Fic: Dinner at Eight (SPN; Sam/Dean; PG13)
This is a silly little fic I wrote for parenthetical to cheer her when she was feeling down one day. Then she betaed it for me to cheer me up when I was feeling down. So all in all it's served its purpose on my end: I hope it will cheer other people up also! Even though it was a gift for her, Cal betaed and helped me choose an icon, 'cause she rocks that way <3
Title: Dinner At Eight
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, OFCs
Wordcount: 1661
Disclaimer: Fun, not profit
Beta: parenthetical: she rocks
Notes/Summary: For parenthetical, for being her <3
Hot twins, Sam! We get a chance like that, we have to take it.
Dinner at Eight
'Come on, Sammy, don't be such a killjoy.' Dean always complains about Sam pulling the "pouty little brother" trick, but when he puts his mind to it he's just as bad, and boy is he putting his mind to it.
'Why do you even want to go, Dean? It's really not your kind of thing.' Sam feigns interest in his book - a second-hand edition of Proust which he's tried and failed to enjoy reading three times now - so as not to have to meet Dean's hopeful eyes.
'Aw, come on, Sam.' Dean flips the book shut, ignoring Sam's attempt at a pissy look. 'It's good to do something classy now and then. I thought you would've been pleased - you're the one who's always bitching about living on diner food and Twinkies.'
'Remember the last time we "did something classy"?' Sam says pointedly, although he already knows he's going to give in. He hasn't got the heart to deny Dean when he's this excited about something, especially not now that they've managed to come to some sort of truce about all the other things they've been arguing about.
Dean looks very slightly chastened, then returns to his main theme. 'Yeah, but... twins. Hot twins, Sam! We get a chance like that, we have to take it.'
'Fine, but I pick my date.' Sam still doesn't like to think about the evening he spent the last time he agreed to double-date with Dean.
Dean gives him a baffled look. 'Dude, they're identical twins.'
'I pick my date,' Sam insists. It would be just like Dean to miss out the part where one twin was fresh out of high-security jail, or worse, beauty school.
'Whatever you say, princess.' Dean looks so gleeful that Sam worries for a second that there's some other big catch he isn't seeing. 'So long as we can go.'
'Yeah, we can go.' It's worth it for how happy it makes Dean, Sam thinks. He hopes he still feels that way by the end of the evening.
'Awesome!' Dean punches the air in victory. 'Thanks, Sammy.' He gives Sam a lingering kiss before swaggering off to the bathroom.
Sam smiles to himself. If what he has to do to persuade Dean to kiss him more often is double-date, then he guesses he's willing to play the game.
~*~*~
Watching Dean come out of the bathroom two hours later, attired in his nicest suit and shirt, the one that hangs off his shoulders just right, Sam's inclined to think that it's definitely worth playing the game. His only regret is that he won't get to keep his brother all to himself, because it seems like a damn shame to have some girl be the one putting her hand on the swell of Dean's ass under those thin pants.
Still, Dean really wants this, and Sam's not about to deny him. They made a pact - no one else unless we're together - and even if Sam would really rather they just went with the 'no one else' part, he doesn't expect Dean to change overnight. Plus, however much Sam wants to insist it's unnecessary, his brother's determination to experience everything before his year is up holds a strange sort of fascination.
Besides, Sam thinks when Dean introduces him to the twins, he does kind of miss tits. And wow, these are some tits being offered up for their joint admiration, full and pert and just begging to be squeezed. However much he wants his brother - and god, he wants him a lot - it is a fact that Sam does actually like girls.
'... and this is Stephanie.' Dean elbows him in the ribs and Sam comes back to himself with a start. His brother gives him a look and he realises that, true to his word, Dean's waiting for him to claim a date.
'Nice to meet you, girls.' Sam gives them both his most disarming smile and hope they just think he's a little shy. 'Why don't you sit in back with me, er, Stephanie?'
'Stephie,' she simpers, and crap, he really should have been paying attention during the introductions. He bets he's picked the Britney wannabe and left Dean with the brain surgeon.
'So... Stephie.' Sam holds the door of the Impala open for her. 'What do you do?'
'I'm a canine beauty and well-being specialist,' she says.
Nice tits, Sam thinks desperately.
'That sounds fascinating,' he says out loud.
