Fic: Pick-Up (SPN/Angel, Dean/Lindsey, PG-13)
Title: Pick-Up
Fandoms: Supernatural/Angel the Series
Pairing: Dean/Lindsey
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2250
Disclaimer: Neither of these lovely men are mine. If they were, a certain series finale would have ended quite differently for a certain blue-eyed lawyer.
Summary: Dean Winchester decides to pick up Lindsey McDonald in a small-town bar.
Author’s Notes: This takes place a shortly after Sam left for college and during Lindsey's time away from LA. It was written for kissbingo for Wild Card prompt (time: first).
Dean and John Winchester had been camped out for almost a week in a little dot-on-the-map town hunting an angry but elusive ghost. They’d had a bitch of a time tracking down the bones of the ghost in question, and by the time they’d finally finished the job, Dean had become cranky and restless and horny. Now, with the ghost finally salted and torched and his father off knocking back a few drinks, Dean figured he could finally scare up a warm-bodied chick with nice curves and long legs. Or at least one with a warm body. It had been a while since he’d gotten laid, so he wasn’t feeling particularly choosy.
But even with his standards lowered considerably, pickings were pretty slim. The town was so tiny and out-of-the-way that you could miss it if you drove over 30 miles an hour and didn’t know to look for it. Most businesses were closed up tight by 9 pm-with the notable exception of the town’s one miserable bar. It was greasy and dark and mostly deserted. As soon as he walked into the place, Dean knew he was probably going to bed alone. The only other patrons were a truck driver, a guy he recognized as the town’s sheriff, and his dad.
Letting out a breath, Dean plunked down at the bar and tried not to notice John, who was sitting at the far end of the room, nursing a glass of amber liquid. It was bad enough the damn town was cock-blocking him. He didn’t want to think about picking up a chick with the old man in his line of sight.
After he had been sitting sullenly for a few minutes, Dean noticed a newcomer enter the bar. It was a guy, maybe a few years older than Dean, and he was carrying a wrinkled roadmap in one hand. He looked out of place in the pit of a bar they were in. Even without the roadmap, Dean would’ve figured him for an out-of-towner.
As the stranger sat down, Dean took a good long look at him. The guy was definitely attractive with short brown hair, killer blue eyes, and a youthful face that was peppered with razor stubble. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans that hung off his hips just right, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made Dean think he’d look at home behind a desk somewhere. There was no denying that the man was damn good looking. And there was no denying that Dean had noticed.
When the stranger glanced up and caught his gaze, almost by reflex, Dean flashed his best “seduction from across the room” smile. The stranger arched an eyebrow, then smiled back before he busied himself with his now-unfolded road map. Chewing on his bottom lip, Dean considered the situation at hand. He’d never been with a man before, but he’d been curious about it for a while. And spending the night with a handsome man would be a lot better than going back to the hotel room and watching his dad scribble in his notebook all night.
Of course, that was assuming the stranger would even be receptive. Sure, he’d smiled back, but that was hardly a guarantee that Dean wouldn’t wind up with a fist in his face if he approached him. But he wouldn’t know unless he gave it a shot. And fuck, the worst that could happen is he could piss the guy off and wind up in the middle of a barroom brawl. If he wasn’t getting laid tonight, a good fight might help work off some of the tension.
Deciding he had nothing to lose, Dean stood up and walked brazenly over to the table where the stranger was sitting. “Hi, there,” he said as he lowered himself into a seat across from the other man. “What are you drinking?”
The stranger bit his bottom lip and gazed intently at Dean. “I just got here,” he said after a moment. “Doesn’t look like I’m drinking anything.”
Dean smiled. “Well, let’s fix that,” he said. “Beer?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Holding out his hand, Dean said, “I’m Dean, by the way.”
The stranger hesitated for a moment before he finally grasped Dean’s hand and said, “I’m Lindsey.”
