Live a Little
Title: Live a Little
Author: sugareey
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam/Dean, mentions of Sam/Jess and Dean/OFC
Word Count: 2,454
Summary: Going to a club is slightly different from going to a bar.
Warnings: Takes place within season one, I'd say after Hooked Man, but that's just me. And the Bonnie reference is from Nightshifter, so if you seen that episode, you'll know I'm poking at it. Oh Bonnie to your Clyde!
Disclaimer: I point my fingers to Kripke and his crew, because he is a genius. However, they own Supernatural. And sorry, but I don't own the boys either. They rule on their own.
A/N: Unbetaed, again. I should find myself a SPN beta, shouldn't I? Well this is for the AWDT prompt, "I don't want to dance." Thanks to jamie2109 and nocturnali, because this is my big comeback in like a gazillion years. And SPN was requested so here I am to save the day.
“Dude, where are we going?”
“Where do you think? After a night like this, I say we should have some fun.”
“Dean…”
“Oh, come on, Sammy! Just one night! You know, a few drinks…”
“Or girls,” added Sam, rolling his eyes as they pulled up into a filled parking lot. He frowned when he saw the club since it looked a bit dodgy, with neon signs advertising Budweiser and Help Wanted. Since when did they go to clubs? Of course, this was normal-looking club but it didn’t make sense. Dean never did normal.
Sam looked at his brother, who was grinning as he turned left into the last spot. The Impala’s soft purr suddenly stopped, leaving them to sit there in silence. Dean studied the steering wheel and looked up at him.
“Well?”
“Dean, do you even know where we are?” asked Sam, running a hand through his mop of hair.
“A club in Arizona called Pixie’s,” supplied Dean as he got out of the car, taking in his surroundings. “Don’t know who the hell picked that name, but they say it’s supposed to be one of the best. So what’s the big deal?”
“Look at it!” protested Sam, surprised they were actually hanging within the city for a night. Getting out of the car, he slammed the door before catching up with Dean. “I thought you didn’t like fancy places. Bright, flashing neon signs, lots of people…that’s not your thing.”
“This isn’t that fancy, Sammy,” replied Dean, staring straight ahead. “We’re passing through anyway, so I thought, why not check it out? At least they’ll have good booze there. Maybe a ton of girls, pole-dancing-”
“You’re making it sound like a stripper joint!”
Dean just chuckled, punching Sam playfully in the shoulder.
“You need to lighten up, Sammy. Come on.”
Sam scowled but followed Dean anyway, since there was nothing he could say to change his mind. Clubs like these were only fun for the first few times. Sam would know, because it was like that at the clubs around California. They were pretty much the same. Coming into a club like this was like being in college again. When he had friends, Jess, a degree to earn. When things were normal for him. But all of that was gone, and clearly, Dean didn’t understand why it was so wrong to be here. It reminded him of what he could have had if he never left that night. If Sam never agreed to go with Dean just for one hunt…to look for Dad. He sighed. He shouldn’t be dwelling over the past.
The music was loud like it usually was at clubs, with some kind of rap song blaring out of the speakers. Guys and girls were on the dance floor, and if Sam had a choice, he would have preferred not to watch them dance because it was that disgusting. They all might as well been fucking on the floor. Sam cringed as he squeezed by couples, grinding against each other, groping and even fondling one another. This really wasn’t all that people said it was, even though his college buddies absolutely loved this lifestyle. Personally, he thought it was overrated.
Except Jess always liked it, too, mostly for the dancing. That was usually why Sam went to the clubs anyway. He hated how rowdy people got when they were drunk, always laughing, flirting or just acting plain stupid. But he went because Jess liked to go out and have fun sometimes. It was competition for Sam, with all the guys ogling over her and showing off their winning smiles just to get into her pants. It pissed him off a lot, because Jess was supposed to be with him. But ironically, that’s what he actually learned to love. No matter where they were, Jess made sure to only pay attention to him, ignoring the guys staring at her like a piece of meat. Sam had been lucky to have such a loving girlfriend. If Jess liked clubbing though, as a way to make Sam dance dirty with her, he was willing to do it.
