Author: Mad Server
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 100, on the nose
Summary: Sam. Dean. Some birthday drinks.
A/N: Written for the E/O drabble challenge, prompt word "local." SciFiRN, this is for you.
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.
"So this is where the locals come to get their grind on."
"Yeah," Sam chuffs, steadying himself in the archway. "Think I'll keep my grind to myself."
"And deny these women your potent Winchester essence?"
"You go be potent for both of us." Sam's bleary eyes rove the strobe-lit room, seeking out the bar.
"Uh-uh, birthday boy. It's your duty. You're gonna grind. I'm thinking, with her." Dean nods toward the dance floor, his eyes sparkling.
Sam squints, vague. "Later. Drinks first."
"More drinks? Sammy... priorities."
Dean raises his hands in surrender. "Don't say I didn't warn you."