Club Soda and Whiskey
Characters: Dean x reader, Sam
Summary: Dean meets reader at a rock show.
Word Count: 3317
Warnings: Language, sex, slightly angsty
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Club Soda and Whiskey
Sipping your drink, you sit on the stool at the bar. As far as venues go, this one isn’t too bad. It smells of beer, but not in a funky, sweaty man and stale cigarette kind of way. It’s not smoky and the crowd seems cool. The band has played in far worse conditions. Like that time at that dive bar in LA. That was a night that you’d never forget. A biker gang had decided the middle of the set would be the perfect time for an all out brawl. One thing was for sure, there was never a dull moment to be had.
You fiddle with the slice of lime garnishing the rim of your glass while you watch the crowd. A tall, handsome man threads his way through the crowd. He’s rugged and sexy, broad shouldered. You notice by his gait that he’s bow-legged. He sidles up next to you at the bar and gives you a broad grin. Damn, he’s one good-looking son of a bitch. Probably a total douche, though. Most of the guys you meet in these clubs are.
Lifting a finger to the bartender, the man says smoothly, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
You stifle a giggle as the bartender replies, “You want a club soda?”
The light catches his eyes as his lips turn up into a grin. They are a brilliant shade of green. He chuckles, “Scratch that. I’ll take a whiskey.”
The bartender nods and turns to pull a bottle off the glass shelf. Tall-and-handsome turns to you, extending his hand. “Hi there, I’m Dean.”
“Hey,” you respond, taking his hand and grasping firmly. Christ, he’s strong. “I’m (Y/N).”
“Have you seen this band before?” he asks casually.
“Yeah, I’ve been to all their shows.”
“Wow, that’s dedication! I’m just in town for a few days and thought I’d catch a show. I’d never heard of them until today.”
“Well, Dean, you are in for a treat,” you say, smiling up at him. Dean looks just past your shoulder and you turn to see the hulking form behind you. It’s Clint, head of security for the band. Clint is big and looks menacing, but he’s a teddy bear at heart. Clint leans and whispers in your ear and you nod in response.
“Sorry, Dean, that’s my cue. I have to get going”
“Wait…are you with the band?” Dean asks.
“Uh, yeah…I’m the tour manager,” you reply.
You give him a wave and start to follow after Clint, before turning back to Dean. “Hey, what do you say to a backstage pass?”
“For real?” The expression on his face is like a kid in a candy store. “Man, I’d love that. But I’m here with my brother…”
“What’s his name?”
“Okay, when you find your brother, go talk to Clint. He’ll be to the left of the stage. Give him your names and he’ll bring you backstage.”