Feeling a little more confident, Dean bellied up to the bar and ordered a couple of beers. When the bartender asked for his ID, he scowled and dug into his pocket for the one he was carrying with him. The irony that he was old enough to legally drink now, and he was still using a fake ID wasn’t lost on him. When he strolled back to the table, beers in hand, he found Lindsey smirking in his direction.
Lindsey took the beer from Dean’s hand and stretched back in his seat. “So how old are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at a dance with the other wide-eyed teenagers?”
“I’m twenty-two,” Dean snapped.
“I guess that makes you a grown-up,” Lindsey ran a finger along the neck of the beer bottle, then glanced back at his map.
Dean clenched his jaw and took a long swig of beer. “I’m old enough,” he said. He pointed to the map Lindsey was marking up. “So where you headed?”
“No clue. I guess I’ll know when I get there.”
“You on vacation?”
Lindsey looked up, eyeing Dean carefully. “Are you?”
Taking another drink, Dean rubbed at a smudge on the table. “So you’re not into sharing. I can appreciate that.”
Letting out a breath, Lindsey pushed his roadmap aside. “Sorry,” he said, and it sounded to Dean like he might have actually meant it. “I guess I’m just driving to drive. I’m either free of my bonds, or I’m in exile. I’m not sure which.”
“Sounds heavy.”
“You don’t know the half of it. It hasn’t been my best year.”
Dean leaned forward and whispered, “We could head back to your room, and you could tell me about it.”
Lindsey let out a raspy laugh. “Wow,” he said, choking back his amusement.
“What?”
“How about you get me another beer, and I’ll ignore the cheesy pickup line.”
Frowning, Dean trudged over to the bar and retrieved two more drinks and a bag of pretzels. What was cheesy about being direct? He knew what he wanted, and he was going after it. Cheesy, my ass, he thought to himself.
As he walked back toward the table, Dean glanced over at John, who was still drinking at the far end of the bar. He loved his dad. He really did. But since he was working on picking up his first male lover, Dean kind of wanted him to clear the hell out.
Handing Lindsey a beer and tossing the bag of pretzels onto the table, Dean plunked down in his seat. “This place is hopping tonight, isn’t it?”
Lindsey glanced around the bar. “If you’re bored, you could always grab a flashlight and head over to that old Victorian on Millbrook Street.” With a wild look in his eyes, he added, “They say it’s haunted.”
Not anymore, Dean thought to himself. Out loud, he said, “Why would I want to do that?”
“Well, it’s what all the kids around here do for fun.”
“You know what? I’m not a freaking kid.” Dean took a breath, shot a glance at the sheriff, then leaned closer to Lindsey. “I don’t need this grief, man. If you don’t wanna get lucky, I got other options.”
With a grin, Lindsey took a drink of his beer. “We’re in a flea speck town in the Middle-of-Nowhere, USA. What are your options? The truck driver who’s currently picking his teeth? The sheriff maybe? The middle-aged bartender who’s wearing way too much lipstick and smells like cigarettes?”
Dean clenched his jaw. “There are places in this town.”
“No there aren’t,” Lindsey said quietly. “I’m your only option… if you want to get lucky.”
Dean felt his breath hitch. Licking his lips, he leaned forward. “So… are we saying that might happen? Or are you screwing with my head?”
Before Lindsey had a chance to answer, Dean saw his dad climb off the bar stool and start swaying in his and Lindsey’s direction. Damn, the man had lousy timing. “Dean,” he slurred once he reached the table. “I’m gonna hit the sack. We’re rolling out of here at noon exactly. Do not be late.” He paused and gazed at Lindsey for a moment. “And don’t get into any trouble. I’m not bailing your ass out.”
Sitting up straight, Dean said, “Yes, sir.” After his dad disappeared through the door, Dean slowly turned his attention back to Lindsey, who was half-choking and half-laughing. Dean felt the heat start to rush to his face. “It’s my, uh, guy I work with.”
Grinning, Lindsey said, “He’s got a nice ass.”
