Wish!verse - It's Raining on Prom Night

[iluvroadrunner6]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: It's Raining on Prom Night
Author: iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT/PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester/Rachel the Prom Date, Sam, John, and Mary Winchester
Content Warning: Spoilers for "What is and What Never Should Be."
Summary: It's Sam's prom night, and Dean wants to get in on the fun.
Author's Note: Set in the Wish!Verse. Written for stargirl77 for spn_summerlove. One of her prompts was Dean/Sam's prom date. This was actually hard to write, because I had to keep them in character, but throw subtext out the window, and I really liked the way it came out. Thanks to everyone who I sent this to that beta'd for me (goddess_loki, darkmagic_luvr, tinitrinity, space_monkey_22).
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Supernatural. They're owned by the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.



“Lookin’ good, Sam,” Dean said as he walked into the bathroom. Sam ducked clumsily out of the way from Dean’s grease covered hand coming down on his shoulder. Dean gave his brother a look, and Sam returned it in kind.

“No grease on the tux.”

Dean rolled his eyes before moving away from the mirror, holding up his hands in mock surrender, “Jesus, Sam—you’re such a girl.”

“Easy for you to say,” Sam muttered. “You don’t have to pay for it if it gets ruined.”

“It’s your prom, dude,” Dean shook his head. “Stuff is gonna get on it anyway—that’s kind of what happens at prom.”

“Well—I’m gonna try my best not too.”

“Trust me, Sam, I’ve got a bit of experience in this area,” Dean smirked, leaning over the sink to start washing his hands. “That tux ain’t gonna come away one piece.”

“Well, Dean, I’m not like you,” Sam sighed as he straightened his tie. “I am not going to spend my prom in the back of Mickey Johnson’s truck, getting drunk with my date.”

Dean smirked slightly, “We were doing a bit more than just getting drunk, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.”

“You know, Sam,” Dean grinned. “Maybe if you spent your prom the way I did, you wouldn’t have such a stick up your ass.”

“As I said, Dean—I’m not like you.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dean said, placing a now clean hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re still waiting for that ‘special someone’ aren’t you?”

“Look, at least I’m not going to still be living at home with Mom and Dad when I’m twenty-two.”

“Maybe,” Dean shrugged. “But I’ll still be getting more ass.” Sam groaned and started to walk away, when Dean shouted after him, “Hey, Sam—before you go—”

“What?” Sam asked, visibly annoyed.

“Can I borrow twenty bucks?”

“No, Dean.”

“Why not, man?” Dean sighed, glaring at him. “I’m your brother.”

“And I’m your brother too,” Sam replied, making the pissy face that he knew Dean hated. “Not an ATM.”

Dean was about to say something else, when Mary’s voice drifted up from the first floor, “Dean! Stop antagonizing your brother.” Sam gave Dean a slightly superior look, and Dean shook his head, before pushing his brother out of the room.

“Out. I need to shower.”

***

“I’ll just be a minute—” Sam began as he took the stairs two at a time, heading towards his room. “—you don’t have to come.”

“With two of us, it’ll go faster,” Rachel replied, picking up the edges of her dress as she headed up the stairs after him. “Trust me.” She paused when she reached the top of the stairs behind him, glancing between the two sides of the hallway. “Which way?” she asked.

Sam nodded his head towards the direction of his room, and made his way down the hallway ahead of her. He didn’t really pay attention to if she was following, mind focused on getting in and out of there as soon as possible. It was a few minutes before he realized that Rachel hadn’t made it to the door, and he turned, poking his head out of the room.

“Rachel? Are you—”

He froze when he actually got to the door, and saw Rachel staring appreciatively at something across the hallway from her, that he couldn’t really see. He moved forwards a little more and saw that the object of her attention was his brother.

In a towel.

Sam huffed slightly, ducking his head back into his bedroom. He took a few more minutes to get a control on his temper and find what he had been looking for, before taking a deep breath and returning to the hallway.

