Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doublebarrelled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vatheon2013-01-22 09:19 pm
doublebarrelled) wrote in vatheon2013-01-22 09:19 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Dean Winchester & Barry
When: After this conversation.
Where: Bar.
Style: … Brackets?
Status: Closed.
[ Perhaps, he was moving a mite fast. Being in a new place and all, a little caution wouldn’t have gone terribly amiss. But his usual instincts, that hunter part, urging him to stay forever vigilant was fast being overridden by the growing concupiscence she’d evoked within him. There was something about her, for sure. Though for the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on what that may have been exactly.
After all, he’d met pretty women in his time; conversed with them and more often than not, taken them as bed mates. It was all fun and games, no harm done. It was almost … habitual. See a honey, flirt up a shameless storm and then, move in for the kill. He had no preferences other than smokin' hot. When encounters were that casual, he figured it was okay to be superficial. There was nothing of any real substance there anyway, even during those rare times when he stuck around for pillow talk.
She on the other hand, had piqued his interest in another way entirely ...
He’d found the bar easily enough. Inside, it was quiet, almost private; the tired looking bartender, more absorbed in his task of polishing glasses than showing any real interest to his patrons. After ordering his drink ( ‘Leave the bottle, pal.’ ), Dean settles himself down at the far end of the bar, glass of whiskey in hand. Glancing at his watch, he concluded that she’d soon arrive; the angelic beauty with the killer cleavage.
Only then did it occur to him that he never did ask for her name. Not that names mattered, really. They were just two strangers in a strange world. ]
When: After this conversation.
Where: Bar.
Style: … Brackets?
Status: Closed.
[ Perhaps, he was moving a mite fast. Being in a new place and all, a little caution wouldn’t have gone terribly amiss. But his usual instincts, that hunter part, urging him to stay forever vigilant was fast being overridden by the growing concupiscence she’d evoked within him. There was something about her, for sure. Though for the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on what that may have been exactly.
After all, he’d met pretty women in his time; conversed with them and more often than not, taken them as bed mates. It was all fun and games, no harm done. It was almost … habitual. See a honey, flirt up a shameless storm and then, move in for the kill. He had no preferences other than smokin' hot. When encounters were that casual, he figured it was okay to be superficial. There was nothing of any real substance there anyway, even during those rare times when he stuck around for pillow talk.
She on the other hand, had piqued his interest in another way entirely ...
He’d found the bar easily enough. Inside, it was quiet, almost private; the tired looking bartender, more absorbed in his task of polishing glasses than showing any real interest to his patrons. After ordering his drink ( ‘Leave the bottle, pal.’ ), Dean settles himself down at the far end of the bar, glass of whiskey in hand. Glancing at his watch, he concluded that she’d soon arrive; the angelic beauty with the killer cleavage.
Only then did it occur to him that he never did ask for her name. Not that names mattered, really. They were just two strangers in a strange world. ]