Dean Winchester was a bartender. Yes, he got to cruise the hot chicks, but he still hated it. He barely had any time for himself. What he missed the most was spending time with his brother Sam. Now, Sam also had a job. Sam was a lawyer. Serving hot ladiesdrinks isn't as fun as you'd expect. Dean lived in a crappy condo in the middle of the city. Dean hated his job. Hated his life. All the pressure the clients and the boss put on his shoulders… it was too much for Dean to handle. Unfortunately, that was the only job he could afford and get. He didn't get a proper scholarship, unlike his little brother—he had quit everything for their family business. Everything for their father's quest. Whereas, Sam never gave up on his normal fucking life. That's where Dean screwed up real hard. When their father died, he had no one left. Sam had abandoned him, and was happily living with his wife Jessica. He had nothing—no one to live for.
That was, of course, until something completely amazing happened to him.
It happened on a casual weekend morning, when all the day-drunks usually came in. Dean's shift was almost over when he spotted a beautiful redheaded girl walk in the bar. She winked at him. obviously noticing him. He smiled at her as she sat down on a barstool, right in front of him. She was hot…extremely hot. Like–the pornstar kind of hot.
Maybe even a little more.
"Hey..." she directly said as soon as he turned to her. She was looking for a badge on his chest. "Dean," she said flirtatiously immediately after she spotted the badge. "Hot name," the strange girl winked again. Girls weren't really Dean's 'thing', but he could make an exception, right? He wasn't the flirting kind of guy, but what if he changed? That would be awesome. He surely was attractive, huh? So why not just... forget about being shy and talk to her? Flirt with her? A grin appeared on his face.
"I'm Alicia," she said with an attractive smile on her face.
"That's a–um–hot name, too," Dean blurted out.
She smirked at Dean. He looked innocent and harmless.
"What would you ant to drink, Alicia?" he asked her nervously.
"You," Alicia mouthed soundlessly, grinning wickedly.
Dean swallowed thickly, looking up at her. He was uncertain of what to do next.
Her lip curled into a smile, her head tilting to the side. She put her hand on his arm, biting her lower lip. Her curly ginger hair-locks were bumping on her shoulders as she eyed him, just like she wanted him really, really badly inside of her.
She probably did, though.
And Dean wasn't even trying! She was the one passing dirty comments and flirting around. He wasn't even returning the favor.
Since the two years he had been working in the bar, he had never got laid with a costumer. It was actually against the rules. Who cared about the rules?Why should Dean care? He wasn't a troublemaker, sure, but breaking one rule wouldn't hurt anyone, would it?
What Dean didn't know was that it might hurt a special somebody.
Although the girl wasn't there to drink, she was there to get in Dean's pants, Dean didn't care. He could make an exception this one time. Lots of girl came in and talked to him, desperate for sex. But this desperate girl was more, in some weird way she was special. She was inhumanly hot.
"Well, I guess I could..." Dean's heart pounded. "My shift's about to end, so...we could..."
Dean decided to change his attitude and behavior completely. He ignored his old self—this was his new self, now.
He was way turned on to wait another second. He gulped, and nodded. "All right, what the fuck. Let's just go." The man smiled uneasily and walked over the service counter swinging door.
"Hey, Steve!" Dean shouted to the man in the kitchen. "I'm leaving. Get your ass over here to serve the waiting clients."
The girl didn't seem to care one bit about his rudeness over his colleague.
Steve didn't answer, but did Dean give a damn? There was a beautiful, well-portioned breasted girl at his side, waiting to sleep with him, so no. Steve was his friend, of course, but the girl was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He hooked his arm in the girl's and walked to the door.
"My place or yours?" the arrogant bartender asked without a slight hint of hesitation or doubt.
"Either is fine..." Alicia whispered in his ear, giggling.
Her words echoed in Dean's brain.
"Let's go to mine, now," he grinned, walking unsteadily.
Alright, maybe he had taken a tinesybit of alcohol this morning...but whatever.
Alicia was leaning into Dean as they walked out of the bar together.
"How old are you, Dean?" she asked, touching his chest, running his hand up and down.
"Does it really matter?" he winked teasingly.
"Oh, come on," said Alicia, whiningly.
Dean rolled his eyes on the inside. "I'm thirty-six," he admitted to the girl.
She grimaced. "Oh, come on," she repeated, laughing this time. But when she saw Dean's face was totally serious and not joking, she stepped back. "Ew. Good-bye, perv."
Alicia started walking away, her hips moving.
Dean sighed. Was being thirty-six that bad? He looked young... he looked like he could be twenty. So why did the girl care?
"Oh, seriously. Just... come back..." he looked at her and he frowned. "Um...I was kidding?"
Alicia rolled her eyes. "Un-believable. I was flirting with an old man," she flipped her hair, talking to herself.
Dean snorted as he got back inside the bar. He had been impolite to his friend for nothing. Steve really deserved an apology, then.
Steve was at the bar, busy—really busy—serving clients.
