|Sam Winchester (bitch____) wrote,|
@ 2008-06-09 18:01:00
|Entry tags:||dean winchester, sam winchester|
Dean takes Sam out for a night of wild, shameless fun ( fanfic )
[ I bought a 'Now That's What I Call Classic Rock!' CD, and it had the song "Bad to the Bone" on it. For some reason, it inspired this scene. }
"Dean, what are we doing here?" An uneasy glance was cast about the interior of the room as he surveyed the people inside. Definitely not the caliber he was used to. It's not that he was passing judgement, or anything like that. He just felt uncomfortable in places like this. Dean knew it, too. So this had better be case-related, because if it wasn't, Sam was going to be making a quick break for the door. This place was loud, crowded, and there was way too much skin baring for his taste, thanks.
"Rumor has it they serve up a mean plate of buffalo wings and potato skins here. Wanted to see if the rumors were true." How could you top that? Other than a big, juicy cheeseburger and a slice of pie, that is. But they could get to that later. Now that his deal had been broken, his appetite for life had come back - especially his appetite for food. So why stand around debating about whether to try the buffalo wings or potato skins? Just get both! They kinda went hand in hand anyway, right? Chicken, potatoes ... oh, forget it. Who cares? He was getting both.
"Does this place even have food?" Sam asked with a skeptical raise of the brow.
'It's a club, Sam. Of course it has food," he responded, as if his brother had just asked the stupidest question in the world.
"It's a strip club. No one comes here to eat." And he didn't believe for a second that they were only there for the food, either.
"Apparently I do." Yeah, right. For the food. Ha! Although he was going to try out the menu while he was here. - He dragged his attention away from one of the 'working girls' to sneak a peek at Sam, and couldn't help but crack a smile when he saw the bewildered look on his younger brother's face. Guy really needed to get out more ... have a little fun. Perhaps tonight they could remedy that, and Dean could get a little something out of it too ( or a lot, depending ). It was a win/win, really. This joint just screamed his kind of place: booze, babes, and bountiful food.
"Dude, we're supposed to be looking into the case Bobby sent us." He could tell the longer they stood transfixed in this one spot, the more enamored Dean became with settling in for the night. And seeing as how he didn't want to endure hours of this, he tried to shift their focus.
"We're taking the night off. Bobby would understand." Okay, maybe he wouldn't. But he didn't know, and how did that saying go: what you don't know can't hurt you? In this one instance, that was true. Besides, they'd earned a break; times had been tremendously tough lately. He was just asking for one night, here. Surely that wasn't demanding too much. "Come on, man. It's your birthday! Consider this my treat. Just sit back and enjoy the show." As if this was really for Sam. Though in a way, it was. He had mixed motives on this one. But it was a good excuse - cause to celebrate, and all that. So, let the celebration begin!
He'd already spotted an empty table near the front, close to the stage. Of course that's the one he had his eye on when he started forward. That is until he realized his brother wasn't behind him. After turning and doubling back, he'd latch on to Sam's arm and start to drag him in the direction he'd been previously heading. What?! If he was going to stand there and pout like a little kid, he was going to be treated like one. It was time for Sammy to become a man, and this was all part of the process: the enjoyable part, too. So he was going to stick around and learn a thing or two, like it or not.
With no other choice, Sam trailed after Dean with a heavy sigh and an eye roll. Sometimes his brother could be so immature.
Sam kept his head lowered most of the time, doing his absolute best not to let his occasional wandering eye linger on the practically naked women that pranced around the stage for very long. Every time he stared longer than he intended to, he felt ashamed of himself. This was a degrading form of entertainment. Had to be. He couldn't fathom how anyone would want to do this sort of thing for a living. They probably just desperately needed the money. Yeah. Even in a place like this, he found a way to sympathize with others.
Dean, on the other hand, had no problem with looking ... a lot. Let's just say he was all for life's cheap thrills. In his expert opinion, physical attraction ( and sexual desire ) was a wonderful thing. No need for all that deep, sappy, emotional stuff. This was much better. No commitment talk to bring down the mood. Besides, if these luscious ladies didn't want to be here, they wouldn't be. But boy was he glad they were.
