Chapter Text
“So Dean, y/n and I have been having a discussion,” Sam said to Dean with an arrogant tone, apparently sure that Dean would take his side and you'd be done for. The three of you were sitting at a bar in Wyoming on your way home from a hunt in Oregon. You all had gotten rooms at a motel near by and were going to finish the drive back to Lebanon in the morning.
“That so?” Dean asked, leaning forward and propping himself up on his elbow. They were seated either side of you. Sam leaned forward to face Dean and you had the distinct feeling of being surrounded and trapped. Your face grew stern and you glanced up toward the ceiling, wishing this conversation wasn't about to happen. Dean smirked at your obvious discomfort.
“Yeah, I don't know if you know this Dean, but y/n's birthday is tomorrow,” Sam said deviously.
“Come on, Sam. 'Course I knew. You start seriously dating a girl, I do my research. Especially if she's going to be living in the bunker with us,” Dean said rolling his eyes sarcastically. “What do I look like, an idiot? Don't answer that,” Dean added quickly, pointing at you before you could even get the first syllable of a retort out. You frowned for show but then smiled in spite of yourself.
“Okay, Mr. Research, tell me, where was I born?” you asked Dean knowingly, raising both your eyebrows at him.
“Well... umm...” Dean fumbled and began motioning uncomfortably with his hands. “I, uh... you were born... here... in this country,” Dean finished with a deadpan tone, his mouth twisted with a sarcastic smile.
“That's what I thought,” you said with a smirk. You smugly picked up your cocktail and finished it in one gulp. Dean made a mocking expression at you but you ignored it.
“Right, so... anyways,” Sam said, getting the conversation back on track. You huffed, surrendering to your fate. “Would you believe that y/n here, doesn't want to do anything to celebrate her birthday?” Sam asked with sarcastic disappointment.
“Oh, come on, not even free birthday shots?” Dean asked, seemingly hurt and offended by such a notion.
“Not even free birthday shots,” Sam said, shaking his head sadly.
“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Dean asked with a tone of frustration.
“Oh, come on guys, you know I don't like being the center of attention. And I honestly just don't see the point. I got squeezed out of a vagina... big woop! If anyone should get presents on birthdays, it's the mother!”
“Well, I can't argue with your last point but you know I can't give your mom cake and presents,” Sam said, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “So how about we go with the next best thing... you! And whose attention, exactly, are you going to be the center of? Because it's just the three of us... and Cas, when he shows up. You're already the center of my attention. You take up half of Dean's attention. Getting you a couple presents and eating a cake hardly alters that much,” Sam argued.
“Damn, he made his points well. He'd have made a great lawyer...” you thought.
“You know what,” you said with a small smile, “You're right. Let's do this. Birthday cake, presents, balloons, dinner, whole nine yards.”
“Really? You're giving in just like that, after all of the arguing you've done for the last week?” Sam asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow.
“Well, I have my conditions,” you smirked. You caught the eye of the bartender and motioned for a second round of drinks.
“As all smart women do,” Dean said grinning. “Sammy, never trust a woman who doesn't have conditions, means she's hiding something,” he said, sloshing his drink around as he motioned with the glass in his hand.
“Uh... noted...” Sam said uncomfortably as his eyes shifted between your pointed glare and Dean, the object of your glare. The bartender set down your fresh drinks. You broke for a moment to smile and thank him but quickly went back to glaring down Dean.
“Excuse me?” you said, your tone heavily implying annoyance. Dean looked up from his glass, confused.
“What?” he asked out of the side of his mouth, avoiding your full glare.
“We're in a committed relationship, Dean,” you said, angrily motioning between yourself and Sam. “You're implying that one day we will not be in a committed relationship.”
“That's not- I didn't mean- Oh, come on!” Dean stuttered out, frustrated. “Women... exist... you know... in the world... generally. We frequently have to find people who are hiding something! That's all I meant!” Dean explained angrily.
“It's not, but you're an idiot so I'll let it slide,” you said, inflection-less, before taking a sip from your glass. Sam stifled his laughter.
“Ass,” Dean shot at you in a hushed tone.
“Dick,” you impulsively shot back. He smiled and tilted his glass at you before taking a sip. These kinds of arguments were pretty much run of the mill with you and Dean. They had no affect on your friendship, though. At least, not for extended periods of time.
“So... your conditions?” Sam asked, once again having to redirect the conversation.
“Right!” you said sitting up straight and grinning.
“Oh boy, this is gonna be bad,” Dean muttered.
“If I concede to having birthday celebrations... then so will the two of you!” you said happily, feeling certain that they'd never agree to it.
“What? We celebrate our birthdays,” Dean said confused.