Dean made a face. “Dude, he’s my dad!”
Lindsey laughed out loud, and it was a genuine, cheerful laugh. “So what? Are on a family vacation? That’s cute.”
“We work together,” Dean said, ripping open the bag of pretzels. “We do odd jobs. We’re troubleshooters.”
“Troubleshooters?”
“Yeah.” Dean shrugged. “Home repair and stuff.”
“Uh huh.” Lindsey cocked his head at Dean. “So you’re good with your hands then?”
Dean licked his lips. “I’ve been told I am.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Lindsey said, “Let me ask you a question. Why aren’t you in college somewhere?”
Dean shifted in his seat. “My brother’s more the college type. Just left a couple months ago as a matter of fact,” He took a drink, then sat the bottle down hard on the table. “I don’t have time for that crap.”
“At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter much anyway,” Lindsey said. Standing up, he motioned at Dean. “Come on.”
Trying to bite back his excitement and apprehension, Dean followed Lindsey out the door into the night air. The reality that he’d never been with a man was starting to settle over him, and he hoped he didn’t wind up make an idiot out of himself in front of Lindsey.
The motel was a short walk from the bar. Dean thought to himself how bizarre it was that a town with so little going for it still had a motel, and that there were still a fair number of cars parked in the lot. As they reached the building, a beat-up old truck caught Dean’s attention, and he stopped to run his hand along the hood.
Lindsey stopped at the door to his room and pulled out his key. Turning to Dean, he said, “Do you want fuck me or my truck?”
“This truck is yours?” He walked briskly over to Lindsey. “It’s pretty sweet. Has character.”
“Thanks.” Lindsey wrenched open the door and gestured for Dean to go in first. “You ever do this before?”
Dean bit out a laugh. “Please,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Lots of times.”
Taking his jacket off and throwing it onto a nearby chair, Lindsey cocked his head at Dean.“I’m not talking about sex in general. You ever been with a man?”
Dean folded his arms across his chest. “Well… no.”
Placing his hands on Dean’s shoulders, Lindsey smiled. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’m good.”
Lindsey moved his thumb along Dean’s cheekbone. “You ever kiss a guy?”
“No. But there’s always a first time, right?”
“Well,” Lindsey said, pushing Dean back against the door. “If this is your first time, we’d better make it good.”
Dean swallowed as Lindsey leaned forward to nuzzle his neck and pepper it with a rapid succession of kisses. Closing his eyes, he lost himself to the sensation. He looped his arms around Lindsey’s waist and pulled him closer, gingerly snaking his hand up Lindsey’s t-shirt to feel his warm, solid back.
Lindsey kissed his way from Dean’s neck to his jawline to his bottom lip. Dean let out a little moan as he felt Lindsey’s tongue gently lick open his lips. Lindsey pulled away briefly, then with a little grin, he leaned back in and pressed his lips to Dean’s. The kiss was sweet and desperate and gentle at the same time, and Dean felt himself grow lightheaded as Lindsey’s tongue probed deeper into his mouth.
When they were both breathless, Lindsey took a step back and gazed at Dean, a self-satisfied smile ghosting across his flushed face. “Well? Good first kiss?”
Dean smirked, grabbed Lindsey by the collar of his t-shirt, and covered his mouth with his own. Still dizzy from their first kiss, Dean closed his eyes and lost himself in their second.
***
When Dean opened his eyes, the sun was pouring in through the blinds. Covering his face with his arm, he rolled away from the window and found himself staring at an empty bed. Blinking, he hoisted himself up on one elbow and noticed a note sitting on the pillow. Dean stared at it, open-mouthed. The fucker had left him a note. He was gone, and he’d left a note. It wasn’t like Dean had never cut and run on a lover before. But… he was used to being the one to leave.
With a groan, Dean unfolded the scrap of yellow legal paper and read the message:
Let’s hope our first time isn’t our last time.
Chuckling to himself, Dean folded up the note and let himself drift back to sleep.