One in particular had his eye at the moment: one that'd wriggled that beautiful body of hers around on stage about a half hour ago. Here he'd thought she'd slipped away. Looks like this was his lucky night! And Sammy's, once he found out what Dean had in store for him.
After a brief clearing of the throat, he'd attempt to get her attention ( along with about a half a dozen other guys, but he could be patient this time around if it meant getting the girl in the end ). "Excuse me." Score. She'd heard him, and she didn't appear to be booking it in the opposite direction. That was a good sign. When she started to head their way, he put on his most charming smile as he ushered her over with an inviting gesture of the hand - though the action wasn't really necessary. Still, he was anxious. Could you blame him? I mean, look at her. "Hi there." He professed smoothly once she'd sidled up next to him.
Random tidbit of information: for someone who'd been so boldly strutting her stuff about the place all night long, she was certainly soft-spoken. Huh. Go figure. A girl that looked like that couldn't possibly be shy. Inevitably he decided that this chick was just full of surprises, and he liked that. "Don't be shy. I don't bite, promise." He gave her a wink before cutting his eyes over to Sam, though they didn't stay there for very long. Hello, hot babe. Sorry Sammy, but since there was no eminent danger to watch out for, he was wrapped up in 'miss thang' over here - who was smoking, by the way. "I really enjoyed your little routine earlier. Any chance you do private shows?"
Sam groaned before pushing his chair back, followed by a frustrated shake of the head. It was clear that he was disgusted at Dean's complete lack of tact. He was ashamed to even be seated at the same table as his brother - not that he was all that thrilled about being here, to begin with. This just didn't help any. "I'll be back," he muttered as he stood.
That was enough to pry his eyes away from the insanely attractive member of the female persuasion momentarily. "Where you going?" Hands out-stretched by his sides in a questioning manner, as he canted his head to casually examine his little brother who still seemed completely out of his element. Surely he wasn't thinking about leaving, because that was most definitely not happening. The night was young! And the party hadn't even gotten started.
"I'll be back," he repeated flatly. This time his explanation was accompanied by a stern glare. As if he was going to announce that he was going to the bathroom in front of a lady - as used to vulgarity or bluntness as she might be. It just wasn't his style. So leaving it at that, he turned and began maneuvering his way through the crowd as he headed in the direction of the restrooms.
A deep chuckle resonated from the back of his throat. "You'll have to excuse, Sammy. He's a little shy - especially around the ladies. Doesn't know how to express himself, is all. That's where I come in. See, he's my little brother. Well, not so little anymore, but that's beside the point. Today's his birthday, and I thought ... well, I was wondering whether I could maybe get a little something special for him." He'd already delved into his pocket for his wallet and withdrew a twenty. He always found that when you dangled cash, people were far more likely to agree to whatever it is you wanted from them. Though just so she didn't get the wrong idea, he quickly threw in a question that would make his intentions ( that might've came out sounding shadier than they really were ) clear. "Some of you girls give lap dances right? If the price is right, of course." Of course. It was always about the money.
When she gave him the answer he'd been hoping for, his smile broadened. "I'd like to make a request."
While his brother was off hiding out in the bathroom, he'd made the most of his time. And by 'making the most of it,' he meant that he'd left his previous position and had taken to hanging out at the edge of the stage. You know, so he could get a closer look. Security wasn't all that tight up in here, and besides! He hadn't done anything - though it was so tempting to reach up and grab that pretty little thing bumping and grinding her way around in front of him just a mere few feet away. But this was Dean, on his best behavior - mainly 'cause he didn't want to get kicked out on harassment charges. So he didn't see what Sam was so grumpy about. From where he was standing, everything was looking good: very good.
Once the dance number was over, he re-took his seat and ordered the piles of food he'd purposefully procrastinated getting. He'd decided to start out with a few drinks - to allow himself some time to soak in the atmosphere, if you know what I mean. So maybe saying he'd come here for the food was a tiny white lie. But he was going to eat, so no harm, no foul. Though old habits were hard to break! Case in point: after he ordered himself up a plate ( or two, actually ) of grub, another gorgeous goddess caught his eye - and he couldn't help but give a little whistle to let her know just how well she worked it.
That's it. This had to be Heaven. 'Cause it didn't get any better than this.
