all pissy.
~*~
Sam entered the building to find Dean leaning casually against the front desk and openly flirting with the receptionist. Upon Sam’s approach, she cleared her throat. “So, yes, you say you’re the sound engineers?”
Dean nodded.
“And your names?”
“Dean Young, and my colleague Sam Johnson.”
The receptionist typed something into her computer, before frowning. “It says here that we don’t have any sound engineers booked for today. David is just finishing up.”
Dean smiled. “Listen uh,” he looked at her name tag, “Melissa, there must just be some misunderstanding. I’m sure we wouldn’t want to keep Mr Archuleta waiting.”
Melissa reached up to pat her hair, looking flustered, “Well, of course, you’re right Mr Young. Here I’ll take you up straight away.” Dean winked at her, “fantastic.”
Sam and Dean followed Melissa off the elevator on the 11th floor. She walked them down a hallway before stopping outside a door. “This is where he takes his breaks.” She opened the door and gestured for them to go in.
Dean stepped inside with one last wink. Sam turned around to thank Melissa before following after his brother. The room itself was a comfortable size. There was a sitting area near the windows, where a soft looking sofa was located, a backpack settled neatly in one corner. In front of it there was a low coffee table, upon which sat a jug of water, a half filled glass and an iPod.
The brothers started when a young man walked in from the adjoining studio, chatting animatedly on his phone. He stopped abruptly when he spotted them. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute!” Smiling and holding up one finger, David Archuleta turned back into the other room. “Brooke? Can I call you later?”
Sam turned to Dean, who had raised an appreciative eyebrow. “He’s...grown a lot.” Dean said.
Sam’s eyes widened disbelievingly. Dean scoffed, “What? You get to fawn all over his music and I don’t get to check him out?” Sam was seriously disturbed. Before he could say as much, David had re-entered the room.
“Um, hi, can I help you?” he spoke softly, eyeing their outfits with barely concealed wariness.
Sam was about to reply and perhaps mention that he had enjoyed David’s performances on the show, but was cut off when Dean started forward and offered his hand to David. “Hi David, I’m Dean, and this is Sam-” he waved his other hand carelessly in Sam’s direction, not even bothering to turn around, “we’re the new sound engineers.”
“Oh, um okay.” David shook Dean’s hand and smiled politely at Sam before turning back to his brother. “I thought I was done for the day though. I only came in to review some songs with the producers; no one said there’d be any recording.”
“There must’ve been a change of plans,” Dean said smoothly.
David shrugged. “I guess.” There was an awkward moment when no one knew what to say. David shuffled his feet before finally breaking the silence. “You guys are dressed really nicely for sound engineers. I thought you were label executives or something.” He suddenly flushed bright red, “I mean, um, not that engineers are bums or anything, but you know, most of them just dress in a shirt and jeans because they just sit behind the mixing console all day. But you know, you can wear whatever you want I guess, I mean. Oh gosh.” David looked like he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room.
Dean chuckled before resting a hand on David’s shoulder (Sam raised his eyebrows), “hey it’s okay David, we’re new in town; we haven’t had the chance to unpack yet.” He grinned widely at David, which caused the boy to blush even harder, before turning around discreetly and glaring at Sam. Sam shrugged helplessly, the suits were a default disguise - how was he supposed to know what sound technicians wore?
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve been so rude, please sit down.” David gestured to the two armchairs facing the sofa, before sitting down himself. Sam declined politely, opting to stay standing should the nasty spirit decide to announce its arrival. Dean however, had no such qualms and, ignoring the armchair, plopped himself easily down on the sofa next to David.
“So David, how’re things going?” Sam rolled his eyes. They were here to get rid of a spirit, not chat up the studio’s superstar client. David looked momentarily confused. Dean must’ve noticed too, because he said hastily, “I mean, with... the album recording.”
David’s face cleared, “Oh! Well, yeah, you know, the equipment keeps malfunctioning. It only works for a couple of hours at a time, so we’ve been doing the recording in parts for the past week. We haven’t really had a regular sound engineer since Tim went missing.” Here, David trailed off sadly. He visibly shook himself when he realized that Sam and Dean were waiting for him to continue. “So um, I normally wait in here until everything starts working again.”
Sam once again opened his mouth to say something, but predictably, Dean beat him to it.
“Yes, of course, well that’s what we’re here for!” Dean gave David his most charming smiling, which Sam knew he only used for
special occasions. Sam was surprised Dean even remembered to include him in that sentence.
He gestured to Dean that he was going to check out the adjoining studio for anything suspicious. Dean just nodded and waved him off, before turning his attention fully to David. Sam huffed and opened the door a little harder than necessary. David and Dean’s voices became distant, and finally silenced altogether the further he moved into the studio. As far as Sam was concerned, everything was normal apart from the fact that none of the equipment was working. The spirit was making itself conspicuously absent.
