A/N1: Happy Birthday to my dear friend metallidean_grl. I wish you an abundance of good things!
A/N2: The title is taken from episode 3:14 Long Distance Call where Dean tells Stewie: "Is that BustyAsianBeauties dot com? Word of advice. The platinum membership? Worth every penny."
Dean leaned against the shower wall, compelling his tight muscles to relax as scorching water pounded his back. The shower, with its supremely hot water and excellent pressure, was the best feature in this crappy motel room... the only good feature, in fact. The steaming water washed away the dirt and tension of his latest hunt, but it did little to deaden the memory. The alcohol he planned to consume later should take care of that, at least temporarily.
Dean turned off the stream as the water turned to lukewarm, feeling a twinge of guilt for using all the hot water since Sam needed the shower almost as much as he did. He wrapped the rough towel around his waist, determining to treat the kid to a good time tonight to make it up to him.
Digging up a grave is weary, dirty work at the best of times. The recent torrential rain made the task nearly impossible. They didn't give up, though. Couldn't. Kids were dying. They'd viewed the latest bodies in the morgue. In their line of work, they'd certainly seen worse, but the sight still repulsed Dean. They'd lost two more before they'd figured out exactly what was doing it. Sick bastard deserved worse than the torching they gave it. Dean shuddered and vigorously scrubbed his face and hair with another rough towel, shoving the memories and images down where he couldn't feel them anymore. Yep, it was definitely time to hit the bar.
xXx
Dean emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam wearing a frayed pair of jeans, a damp towel thrown over his shoulder. He wasn't at all surprised to find his brother perched over the tiny, rickety table, pecking away at the laptop. It figures. Such a nerd.
Sam looked up, his expression tired and probing. Dean felt exposed under his brother's scrutiny. He knew Sam worried sometimes, but since Dad's death it seemed like that's all Sam did. He was getting damn tired of Sam treating him like he would either explode or fall apart at any moment.
Dean walked past the table to retrieve a clean t-shirt from the duffel on his bed. He felt Sam's eyes on him the entire time. "Shower's all yours, stinky. Go wash up." He tossed the damp towel at Sam's head before pulling on the shirt. Sam caught it deftly and laid it over his own shoulder.
"You leave me any hot water?"
Dean turned to smile mischievously at his brother before turning back to search for a clean button-up in his duffel. Looked like it was time to do laundry again. He pulled out his red plaid shirt and sniffed thoughtfully. It would have to do.
Sam lumbered into the shower, his too-long legs brushing noisily over the faded carpet. Dean shook his head, amused at how his behemoth brother could display such grace on the hunt yet still seemed to trip over his own feet at any other time.
He heard the water turn on, followed a moment later by a girly yelp. "You jerk," Sam bellowed, drawing a hearty laugh from Dean.
The shower turned off a few minutes later. By the time Sam exited, damp and almost fully clothed, Dean had finished dressing and cleaning the mud from his boots. Sam glared at his brother but sighed when Dean merely chuckled in response.
"Hurry up, Sam. I'm hungry." Dean prodded.
Another of those friggin' emo looks from Sam. Dean felt his back stiffen even before Sam opened his mouth. "You sure you want to go out tonight? We could have something delivered, maybe find something good on pay-per-view." Sam continued putting on his shoes even as he asked to stay in, which meant he already knew the answer to his question.
"No offense, Sammy, but I like to watch those kinds of movies alone. Not exactly a group activity, you know?" Dean smirked, hoping to distract his brother from his current obsession, which seemed to be angsting over Dean.
"Dean! That's just... I really didn't need to know that!"
"What are you, five?"
"Deeean..." Sam's voice resonated with annoyance.
Dean knew that when his brother used that tone he was gearing up for a hum-dinger of a rant. Time for a different tactic. "We're going out, Sammy. Think about it... some suds, some tunes, some pool, maybe even a pretty girl or two. What could be better?" Sam still looked doubtful, so Dean wiggled his eyebrows and plastered on a playful grin. "Huh? Huh? What'd'ya say, Sammy? Wanna get jiggy with it?"
Sam sighed again, but this time Dean could tell he was suppressing a smile. Of course Sam would agree. He'd argue until his face turned blue, but in the end he'd give Dean whatever he wanted. Right now, Dean wanted a night out.
