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The monster looked like a very pretty, very toned, very sexy woman with long blonde hair wearing a bikini. Later, Dean would try to tell himself that he and Sam could be forgiven for having a momentary lapse when they burst into the room with their machetes held high. They weren’t exactly sure what they were dealing with, but cutting off the head was always a good start.
Really though, could anyone blame them for stopping in their tracks? The monster looked like something out of any red-blooded American man’s wet dream. Based off of the victim descriptions, Dean had been expecting something more along the lines of scaly blue skin and fangs. So he’d need a few seconds to recalibrate his head when they saw a stunningly beautiful woman instead. But those few seconds had cost them both.
“Bobby is gonna kill us,” Sam said grumpily into his beer. He looked tired and pale. “I can’t believe that it got both of us before we could do anything about it.”
Dean shrugged and sighed. “At least it didn’t kill us,” he said in an attempt at optimism that fell flat judging by Sam’s dirty look. “Come on, Sammy. We don’t even know if it did anything to us.” He knew that was the wrong thing to say by Sam’s deepening glare.
“It totally did something, Dean,” Sam snapped back. “It spit on us!” He sounded so revolted that Dean had to use his beer to cover up a grin, even though it really had been pretty damn disgusting at the time. Neither of them had been expecting that beautiful woman to open her mouth comically wide and spit hideous gobs of saliva at them, enough so that they’d both been drenched.
“Well, that’s the side of being a hunter that no one tells you about,” Dean said diplomatically, which earned him another, even deeper glare.
“Whatever. How the fuck are we gonna kill this thing?” Sam said, stabbing at his salad.
“I dunno,” Dean had to admit. “We don’t even know what it is.”
“I think it’s some variant on a succubus, except that it’s not having sex with people,” said Sam. “I was doing some research while you were showering. I finally managed to find a reference to a kind of succubus that is more focused on romantic love than sexual love.”
Dean screwed up his face. “Romantic love? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Basically, I think it steals your romantic energy.” Sam saw the clueless look on Dean’s face and sighed heavily. “Your ability to fall in love, Dude. Crushes. Stuff like that. It redirects all of that energy towards itself, and that’s what it feeds off of.”
“Huh,” Dean said, pretending like he understood, even though he still didn’t really get it. “I’ve never heard of a succubus like that."
"Me either. They’re pretty rare from what I can tell. But if they’re a variant of a succubus, they should be able to be killed the same way,” Sam explained.
“So we’re back to the machetes,” Dean said, finishing off his burger in a couple of big bites.
Sam pushed the remains of his salad away and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. That’s probably the easiest method. But there’s something else.”
“What?” Dean asked warily. It was never good when Sam mentioned a ‘something else’ in such a cagey way.
"Until we kill it, we won't be able to fall in love," Sam said grimly.
Dean blinked for a few seconds. "Uh - what?"
"You heard me. This isn't a one time thing. That's what drove some of those victims so crazy," Sam said. "That's why they felt so empty."
Empty. The word made Dean want to twitch and snap at Sam. He refrained, but only because he knew that kind of reaction would make all of Sam's deepest curiosities rush to the surface. After the day they'd had, he didn't think he could handle getting the third degree from Sam. This was the kind of thing that Sam wouldn't let go until it was all out in the open. If Dean had any hope of getting through this with his secret intact, he needed to pretend like everything was fine, and that falling in love was something he'd miss.
"Well that sucks," he said lightly, aiming to sound as casual as possible. "So like, that thing can make people feel that way forever? That is some seriously long-lasting bad mojo."
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at the phrasing. "That's not what I would call it, but basically yes. I'm not sure why its effects last so much longer than a normal succubus. If I could find more information about it - "
"But you can't, and really Sammy, what does it matter? You know what it is and we know how to kill it. You’ll be back to falling in love with pretty girls soon enough. Isn't that good enough?" Dean asked. He caught the eye of the bartender and nodded at her.
"Another beer, boys?" she asked, sauntering slowly over to them. Now she, Dean thought appreciatively, was one gorgeous human woman. She had short, dark hair, dark eyes, and a great rack. She'd bent over in front of him twice already, allowing him a teasing glimpse down the front of her top. Now, she smiled and leaned forward a little bit, pushing her breasts together. His eyes zeroed in on her cleavage like a moth to a flame.