But he didn’t have that anymore. Sam sat at a stool near the counter, ordering a beer from the bartender while observing the crowd of people just dancing the night away. If there was one thing he missed, it was the freedom he had, living amongst the clubs, the bars and good ole’ California. To be carefree, to just be Sam. That was what Stanford gave him and…Sam shook his head, grabbing his beer from the counter. He downed at least a third of it before slamming it down. Sam felt absolutely miserable. With the memories coming back to him, how could he have fun? They were supposed looking for Dad. Why couldn’t he just go back to the damn motel and sleep in? That was usually what Sam did when Dean wanted to go out. And speaking of Dean…
Sam spotted Dean in a corner with a pretty blonde dressed in a skintight halter-top and a too-short mini skirt. Figures. They seemed to be talking animatedly, with the girl giggling as Dean whispered something in her ear. Then Dean laughed with her before wrapping an arm around her waist. Sam watched him pull her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. She giggled again, letting Dean trailing kisses down her neck. Sam abandoned his beer and pushed his way through the crowd once again. This was just ridiculous.
“You wanna take this somewhere else?” he heard Dean mutter in a low voice, watching his hand drift toward the girl’s ass. Sam couldn’t hear what she was saying but he assumed she had agreed to the proposal, because she and Dean were sneaking toward the restrooms.
“Dean!” Sam yelled over the noise, barely grabbing his brother’s shoulder to stop him.
Dean turned around and glared, giving him the infamous ‘I’m-busy-so-go-away’ look. Sam dropped his hand quickly but still held his gaze.
“We need to talk,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets anxiously. Why he even approached Dean when he could have just left, Sam had no idea. But he couldn't stand the thought of leaving Dean with that girl. Or possibly other girls, if his brother managed to get that busy tonight.
“Why?” Dean growled out, his arm still around the blonde. “I’m kinda doing something with Lucy right here. So if you don’t mind…”
Sam gritted his teeth. This wasn’t their type of place, and with Dean trying to fit in here when he stuck out like a sore thumb...they could have gone to some sketchy bar if Dean just wanted sex. Nothing had ever stopped him from doing that before. But with a college girl? No way. They didn’t need Dean to be accused of rape if he was reported to the police. Sam knew this atmosphere better than Dean did. This place was out of their league, at least for people like them.
“I’m serious. Just give me a minute…”
“Dude, go find yourself a chick. Like that one, over there. What about that pretty brunette with the martini over at that table near the window? I mean, you like those pansy type of drinks too, so go offer her another one.”
“Dean! Do you even give a shit about what I have to say?” retorted Sam, extremely irritated. Not like he knew what he wanted to say. How could Sam tell Dean he hated the way he ditched him for a one night stand? Of course, that was what Dean always did, but it never bothered him before, but right now it did, and he just wanted it to stop.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” replied Dean, letting his arm drop from Lucy. He turned to face Sam. “What the hell is this about now?”
“You’re acting immature, that’s what! So you like this place, don't you? Feeling young with a bunch of college girls, just to pick them up and-”
“Is that what’s eating at you? Huh? Because I’m just trying to live a little, after being on the damn road for so long. So if you have an issue with that-”
“You know what?” Sam interjected angrily. “Fuck you. That’s all I have to say. Have fun with Lucy.” He turned to her briefly, giving her a very strained smile.
“It was nice meeting you,” he said stiffly before stalking off.
“Sammy!”
But Sam didn’t stop as he bumped into people, struggling to get to the doors. He was really pissed off now. He didn’t need Dean to set him up, or Dean to tell him to have some fun. He didn’t need Dean at Stanford, so why did he need him now? This was complete bullshit. He was done with this business, this life. Just like he tried to convince himself only a few years ago. He was sick of being ordered around, of hunting when he could have became a fucking lawyer and actually get paid, goddamn it!
“Sam,” Dean panted out, trying to catch his breath. He grabbed for Sam's arm, his fingers clutching his shirt instead. “Sammy, don’t be like this. I would have thought you would like this kind of stuff, being a college boy. We've got all night. Why don’t you dance or something, like everyone else?”
“Well, I don’t want to dance!” Sam forced out, ripping his arm away from Dean. “And I’m not like everyone else. Neither are you. You said so yourself.”
Just like that, Sam was out of there, unaware of the shocked and almost pained expression he left behind on Dean’s face. He couldn’t care anymore. Sam let the breeze blow over his hair as he took his time to stroll away. He hated how things were now. Why did Dean think random sex would solve anything? Sex wasn’t going to wash their problems away, wash away all that they’ve seen since they were kids. It only served as a temporary bandage, to cover the wounds that would take some time to heal. But they would always have scars, and those would stay with them forever, chastising and mocking them for everything that has happened within the last twenty two years.
