Assassination's note: I suppose I could say this one's more T+ (16+) than anything, there's cursing and stuff. All that jazz. Along with a suggestive drink name that I'm a little reluctant to reveal - I mean...it's not that bad, but since fanfiction has become more stern with its rules and stuff...well, I guess I'll just say this then: pick whatever dirty drink name you want! *throws confetti*

Don't drink That

Dean didn't get what this asshole's problem was, and he wasn't just saying it because he didn't like the guy. No. Since the moment his brother and he walked into the bar this guy has been eying Sam like he was a slab of meat. Prime and cooked to perfection - something like that. Point was: the elder Winchester's hackles were raised by this.

It was just flat-out irritating how this random bloke just thinks he can get away with what he's doing. Normally, he'd ignore this kind of thing. After all, Sam had this air about him that drew people in, but the staring was anything but discreet. The man was making it plain obvious his sights were somewhere they shouldn't be -

An irritated huff of, "Dean." caught his attention.

Returning his attention to the younger, Dean offered up a smile once he noticed the scowl tossed in his direction. The twenty-six year old didn't even bother trying to make Sam believe he was really listening. Instead he reached over to tap the sheets within the brunet's grasp, his grin growing. "You have my undivided attention, Sammy."

As he said this in 'that' kind of tone, he cast a glance to the snob at the bar. Oh, the look he saw was just priceless.

Sam, however, had returned his attention back down on the papers in his hands. "As I was saying..." he continued, oblivious to his brother's antics. Said antics being pissing some random patron off. "The autopsy showed that the woman's injuries weren't caused by any kind of animal they could think of." On and on he went, shuffling through the small stack as his hazel eyes ran over the text and picture of the autopsy.

Crossing his arms, Dean rested them atop the table, leaning forth slightly. Listening but also keeping an eye on the guy across the room.

"- but they did find fur under her nails."

"So we're dealing with the Big Bad Wolf."

Hazel eyes rose from the text, blinking once he noticed a woman heading their way with a cocktail. Dean's eyes narrowed at it before they widened, because - holy shit - that was not a drink he was going to let Sam have. No way. No how. He wasn't even sure he wanted his brother to know what it was, half-hoping and half-not that Sam did.

Because, really, who in their right mind would send that to someone?

Forget the eyecandy standing in front of them, the elder Winchester glared at the one responsible for this drink that was now being offered to his sibling.

"From the young man over there." she informed once she set down the glass, motioning over to the bar.

Okay, so maybe the man wasn't that bad looking - but if he dared to even try and date Sam, his face would meet Dean's fist faster than he could say, 'Hi.' If Sam even swung that way.

"Um...thank you?" The tall Winchester looked perplexed, gaze dropping down to the drink. With a slight shrug, the waitress made her way to another table, most likely to get away from a tense Dean. Raising a hand, Sam reached for the glass -

"Don't drink that." Dean hissed, his shoulders tensing like the rest of him.

Sam looked at the elder with a surprised expression, his features soon turning into confusion while he pushed the cocktail aside. "I wasn't going to. What's gotten into you anyway?" He didn't even bother to complain when Dean moved it even farther away, setting it near the edge of the table and out of their sight. "Dude."

The older man huffed, nose scrunching up as he took his hand away from the cocktail. He rubbed it against his jeans in a way of indicating that he was trying to rid his hand of germs. "First that guy at the frat party, now this. Really, Sam? Are you some kind of 'guy magnet?'"

"That -" Sam bit back his comment on how Dean was probably more of a 'dude magnet' than he was. Really...has his brother not seen the looks tossed his way sometimes? "No. Okay? It's not like I'm doing it on purpose."

"Oh, so you are trying to get some?"

Clenching his jaw, the brunet's muscles in his arms flexed. Sam's scowl was back in full force, picking up the papers and reading them once more. Best to ignore Dean, who was probably jumping to conclusions and most likely one of them being that his little brother batted for both teams. Which wasn't true, not in the slightest - well...that was debatable.

Kind of.