Sam had been gone at least a good fifteen minutes ( having stepped outside for some air after his brief bathroom trip ), so he was shocked ( and slightly appalled ) that when he returned to the table, Dean had another girl ... on his lap. Eyes came to a brief close as he sighed, his pace slowing as he did so. This was one of those times when having Dean for a brother wasn't so great. However, this one suspiciously slid off and walked away once Sam reached the table. That was slightly odd. Had he offended her in some way? A frown settled its way across his face, although his eyes strayed on her retreating figure far longer than it should've. He was still a guy, after all: not a complete shame to his kind, ashamedly.
"I think you have a little drool." At least he should've, with the way he was panting over that girl. "Can we go now?" Even though the question was asked, he had a feeling he already knew the answer to that - unfortunately.
Was he drooling? Certainly not! There was no dignity in that - but he was close. Yes siree. But could you really blame him? "Don't be such an ole' fuddy duddy. Nobody likes a stick in the mud. Sit down." One brow was raised expectantly when Sam just kind of stared at him. Was he going to have to shove his brother back down in that seat? 'Cause he so totally would if that's what it took. Fortunately, didn't look like that was going to be necessary. He'd settled back down in his chair. Well, good. This certainly made things easier.
Ooooh, food! He thanked the sexy server that brought it before diving right in, stuffing his mouth full of potato skins first, then taking a swig of beer to chase it down, before moving on to chomping down on a chicken wing. Who said the best things in life were free? 'Cause he whole-heartedly disagreed. This night was beginning to cost him a fortune, what with all the tipping and the tab he was building up. But who cares! They didn't do this nearly often enough to worry about it. "Mmmm, so good."
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Dean. It's gross." Actually 'gross' could be used to describe the unghastly sight of his brother cramming down ridiculous amounts of food anytime. Sorta made whoever was with him lose their appetite - not that he ever had much of one, anyway. "What are we really doing here?" He finally asked. Surely this wasn't it.
After swallowing down the mass bulk of partially chewed food he'd had in his mouth when the question had been asked, he gave Sam an innocent look. "I already told you," he stated matter of factly. But apparently he was going to have to tell him again. So after swiftly grabbing up his bottle of beer, he raised it and waited for his brother to do the same. "Happy birthday, Sammy." There was a quick 'clink' of drinks, before he guzzled some of it down.
He'd been reluctant about believing that was the reason, but he toasted anyway. Although he wasn't buying that there wasn't something more to it than that. "What's with the sudden burst of birthday cheer?" He asked, suspiciously.
"Relax! Can't I just do something nice for you every once in awhile without you getting ants in your pants?" If his mood had been different, he might've been offended by that little interrogation which sounded pretty accusatory to him. But tonight? Nah. He was just being Sam - who'd perfected the art of being a true, blue downer.
He'd gone back to nibbling on his food when the announcer took the stage ( they had an announcer? huh ) and said that they had a 'special performance' ahead. Dean, of course, knew what was coming, but Sam ... poor guy had no idea. Not until the spotlight had zeroed in on his seated form which seemed to shrink down more and more as he realized what was going on. Of course Dean hadn't used their real names, so the light was needed to locate the lucky lad that got to join the next girl on the stage. - Oh the look on Sammy's face: priceless. So priceless, in fact, that he couldn't restrain himself from sneakily snapping a shot of it after rummaging around in his pocket for his phone. Mission accomplished. Once that was done, he'd reach across the table and punch Sam lightly in the upper arm. "Well, go on. Get up there. You don't want to hurt her feelings, do you? Huh? Huh?" He canted his head to the side as he not-so-subtly shifted his gaze from Sam, to the girl on the sidelines, waiting, back to his brother.
He hadn't realized how much worse this could get till this very moment. On-stage. With her? So that's why she'd disappeared so quickly earlier. She and Dean had been plotting. But if either of them thought he was going to go up there, they had another thing coming. He knew full well how it would all play out, and there was no way he was going to let some stranger wallow all over him in front of a room full of people ... as drunk and unphased by it all as they might be. That is, until Dean had to go and bring up the 'hurt feelings' thing. No matter what level of class they were working with here, he didn't ever like being intentionally rude. And if he didn't go, not only would he never hear the end of it, but he'd have to live in constant fear of what his brother would do as a form of payback for his stubbornness tonight. Maybe something even worse. So after one last uncomfortable shift, he'd stand - though he didn't head for the stage until after he'd shot a harsh glare in Dean's direction. "I'm going to kill you for this." Of course he didn't mean it, but he was pretty irked. He didn't like being put on the spot, and he wasn't a fan of public humiliation - though you think he'd be used to it by now.