“C’mon dude,” Sam sighed as he approached, trying his best to look only annoyed. “Could you put some clothes on? We’ve got company.”

“Please,” Rachel smirked slightly. “Don’t go through any trouble on my account.”

Dean gave his brother an evil grin before nodding, “You heard the lady, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes before turning to Rachel again, “I found it.”

“Found what?” she said absentmindedly, her eyes still focused on his brother’s chest.

“The camera?” Sam said, waving it in front of her face slightly. After that she seemed to snap out of it, looking up and giving him a bright smile, before nodding.

“OK, then,” she grinned. “Your Mom said she wanted pictures right?”

“Right,” Sam said, returning the smile, and watching her as she headed down the stairs ahead of him, and once she turned the corner, Sam shot Dean a final glare before following her.

Dean only smirked, before shaking his head and heading back towards his room, “This might just turn out better than my prom.”

***

Rachel really had no intention of sticking with Sam long once they got to prom. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him or anything—he was a nice guy, really—but she just wasn’t that thrilled that she was going with Sam Winchester. She really only went with him because he was the only half-decent guy who was left. Sam was attractive, yeah, but there was just something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. She just wrote it off that she had never really be one for nice guys, except for when they got the parents off her back. And Sam “Number Three in the Class, Full Ride to Stanford” Winchester was definitely the way to do that.

And his brother was Dean fuckin’ Winchester. Dean “I Can Make You Take Your Clothes Off Just by Looking at You” Winchester. And she had been trying to get Dean to take her clothes off for a long time, and it would have happened much sooner if it hadn’t been for that pesky fact that she wasn’t quite legal. But now she was. And in about five minutes, she was going to be getting a quick buzz on her cell phone, excuse herself from Sam, and become very familiar with the backseat of Dean’s Impala. She’d probably apologize to Sam for it later, but c’mon—

Did he really think she just wanted to go with him? Sam wasn’t stupid.

“You wanna dance?” Sam asked, taking her arm lightly. She hesitated for a minute, not sure what to say, before she was saved by the bell—or rather, by the buzzer.

She pulled the vibrating phone out of her purse and checked the caller ID, before giving Sam an apologetic smile. “It’s my mom—I have to get this.”

“Go ahead,” Sam replied, his smile faltering slightly. “It can wait till you get back.”

Her smile brightened again, and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, before darting out the door through the building until she got to the parking lot. Dean was standing there against his Impala, and she practically tackled him, kissing him deeply. He responded just as enthusiastically, getting in hurried words between kisses.

“Took you long enough.”

She reached behind him and pulled the door open, before pushing him inside. She slid in after him, straddling his waist and leaning in to kiss the side of his neck, “Let’s not waste time debating about why, alright?”

“Debating?” he gasped, feeling her fingers undo his pants and slide inside. “Who’s debating?”

***

Sam caught Ryan Mullens as he was coming back in the gym. “You seen Rachel out there?”

“Yeah, she’s out there,” Ryan said, his eyebrows shooting into his hair. “Why?”

“Because she’s my date,” Sam said with a nervous smile.

Ryan placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry, dude.”

Sam frowned again, “Whadaya mean?”

“She out in some dude’s car, man,” Ryan said, before a grin stretched across his face. “And she’s gettin’ herself a little somethin’-somethin’, ya know what I’m sayin’?” Sam gave him a look and the grin dropped, “Which was totally uncool of her by the way. Real bitch whore. Real nice car though.”

“Nice car.”

“Yeah—real classic. Nice, smooth, black, sixty-seven—”

“Chevy Impala?” Sam finished. Ryan’s eyebrows raised and he nodded.

“Yeah! Actually, it looked a lot like—” Ryan’s faced frowned, and he froze, “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded.

“That’s cold, man,” Ryan sighed, “That’s real cold.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, what’re you gonna do about it?”

An evil grin stretched across Sam’s face, and he pulled out his cell phone, “Can you still do a decent old man voice?”

