Dean's POV
Ghost bitch put to rest? Check. Food? Half check. Hot chick number one? Check. Hot chick number two? Check. Bed made? Check. My birthday? It must be because... Two hot chicks.
Fuck, could this day get any better?
Cas sure knew how to pick 'em. They were both perfect in every way and shape. The blonde was taller and leaner. She held herself confidently, ready for action. Oh I'd give her action all right. The short one was brunette, her hair just as long as Blondies', stopping mid back. She was only a few inches shorter than Blondie, but it sure as hell made a difference. Blondie was a bit on the short side to start with, so cutting a few inches off pretty much made Shorty a midget. Shorty had a bit more curve to her, her boobs a bit more... Obvious and her ass more prominent, where Blondie was thinner, her ass almost non-existent and her tits about a cup size smaller than Shorty's. I find myself swallowing convulsively a bit thinking about being able to fit the whole thing in the palm of my hand.
I would definitely have to thank Cas as soon as I was finished with these two. Bring on the sex games and tiny undies!
"Alright ladies," I bellow, slapping my hands together and then rubbing them, the friction causing heat. "Shall we just kick Sammy out now?"
Blondie glares at me. Her green eyes as hard as steel and I can't help but get even more turned on and decide to show her by licking my lips and winking at her. Lord knew how much I loved a girl that was passionate. Meant they were just as passionate in the sheets.
"Is your brother always this disgusting and perverted?" She asks, turning her head towards Sam with anger and disgust written all over her face.
Sammy doesn't answer right away, but instead gives her a small apologetic smile. "Actually, I'm surprised it took him this long to say something to offend you guys."
I hear Shorty giggle at his response, and look over to see her staring at Sammy. Well, well, well, looks like little Sammy has an admirer.
That's okay; I was down to have Blondie all to myself. She looked more likely to handle some of my kinkier fantasies anyway.
"Pig." Blondie mumbles and rolls her eyes at me. I watch as she leans back on her elbows, the white shirt she is wearing riding up to show off a bit of her flawless, sun kissed skin and flat stomach.
If Shorty and Sammy didn't leave soon I was going to do her right in front of them.
"Not to change the subject," Shorty starts her ramble, looking between both Sam and I. "But are we always going to be staying in motels? I mean, this place is absolutely revolting. I don't think I'll be able to get an ounce of sleep thinking about who has been here and what they were doing. It's nasty. We should go somewhere classy. With a restaurant in the lounge. A bar wouldn't hurt either."
"Well we weren't exactly expecting you." I say sarcastically.
"Yeah, why exactly are you here again?" Sam asks from his spot near the door. I don't think he's moved an inch since we've walked in.
"We told you, we're your Guardians." Blondie says from her place on the bed.
"Which means...?" Sam trails off, his voice filled with confusion.
"Like I told you before," Blondie begins, sitting back up, but leaning back on her hands this time. "We're here to protect you. Nothing more, nothing less."
"And what are you trying to protect us from?" I say, almost laughing at the idea of the two girls, who couldn't be over the age of 20 and looked to weigh about 125 lbs. soaking wet, was going to protect us. It just didn't make sense.
"You never answered my question." Shorty intervenes, clearly trying to avoid the question.
"You didn't answer mine either." I quickly spit back.
"I asked you first," she says immaturely.
I scoff, "What are you, five?"
"Do I look five?"
"Dean. Enough." Sam says before I can retort again. "How old are you?"
"I'm gonna guess 21. And that's being generous." I mumble.
"Jesus fuck, I'm 22!" Shorty says defensively.
"Yes because that's such a big difference." I say sarcastically and catch her rolling her eyes at me, and diverts her attention to her brightly colored nails.
Again, the air is thick and heavy with awkward tension. We are all quiet for a few minutes, each one of us lost in thought. "Well, I'm 21." Blondie says. I bark out a laugh and shoot Shorty an "I was right, so suck it" look.
Eventually I hear the squeak of the bed and Blondie is standing up to stretch, her arms over her head, and the shirt rising once again catches my attention. I watch as she walks over to her bag, and starts rummaging through it, hoping that I might be able to catch a glimpse at the kind of underwear she wears. You can tell a lot about a person just by their choice of drawers.
"What are you doing?" Shorty asks, moving to Blondie's side.
"What does it look like? Changing. Might as well get comfortable and wear something more appropriate for tonight if we're going to be staying in this beetle infested hell hole." She replies before storming over to the bathroom door and slamming it shut.