Suddenly, Sam felt himself being pushed against the wall. He hit it with a smack, and he could feel the bricks digging into his back through his shirt. He winced. The smell beer and sweat, along with the faint scent of cheap soap filled his nostrils. It was familiar, too familiar...
“Took you long enough,” he gasped out, trying to push Dean away but to no avail. Instead, he was slammed against the wall again, much harder this time. Sometimes, Sam forgot how strong Dean really was, despite him being a few inches shorter. After all, Dad did teach Dean well, made him into a soldier. They were both rather aggressive anyway.
“What the hell do you want from me, Sam?” Dean spat out, his hands pressing into his brother’s chest. “You said you wanted 'normal'. Well, this is normal…what more can you ask for?”
“I never said I wanted this!” Sam yelled back, feeling his resolve diminish. He didn’t know how to tell Dean what he wanted, now that he had his full attention. What could he possibly say?
He had once wanted normal, but that plan had failed. But right now, he and Dean were supposed to get on with their jobs as hunters. That was their business and what they were meant to do. That meant Sam and Dean hitting the road, going from town to town to save lives. With Dean always by his side, sometimes making fun of him, and other times taking care of him, Sam had never thought to even appreciate his brother. Dean was being Dean, and that was the only thing that hadn’t changed. That was Dean’s way of showing his love. Because without Dad, Sam was the only person he had.
“Look,” Sam started again shakily, “I just don’t get why we always have to go to places all the time. Aren’t you tired? I mean, can’t we take a night to just, you know, stay in? We could play poker, watch television, get some Chinese, and maybe even…”
“What, Sammy? Maybe even what?”
“Talk, like we used to. You know…lie down, stare at the ceiling…”
“Right next to each other?” prompted Dean stepping back to get a good look at Sam. “Share a bed, fall asleep together…”
“Just like old times,” finished Sam quietly.
They gazed at each other, both remembering the peaceful nights at Pastor Jim’s and the various motels they checked into with Dad as children. Those were nights when they were always curled up under the blankets. Sometimes they would cuddle, maybe have their arms around each other just as a safety measure. Dean would kiss Sam’s cheek as his way of saying goodnight, while Sam nuzzled his nose against his brother’s neck. A nightly routine like this was something that couldn’t be forgotten. So far, neither of them have yet.
“Sammy-”
“Dean…”
“One night,” complied Dean, putting his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “We’ll have one night, tonight, if you want.”
“Are you sure-”
“I want to.”
“You do?” asked Sam, raising his eyebrows. It has been years since they’ve actually done this, sleeping in bed together, their bodies touching…
“You want to or not?” Dean interrupted Sam’s thoughts, with a mix of sarcasm and affection in his voice. Sam hadn’t heard that tone in a while, a tone he used to hear all the time until he left. But Sam was reunited with Dean again, so hearing his brother talk to him like this made him smile. This was better than nothing.
“Yeah,” Sam simply answered, his anger completely gone.
Dean gave him a genuine smile and motioned for him to follow. They walked side by side, Dean’s arm still resting on Sam's shoulders. Sam could feel Dean’s body heat radiating against his own, good enough to warm him up on a cool night like this. They headed back to the Impala, walking almost too close to each other, and it was a wonder why his heart was beating so fast. He and Dean parted ways to get in the car and slam the doors shut. And then it was silent. It was just them again, just Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. Hell, it didn’t matter because the next thing he knew, there were lips were pressed onto his. Dean’s lips.
Dean never did this before but he was now, leaning over with his hand caressing Sam’s face. His lips were moist and soft, and this was just new. Sam thought he would have been more aggressive, like he was with all the chicks he ever hooked up with. Sam had seen some of them before, with Dean nipping at their lips, Frenching them like an animal before taking things further.
It was over before it even began, but Sam knew there was definitely something more to their relationship, something he might have denied for years. And it didn’t scare him for once, because he was sure Dean would always be with him, no matter what.
“Ready to go, Bonnie?”
“Shut up,” replied Sam, swatting Dean, his lips curving into a grin.
