Kiss And TEll (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Sam watches with a frown as his brother drains his beer bottle, signals the waitress with a brief smile and points asking for another. His eyes narrow in concern, but he says nothing. It’s been this way the closer he gets to Hell – less conversation and more booze.

“What?” Dean barks.

“Dude, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asks, keeping his voice level. His puppyish expression is one of concern. One that normally makes Dean melt.

But not tonight.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean groans. “Jesus, Sam. This again? You know what’s wrong with you?” He leans back, his hands resting on the table as his mouth draws into a tight line.

Sam shakes his head sadly and exhales loudly. Not plastered, but definitely drunk. “No. But I suppose you’re gonna tell me.”

“You’re too tense,” he answers, his eyes dropping to the curve of the waitress’s ass before popping back up. “You need to get laid.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Sam answers, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Dean replies. He takes a swallow of beer, a smirk tilting the corner of his mouth up. “Bitch.”

They grow silent, Sam’s own drink abandoned and soaking the cocktail napkin beneath it. He looks at his hands. Feels his knees bounce beneath the table. He only stills when Dean catches him fidgeting.

“What about that one?” Dean asks, gesturing to a blonde on the dance floor. She’s grooving all by herself, her limbs betraying the amount she’s had to drink.

“What about her?” Sam asks.

Dean’s eyebrows lift and he leans on the table. “Do I need to draw you a picture?” he ribs. “I promise, it’s just like riding a bike, Sammy. You go over there. Dance with her. Offer to take her home and…”

“She’s totally wasted!”

“Which makes her an easy mark,” Dean nods.

“We’re not hustling her, Dean,” he answers. “I’m not taking a drunk girl to bed just because you think I’m uptight.”

Frowning, Dean takes another look around. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. Short ones, tall ones. Girls of all sizes and shapes. Must be ladies night. “There’s plenty of options, Sam. All you gotta do is pick one and work the eyes. I’m tired of lookin’ at you.” The cocky grin and swagger come back. “Besides. I’ll feel better if I know you aren’t sleeping in the car when I get lucky with Chrissy.”

“The waitress’s name is Missy,” Sam corrects.

“Dude, whatever,” he answers with a wave of his hand. “She’s totally into me.”

Sam’s eyes are wide and he sighs. “Sure she is, Dean.”

“Come on, Sam,” he prods. “Live a little. Do it for me, huh? Don’t let me die thinkin’ you’re some born again virgin.”

Sam looks around half-heartedly. “If I do this, will you promise to shut the hell up?”

Dean’s eyes dance and he takes another pull from the neck of his bottle. “Absolutely,” he answers with a shrug. “As soon as you spill your guts.”

Sam’s eyes light on a woman sitting alone at the bar. She looks a little sad. Like she feels as lonely immersed in a sea of people as he does. “What about her?” he says, making sure Dean’s eyes follow his own. “Good enough for you?”

The older brother snorts. “You don’t stand a chance with that one.”

“What makes you say that?” he asks, his eyes trailing up her legs to the hem of her dress.

“Are you kidding?” Dean answers. “Look at her. She’s every bit as uptight as you are!”

The comment makes up his mind for him. Clamping his brother on the shoulder, he offers a smile. “Don’t wait up.”

It only takes a few strides of his long legs to get to her. But he’s too late. Another man has approached her. He flinches, cursing under his breath and rolling up his shirt sleeves. He almost walks away until he catches a pleading look in her eyes.

Walking around the back of her stool, Sam rests his hand on her shoulder and leans down to brush his lips against her cheek. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly. “Sorry I’m late.”

The silken curls of her hair flirt with his wrist as she turns to look up at him. Offering a gentle smile of thanks, she leans against his chest. As though it’s the most natural thing in the world, she threads her fingers with his.

“Is this the guy from your office?” he asks. Putting his free arm around her and outstretching his hand, he adds, “Hi, I’m Sam.”

Sketchy guy is uncomfortable now. He shifts from one foot to the other, his face falling as he awkwardly shakes Sam’s hand. “I swear, man, I thought she was alone. Just offering to keep her company.”

She sighs in relief when her undesirable suitor turns tail and scurries away. Turning and really looking fully at Sam, her breath catches audibly. “Well hello, Sam,” she says, a blush staining her cheeks as she gives him a once over. After straightening the skirt of her dress nervously, she holds out her hand. “I’m Megan. Thanks for the rescue.”

He smiles as he takes her hand.