"None for me, and I think my brother's had enough too," Sam said. "Right Dean? Dean!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dean said, finally tearing his eyes away from her breasts. She was smiling knowingly at him.
"I get off around two," she said, reaching out to pick up their beer bottles. "I have a long walk home through some very dark alleys. I could use a little... protection." She lowered her eyes coyly, speaking the word 'protection' with a breathy little gasp that definitely made Dean pay attention.
"Well, sweetheart, maybe I'll be here to escort you," he said, smiling at her.
She smiled back. "That sounds good to me. I'll be waiting." She winked at him and sashayed away.
"Dude," Sam said, and Dean turned to see his brother staring at him with a faintly puzzled frown.
"What now?" Dean said, confused. Usually Sam either got all bitchy when Dean picked up girls, or he'd just roll his eyes and get all holier-than-thou about it. This was new and it made Dean feel a bit wary. He quickly ran through his conversation with the bartender, but he couldn't think of anything that would prompt this sort of reaction from Sam. It had been the usual flirting.
Sam's frown deepened, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say something, but then he shook his head. "Nothing."
"If you wanna say something, then say it, Sammy," Dean said.
"Let's just go back to the hotel," Sam said. "I want to see if there's anything else I can find on what we're up against."
"Fine by me," Dean said. He got up and dug into his wallet, tossing down a generous handful of bills. He'd spent most of last night trolling the bars and grifting any sucker who was dumb enough to think they could beat him in pool, so he had more than enough for a nice tip. People in the service industry always appreciated that.
They drove back to the hotel, where Sam went right over to his bed, picked up his laptop, and fell deep into the rabbit hole. Dean took a quick shower and then sat around for a while wasting time until it was time for his sex rendezvous. When he left to meet the bartender, Sam didn't even notice. Dean decided to count that as a blessing. Hearing a long lecture from your brother about how you had more important things to worry about than sex didn't tend to put him in the mood.
The bartender was outside waiting for him by the time he got back. She sauntered over and leaned in the window, smiling. "I didn't know if you were coming back or not."
"Sorry, I had to deal with my dumb brother first," Dean said. "I'm Dean."
"Sasha," she said. "Mind if I get in?"
He grinned. "Knock yourself out."
Sasha straightened up and opened the door, sliding inside. She directed Dean back to the apartment that she shared with a couple of roommates. Luckily, said roommates were out of town for the week, so they had the apartment to themselves. Dean's clothing hit the living room around quarter after two, and there they remained until some time after ten the next morning. Sasha was still sleeping when he left, quietly slipping out of her apartment and heading back to the hotel.
He picked up breakfast on the way back - an egg white omelette with whole wheat toast and a side of fruit for Sam, and a greasy truckers breakfast for himself. Sam was in the shower when Dean returned. He put Sam's food on the table and sat down to watch some Dr. Sexy with his own - three eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, toast, and home fries. A real breakfast, as Dean preferred to think of it. He picked up his fork and dug in.
"Oh, you're back," Sam said as he came out of the bathroom. "I thought you'd still be with - uh, what's her name."
"Sasha," Dean said through a mouthful of potatoes.
"Dude." Sam shot him a disgusted look, which made Dean roll his eyes. He wordlessly gestured over to where Sam's breakfast was, which at least transformed Sam's glare into a smile.
"She was cute. It was a good night," Dean said once he'd finished chewing and swallowing. "I like her."
Sam sat down and looked at him thoughtfully. "You mean you like-like her?"
"We're not in fifth grade," Dean said, rolling his eyes again. "And we only spent one night together. I'm not in love, if that's what you're asking." He poured a pretty decent amount of disdain into the words 'in love'. Sam was always hovering around like he thought that Dean was going to fall in love with one of the women he bedded someday soon. If only his brother knew he had absolutely no reason to be concerned about that!
"I don't get it," Sam said, frowning faintly.
"Don't get what?" Dean picked up a piece of bacon.
"Well... I saw that bartender too," Sam said.
Dean stared at him for a long moment, waiting for the rest of that statement. He really had no idea where Sam was trying to go with this. It irritated him when, instead of elaborating, Sam opened up the container that his food was in. He scowled as Sam sprinkled a bit of pepper onto his egg white omelette and ran Sam's words back through his head again. Sam had seen the bartender too. So what? What the heck was that supposed to mean?
