14: [Action] Night Moves
Dec. 30th, 2010 02:55 am[ooc; Double-date is for Dean, Castiel, Santana, and...the mystery date.]
"She was a black-haired beauty with big, dark eyes," Dean mumbles somewhat in-key, flicking his BIC lighter open and touching the flame to the candles settled on the table. He's done his best, really - someone as unromantic as Dean Winchester trying to plan anything remotely sexy (And not in the raw, natural way) is almost destined to fail in a spectacular fashion, but at least he tried. He's commandeered one of the unused studies on the first floor, yanking a table into the middle and arranging four chairs around it. There's plenty of food - the kitchen provided well: some fancy salad for whoever his date would be, something Italian (with breadsticks) for Santana, a burger for Cas, a steak for himself.
God, he's starving.
"...out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy," Dean chuckles, tucking his lighter away, "Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy...workin' on our night moves." He hums through the chorus, poking a plate on the table to one side to make it just right. He adjusts his tie with a little grimace. Dean doesn't look bad; in fact, he looks really good*, but it's only because the closet wouldn't give him anything else. Dean had asked it for something 'nicer', and after four times asking the same question he decided to take the goddamn striped shirt and tie and wear it.
Cas is supposed to show up soon. Before the dates arrive. Dean checks his watch and makes a face. "...c'mon, Cas. It's show time." Shuffling over to the chaise lounge in front of the fireplace, he throws himself on fine, silk fabric with a little sigh.
With any luck, he might get some action tonight.
Finally.
*Exhibit A:

"She was a black-haired beauty with big, dark eyes," Dean mumbles somewhat in-key, flicking his BIC lighter open and touching the flame to the candles settled on the table. He's done his best, really - someone as unromantic as Dean Winchester trying to plan anything remotely sexy (And not in the raw, natural way) is almost destined to fail in a spectacular fashion, but at least he tried. He's commandeered one of the unused studies on the first floor, yanking a table into the middle and arranging four chairs around it. There's plenty of food - the kitchen provided well: some fancy salad for whoever his date would be, something Italian (with breadsticks) for Santana, a burger for Cas, a steak for himself.
God, he's starving.
"...out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy," Dean chuckles, tucking his lighter away, "Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy...workin' on our night moves." He hums through the chorus, poking a plate on the table to one side to make it just right. He adjusts his tie with a little grimace. Dean doesn't look bad; in fact, he looks really good*, but it's only because the closet wouldn't give him anything else. Dean had asked it for something 'nicer', and after four times asking the same question he decided to take the goddamn striped shirt and tie and wear it.
Cas is supposed to show up soon. Before the dates arrive. Dean checks his watch and makes a face. "...c'mon, Cas. It's show time." Shuffling over to the chaise lounge in front of the fireplace, he throws himself on fine, silk fabric with a little sigh.
With any luck, he might get some action tonight.
Finally.
*Exhibit A:
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 07:26 am (UTC)She has no delusions about who she is.
"Can't you just tell him you're too old for him or whatever? You seem to get a lot of use out of that."
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 07:35 am (UTC)WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 07:47 am (UTC)"I don't know! Tell him you're married back home, you're becoming a monk, whatever!"
Re: WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 08:02 am (UTC)Dean raises an eyebrow. "Would any of that have stopped you?"
Yeah, he didn't think so.
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 08:08 am (UTC)"First of all, Kurt Hummel does not have the balls to go after someone with thousands of reasons not to. He's a romantic little virgin; he had a crush on one of the jocks and like, the furthest he got was touching the guy on the arm.
Second, marriage might put me off." The guy had to be really hot for that mess to be worth it.
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 08:22 am (UTC)How else can I keep from shattering his soul when he finds out that I'm not gay and I'm not going to be?
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 08:50 am (UTC)WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 03:17 pm (UTC)WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-02 08:42 pm (UTC)"I guess. Or you could start dropping hints about your not being into him like you're totally clueless. You know, like you were up until, what, half an hour ago?" She smiles sweetly. "Let him down without actually doing it, whatever."
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-03 04:18 am (UTC)He sighs. There's truth in Santana's words, as much as Dean hates to admit it, and he has no other options. He's either gotta suit up and ask Kurt outright, or continue to play dumb.
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-03 04:52 am (UTC)"Well, if you don't have anything else to say about how hot I look, can I get back to my breadsticks?"
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-03 05:41 am (UTC)"...sure. Go eat your friggin' breadsticks." Dean tries not to grump too much. "And...thanks."
WE ARE HAVING A GODDAMN TALK NOW SO WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, WOMAN.
Date: 2011-01-03 05:46 am (UTC)"No problem." Because it's still kind of hilarious.
"Good luck!" she says in sing-song, before walking back to the table, hips swinging.