Master Fic List
***
Fandoms: Supernatural/Angel the Series
Pairing: Dean/Lindsey
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2250
Disclaimer: Neither of these lovely men are mine. If they were, a certain series finale would have ended quite differently for a certain blue-eyed lawyer.
Summary: Dean Winchester decides to pick up Lindsey McDonald in a small-town bar.
Author’s Notes: This takes place a shortly after Sam left for college and during Lindsey's time away from LA. It was written for kissbingo for Wild Card prompt (time: first).
Dean and John Winchester had been camped out for almost a week in a little dot-on-the-map town hunting an angry but elusive ghost. They’d had a bitch of a time tracking down the bones of the ghost in question, and by the time they’d finally finished the job, Dean had become cranky and restless and horny. Now, with the ghost finally salted and torched and his father off knocking back a few drinks, Dean figured he could finally scare up a warm-bodied chick with nice curves and long legs. Or at least one with a warm body. It had been a while since he’d gotten laid, so he wasn’t feeling particularly choosy.
But even with his standards lowered considerably, pickings were pretty slim. The town was so tiny and out-of-the-way that you could miss it if you drove over 30 miles an hour and didn’t know to look for it. Most businesses were closed up tight by 9 pm-with the notable exception of the town’s one miserable bar. It was greasy and dark and mostly deserted. As soon as he walked into the place, Dean knew he was probably going to bed alone. The only other patrons were a truck driver, a guy he recognized as the town’s sheriff, and his dad.
Letting out a breath, Dean plunked down at the bar and tried not to notice John, who was sitting at the far end of the room, nursing a glass of amber liquid. It was bad enough the damn town was cock-blocking him. He didn’t want to think about picking up a chick with the old man in his line of sight.
After he had been sitting sullenly for a few minutes, Dean noticed a newcomer enter the bar. It was a guy, maybe a few years older than Dean, and he was carrying a wrinkled roadmap in one hand. He looked out of place in the pit of a bar they were in. Even without the roadmap, Dean would’ve figured him for an out-of-towner.
As the stranger sat down, Dean took a good long look at him. The guy was definitely attractive with short brown hair, killer blue eyes, and a youthful face that was peppered with razor stubble. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans that hung off his hips just right, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made Dean think he’d look at home behind a desk somewhere. There was no denying that the man was damn good looking. And there was no denying that Dean had noticed.
When the stranger glanced up and caught his gaze, almost by reflex, Dean flashed his best “seduction from across the room” smile. The stranger arched an eyebrow, then smiled back before he busied himself with his now-unfolded road map. Chewing on his bottom lip, Dean considered the situation at hand. He’d never been with a man before, but he’d been curious about it for a while. And spending the night with a handsome man would be a lot better than going back to the hotel room and watching his dad scribble in his notebook all night.
Of course, that was assuming the stranger would even be receptive. Sure, he’d smiled back, but that was hardly a guarantee that Dean wouldn’t wind up with a fist in his face if he approached him. But he wouldn’t know unless he gave it a shot. And fuck, the worst that could happen is he could piss the guy off and wind up in the middle of a barroom brawl. If he wasn’t getting laid tonight, a good fight might help work off some of the tension.
Deciding he had nothing to lose, Dean stood up and walked brazenly over to the table where the stranger was sitting. “Hi, there,” he said as he lowered himself into a seat across from the other man. “What are you drinking?”
The stranger bit his bottom lip and gazed intently at Dean. “I just got here,” he said after a moment. “Doesn’t look like I’m drinking anything.”
Dean smiled. “Well, let’s fix that,” he said. “Beer?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Holding out his hand, Dean said, “I’m Dean, by the way.”
The stranger hesitated for a moment before he finally grasped Dean’s hand and said, “I’m Lindsey.”