Did he care Sam was mad? Not in the least. This would be one birthday he'd never forget, and Dean sincerely believed he'd have a good time - not that he'd ever admit it. No. He'd huff and puff around all night long, giving him the silent treatment because of how 'cruel' he'd been. And you know what? He was completely okay with that. It was worth every minute of this. Watching his kid brother practically strapped down to a chair by super-hot chick's body was .... okay, he was really wishing he was the one up there right now, but he was getting a real kick out of watching Sammy awkwardly waving his hands around, trying not touch her in any inappropriate places. His efforts were pretty much a waste of time, seeing as how that was kind of the point. Never would a girl literally throw herself at you, except for in places like this. Why do you think Dean liked frequenting them so often? The thrill of the chase was ... well, thrilling. But sometimes after a hard day ( or night's ) work, he just wanted an easy catch.
He waved one of the waitresses over and asked for a to-go box, feeling that he'd need one soon since the song was drawing to a close. That meant their time here was almost over with too, which was a crying shame. But all good things must come to an end. Though he wasn't really all that crushed; they could always come back - or he could. He had a feeling he'd never get Sam back in this joint ever again.
What was going through Sam's mind, you ask? This had to be the most humiliating experience of his entire life. He didn't know what to do ( or not to do ). He'd never been in a situation like this before ( thank God ). He was torn between just giving into the moment and letting her feel as desirable as she was ( even though he was trying not to focus on that ), or attempting to remain a gentleman. Although was that really even an option at this point? Her hands were touching places very few women had gone before, and to say that it was 'slightly awkward' was the biggest understatement of the year. Dignity? What dignity? He no longer had any, and he was pretty sure that she was feeling the same - though it didn't show. She seemed all into it. How did she do it? How did it not bother her to be touching all over a perfect stranger? In a way, he envied that: the way some people could adjust to any given situation and be just fine with it. On the other hand, it was all a part of who he was: lacking that skill.
A helpless glance was cast to Dean once or twice, only to find him grinning from ear to ear. Was he laughing? Looked like it. What a jerk.
Sam was so thankful when the music slowed, signaling that it was over. Finally. He could feel his heart pounding so much that he could've sworn it was about to leap right out of his chest, and a thin line of perspiration had formed across his brow. He needed to get out of there, and fast, before she got the wrong impression. Which was really the right impression, but ... this was just so wrong on so many levels. He could still feel her hands roaming his body and it ... Go, Sam. Go. He stood abruptly once he was 'freed,' and stammered, "Thanks." Wait. Did he really just thank her? Yes, he did - and then he was gone. He'd already reached the table where his brother sat, reclined back in his seat looking quite proud of himself. "We're leaving," he huffed, before briskly heading for the door - this time planning to make a permanent exit. Air. He needed air. Cold air. And maybe a cold shower, too.
He couldn't help but get in one last laugh at his brother's expense, but he didn't get the opportunity to say anything else because Sam was out of there! Wow. The big guy could really move when he needed to make a quick getaway. Oh well. The night hadn't been a total waste. In fact, it'd been all he'd envisioned it to be, and more. So he was perfectly content with tossing the remainder of his food into the to-go box he'd been brought and paying for everything.
He was about halfway to the door when the brunette bombshell that he'd collaborated with earlier took him by surprise by grabbing his arm and extending a ripped piece of paper with a number scribbled on it. Her number. Looks like this night was only going to get better. "What time do you get out of this place?" Once she gave him her answer, he'd lean in and give her a quick peck on the lips ... as he let his hand wander a little south of her waist. He'd been waiting a long time to do that, although he'd probably get plenty of chances to do it later. Since that was all squared away, he drew back, all chipper and stuff. "So I'll swing by here around 12:30. What do you say?" When she nodded in agreement and gave him a seductive wink and hip thrust, he'd reply enthusiastically, "See you then, gorgeous." Then she turned and headed back to do her thing ... leaving Dean with that big stupid grin on his face that just screamed: 'i'm getting laid tonight.'