#rpg: smca

[nick-writes]

“You sure you’re not secretly a therapist?” 


“Not really sure where I’d find the time. Why?” 


“Nah man, no reason. You just always seem to know what’s up.” 


“I try to pay attention.” 


“That’s what you call staring at me out there?” 


“You get into a lot of fights.” 


“And a lot of dancing and drinking.” 


“Believe me, I know.” 


“Hm.”

[nick-writes]

Ash/Dean + "That was kind of hot." (listen I know we know shit all about them but hey, take it as a challenge~)

It was easy, after a few drinks, to say something. Ash laughed out loud at the first swing, ducking his head. He didn’t even need to say anything to be cocky, grinning as asshole number one seemed confused to see him not lying on the floor. 

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about asshole number two, and at the sound of his back hitting the club floor, time snapped back quickly into place. He rolled, a punch glancing off his jaw and tried to scramble to his feet. It didn’t take long for him to be rushed, though he was still throwing punches. Ash could taste the blood on his mouth as he tried to find the right leverage. 

And then suddenly it wasn’t needed as the music stopped and there were several bouncers on them. He knew who was helping him – would’ve been able to bet on it easy. It had been the same guy the last few times he’d fought in here. His arms were strong, but more than that, he absolutely seemed to know when Ash was about to get into it. And speaking of arms…. 

Dean’s hands were under his arms, helping him stand, and Ash grinned. He was a little dizzy from the drinks and the adrenaline, his eyes raking over him. “That was kind of hot,” he murmured, shifting himself to press against him, but then he wasn’t there anymore. Damn. 

“I’m going to get back to the door,” he could hear him saying to the others, and Ash straightened up, eyes fixed. He wanted – and yeah, maybe it was stupid, but Dean always putting himself just out of reach was hot. At least he could still look at the way his shirt pulled across his shoulders, tight and the gap of skin he could just see between shirt and pants. That was an ass too. 

He wasn’t even trying to pretend he wasn’t looking – not even Dean’s misstep and his sudden cough could distract him from thinking about how he’d kill to get his head between those thighs.