Feeling a little more confident, Dean bellied up to the bar and ordered a couple of beers. When the bartender asked for his ID, he scowled and dug into his pocket for the one he was carrying with him. The irony that he was old enough to legally drink now, and he was still using a fake ID wasn’t lost on him. When he strolled back to the table, beers in hand, he found Lindsey smirking in his direction.
Lindsey took the beer from Dean’s hand and stretched back in his seat. “So how old are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at a dance with the other wide-eyed teenagers?”
“I’m twenty-two,” Dean snapped.
“I guess that makes you a grown-up,” Lindsey ran a finger along the neck of the beer bottle, then glanced back at his map.
Dean clenched his jaw and took a long swig of beer. “I’m old enough,” he said. He pointed to the map Lindsey was marking up. “So where you headed?”
“No clue. I guess I’ll know when I get there.”
“You on vacation?”
Lindsey looked up, eyeing Dean carefully. “Are you?”
Taking another drink, Dean rubbed at a smudge on the table. “So you’re not into sharing. I can appreciate that.”
Letting out a breath, Lindsey pushed his roadmap aside. “Sorry,” he said, and it sounded to Dean like he might have actually meant it. “I guess I’m just driving to drive. I’m either free of my bonds, or I’m in exile. I’m not sure which.”
“Sounds heavy.”
“You don’t know the half of it. It hasn’t been my best year.”
Dean leaned forward and whispered, “We could head back to your room, and you could tell me about it.”
Lindsey let out a raspy laugh. “Wow,” he said, choking back his amusement.
“What?”
“How about you get me another beer, and I’ll ignore the cheesy pickup line.”
Frowning, Dean trudged over to the bar and retrieved two more drinks and a bag of pretzels. What was cheesy about being direct? He knew what he wanted, and he was going after it. Cheesy, my ass, he thought to himself.
As he walked back toward the table, Dean glanced over at John, who was still drinking at the far end of the bar. He loved his dad. He really did. But since he was working on picking up his first male lover, Dean kind of wanted him to clear the hell out.
Handing Lindsey a beer and tossing the bag of pretzels onto the table, Dean plunked down in his seat. “This place is hopping tonight, isn’t it?”
Lindsey glanced around the bar. “If you’re bored, you could always grab a flashlight and head over to that old Victorian on Millbrook Street.” With a wild look in his eyes, he added, “They say it’s haunted.”
Not anymore, Dean thought to himself. Out loud, he said, “Why would I want to do that?”
“Well, it’s what all the kids around here do for fun.”
“You know what? I’m not a freaking kid.” Dean took a breath, shot a glance at the sheriff, then leaned closer to Lindsey. “I don’t need this grief, man. If you don’t wanna get lucky, I got other options.”
With a grin, Lindsey took a drink of his beer. “We’re in a flea speck town in the Middle-of-Nowhere, USA. What are your options? The truck driver who’s currently picking his teeth? The sheriff maybe? The middle-aged bartender who’s wearing way too much lipstick and smells like cigarettes?”
Dean clenched his jaw. “There are places in this town.”
“No there aren’t,” Lindsey said quietly. “I’m your only option… if you want to get lucky.”
Dean felt his breath hitch. Licking his lips, he leaned forward. “So… are we saying that might happen? Or are you screwing with my head?”
Before Lindsey had a chance to answer, Dean saw his dad climb off the bar stool and start swaying in his and Lindsey’s direction. Damn, the man had lousy timing. “Dean,” he slurred once he reached the table. “I’m gonna hit the sack. We’re rolling out of here at noon exactly. Do not be late.” He paused and gazed at Lindsey for a moment. “And don’t get into any trouble. I’m not bailing your ass out.”
Sitting up straight, Dean said, “Yes, sir.” After his dad disappeared through the door, Dean slowly turned his attention back to Lindsey, who was half-choking and half-laughing. Dean felt the heat start to rush to his face. “It’s my, uh, guy I work with.”
Grinning, Lindsey said, “He’s got a nice ass.”
Dean made a face. “Dude, he’s my dad!”
