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A Moose Goes to a Bar

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It was all Dean’s fault really.

 

Honestly, Sam was happy for his brother. Really, he was. Cas was a great guy and he was great for his brother. Once Dean had gotten over his gay panic and finally told Sam about his new boyfriend, he had obviously been a supportive younger brother. I mean, really, Dean should have expected that. Sam had come out like. Years ago. But that was beside the point. The point being that Dean was happy with Cas and Sam was happy for them.

 

Unfortunately, that also meant problems. See, Sam was single, and he was perfectly happy being single, but Dean just didn’t seem to be able to get that through his thick skull. Because obviously if Dean was in a relationship and incredibly, disgustingly happy, that meant no one else could be happy unless they too were in a relationship, right?

 

Right. According to Dean at least. Which is why every Friday and Saturday night for like, the past month now, Dean and Cas had dragged Sam out to some bar in order for him to ‘meet the man of his dreams’ or however Dean had put it.

 

Sam snorted, looking around. Speaking of his brother, he had disappeared about an hour ago. 5 minutes after they walked in actually. See, as soon as he had gotten Sam situated at the bar with a beer in hand, he had promptly disappeared with Cas as usual, probably to some dark corner where they could--

 

Oh hey. Yeah. Okay, gross. Sam shook his head. His brother and his boyfriend were tucked away in some shadowy booth in the back corner of the bar, with their tongues stuck down each other’s throat. So nothing new. Sam had honestly had enough of the whole bar scene. He had been done with it as soon as they walked in. Unfortunately, his brother was his ride home and he knew Dean. They wouldn’t be leaving for another couple of hours at least.

 

Groaning, Sam turned around in his seat to face the bar again, closing his eyes and taking a pull from his beer and praying to God that this night would just end as soon as possible so that he could go home.

 

“Bad beer or something?” Sam looked up at the sound of a cheery voice just as the owner of said voice, a short blond guy, plopped himself down in the bar stool to Sam’s immediate left. He held up his finger at the bartender as he came by to take his drink order. “One of whatever the sexy moose here is having so we can groan about the crappiness of it together!”

 

Sam couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that, which brought a bright smile to the guy’s face as he looked up (and up and up--what? Sam’s a tall guy, it’s not something he can control) at him. And wow.

 

Yeah, when he’d sat down Sam had noticed he was attractive enough, with his slicked back hair and obvious air of confidence. But when he looked up? Those eyes and that smile. The short guy basically had liquid gold for eyes. Like, literally. Some fucking god out there had to have melted down the purest gold in existence and poured it into his head to make his eyes, they were just that perfect. And his smile was simultaneously sexy and adorable which, how the heck was that even possible?

 

The guy cleared his throat and Sam quickly realized he’d been staring, quickly feeling a heat rise in his cheeks, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled even bigger and stuck out his hand.

 

“Name’s Gabriel, call me Gabe. You got a name? Or should I just keep calling you ‘Sexy Moose’ forever?”

 

Sam knew his blush only got more obvious at the ‘Sexy Moose’ comment, but he stuck out his hand to shake Gabe’s anyway. “Uh yes. I mean. No. I mean. Uh. Sam. My uh… my name is Sam?” He couldn’t help but give himself a mental facepalm at that because really? He couldn’t even say his own name now? Wow. Just. Wow.

 

Still, Gabe didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled and pulled his hand away, reaching for the beer the bartender set down in front of him. “So Sam-a-lam, wanna tell me what you were groaning about? Because I know it’s not actually the beer because this happens to be my favorite and you just look like the kind of guy who’s got good taste in, well, everything.”

 

Sam really wished he would stop saying things like that because it was preventing him from thinking and communicating like a normal human being, which is something that he is fully capable of doing under normal circumstances. Mentally chastising himself for acting like an idiot, he shook his head quickly and smiled a bit.

 

“Ah, no, not the beer. The beer is actually the only thing getting me through the night. I was dragged out against my will by my older brother and his boyfriend, and they left me when we got here to go make out in a dark corner. And since they’re my ride home, I’ve just kinda been sitting here bored for the last hour or so.”

Gabe gave him an understanding smile. “Ah, I see how it is. Big bro is having fun so little--or uh, not-so-little Samsquatch has to come out and have fun too?”

 

Sam grinned at the use of yet another absurd nickname and nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

 

“Well then tonight’s your lucky night!” Sam just raised an eyebrow at the attractive little man next to him, who took a long pull from his beer and then stood up to be able to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I happen to be a great conversation maker and I have absolutely nothing to do, so for the rest of the night I am your personal entertainment!”

 

Skeptical as he had been at first--sure the guy was cute, but Sam had never been one to immediately warm up to random strangers at a bar--Gabriel soon had him clutching his stomach and doing everything he could to keep himself on the stool and not falling to the ground from laughter. Gabe was hilarious and smart, and Sam found conversation with him to be the easiest thing in the world. In fact, a couple hours later Sam was surprised when a very drunk Dean and almost equally as drunk Cas stumbled up to him practically demanding to be driven home so that they could watch Tangled immediately (honestly, Sam knew better than to ask with those two), having not realized so much time had passed and honestly a bit disappointed that his conversation with Gabriel had to come to an end.

 

Gabe, on the other hand, just smiled and offered to help Sam drag the two men out to the car so he could drive them home. Sam thanked him and reached for his wallet, but Gabe stopped him before he could. “Don’t worry about it Samsquatch. You drag Rapunzel there out to your car while I pay for both of our stuff, and I’ll be out with Mr. Trench-Coat-In-July in just a few.”

 

Sam tried to protest, but Gabe just waved him out while reaching for his own wallet, so Sam took the keys from his brother and brought him out to the car. After finally getting Dean situated in the back seat, he looked up to see Gabe struggling to get Cas to the car. Sam quickly helped seat him next to his boyfriend in the back before turning to Gabe to thank him for the help. Gabe apparently had other ideas. He reached up for a hug, which Sam didn’t hesitate to return, and said “thanks for a great night!” Pulling away, Sam almost didn’t notice as he slipped a bar napkin into his hand, throwing a quick call me over his shoulder as he sauntered back into the bar.

 

So yeah, Sam thought as he lay in bed that night. It was all Dean’s fault. If it hadn’t been for Dean, he never would have gone out to the bar, never would have met an adorably sexy golden-eyed shorty, and never would have gained possession of the dirty, crumpled bar napkin with a hastily scrawled phone number on it that was sitting by his bed under his phone waiting for an appropriate hour the next morning to be programmed into his phone and dialed so that Sam could ask the man who would pick up out on a proper date to pay for those drinks from the bar.

 

Sam would have to remember to thank his brother in the morning.