A/N: I never drank because I'm underage, so I may get things wrong or something.
Basically this is a one-shot based on a few lines in my other stories.
Dean looked for his friends in the bar. Seth was at the bar, being shameless in his flirting with a random woman. Dean wondered if he should record it so he can tease Seth with the video later, once Seth was sober enough.
He decided to go to Roman first, because that guy can do some damage after getting a few drinks in him. Dean found Roman by the dart board, looking like some type of drunken Samoan Sasquatch as he threw darts and missed. In the morning Roman would be a hung-over Sober Samoan Sasquatch.
Dean had to go over to his friend who was creating a small panic with his dart throwing. Roman had thrown a dart and it hit Dean in the shoulder. Dean looked at the dart and pulled it out. A small wave of pain engulfed his shoulder and he stumbled into a table. Roman had seemed to realize that he threw a dart at his friend and somewhat stumbled over to him.
Roman seemed confused and gently grabbed Dean's shoulder; however all Dean could do was glare at him. "Let's go." Dean lead Roman to the bar table where Seth was still shamelessly flirting with the woman, who seemed amused judging by her smile. Dean pitied the poor woman.
Seth was looking at the ceiling and the woman looked up, confused.
"What are you looking at?" The woman asked.
Seth replied, "I'm looking for the hole that lets me know you fell from heaven."
Dean literally felt pain at that pick-up line. It could've been from the wound in his shoulder at getting a fucking dart thrown at it, he didn't know.
The woman still looked confused, "Okay?"
"Seth," Dean called to his friend. Seth looked over at Dean and then at the woman. He seemed to be debating for a few minutes. He made his choice by continuing to flirt with the woman. Dean was wounded, literally and figuratively. "Seth," he snarled out, using the threatening tone he uses when an older woman looks too interested in his fifteen year old cousin.
Seth took the hint and sadly made his way over to his friends.
Dean had to stuff Roman in the backseat of the car first. Roman still kept his hold on Dean's injured shoulder, obviously feeling guilty. Dean swatted Roman's hands away.
"Seth," He called out and noticed Seth was glaring at a flagpole.
Seth yelled the flagpole, "Hey asshole! Where are my goddamn pants?"
Dean had to look closely. "Seth! You're wearing your pants!" Dean felt the pains of a headache coming on, but it had nothing to do with Axe body spray.
Roman started pulling at Dean's shirt and shoulder, for some reason.
Dean started slapping Roman's hands away, "Stop it." Dean looked up to get Seth. Seth had wandered off and Dean wasn't sure how Seth could've left so fast.
Roman started pulling at Dean's shirt and shoulder again. Dean slapped Roman's hands away, "Stop doing that." He decided that Seth couldn't have gone that far and closed the car door. Dean rubbed his temples; he was so going to get his revenge for this, he just wasn't sure what he was going to do yet.
First he had to get Roman to the hotel, then track down Seth, go to bed, and then deal with his hung-over friends. What fun.
Dean decided that in the morning, Seth would call him if he needed something or the cops. He wasn't sure what would come first. He threw Roman onto the bed and went to look at his shoulder to make sure that it wasn't too badly injured from the dart. He deemed that the wound was okay and wasn't infected. He changed his shirt and wondered if he should waste gas trying to find where Seth went.
"Did you find Seth?" Roman asked. He still seemed drunk, but at least a bit sober.
"Not yet," Dean replied.
"How's your shoulder?" Roman asked,
"Its fine," Dean replied.
"Good," Roman said and went to sleep. Dean managed to find Roman's phone and went to charge it. An idea made its way in his head and he smiled.
"He went skinny dipping in a fountain?" Dean asked. He wasn't sure if he should be horrified or amused.
The police officer nodded and Seth glared out the cell, at least fully clothed.
Dean shook his head, "People say that I get really weird after getting a few drinks in me." He'd rather not know what he does that's weird. "Why would you do that?"
Seth just shrugged, "How should I know?"
"First you yelled at that flagpole," Dean started.
Seth had to interrupt, "I yelled at a flagpole?"
There was that impending headache feeling again and Dean rubbed his temples. He really needed something to drink, not necessarily alcohol, but something.
After about thirty minutes, Seth was already out on the bed and Dean had to awkwardly search Seth for his phone. He already had his revenge plan laid out ahead of him.
Dean had taken all the aspirin out that he could find. He had a feeling that there was some yelling that's going to happen and his friends being hung-over was going to make it more enjoyable for his revenge.
Seth did land up in a holding cell and choose a random woman over him, while Roman threw a dart at him. Did that qualify for Dean wanting revenge?
He watched Seth look like he was in pain as he listened to a voicemail. He flipped Dean off, "I hate you."
Dean nodded, "I bet you do." While his friends were passed out, he had left their mothers a nice little voicemail explaining what Seth and Roman got up to. Apparently it's bad manners for Roman to throw a dart into his friend's shoulder and it was bad that Seth had landed up in a holding cell.
"Why?" Roman asked, as he listened to his voicemail.
"That's what you get for throwing the dart at me," Dean replied. He looked at Seth and pointed at him, "That's what you get for choosing a random woman over me and trying to go skinny dipping in a fountain."
"So you called our mothers?" Seth replied.
Dean nodded, "They have a right to know what their kids get up to."
A/N: The pick up line, "I'm looking for the hole that lets me know that you fell from heaven," was an actual thing that one of my friends named Marcos jokingly said to another guy during our sophomore year in high school. For some reason that pick-up line stuck with me for two-three years.