Lindsey laughed out loud, and it was a genuine, cheerful laugh. “So what? Are on a family vacation? That’s cute.”
“We work together,” Dean said, ripping open the bag of pretzels. “We do odd jobs. We’re troubleshooters.”
“Troubleshooters?”
“Yeah.” Dean shrugged. “Home repair and stuff.”
“Uh huh.” Lindsey cocked his head at Dean. “So you’re good with your hands then?”
Dean licked his lips. “I’ve been told I am.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Lindsey said, “Let me ask you a question. Why aren’t you in college somewhere?”
Dean shifted in his seat. “My brother’s more the college type. Just left a couple months ago as a matter of fact,” He took a drink, then sat the bottle down hard on the table. “I don’t have time for that crap.”
“At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter much anyway,” Lindsey said. Standing up, he motioned at Dean. “Come on.”
Trying to bite back his excitement and apprehension, Dean followed Lindsey out the door into the night air. The reality that he’d never been with a man was starting to settle over him, and he hoped he didn’t wind up make an idiot out of himself in front of Lindsey.
The motel was a short walk from the bar. Dean thought to himself how bizarre it was that a town with so little going for it still had a motel, and that there were still a fair number of cars parked in the lot. As they reached the building, a beat-up old truck caught Dean’s attention, and he stopped to run his hand along the hood.
Lindsey stopped at the door to his room and pulled out his key. Turning to Dean, he said, “Do you want fuck me or my truck?”
“This truck is yours?” He walked briskly over to Lindsey. “It’s pretty sweet. Has character.”
“Thanks.” Lindsey wrenched open the door and gestured for Dean to go in first. “You ever do this before?”
Dean bit out a laugh. “Please,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Lots of times.”
Taking his jacket off and throwing it onto a nearby chair, Lindsey cocked his head at Dean.“I’m not talking about sex in general. You ever been with a man?”
Dean folded his arms across his chest. “Well… no.”
Placing his hands on Dean’s shoulders, Lindsey smiled. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’m good.”
Lindsey moved his thumb along Dean’s cheekbone. “You ever kiss a guy?”
“No. But there’s always a first time, right?”
“Well,” Lindsey said, pushing Dean back against the door. “If this is your first time, we’d better make it good.”
Dean swallowed as Lindsey leaned forward to nuzzle his neck and pepper it with a rapid succession of kisses. Closing his eyes, he lost himself to the sensation. He looped his arms around Lindsey’s waist and pulled him closer, gingerly snaking his hand up Lindsey’s t-shirt to feel his warm, solid back.
Lindsey kissed his way from Dean’s neck to his jawline to his bottom lip. Dean let out a little moan as he felt Lindsey’s tongue gently lick open his lips. Lindsey pulled away briefly, then with a little grin, he leaned back in and pressed his lips to Dean’s. The kiss was sweet and desperate and gentle at the same time, and Dean felt himself grow lightheaded as Lindsey’s tongue probed deeper into his mouth.
When they were both breathless, Lindsey took a step back and gazed at Dean, a self-satisfied smile ghosting across his flushed face. “Well? Good first kiss?”
Dean smirked, grabbed Lindsey by the collar of his t-shirt, and covered his mouth with his own. Still dizzy from their first kiss, Dean closed his eyes and lost himself in their second.
***
When Dean opened his eyes, the sun was pouring in through the blinds. Covering his face with his arm, he rolled away from the window and found himself staring at an empty bed. Blinking, he hoisted himself up on one elbow and noticed a note sitting on the pillow. Dean stared at it, open-mouthed. The fucker had left him a note. He was gone, and he’d left a note. It wasn’t like Dean had never cut and run on a lover before. But… he was used to being the one to leave.
With a groan, Dean unfolded the scrap of yellow legal paper and read the message:
Let’s hope our first time isn’t our last time.
Chuckling to himself, Dean folded up the note and let himself drift back to sleep.
Master Fic List
***