He just had one more thing to say. "And Sam, the laptop stays here."
xXx
Two orders of buffalo wings and several beers later (Sam still nursed his first, but the kid never was a big drinker), Dean pocketed a collection of the bar's little square napkins, each containing a hastily-scrawled phone number. One even had a lipstick impression on it that promised a hot night with the brunette who'd slipped it into his waistband. But Dean wasn't interested in companionship of the female variety, not tonight anyway. Tonight, he just wanted to hang out with his little brother.
Sam seemed to have other ideas, though. They'd played a few rounds of darts (what kind of a bar doesn't have a pool table?) before Sam found a newspaper some douche had left on the bar. From that point on, Sam practically ignored Dean as he examined that stupid paper like it contained the secrets to life, the universe, and everything.
"Come on, Sammy. Play me a round." Dean used the feather end of a dart to tickle his brother's face.
Sam waved him away, seeming to barely notice. "Dean, I think there's something here. Listen to this..."
"No, Sam. Just no." Sam must've heard the tiredness in Dean's voice because he shifted his focus from the paper to Dean, his eyebrows raised in question. Dean continued, "In case you haven't noticed, we're in a bar. A place specifically designed to encourage fun. You do remember fun, don't you?"
"Of course I remember fun, Dean. I just thought you'd want to have some idea where we're going next. I just..." Sam hesitated, his unfocused gaze resting unseeing on the paper on the table in front of him.
Dean recognized that brow furrow. He had a good idea what it meant. Groaning inwardly at the emo-fest he was potentially unleashing, Dean pressed his brother, "Just what?"
"I just thought we should get out of here as soon as possible. I mean, it wasn't exactly an easy hunt."
Dean snorted. "Are any of them, man?"
"Yeah, I know, but this one was... especially difficult. I just thought you'd want to leave it behind, especially since we just lost Dad."
"Sam..." Dean faltered. He rubbed a hand over his face, gathering his thoughts. "Listen, Sammy, I'm fine. Really. "
Sam pursed his lips in an expression that screamed I don't believe you. Dean tried again, leaning in closer to keep their conversation as private as possible in the noisy room. "Am I angry that Dad died? Of course! I'm pissed at him for leaving me like that. And I'm mad as hell that we couldn't save those kids. But I'm not... Sammy, I'm not gonna explode or anything. I'm dealing with it the best way I know how. You've gotta believe me about this."
Sam seemed to think it over, his eyes calculating. Dean tried to keep his expression open, granting his brother a rare peek between the chinks in his armor.
Sam nodded, apparently satisfied with what he found. "Fine, I'll play. But I hope you're not wearing your favorite clothes because I'm gonna mop the floor with you."
"Oh, bring it on, college boy."
"Let's make this interesting. If I win, you buy me a car charger for the laptop."
"So your laptop can drain my baby's battery? No way! That thing's not coming anywhere near my car."
"Then don't lose," Sam challenged.
"Fine. But if I win you buy me a platinum membership to BustyAsianBeauties dot com."
Sam considered it for a moment before nodding once. "You're on."
xXx
Sam slid the open laptop around to Dean. "There you go. You're all set up."
Dean's fingers twitched above the keys in anticipation as his eyes soaked in all the glories before him.
"Dean. Dean? Dean, don't you want to know the password?" Sam's voice broke through the happy haze.
Dean responded without taking his eyes off the screen. "Yeah, Sammy, what is it?"
"You shouldn't have any trouble remembering it. I set you up under the username Eugene McWussypants and your password is dork#1," Sam informed him with a smirk.
Dean's eyes shot up. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nope." Sam dragged the word out like he was enjoying every sound of it.
"Aw, come on! How can I enjoy myself with a name like Eugene?"
"Not my problem, Eugene. Figure it out." Sam crossed his arms across his chest, daring Dean to challenge him.
"Fine. Whatever. Just get out."
Sam scrambled to gather his things, probably wanting absolutely nothing to do with how Dean planned to occupy himself next. He had his hand on the doorknob when Dean stopped him.
"Hey Sammy... thanks."
"You're welcome, Dean."