Shit. She was a bitch.
Shorty stands there awkwardly for a moment, pursing her lips, looking back and forth between the two of us. "So..." She awkwardly bobs her head, making a weird facial expression, hoping one of us will take the bait. We both just stare at her, not sure how to respond.
"Well I think that's my que to... You know..." Shorty says, not even finishing her sentence as she opens her bag to grab her items and then rushes over to the bathroom door too. This time, the door gets shut quietly.
"What the fuck is going on and who are those two wackadoos?" I growl at Sam, jumping to my feet and taking a step towards the closed door while pointing at it.
"I have no clue." He says in almost a daze, his gaze focused on the door and his eyebrows furrowed.
I walk the two short steps it takes to reach him and snap my fingers in front of his face a few times, making him lean back and glare at me. "Focus, Sammy!"
"I am." He groans, walking over to sit on the bed next to the ones the girls had claimed. "I'm just as confused as you are and tired as all hell. It's been a long couple of days. Hell, it's been a long couple of weeks and all I want to do right now is sleep. And what the hell did they mean by 'Guardians'? Man, they don't even look like they know how to throw a punch."
I sit down next to him, bringing the tips of my fingers together, my elbows on my knees, so that my fingers formed a diamond like shape, trying to take in everything he just said.
It had been a long couple of weeks. It seemed like we were constantly on the go, looking for leads, talking to people, defeating demons, ghosts and anything else that tried to harm innocents. I felt like I hadn't slept in years and it was definitely times like this where I wish Dad was still around.
"Look. They're clearly not going to tell us anything tonight. Why don't we just let them be for now? Cas wouldn't have left them with us for no reason. Lets just sleep on it and try to talk to them in the morning." Sam continues after a short pause in conversation.
"We'll make 'em talk tonight!" I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air.
Sammy groans, and lies back on the bed. "We can't make them do anything."
I sigh. I know he's kind of right, but it still pisses me off.
After a few minute of not talking, I can tell Sam has fallen asleep by change of his breathing. I move to get up and get the extra sheets that I know are in the closet to start setting up a spot on the couch for myself. The sheets and pillow look almost as good as new, but the faded, olive green couch looks like it has definitely seen better days.
"Shit." I mumble under my breath, already feeling the soreness in my back and the stiffness along my shoulders and neck.
"You know it's not polite to swear in front of ladies." A sarcastic voice says from across the room.
I look up to see Blondie has changed into small blue and white striped shorts and a too big white shirt that reads NASCAR along her chest.
I clear my throat, trying to get the thoughts of walking the short distance to her and shoving her against the wall out of my head. Instead, ignoring her comment I say, "Dale Earnhardt Jr. or Tony Stewart?"
"Neither. Kasey Kahne all the way."
Damn, a girl that had a backbone and loved racing. Could she get any hotter?
I laugh at her, shaking my head and giving her a genuine grin before walking over to set my things down on the sofa.
"What about you, Jr. or Stewart fan?" She asks, her feet making almost no noise as she crosses the room. I watch her ass as she bends to take off the bags from their bed, before she pulls back the blanket and climbs in.
Oh how I wish I was following her in instead of her friend. Though I wouldn't be opposed to some girl on girl action.
"Well?" She asks almost impatiently.
"Neither." I grin. "Danica Patrick."
Her jaw drops and she stares at me for a moment before practically stuttering out, "You're kidding me! Of course you love the one racer I hate."
I laugh for what feels like the first time in a long time. I forgot how freeing laughing could be.
"I'm kidding. But she is pretty hot. I'm mostly a Dale Earnhardt Jr. fan though."
"Melanie! You are not talking drivers already. We just met that man for God sakes. At least try to show them that we're classy ladies for a day or two." Shorty says, walking out of the bathroom, hairbrush and dirty clothes in hand. She prances over to their shared bed and follows Blondie's lead by tucking her lower half underneath the brown and green, thin blanket.
"Sweetheart, you lost those two words altogether the moment you sat down and started eating my food." I retort, enjoying the light banter between the three of us.
Blondie let's out a cute giggle, her face turning a slight pink as she turns to looks at me.
"Whatever. I'm going to sleep now," the midget grumbles before turning over onto her side and shutting off the only light in the room. "Besides, Matt Kenseth rules any day."
I chuckle to myself, lying back on the ugly, uncomfortable couch.
I could not wait for tomorrow.