“What can I say?” Dean said, giving him a wink. “You’re like a chick.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Author: sugareey
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam/Dean, mentions of Sam/Jess and Dean/OFC
Word Count: 2,454
Summary: Going to a club is slightly different from going to a bar.
Warnings: Takes place within season one, I'd say after Hooked Man, but that's just me. And the Bonnie reference is from Nightshifter, so if you seen that episode, you'll know I'm poking at it. Oh Bonnie to your Clyde!
Disclaimer: I point my fingers to Kripke and his crew, because he is a genius. However, they own Supernatural. And sorry, but I don't own the boys either. They rule on their own.
A/N: Unbetaed, again. I should find myself a SPN beta, shouldn't I? Well this is for the AWDT prompt, "I don't want to dance." Thanks to jamie2109 and nocturnali, because this is my big comeback in like a gazillion years. And SPN was requested so here I am to save the day.
“Dude, where are we going?”
“Where do you think? After a night like this, I say we should have some fun.”
“Dean…”
“Oh, come on, Sammy! Just one night! You know, a few drinks…”
“Or girls,” added Sam, rolling his eyes as they pulled up into a filled parking lot. He frowned when he saw the club since it looked a bit dodgy, with neon signs advertising Budweiser and Help Wanted. Since when did they go to clubs? Of course, this was normal-looking club but it didn’t make sense. Dean never did normal.
Sam looked at his brother, who was grinning as he turned left into the last spot. The Impala’s soft purr suddenly stopped, leaving them to sit there in silence. Dean studied the steering wheel and looked up at him.
“Well?”
“Dean, do you even know where we are?” asked Sam, running a hand through his mop of hair.
“A club in Arizona called Pixie’s,” supplied Dean as he got out of the car, taking in his surroundings. “Don’t know who the hell picked that name, but they say it’s supposed to be one of the best. So what’s the big deal?”
“Look at it!” protested Sam, surprised they were actually hanging within the city for a night. Getting out of the car, he slammed the door before catching up with Dean. “I thought you didn’t like fancy places. Bright, flashing neon signs, lots of people…that’s not your thing.”
“This isn’t that fancy, Sammy,” replied Dean, staring straight ahead. “We’re passing through anyway, so I thought, why not check it out? At least they’ll have good booze there. Maybe a ton of girls, pole-dancing-”
“You’re making it sound like a stripper joint!”
Dean just chuckled, punching Sam playfully in the shoulder.
“You need to lighten up, Sammy. Come on.”
Sam scowled but followed Dean anyway, since there was nothing he could say to change his mind. Clubs like these were only fun for the first few times. Sam would know, because it was like that at the clubs around California. They were pretty much the same. Coming into a club like this was like being in college again. When he had friends, Jess, a degree to earn. When things were normal for him. But all of that was gone, and clearly, Dean didn’t understand why it was so wrong to be here. It reminded him of what he could have had if he never left that night. If Sam never agreed to go with Dean just for one hunt…to look for Dad. He sighed. He shouldn’t be dwelling over the past.
The music was loud like it usually was at clubs, with some kind of rap song blaring out of the speakers. Guys and girls were on the dance floor, and if Sam had a choice, he would have preferred not to watch them dance because it was that disgusting. They all might as well been fucking on the floor. Sam cringed as he squeezed by couples, grinding against each other, groping and even fondling one another. This really wasn’t all that people said it was, even though his college buddies absolutely loved this lifestyle. Personally, he thought it was overrated.
Except Jess always liked it, too, mostly for the dancing. That was usually why Sam went to the clubs anyway. He hated how rowdy people got when they were drunk, always laughing, flirting or just acting plain stupid. But he went because Jess liked to go out and have fun sometimes. It was competition for Sam, with all the guys ogling over her and showing off their winning smiles just to get into her pants. It pissed him off a lot, because Jess was supposed to be with him. But ironically, that’s what he actually learned to love. No matter where they were, Jess made sure to only pay attention to him, ignoring the guys staring at her like a piece of meat. Sam had been lucky to have such a loving girlfriend. If Jess liked clubbing though, as a way to make Sam dance dirty with her, he was willing to do it.