~*~*~
'Dude, what's this?' Dean hisses, poking at something green and slimy on his plate.
'Not diner food or Twinkies,' Sam says with a straight face. Watching Dean try to cope with the exceedingly nouveau style of cookery this restaurant offers has almost been enough to make this evening worth it.
'Hey, Sammy.' Stephanie returns from the bathroom and plasters her freshly applied lipstick across his cheek.
'It's Sam,' he mutters, but she doesn't notice, just pulls her chair a little closer to him as she sits down.
'Did you miss me?' she asks brightly.
'Oh, like you wouldn't believe.' Sam forces a smile. Almost worth it.
Across the table, Stephanie's twin - Erika-with-a-k, it turns out - leans in to whisper something to Dean. Predictably, he takes advantage of the motion to put his hand on her knee and look none-too-subtly down her top.
Sam drags his attention back to his own date, who launches into yet another story about some fabulous party she and her sister went to (it turns out dog-grooming is a vocation, or something - their daddy has more than enough money to pay for their fabulous clothes and meals like this every night and just about anything else they care to ask for). He can practically feel his brain trickling out of his ears.
Doing this for Dean, he reminds himself.
~*~*~
Erika is all over Dean by the time they leave the restaurant, wrapping her arm around him and groping his ass like they're in a sleazy bar instead of the extremely expensive establishment this actually is.
'Thanks for dinner, Sam.' Stephanie's voice is right by his ear, which would have made him jump out of his skin if her hand on his ass hadn't already achieved that.
'Oh, no need to thank us,' Sam says, using the pretext of holding open the car door to dodge out of her reach. Technically, it's one Mr J. Rudess she should be thanking, anyway.
'Well, ladies, can we give you a ride home?' Dean flashes a brilliant smile and installs Erika in the front seat before Sam has a chance to call shotgun.
It makes sense, Sam reminds himself, given the whole purpose of this evening. He submits to Stephanie's attempt to work her hand up his thigh, but at the last minute he lets his own hand fall heavy in his lap, and she's not quite brazen enough to move it aside.
When Dean pulls up at the girls' apartment, he jumps out of the car to hold the door open for Erika, and glares at Sam until he does the same for Stephanie.
Erika invites them in for coffee, and Sam's just about to bite the bullet and agree when he hears Dean say, 'Naw, we gotta get back. Thanks for a lovely evening, ladies.'
Dean's in the car and restarting the engine before Sam's completely processed the implications. 'C'mon, Sammy, big day tomorrow, I'm not listening to you whine about how you're too tired to think.'
'Dean, don't you -?' Sam begins, but Dean gives him a pointed look, so he just shuts up and gets in the car.
They drive in silence for a while, and Sam reflects uncomfortably that he could have tried harder to pretend he was enjoying himself. He could have done it, for Dean.
~*~*~
Dean pulls up outside their motel and turn the engine off. He sits motionless for a second, and Sam's just opening his mouth to apologise for the way the evening's gone when his brother says abruptly, 'Sorry, Sam. Just... that shit's really not my scene, you know?'
Sam laughs out loud, caught by surprise. 'Not your scene?'
Dean shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 'Yeah, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to have... you know. College boy stuff. Nice restaurants, something classy, all that shit.'
Sam stares. 'Dean, what we did tonight, that wasn't - ' He's about to say That wasn't what people did at college, and then he realises just how that'll sound to Dean, throwing it back in his face when he was (apparently) trying to do something nice for Sam. 'I thought you wanted to fuck a girl,' he says instead.
'I thought I did,' Dean says. He flushes a little, not quite meeting Sam's eye. 'But... I guess I'm kind of used to you.'
'Used to me. Right,' Sam repeats, and then it sinks in what Dean's really saying, and he feels a smile start to grow on his face, stretching his mouth so wide it almost hurts. 'I guess I'm used to you, too, jerk,' he says, and leans in to kiss his brother, soft press of lips giving way to something harder and more urgent as Dean moans in response and curls one hand around the back of Sam's neck.
They finally break apart, flushed and panting, and Dean's grin is as bright as the one Sam feels on his own face. Sam's seriously considering manhandling his brother up to their room to continue what they've started, but then Dean's stomach growls so loud that for a second they both look around for the monster attacking.
'Wanna go for a burger?' Sam offers.