***

Officer Michael Martin headed towards the car sitting in the parking lot of the high school, rolling his eyes at the loud metal music coming off the radio. He knew who’s car it was—they had been trying for weeks to bust this kid doing something they could really nail him on, but he’d manage to charm his way out of everything from a speeding ticket to a noise ordnance. This looked like it was just going to be another “Turn down the music and take the show elsewhere” call because old man O’Rourke was complaining about the noise coming from the prom. He sighed heavily before walking over and tapping on the window.

“Alright, Winchester. Let’s get this show moving. Turn that crap down.”

He caught Dean’s head poking out from behind the fluff of the pink prom dress. The thought of busting him on a statutory rape charge flashed through his mind, but he knew that all the girls who were underage were smart enough to not hang out with Dean Winchester. He watched as Dean reached for the radio and turned it down. His eyes followed the hand, and that was when he caught the bottle of vodka that was sitting in the front seat. He smirked slightly, before rapping on the window again.

“What the hell, man?” Dean protested. “I turned down the music.”

“Step out of the car please.”

“Why should I?”

“Please don’t make this difficult, sir, just step out of the car.”

Dean grumbled slightly, and the police officer watched as they shuffled around to make themselves decent, before exiting the car.

“Hello Rachel,” he smirked.

“Officer Martin,” she said, shooting him a glare.

“Oh,” he frowned. “Did I interrupt your party?”

“Bite me,” she replied, and Dean flashed her a look.

“What party, dude?” he said easily, giving the officer a charming smile. “We were just having a little fun.”

“Just a little fun, huh?” the officer replied, before walking over to the front of his car and opening the door. He reached in and pulled a bottle of Smirnoff from the front seat. “Open bottle of alcohol not only in a car but in a car with a minor.”

Dean’s face dropped slightly. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“Fuck is right.” Martin grinned at the two of them, but his grin was slightly more evil when it came to Dean. “We got you now, Winchester. Now turn around and put your hands behind your head.”

***

Sam looked up when he heard the front door slam from his bedroom, and moved to the top of the stairs, listening to Dean and John as Dean raged about how “freakin’ unfair” things were.

“If I ever get a hold of the pansy ass who called the cops on me—”

“You are not going to beat up on Patty O’Rourke because he called the cops on you,” John replied coolly. “He’s eighty years-old.”

“Mr. O’Rourke didn’t call the cops on me,” Dean replied. “Mr. O’Rourke took Mrs. O’Rourke on a trip to check out condos in freakin’ Florida.”

“Oh,” John frowned. “Guess it wasn’t him then.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Dean said sarcastically, giving his father a look. “Guess not.” He walked out of the kitchen and stormed up the stairs past his brother, and John followed, and he stopped when he noticed Sam sitting where he was.

“How was prom, Sammy?”

“Pretty sucky,” he nodded. “Dean hooked up with my date.”

“I know,” John nodded. “I just bailed them both out of jail.”

“Jail?” Sam pretended to look shocked. “Really? For what?”

“Apparently, your brother was an idiot and had an open bottle of vodka in the car with someone who was underage,” John replied. “Tonight wasn’t his finest hour.”

Sam’s eyebrows really shot up in surprise this time. Although he should have thought of it, he didn’t expect Dean to have booze in the car with him. This had suddenly gotten a bit more serious than he had planned on. John just gave his youngest son an even look before climbing up the stairs and sitting down next to him.

“I know you called the cops on your brother, Sam,” John replied. “And I know this got more out of hand than you intended, but—this is gonna cost you.”

“You’re not gonna tell Dean, are you?” Sam looked up, alarmed. John chuckled slightly before shaking his head, patting Sam on the back.

“No, I’m not going to tell your brother.” Sam exhaled in relief but then felt his father’s hand clench on his shoulder. “But I am going to make you pay me back for his bail. And Rachel’s.”

Sam huffed slightly, before replying, “I’ll get you the money tomorrow.”

“Atta boy, Sammy,” John sighed, patting his son on the back. “Atta boy.”