"Hey, Dean," Steve waved at Dean, his hands nearly full. "A little help over here?" he smiled unsurely.
Dean exhaled loudly, walking over to his friend.
"You didn't keep that hot girl cruising you?" Steve said on a teasing tone, his piercing blue eyes narrowing with challenge.
Dean scoffed. "Yes, well... when she learned how old I actually was, she ridiculously ran off. It's like... my charm isn't as important as my age."
Steve chuckled. "That girl was a total bitch. Forget about her. You look fabulous, Dean. Age doesn't matter."
They glared at each other got something that felt like an hour to Steve. At the end, Dean smiled. "Thank you, buddy."
Great. Now he was calling him buddy. What was he thinking? Having a crush on his colleague was so stupid. He needed to tell Steve about it. It was too hard to ignore.
God, Steve's angelic baby blue eyes were just... hypnotizing.
Dean kindly and playfully hit Steve's shoulder. He didn't know what else to do.
Steve faked a smile, and looked away awkwardly. It was obvious his smile was forced.
"Ed's shift is about to start," Steve started. "do you want to get a coffee while we're both free?" he suggested.
Dean looked at his watch. For some unknown reason, his hands were shaking.
"Um, yeah..." Dean nodded nervously. "Sure."
Steve smiled uneasily at the taller man. "Good, then. Let's go now."
"My car or yours?" Dean asked the blue-eyed bartender, hoping he'd accept using the Impala.
"The Impala, obviously. It's better than the junk I have as a car," Steve scoffed.
"The Impala it is," Dean shrugged, trying not to make it look like a huge deal. He walked out of the bar besides his friend.
"You really don't talk much, do you?" Dean decided to ask as they both headed to the beautiful car parked cautiously in the deserted parking lot between the bar and a barber shop.
"Well, I'm the one who invited you for a coffee, so..." Steve trailed off.
Dean chuckled. "Relax, buddy. I was kidding," he winked.
Damn, he thought, Idouse 'buddy' a lot when it comes to talking to Steve.
Dean opened the passenger side door for Steve, politely, and walked over to the driver side. He unlocked the door as well, walking inside the beautiful collection car. Steve sat on the seat next to Dean after him, rubbing his hands together. It was quite cold, and inside the Impala, the temperature was even worse.
The coldness of the bench was freezing Steve and Dean's asses.
Dean closed his door and inserted the keys in the ignition. The car started, warm air ventilating.
"Do you like rock, Steve?" Dean carefully asked, unsure of Steve's likes and dislikes. Steve was uncertain if liking rock was a good thing or a bad thing—he didn't want to piss Dean off. If he said the wrong thing, the poor guy might hate him forever. "Erm, yes–yes, I do. Why do you ask?"
Dean shrugged innocently. "Just like that," he pressed on the 'play' button of the music player and a Kansas song started played. Steve smiled, humming lightly along. Dean smirked, pressing his elbow on the windowsill as he drove away towards the nearest local coffee shop. The car was already warmed up after a few minutes, despite the snow and the cold weather outside. The sun was slowly rising up. When they got to the café, Dean parked and stopped the car quickly. They both got out immediately. Dean smiled to himself, saying, "God, this is awkward," he complained. "you should tell me more about yourself, Steve. It's been, like... two weeks we know each other—well, youknow me. I don't know you, though."
Steve chuckled, a glum then showing on his lips. "You know everything about me. My life isn't that interesting, you know—,"
"I know nothing about you, Stevey. Family, financial situation, siblings, history..." Dean tilted his head.
"I'm a thirty-four years old man, I'm still a virgin—,"
"You're still a virgin?" Dean interrupted again.
"Yes, Dean. I'm waiting for the right person to do it with... unlike you,I?m not some sort of... man-whore. I don't sleep with everyone I make eye-contact with," Steve explained, happy Dean didn't cut him again.
"I don't sleep with everyone I make—," Dean started, a little insulted.
"No offense, of course," Steve added with a malicious smile, glad he was the one interrupting Dean this time.
Dean smirked as he locked the doors of the car. "None taken," he said as he turned around. They walked towards the coffee shop silently, and Dean was playing with the car keys.
"Oh, you didn't tell me earlier. Do you have any siblings?" Dean broke the strange silence as the two men stepped inside the café.
"I–yes. I have a brother, Gabriel," said Steve. Telling Dean the whole story would be too much, just talking about Steve's favorite brother would be absolutely fine. It wasn't like Dea was religious enough to link the name to the archangel Gabriel. But, maybe if Steve had told Dean his real name, he would have guessed. Who knows? What actually did he know about Dean? Not that much, actually. Dean was so secretive...
Steve turned his head to face Dean's, shaking himself out of his daydream. "What about you? Have a sis?" he smirked. "or a bro?"
"I've got a younger brother named Sam," Dean explained.
They found a booth and sat down, face-to-face. When the waitress arrived at Dean and Steve's table, they both ordered a coffee.