But he didn’t have that anymore. Sam sat at a stool near the counter, ordering a beer from the bartender while observing the crowd of people just dancing the night away. If there was one thing he missed, it was the freedom he had, living amongst the clubs, the bars and good ole’ California. To be carefree, to just be Sam. That was what Stanford gave him and…Sam shook his head, grabbing his beer from the counter. He downed at least a third of it before slamming it down. Sam felt absolutely miserable. With the memories coming back to him, how could he have fun? They were supposed looking for Dad. Why couldn’t he just go back to the damn motel and sleep in? That was usually what Sam did when Dean wanted to go out. And speaking of Dean…
Sam spotted Dean in a corner with a pretty blonde dressed in a skintight halter-top and a too-short mini skirt. Figures. They seemed to be talking animatedly, with the girl giggling as Dean whispered something in her ear. Then Dean laughed with her before wrapping an arm around her waist. Sam watched him pull her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. She giggled again, letting Dean trailing kisses down her neck. Sam abandoned his beer and pushed his way through the crowd once again. This was just ridiculous.
“You wanna take this somewhere else?” he heard Dean mutter in a low voice, watching his hand drift toward the girl’s ass. Sam couldn’t hear what she was saying but he assumed she had agreed to the proposal, because she and Dean were sneaking toward the restrooms.
“Dean!” Sam yelled over the noise, barely grabbing his brother’s shoulder to stop him.
Dean turned around and glared, giving him the infamous ‘I’m-busy-so-go-away’ look. Sam dropped his hand quickly but still held his gaze.
“We need to talk,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets anxiously. Why he even approached Dean when he could have just left, Sam had no idea. But he couldn't stand the thought of leaving Dean with that girl. Or possibly other girls, if his brother managed to get that busy tonight.
“Why?” Dean growled out, his arm still around the blonde. “I’m kinda doing something with Lucy right here. So if you don’t mind…”
Sam gritted his teeth. This wasn’t their type of place, and with Dean trying to fit in here when he stuck out like a sore thumb...they could have gone to some sketchy bar if Dean just wanted sex. Nothing had ever stopped him from doing that before. But with a college girl? No way. They didn’t need Dean to be accused of rape if he was reported to the police. Sam knew this atmosphere better than Dean did. This place was out of their league, at least for people like them.
“I’m serious. Just give me a minute…”
“Dude, go find yourself a chick. Like that one, over there. What about that pretty brunette with the martini over at that table near the window? I mean, you like those pansy type of drinks too, so go offer her another one.”
“Dean! Do you even give a shit about what I have to say?” retorted Sam, extremely irritated. Not like he knew what he wanted to say. How could Sam tell Dean he hated the way he ditched him for a one night stand? Of course, that was what Dean always did, but it never bothered him before, but right now it did, and he just wanted it to stop.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” replied Dean, letting his arm drop from Lucy. He turned to face Sam. “What the hell is this about now?”
“You’re acting immature, that’s what! So you like this place, don't you? Feeling young with a bunch of college girls, just to pick them up and-”
“Is that what’s eating at you? Huh? Because I’m just trying to live a little, after being on the damn road for so long. So if you have an issue with that-”
“You know what?” Sam interjected angrily. “Fuck you. That’s all I have to say. Have fun with Lucy.” He turned to her briefly, giving her a very strained smile.
“It was nice meeting you,” he said stiffly before stalking off.
“Sammy!”
But Sam didn’t stop as he bumped into people, struggling to get to the doors. He was really pissed off now. He didn’t need Dean to set him up, or Dean to tell him to have some fun. He didn’t need Dean at Stanford, so why did he need him now? This was complete bullshit. He was done with this business, this life. Just like he tried to convince himself only a few years ago. He was sick of being ordered around, of hunting when he could have became a fucking lawyer and actually get paid, goddamn it!
“Sam,” Dean panted out, trying to catch his breath. He grabbed for Sam's arm, his fingers clutching his shirt instead. “Sammy, don’t be like this. I would have thought you would like this kind of stuff, being a college boy. We've got all night. Why don’t you dance or something, like everyone else?”
“Well, I don’t want to dance!” Sam forced out, ripping his arm away from Dean. “And I’m not like everyone else. Neither are you. You said so yourself.”
Just like that, Sam was out of there, unaware of the shocked and almost pained expression he left behind on Dean’s face. He couldn’t care anymore. Sam let the breeze blow over his hair as he took his time to stroll away. He hated how things were now. Why did Dean think random sex would solve anything? Sex wasn’t going to wash their problems away, wash away all that they’ve seen since they were kids. It only served as a temporary bandage, to cover the wounds that would take some time to heal. But they would always have scars, and those would stay with them forever, chastising and mocking them for everything that has happened within the last twenty two years.
