Okay, so just imagine
that one of the Campbell cousins is getting married to some bigwig, maybe a
lawyer they saved from a vengeful spirit, and the Winchesters are off to a four
star hotel for maybe the second time in their lives.
Dean rolls his eyes
through the ceremony and leans over and makes some comment about the amount of
beading on the bodice of her dress and Sam just gives him this what the fuck, Dean, are you watching
wedding shows or something now look. Sam’s the first one to casually threaten
the groom at the reception but it doesn’t work because the groom knows about
the Winchesters, the Campbells have told him the stories and he is basically groveling
at Sam, just totally fangirling.
The band is great, a mix
of romantic ballads and old rock, the bridesmaids are plentiful and pretty and
there- look man!- an open bar: the recipe for both Winchesters getting laid
tonight. Dean’s the first brother to get out on the dance floor, he has a cut
glass of aged scotch in his hand held oover his head, the other arm wrapped
around a curvy little brunette that’s already kicked off her heels. He downs
the rest of his booze in a gulp before the Macarena so that he can really
Sam is lured onto the
floor by a willowy blonde during a cover of AC/DC’s Have A Drink on Me. She
passes him a mostly full champagne bottle and he takes a long pull end then another,
not pausing for breath or to break eye contact with his lady. She loosens his
tie two songs later, and Dean already has his tie around his head like he
thinks he is some kind of ninja.
The little brunette
laughs and bats the waiter away when he asks Dean if he wants another drink-
she squeezes the top of Dean’s thigh and purrs I’ve got other plans for him.
Dean just slings an arm
around her shoulders and manages not to slur, thank you very much, whiskey dick ain’t gonna be a problem,
sweetheart. They leave before even the bride and groom, leaving the poor
girl’s underwear in the elevator, her slick on the button for the sixth floor.
She’s trying to get the
door of her room open but Dean’s too busy trying to kiss her up against the
door, his breath tasting of alcohol and bacon wrapped shrimp and man. Finally
the keycard flashes green and they fall into the room, Dean trying to get his
pants off at the same time as her dress and then getting the pants stuck on his
shoes, but they laugh and kiss all over and finally they are both naked and
falling onto the bed. Dean hops up again and peels back the weird duvet,
muttering about hotel germs. She thinks it’s cute and yanks him into the sheets
and he’s all lazy hands and slurred compliments, sho pretty, sho soft, love your shkin.
It’s missionary and not
super athletic but it is warm and sweet and so very thorough and Dean was
right, whiskey dick is the opposite of a problem, if anything he’s lasting
longer than normal, just lazily thrusting while he sucks kisses all over her
breast abd collarbones and throat.
Sam and his blonde
manage to wait until the bride and groom leave but not by much and then they
are in the elevator and wondering about the women’s thong that’s in it. Sam had
gotten progressively handsier as the night went on, going so far as to cup her
ass under her dress on the dance floor and making it to second base more than once.
In the elevator he had her alone and her eyes were dark and by the time it
dinged to the eighth floor she had her thighs locked around his waist and his
face was down in her cleavage (she’s thankful she smeared deodorant inn there).
Getting his door open with an armful of woman is a challenge, especially since
he finished three bottles of champagne, but she helps and they make it in
Just because they do make it into the room does not mean
that they make it to the bed. No, it’s the tabletop for them, her panties
shredded, his pants opened up only enough to get out his cock. It’s fast and
it’s hard, but he helps her undress after and carries her onto the bed,
spooning around her, trying to hide his little champagne burps in her hair.
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