“Free birthday shots don't count, Dean! Do you even sing the song?”
“Oh yeah, can't you see me taking my fifth shot of the night and drunkenly singing 'Happy Birthday' to Sam while we sit in some corner booth at a dive bar? Yeah, that would go over really well with the local biker gang,” Dean said sarcastically.
“If you don't sing the song, no birthday's were celebrated,” you argued with a pleased grin.
“So, you're saying you want us to do the whole nine yards, too; cake, balloons, singing, cards, presents, pizza?” Sam asked.
“Whole nine yards,” you smirked.
“And you're grinning right now because you think we won't agree to it?” he asked.
“Essentially,” you said, still smiling.
“Can I just say, I don't think I should count in all this,” Dean said, drawing a circle with his finger on the bar top. You turned on your seat to face him. “This seems more like a relationship thing, so you two can make that deal and I'll just be over here finishing my whiskey in peace,” he smiled and took a sip. You tilted your head at Sam and looked down your nose at him, asking a silent question. He motioned for you to go ahead.
“Dean, if I have a birthday party, and Sam has a birthday party, you're going to have a goddamned birthday party. You know why? Because you'll see our presents, you'll see our cakes-”
“Pie!” he interjected.
“Yes, you'll see our... pies... and cards and you'll want it too! But then you'll be too proud to tell us. And you'll mope around for a month wishing you weren't such a pig headed dummy who can't say that he wants to celebrate his birthday!” you said clapping him on the shoulder. Sam was laughing quietly.
“I really don't think I will, sweetheart,” Dean said raising his glass to his lips.
“Fine, even if that didn't happen, how exactly do you think you can stop Sam and me from throwing you a party?” you said, motioning between yourself and Sam with your thumb.
“Uh, y/n? I think you've just uncovered a snag in your own argument against having a birthday party for you,” Sam said grinning. You spun on your seat to face him. Your face was transfixed with mild horror.
“No! You can't make me! I'll go nuts! I'll lock myself in my room and blare angry music for twenty-four hours straight! And I'll kick! And I'll scream! And I'll cry!” You said shaking your head slightly, your eyes wide with terror.
“Geez, if you don't want it that badly, we won't do it.... Man,” he snapped his finger, “I'll have to take back your present... It was a good one too... you would have really, really loved it...” Sam said teasing you with his fake dismay.
“Present?” you asked, your lips breaking into a slight frown.
“Yeah, I got you- Well, it doesn't matter now...” he frowned and looked down at his beer.
“Well, if you want to give me a present... you can give me a present,” you said quietly and nodded your head just a touch.
“Ah, you see, that's the thing,” he said smiling sadly at you, “Presents are only for people who are having birthday celebrations.”
“Sam Winchester you are an evil, torturous devil-man!” you said with wide, disappointed eyes.
“Woah, woah, watch who you call devil-man, lady!” Dean said shaking his head and arching an eyebrow at you. You immediately realized what you'd said and turned to Sam with your biggest, saddest, most apologetic eyes.
“Oh my god, Sam! I didn't realize what I was saying! I didn't mean- I'm so sorry!”
Sam chuckled and shook his head. “It's okay! I know you didn't mean it like that. Besides, I've really moved on from the whole “Lucifer's vessel” thing. It was what it was.” You saw his hand resting on the bar top and immediately covered it with yours, lacing your fingers over his.
“But you know, if you want to make it up to me...” he said giving you an innocent smile and raising his eyebrows in earnest.
“Oh my god, I hate you so much!” you said, releasing his hand angrily and turning to face straight ahead. Dean laughed so loudly that people in the booths behind you turned to stare despite the blaring music.
“If by hate you mean love, then yes, you do,” Sam said, smiling and grabbing your hand and holding it on the bar top. You sighed heavily and tilted your face toward the ceiling in exasperation.
“Hey, Sammy, I think that means you wore her down,” Dean said grinning.
“I hate you too,” you said through gritted teeth.
“If by hate you mean love, then yes, you do,” Dean said in a mocking sing-song voice before motioning to you with his glass and taking a sip. Dean laughed into his glass and Sam chuckled.
“So... you get a birthday, and you get a birthday, and I get a birthday... we're all getting birthday's... yaaaay...” you said vacantly before gulping the rest of your drink down. You were really starting to feel the buzz from the alcohol. Sam and Dean did the same with their drinks and the three of you exchanged uneasy looks. “Well, let this be a reminder to them,” you thought, “If they want to push me in the pool, they're going in with me.”