~*~
“I know right? Me too!” Sam heard David say breathlessly as he made his way back to the break room. When he re-entered, he saw that the boy was giggling, the blush seemingly having never left his cheeks. Dean himself was grinning like the cat that got the cream. Sam watched with increasing incredulity as Dean ducked his head and then looked up at David through his lashes. Oh
please. Sam made sure to stomp extra loudly as he approached the pair.
Dean whipped around and looked surprised to see Sam standing there peevishly.
“Okay, well, let’s get to work shall we?” Dean stood hastily from the sofa and offered his hand to help David up (Sam raised his eyebrows again). What exactly was Dean’s plan here? The guy still listened to
cassette tapes for crying out loud - how was he supposed to handle a professional mixing console? Sam fought the urge to whack Dean over the head and tell him to stop thinking with his downstairs brain.
Just then, the door swung open. “Hey Arch, I was just stopping by to-”
Sam spun around and found himself face to face with none other than David Cook. He was about to introduce himself but found that Cook wasn’t even looking at him. His brow was furrowed and he had his eyes trained on where Dean and David’s hands were clasped, still standing close together, having been distracted when Cook walked in.
“Who are you?” Cook said to Dean in a tone that Sam thought was rather unwarranted for the situation. David abruptly dropped Dean’s hand and wiped it nervously on the thigh of his jeans. Without waiting for a reply, Cook strode across the room in a few long steps and draped an arm around David’s shoulder, effectively fitting himself in between the two of them (Sam decided that he might as well just keep his eyebrows permanently raised).
David laughed nervously and ducked out from under Cook’s arm, though he made no move to leave his side. “Cook, meet Sam and Dean, they’re the new sound engineers.” Sam nodded curtly when Cook looked in his direction, not even attempting to speak. Clearly he was never going to get a word in this morning. Not with this ridiculous testosterone fest.
Cook seemed to relax a bit, but he shifted subtly closer to David when he nodded in acknowledgement to Dean. Dean, still speechless from the sudden turn of events, looked slowly back and forth between the two Davids. Finally, an easy smile returned to his face and he said, “Hey man, nice to meet you.”
“Dean says he’s worked with John Mayer.” David interjected, beaming at Dean.
“He has?” Cook did not look impressed.
“He has?” Sam echoed and looked sharply at Dean, who grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, yeah, uh, you know, just a passing thing years ago.”
Lovely, Sam thought. Aloud, he said tightly “Dean, can I speak to you outside for a minute?”
“Be right back,” Dean said to the Davids, before following Sam through the door and shutting it behind him.
“You know what? Screw Cook, I like Archuleta better.” Dean announced as soon as they were alone.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” Sam rounded on Dean. Dean smiled knowingly, “Why Sammy? Something bothering you?”
“What? No,” Sam sputtered and Dean only grinned wider. Sam floundered for a second more before saying, “Hello, spirit remember? Could you just concentrate on the job for a moment instead of trying to flirt with jailbait?”
“Pssh,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “he’s clearly taken. But it doesn’t hurt to look right? Come on let’s get back.” He grabbed Sam’s elbow and steered him back towards the door.
Sam pulled away from Dean’s grasp. “No, dude, let’s just leave, I know what the problem is anyway.”
Dean stopped. “You do?”
“Yeah, it’s just the spirit of some singer that died before the day of her album release. She tries to sabotage other artists every year on the anniversary of her death.”
“And the sound tech guy?”
Sam shrugged helplessly, “there’s really nothing we can do about that. According to all the previous reports, they never come back.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I looked it up beforehand.”
“What? Sam, we could’ve just looked up the location of her bones and salted and burned them without ever having to come here! You did all that just to meet David Archuleta?!”
Sam’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips, “You weren’t complaining 5 minutes ago, and it’s not like I really got to
talk to him or anything.” He looked pointedly at Dean.
Dean smiled fondly at Sam, which only made him huff harder.
“Okay, okay, look, I’ll just go tell David-”
“Oh it’s
David now is it?”
Dean ignored him “-that we’ve been suddenly reassigned and someone else will be here in 2 hours...possibly slip my number into his pocket.”
“Whatever.” Sam said shortly. He just hoped Dean would come up with a better lie than that... and that he wouldn’t really slip David his number. They both turned and Dean twisted the door handle. What they saw made them freeze in mid-step. The Davids, too busy locked in a fierce kiss, were oblivious to the fact that they were being gaped at. Dean shut the door gently and grinned at Sam. “Or not. Come on little brother, we’ve got some bones to burn.” He slung his arm around Sam’s shoulders and led him down the hall.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily. I’m withholding sex.”
“Aww, c’mon Sammy.”
“Nope, why don’t you give Clay Aiken a call?”
End
-> Sammy's infamous bitchface, which he was totally making the whole way through this fic.
-> Cook being all "back off bitch! Mine!" to Dean. Thanks to evila_elf
-> You know how Dean always assigns him and Sam's aliases according to members of his favourite mullet rock bands? Well, first person to correctly identify which band he used gets a cookie. XD
I know, I know! The supernatural/spirit element is weak, but dudes, I just wanted to write Dean hitting on Archie. XD