'Hell, yeah.' Dean gives a little moan of relief, hand already on the ignition key.
Sam keeps on looking at him as the car pulls away. 'I always was more of an ass man, anyway,' he says.
Title: Dinner At Eight
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, OFCs
Wordcount: 1661
Disclaimer: Fun, not profit
Beta: parenthetical: she rocks
Notes/Summary: For parenthetical, for being her <3
Hot twins, Sam! We get a chance like that, we have to take it.
Dinner at Eight
'Come on, Sammy, don't be such a killjoy.' Dean always complains about Sam pulling the "pouty little brother" trick, but when he puts his mind to it he's just as bad, and boy is he putting his mind to it.
'Why do you even want to go, Dean? It's really not your kind of thing.' Sam feigns interest in his book - a second-hand edition of Proust which he's tried and failed to enjoy reading three times now - so as not to have to meet Dean's hopeful eyes.
'Aw, come on, Sam.' Dean flips the book shut, ignoring Sam's attempt at a pissy look. 'It's good to do something classy now and then. I thought you would've been pleased - you're the one who's always bitching about living on diner food and Twinkies.'
'Remember the last time we "did something classy"?' Sam says pointedly, although he already knows he's going to give in. He hasn't got the heart to deny Dean when he's this excited about something, especially not now that they've managed to come to some sort of truce about all the other things they've been arguing about.
Dean looks very slightly chastened, then returns to his main theme. 'Yeah, but... twins. Hot twins, Sam! We get a chance like that, we have to take it.'
'Fine, but I pick my date.' Sam still doesn't like to think about the evening he spent the last time he agreed to double-date with Dean.
Dean gives him a baffled look. 'Dude, they're identical twins.'
'I pick my date,' Sam insists. It would be just like Dean to miss out the part where one twin was fresh out of high-security jail, or worse, beauty school.
'Whatever you say, princess.' Dean looks so gleeful that Sam worries for a second that there's some other big catch he isn't seeing. 'So long as we can go.'
'Yeah, we can go.' It's worth it for how happy it makes Dean, Sam thinks. He hopes he still feels that way by the end of the evening.
'Awesome!' Dean punches the air in victory. 'Thanks, Sammy.' He gives Sam a lingering kiss before swaggering off to the bathroom.
Sam smiles to himself. If what he has to do to persuade Dean to kiss him more often is double-date, then he guesses he's willing to play the game.
~*~*~
Watching Dean come out of the bathroom two hours later, attired in his nicest suit and shirt, the one that hangs off his shoulders just right, Sam's inclined to think that it's definitely worth playing the game. His only regret is that he won't get to keep his brother all to himself, because it seems like a damn shame to have some girl be the one putting her hand on the swell of Dean's ass under those thin pants.
Still, Dean really wants this, and Sam's not about to deny him. They made a pact - no one else unless we're together - and even if Sam would really rather they just went with the 'no one else' part, he doesn't expect Dean to change overnight. Plus, however much Sam wants to insist it's unnecessary, his brother's determination to experience everything before his year is up holds a strange sort of fascination.
Besides, Sam thinks when Dean introduces him to the twins, he does kind of miss tits. And wow, these are some tits being offered up for their joint admiration, full and pert and just begging to be squeezed. However much he wants his brother - and god, he wants him a lot - it is a fact that Sam does actually like girls.
'... and this is Stephanie.' Dean elbows him in the ribs and Sam comes back to himself with a start. His brother gives him a look and he realises that, true to his word, Dean's waiting for him to claim a date.
'Nice to meet you, girls.' Sam gives them both his most disarming smile and hope they just think he's a little shy. 'Why don't you sit in back with me, er, Stephanie?'
'Stephie,' she simpers, and crap, he really should have been paying attention during the introductions. He bets he's picked the Britney wannabe and left Dean with the brain surgeon.
'So... Stephie.' Sam holds the door of the Impala open for her. 'What do you do?'
'I'm a canine beauty and well-being specialist,' she says.
Nice tits, Sam thinks desperately.
'That sounds fascinating,' he says out loud.
~*~*~
'Dude, what's this?' Dean hisses, poking at something green and slimy on his plate.
'Not diner food or Twinkies,' Sam says with a straight face. Watching Dean try to cope with the exceedingly nouveau style of cookery this restaurant offers has almost been enough to make this evening worth it.