"What are you talking about?" he snapped finally, chomping down on his bacon.
Sam smiled and cut a piece of his omelette. "I just meant that normally she's the kind of person we'd both be into."
"Okay?" Dean said, even more confused than before. Frankly, he thought it was just as well that Sam hadn't been interested after all. As far as Dean was concerned, between him and Sam, there was really no contest!
"Wellllllll..." Sam dragged the word out. He was definitely enjoying this. "I wasn't into her because I can't be. I can't fall in love, or get a crush, or anything like that. That succubus took that away from me. But you didn't seem to have that problem."
Shit, Dean thought, seeing the trap that Sam had laid a moment too late. He thought quickly as he took a big bite of eggs, using that as an excuse to not answer immediately. The truth was that his encounter had Sasha had felt like it always did. She was gorgeous and the sex had been amazing, but that was the extent of it. There was a reason that Dean was the 'love 'em and leave 'em' kind of guy. He'd figured out pretty fast that if he couldn't fake all that relationship shit for Lisa, he couldn't fake it for anyone. That's why one night stands where they skipped town right after were so perfect.
"Maybe that's because I'm not a girl," Dean said at last. "I don't need to have a big girly crush before I get into bed with someone, Sammy. Maybe you do, but I don't."
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Most people have to feel something towards a person that they’re jumping into bed with, Dean. That’s why most of those victims were so upset. But you know, there was one that wasn’t.”
“Oh yeah?” Dean said, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah. This girl who was aromantic." Sam pronounced the word way too clearly. He gave Dean a very meaningful look which Dean pretended not to notice.
"What, you mean she likes spices?" Dean said, scoffing a bit, and was delighted when Sam rolled his eyes.
"No, Dean. Aromantic, not aromatic. And that's not even what aromatic is anyway. It’s – oh, never mind. Look, aromantic is when someone doesn't feel romantic attraction. Sometimes it means that a person doesn't want to date or do anything romantic," Sam said. He was getting that annoying, know-it-all, lecture-y tone to his voice, the one that always made Dean want to cringe and run away.
"I'm not interested in lectures, Sammy. I really have no idea what the hell you're talking about," Dean said with an exaggerated sigh. "I had sex with a cute girl. That's all. You should try it sometime. Might remove the stick from your butt."
That did it. Sam glared at him. "You don't have to be such a repressed dick about it. I was just trying to help."
"Well, don't! There's nothing wrong with me. I don't need your help," Dean snapped. "Besides, it seems like you've forgotten that I had a very successful relationship with Lisa."
He saw Sam frown and felt a flicker of victory. Clearly, Sam had forgotten about Lisa. He didn't know that things with Lisa had gone completely sour before Dean left to resume hunting. He didn't know about the fights Dean and Lisa had had. He didn't know about all the times Lisa had yelled at him for not being romantic or invested enough. He didn't know about damn hard Dean had tried, and how miserable it had felt to fail over and over and over again.
And if Dean had his way, Sam never would. As far as Sam knew, Dean had returned to hunting because having a normal non-hunting life was too boring for him. Sam thought he'd broken it off with Lisa because having a long-distance relationship with a hunter was too hard. That was exactly the way that Dean wanted it to be. At this rate he and Sam would never be done hunting, so Dean would never have to worry about faking it with another relationship again - and it wouldn't even look that weird.
"Just forget it," Dean advised. He closed up the remainder of his breakfast. "You're the weirdo who can't have sex without being in love, not me."
"I am not a weirdo!" Sam cried.
"That's what you think," Dean said, smirking at him. "I'm ready to finish this hunt whenever you're done your breakfast, weirdo."
"Damn it, Dean - "
Dean let the hotel door swing shut behind him, closing out the remainder of Sam's rant. He could still hear it a bit through the door, but it was pretty muffled - though he didn't envy the people in the rooms on either side of them. He stood there for a moment and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Sometimes Sam was a little too observant. It was a nice feature in a hunter, but a really annoying feature in a brother. He'd have to be careful over the next couple of months until Sam let this whole 'aromantic' shit go.
And if he was going to do a couple of searches on what aromantic really was the next time he swung by the library, well. No one needed to know.