A/N: These "Bits and Bobs" collections will house most of my one-shot comment-fics from various LJ comms. Each chapter is self-contained, and some have been Jossed (but I'll be sure to note which ones they are).
Dean looked just about ready to shoot Sam's laptop as the Beach Boys' "Dance, Dance, Dance" came to a close. Sam had been trying to find dance tunes that Dean could stomach to get him through this incredibly stupid curse, and they'd both been surprised by some of the things he'd found in the far reaches of ("Caramelldansen" hadn't gone over half as well as the Baseballs' rockabilly cover of "Umbrella" or Die Prinzen's Alles Nur Geklaut," but Sam got a kick out of watching Dean do the dance anyway). But they were forty hours into the forty-eight-hour curse, and even Sam was getting sick of bubblegum pop. Plus, Dean was wearing down badly, shaking with exhaustion and unable to keep the tears from streaming down his face from the exertion, but he literally could not stop moving.
There was only one thing for it. Sam had spent the last three songs setting up the new playlist, and now he was ready to give Dean the break he needed. As the Beach Boys faded out, Sam quickly pulled Dean over, wrapped his brother's rubbery arms around his neck, and settled his own arms in a supportive position around Dean's chest and waist.
Dean was in no fit state to struggle, but he tried to anyway. "What the hell, Sammy?"
"Dude, shut up and stand on my feet. This is how they did it in the '30s."
Dean's protest was cut off by the distinctive pop and hiss of an old record, followed by clarinet and saxophone in quiet harmony, joined by muted brass-Glenn Miller's signature tune, "Moonlight Serenade." Sam pressed Dean's head against his shoulder and began shuffling around the motel room in something that wasn't quite a two-step and wasn't quite a waltz.
"Back during the Depression," he explained, "people used to go to dance marathons in the hope of winning some money-cash prize to the couple who could stay on the dance floor longest. Only the girls couldn't always stay awake the whole time, so the band would play something slow and the girl would fall asleep standing on the guy's feet while he kept them both moving."
"You callin' me a girl?" Dean mumbled into Sam's shoulder, relaxing in spite of himself.
Sam chuckled. "Rest, Dean. Let me do the work for a while."
Dean was asleep by the end of the song.