Jealousy Is A Green-Eyed Bitch
After one drink to many, you get fed up with bar skanks hitting on Sam.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader
Bars were a fact of life for most hunters. At the end of a successful hunt, you went there to celebrate a job well done. If the hunt went South, you went there to drown your sorrows and numb the pain until the next hunt.
Some nights you just wanted to hang with the guys and wallow. Tonight was one of those nights. The hunt had been a total clusterfuck from start to finish. Everything that could go wrong did, and the three of you were lucky to escape with your lives.
Sam and Dean grabbed a table while you headed to the bar to score some drinks As you stood waiting to get the bartenders attention, a blond in a red top that left little to the imagination sidled up next to you.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” she asked.
“Yeah?” you said unenthusiastically.
“I saw you come in with those two hotties. Are either of them yours?”
You gave her a quick dismissive look, “Both of them actually. I’m sleeping with both of them.”
Grabbing the bottles of beer, you walked off without a backward glance.
“What was that about?” Sam asked when you approached the table.
“Take a guess.” You said as you slid into the booth. “Yet another bar skank eying you two up. Why do you two have to be so damn good looking?”
“What did you tell her?” Dean asked curiously. “She was hot.”
You let out a sigh of irritation as you pushed Dean’s beer towards him. “I told her I was banging both of you.”
Sam choked on his beer mid swallow. You slapped him on the back a few times until he caught his breath.
“What the Hell Y/N! What crawled up your ass and died?” Dean snapped at you.
You rounded on him. “Do you have any idea how sick I am of playing wingman for you two? Every friggin’ bar we go to some chick comes up to me and wants me to introduce them or give you their number or something. It’s exhausting!”
“I think we are all on edge from the hunt. Let’s try not to jump down each other’s throats.” Sam said quietly.
“Whatever.” You said darkly, sipping your beer. “I need whiskey. You two want any? Where is the damn waitress?” There was only one waitress at the tables and they were packed. You wanted your whiskey and you wanted it NOW.
Through the smoky room you spotted a jukebox in the corner. The song that was playing currently sucked, so you decided a change was in order. “Either of you guys got some singles for the jukebox?” Sam tossed a few singles your way and you got up to change the music.
You were perusing the selections when a curvy brunette came up and started looking at songs too. “I saw those two you came in with. Damn! Especially the tall one.”
Oh for Fuck’s sake! You were used to girls throwing themselves at Dean’s feet. That was as natural as breathing. But Sam was different. Sam was YOURS. Well he really wasn’t, you just wished he was. “Sorry hon, he’s gay.” You said in the sweetest voice you could muster. Making your selections, you headed to the bar to grab some shots.
When you returned to the table, Sam and Dean weren’t alone. Dean was pressed up against a pretty strawberry blonde, whispering in her ear. The dance had begun. You already knew how this one would end.
Much to your surprise, Sam seemed engrossed in conversation with a petite redhead with an enormous rack. Totally not his type, you thought to yourself. She let out a shrill peal of laughter that was like nails on a chalkboard. You downed the three shots of whiskey you had brought to the table in rapid succession. “I’m gonna go dance.” You said to the guys, although neither seemed to be listening.
The whiskey had given you a nice buzz, and the songs you had selected were playing finally. You swayed to the music, lost in the song. You stopped when you felt a hand on your back. It was Dean, hand in hand with the girl from the table. “You leaving?” You asked. He nodded.
Looking over at the table, you saw that Sam was still talking to the redhead. Feeling your heart give a little twist in your chest, the whiskey suddenly turned sour in your stomach. You made your way to the bathroom, praying there wasn’t a line for once. By some miracle there wasn’t. Sitting in the stall, you cried quietly. Why did you do this to yourself? You needed to either tell Sam how you felt or let him go.
Wiping your eyes, you headed out to wash your hands. There was another girl checking her makeup in the mirror. “You’re here with the tall guy, right? He and my friend Emily seem to be hitting it off.”
“I know, right? You don’t think your friend will mind that Sam’s a transvestite do ya?” You said conversationally as you dried your hands.
You marched out to the table on unsteady feet and slapped Sam’s shoulder, harder than you’d intended. “What?” He asked.
“I’m leaving.” You said flatly.
“Want me to walk you back? You look like you’ve had too much…..” Sam began.
“You stay with your new FRIEND, Sam. I’m fine. Nice to meet ya, Emily. I think your friend is looking for ya.” You walked unsteadily out of the bar. With Dean and Sam both otherwise occupied for the night, you’d have the room to yourself. You could feel the tears starting, and you knew you were headed for a good cry.
Changing into a tank and shorts, you took as hot a shower as the crappy motel would allow. Curled on the lumpy, scratchy motel bed you sobbed as though your heart was breaking. You were crying so hard you didn’t hear the door open.
“Y/N?” Sam said, standing uncertainly in the doorway. You immediately sat up and wiped your face.
Sam came and sat next to you on the bed. “So you wanna explain to me why you were telling women at the bar I was gay and a transvestite?”
You sighed. It was now or never. “Why do you think, Sam?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question. I hate when you do that.” He replied.
“How’s this for an answer then?” Taking a deep breath, you leaned in and kissed him.
“Took you long enough.” He grinned against your lips as he pulled you in for another longer, deeper kiss.