'Hey, Sammy.' Stephanie returns from the bathroom and plasters her freshly applied lipstick across his cheek.
'It's Sam,' he mutters, but she doesn't notice, just pulls her chair a little closer to him as she sits down.
'Did you miss me?' she asks brightly.
'Oh, like you wouldn't believe.' Sam forces a smile. Almost worth it.
Across the table, Stephanie's twin - Erika-with-a-k, it turns out - leans in to whisper something to Dean. Predictably, he takes advantage of the motion to put his hand on her knee and look none-too-subtly down her top.
Sam drags his attention back to his own date, who launches into yet another story about some fabulous party she and her sister went to (it turns out dog-grooming is a vocation, or something - their daddy has more than enough money to pay for their fabulous clothes and meals like this every night and just about anything else they care to ask for). He can practically feel his brain trickling out of his ears.
Doing this for Dean, he reminds himself.
~*~*~
Erika is all over Dean by the time they leave the restaurant, wrapping her arm around him and groping his ass like they're in a sleazy bar instead of the extremely expensive establishment this actually is.
'Thanks for dinner, Sam.' Stephanie's voice is right by his ear, which would have made him jump out of his skin if her hand on his ass hadn't already achieved that.
'Oh, no need to thank us,' Sam says, using the pretext of holding open the car door to dodge out of her reach. Technically, it's one Mr J. Rudess she should be thanking, anyway.
'Well, ladies, can we give you a ride home?' Dean flashes a brilliant smile and installs Erika in the front seat before Sam has a chance to call shotgun.
It makes sense, Sam reminds himself, given the whole purpose of this evening. He submits to Stephanie's attempt to work her hand up his thigh, but at the last minute he lets his own hand fall heavy in his lap, and she's not quite brazen enough to move it aside.
When Dean pulls up at the girls' apartment, he jumps out of the car to hold the door open for Erika, and glares at Sam until he does the same for Stephanie.
Erika invites them in for coffee, and Sam's just about to bite the bullet and agree when he hears Dean say, 'Naw, we gotta get back. Thanks for a lovely evening, ladies.'
Dean's in the car and restarting the engine before Sam's completely processed the implications. 'C'mon, Sammy, big day tomorrow, I'm not listening to you whine about how you're too tired to think.'
'Dean, don't you -?' Sam begins, but Dean gives him a pointed look, so he just shuts up and gets in the car.
They drive in silence for a while, and Sam reflects uncomfortably that he could have tried harder to pretend he was enjoying himself. He could have done it, for Dean.
~*~*~
Dean pulls up outside their motel and turn the engine off. He sits motionless for a second, and Sam's just opening his mouth to apologise for the way the evening's gone when his brother says abruptly, 'Sorry, Sam. Just... that shit's really not my scene, you know?'
Sam laughs out loud, caught by surprise. 'Not your scene?'
Dean shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 'Yeah, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to have... you know. College boy stuff. Nice restaurants, something classy, all that shit.'
Sam stares. 'Dean, what we did tonight, that wasn't - ' He's about to say That wasn't what people did at college, and then he realises just how that'll sound to Dean, throwing it back in his face when he was (apparently) trying to do something nice for Sam. 'I thought you wanted to fuck a girl,' he says instead.
'I thought I did,' Dean says. He flushes a little, not quite meeting Sam's eye. 'But... I guess I'm kind of used to you.'
'Used to me. Right,' Sam repeats, and then it sinks in what Dean's really saying, and he feels a smile start to grow on his face, stretching his mouth so wide it almost hurts. 'I guess I'm used to you, too, jerk,' he says, and leans in to kiss his brother, soft press of lips giving way to something harder and more urgent as Dean moans in response and curls one hand around the back of Sam's neck.
They finally break apart, flushed and panting, and Dean's grin is as bright as the one Sam feels on his own face. Sam's seriously considering manhandling his brother up to their room to continue what they've started, but then Dean's stomach growls so loud that for a second they both look around for the monster attacking.
'Wanna go for a burger?' Sam offers.
'Hell, yeah.' Dean gives a little moan of relief, hand already on the ignition key.
Sam keeps on looking at him as the car pulls away. 'I always was more of an ass man, anyway,' he says.