A few hours later you and Dean were leaning against each other for support as you wandered around the bar. Sam, your designated driver for the evening, was being no help. He got a little too much enjoyment out of watching you and Dean drunkenly solve a problem. The current one being how to get out of the bar. You'd already mistaken the bathroom doors for the exit... twice. You were both giggling at your inability to find the way out as you slowly walked around the bar which was located in the middle of the room and formed a rectangle. Dean seemed to suddenly remember something and grew quiet as he thought for a moment. You each had an arm around the others shoulder to keep from falling. He looked over at you as you continued stumbling forward.
“Y/n, I'm sorry,” Dean slurred.
You furrowed your brow and squinted at him. “Oh, it's okay, Dean. We'll find our way out eventually,” you said smiling at him.
“No... 'cause of what I said,” he said in a hushed tone and looked at you with droopy eyes.
You continued squinting at him and tried to remember what he'd said.
“I don't ever want you and Sam to split up. 'Cause if you did then you'd probably move out... and stop hunting with us... and we wouldn't be friends anymore... and Sam would be sad... and it would suck...,” Dean had stopped walking but kept his arm around your shoulder. You thought there might be tears in his eyes but it was hard to be sure with your fuzzy brain.
“Dean...,” you whispered. It broke your heart to think this was an actual concern of his. You had to make sure he realized this was not something he needed to worry about. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, which was really quite a feat in your inebriated state. “There are like,” you took out your free hand to count on your fingers, “One... two... three... four... five... There are five things that would make me break up with Sam. And none of them are things that Sam would ever do.” It was taking all your focus to form these complete sentences. “And even if the world goes insane and Sam does do one of those things... well, I say we kick Sam out because he's clearly the asshole. And we can stay best friends and hunting buddies until Sam get's his shit together,” you said, smiling drunkenly at him.
Dean laughed. “Yeah... that's a way better outcome than the one I thought of,” he said as you began walking again. You chuckled.
“Hey, is that the bathroom? 'Cause I need to take a leak,” Dean said as he noticed a door up ahead.
“No! It's the outside,” you squealed.
You made your way out the door and sighed as you felt the night air cool your flushed skin.
“Took you idiots long enough,” Sam said with a chuckle as he walked out the door behind you.
“Well, it would've been a lot faster if you'd helped,” you said incredulously.
“It's a bar with one room and a patio. I didn't know it would be so difficult to find your way out. Besides, this was way more fun,” he said smirking.
“Dean, I hate your brother,” you said as Sam wrapped his arm around your waist. You leaned against his side and Dean let his arm slip from around your shoulder.
“And it was one room, but the bar was in the middle so the room was like... a circle. And the door could have been on any of those walls,” you rationalized as you slipped an arm around Sam's waist, curling further into him as he walked you to the car.
“Of course, hon,” Sam said through muffled lips as he placed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. You could hear the happiness in his voice and it made you smile.
Sam guided you to the passenger side of the Impala and helped you into the car. Dean opened the door to the back seat but then realized that he still had to pee.
“I'll be right back,” he said, leaving the door open.
Sam climbed into the drivers seat and you laid down, resting your head on his thigh. The world was spinning around you but you focused really hard on Sam's arm draped over you and his leg beneath you and somehow the spinning slowed down to a less nauseating pace.
“Hey,” Sam whispered as he jostled you. You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him.
“It's one o'clock. It's been your birthday for a full hour,” he whispered excitedly. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut tight. Sam chuckled. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered and you felt his breath against your face. His lips pressed against your forehead and you lifted an arm to hold the side of his face. He lifted his lips and moved down to press them softly to yours. Your hand found his face again and you held it gently. It was nice kissing like this: drunk and not facing the same direction. It confused your brain just enough to make it feel like kissing was something new and fresh and not something you'd done consistently and frequently, especially since meeting Sam. You parted your lips and waited for Sam to deepen the kiss. He pulled away and chuckled softly.
“What's wrong?” you asked, furrowing your brow and pouting slightly.
“It's really hard to make-out at this angle,” he said, his face hovering about a foot above yours.
“Oh,” you pouted. “Well, I'd move but I'm really comfortable and also drunk. So don't crash and kill us on the way to the motel because I really want to kiss you properly before I fall asleep,” you said with your eyes shut gently. Sam laughed. You turned and laid on your side, pulling your arms to your chest.
“I promise I will not let you die before I get to kiss you again,” Sam said and you both chuckled.
“We're really dark,” you said while he ran his fingers through your hair.
“Yeah, but I can hardly blame us.”
Just then Dean climbed into the backseat and loudly slammed the door.
“Dude, that was the longest piss in the history of pisses,” Sam said as he started the car.
“Where did you even pee?” you asked.
“I have no idea,” Dean answered as he laid down across the backseat, resting his head on his hands. You and Sam exchanged disgusted looks before he maneuvered out of the parking lot and drove to the motel.