Suddenly, Sam felt himself being pushed against the wall. He hit it with a smack, and he could feel the bricks digging into his back through his shirt. He winced. The smell beer and sweat, along with the faint scent of cheap soap filled his nostrils. It was familiar, too familiar...
“Took you long enough,” he gasped out, trying to push Dean away but to no avail. Instead, he was slammed against the wall again, much harder this time. Sometimes, Sam forgot how strong Dean really was, despite him being a few inches shorter. After all, Dad did teach Dean well, made him into a soldier. They were both rather aggressive anyway.
“What the hell do you want from me, Sam?” Dean spat out, his hands pressing into his brother’s chest. “You said you wanted 'normal'. Well, this is normal…what more can you ask for?”
“I never said I wanted this!” Sam yelled back, feeling his resolve diminish. He didn’t know how to tell Dean what he wanted, now that he had his full attention. What could he possibly say?
He had once wanted normal, but that plan had failed. But right now, he and Dean were supposed to get on with their jobs as hunters. That was their business and what they were meant to do. That meant Sam and Dean hitting the road, going from town to town to save lives. With Dean always by his side, sometimes making fun of him, and other times taking care of him, Sam had never thought to even appreciate his brother. Dean was being Dean, and that was the only thing that hadn’t changed. That was Dean’s way of showing his love. Because without Dad, Sam was the only person he had.
“Look,” Sam started again shakily, “I just don’t get why we always have to go to places all the time. Aren’t you tired? I mean, can’t we take a night to just, you know, stay in? We could play poker, watch television, get some Chinese, and maybe even…”
“What, Sammy? Maybe even what?”
“Talk, like we used to. You know…lie down, stare at the ceiling…”
“Right next to each other?” prompted Dean stepping back to get a good look at Sam. “Share a bed, fall asleep together…”
“Just like old times,” finished Sam quietly.
They gazed at each other, both remembering the peaceful nights at Pastor Jim’s and the various motels they checked into with Dad as children. Those were nights when they were always curled up under the blankets. Sometimes they would cuddle, maybe have their arms around each other just as a safety measure. Dean would kiss Sam’s cheek as his way of saying goodnight, while Sam nuzzled his nose against his brother’s neck. A nightly routine like this was something that couldn’t be forgotten. So far, neither of them have yet.
“Sammy-”
“Dean…”
“One night,” complied Dean, putting his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “We’ll have one night, tonight, if you want.”
“Are you sure-”
“I want to.”
“You do?” asked Sam, raising his eyebrows. It has been years since they’ve actually done this, sleeping in bed together, their bodies touching…
“You want to or not?” Dean interrupted Sam’s thoughts, with a mix of sarcasm and affection in his voice. Sam hadn’t heard that tone in a while, a tone he used to hear all the time until he left. But Sam was reunited with Dean again, so hearing his brother talk to him like this made him smile. This was better than nothing.
“Yeah,” Sam simply answered, his anger completely gone.
Dean gave him a genuine smile and motioned for him to follow. They walked side by side, Dean’s arm still resting on Sam's shoulders. Sam could feel Dean’s body heat radiating against his own, good enough to warm him up on a cool night like this. They headed back to the Impala, walking almost too close to each other, and it was a wonder why his heart was beating so fast. He and Dean parted ways to get in the car and slam the doors shut. And then it was silent. It was just them again, just Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. Hell, it didn’t matter because the next thing he knew, there were lips were pressed onto his. Dean’s lips.
Dean never did this before but he was now, leaning over with his hand caressing Sam’s face. His lips were moist and soft, and this was just new. Sam thought he would have been more aggressive, like he was with all the chicks he ever hooked up with. Sam had seen some of them before, with Dean nipping at their lips, Frenching them like an animal before taking things further.
It was over before it even began, but Sam knew there was definitely something more to their relationship, something he might have denied for years. And it didn’t scare him for once, because he was sure Dean would always be with him, no matter what.
“Ready to go, Bonnie?”
“Shut up,” replied Sam, swatting Dean, his lips curving into a grin.
“What can I say?” Dean said, giving him a wink. “You’re like a chick.”
“Yeah, whatever.”