Work Text:
I’m working. Daydreaming. Listening to the noises around me.
I hear soft mumbling outside followed by two gorgeous–ridiculously good-looking–guys in suits walking in. But, like, listen, most of us aren’t strangers to seeing beautiful people, okay, but the onslaught of the image these two present is just–it’s too much.
My dumbass tries to play it cool; I am cool. Beautiful boys will not reduce me to an embarrassing mess.
“Hello,” I say as normally as possible as they near my desk–don’t want to sound too curious.
“Hi, we’re, uh, Agent Green and Agent Reign,” the tall one tells me and they both flash some form of ID, not enough time for me to see what it really says. “We’re, uh, looking for Mrs. Stevens?” he continues.
I can’t control my eyebrow raising at that. I scan their overall appearance, check out their relatively cheap suits and their too-baby-smooth faces. I have to suppress the urge to say something smart-ass because they look like they’re out playing around with daddy’s badge. I don’t though, with them supposedly being authority figures and all.
“I’m sorry. You just missed her,” I say and I catch the blond one’s gaze obviously checking me out– which, okay, wow. I choose to ignore that. “She’ll be back in an hour or so. Anything I could help you with?” I wonder what they could possibly want my aunt for.
“You know any good places to eat?” the ridiculously pretty blond asks me. It's the first time he’s spoken and he has a nice voice to match those eyes. Those very eyes fly over me, head to toe, and I’m uncomfortable with how it affects me. The asshole definitely knows the effect he can have on girls.
“Just around the corner–Pacino’s, it’s the best one we’ve got,” I answer, looking from one Zoolander cast member to the other standing by his side. I’m this close to physically squirming and I curse them for making me feel this way.
“I bet we will,” he replies non-sensically, and I wonder if everything this guy says just sounds that much dirtier because he’s the one saying it.
I get defiant when men are that sure of themselves, especially the pretty ones. It makes me want to take them down a peg or two. But this guy… has every right to be–which is annoying as all hell.
My brows knit while I’m thinking that and my eyes wander over to the tall one again. He gives me some kind of an understanding look back and–shit, am I blushing?!
“Should I let her know you guys are looking for her?” I ask the tall one. He has gelled his hair to tame his floppy hair, but whatever attempt he has done has failed. It’s very cute, but doesn’t do well for their credibility.
“No ma’am, that’s okay, we’ll come back later.” Floppy tells me and I can’t help glancing at Blondie for a second and I receive a wink from him for it. I want to roll my eyes but I remember this isn’t the place to do so. Instead, I feel the blush intensify and I just nod in agreement, biting down on my lip.
“Thank you, miss uh, I’m sorry, we didn’t get your name Mrs–” Floppy has a pad and a pen and I look at his long fingers before answering.
“Cars. It’s Georgia Cars.” I say, wondering why on earth they would need that for. He scribbles something down and I hear a faint screaming sound.
It gets louder by the second. Floppy stops his writing and looks at me.
I hear it getting louder and their eyes on me make me want the earth beneath me to crack open and swallow me up.
I grab at the source of the sound, which, ugh, is my phone and I look at them apologetically.
Apparently, I have a message because the ringtone starts with a woman saying Message! In a low voice, but then she kicks it up a notch every time, and then she’s basically screaming. It cracked me and Tammy up when we heard it for the first hundred times. It still does though.
I let out a soft giggle, because seriously, this is too hilarious. They look at me like they’re trying to hold back their own smiles so I just smile and say: “Sorry… I have a message…”
The pretty one coughs and barely suppresses a laugh and I feel lame. Floppy looks down at his pad again.
“Well, miss Georgia Cars, we’ll be seeing you around then,” Blondie tells me with an unmistakable glint in his eyes. Floppy throws me a quick polite smile and they leave.
I slap my forehead and laugh because, well seriously, this is just my luck. My mind quickly wanders off to the way the lips on Blondie curved. “A mouth made for sucking,” is what Tammy would rudely say. And then my mind wanders off to the way the butt, damn that ass, looked on Floppy –very good–with those skinny hips of his but with those hulking shoulders. My head nods along with that thought.
I watch them outside, Floppy hits Blondie’s shoulder hard and I seriously question their authority.
I try to come up with a reason for why they were here, but aunt Stevens never tells me anything so I check my message. It’s from Tammy. She’s sent me an image of Elmo-hanging-from-the-ceiling-chair-kicked-to-the-side-beneath-him and I laugh and shake my head. Fucking Tammy.
***
Later that night, I meet Tammy at Loca’s, which is supposedly a hot spot. My hair looks great but I look like shit. Tammy looks gorgeous as ever and she’s wearing THE sweater. I hate her for it for a second, but when Tammy grins widely upon spotting me, I’m reminded about the guys from before.
I tell Tammy about Lips and Legs and how the ringtone ruined me forever. She laughs loudly at that and I watch as Tammy’s face changes and her mouth falls open a bit. I swear I can almost see her drooling. Tammy licks her lips and I follow her gaze toward the door.
“Please let it be them,” Tammy says, and I feel a flutter going through, from toes to crotch, to chest and ears, excited. I’m probably smiling like a complete idiot at her.
Tammy kicks my foot under the table and I look to my left.
“Miss Georgia Cars!” Lips greets me with the widest grin ever and Legs gives me a beautiful nervous smile. They are both in their civilian attire and they look way too young to be anything professional.
Tammy and I flash them our brightest grins, because, damnit, how can we not, and he continues before I can give them any form of greeting.
“Nice to see you here. You ladies having a good time?” he asks while eyeing me and Tammy.
He’s quiet long enough for me to respond and all I can come up with is a cough and “Agents! Welcome. Off duty I see?” Tammy kicks me again and I shift in my chair.
Legs flashes me a real smile and reveals two kissable dimples and he looks at Tammy to acknowledge her, giving us a way to introduce her.
“Yeah, we had to come out! Y’hear about these nurples?” Lips asks Tammy. I look at Legs and he looks a bit uncomfortable.
“Yeah, hottest thing at this hot spot,” Tammy replies somewhat sarcastically. And I remember I’m supposed to introduce her.
“Agents, excuse me-” I say pointing to Tammy. “This is my friend Tammy–Tammy this is Agent Green.” And I point to Legs’ chest because pointing higher would be unnatural for my arm. I’m also slightly surprised that I remember their names at all. “And this is his partner Agent Reign.”
I see the shift in Tammy’s face, the asshole, as she puts on her naughty face and says: “Sooo, Agents? What should we be calling you now that you’re off duty?”
Lips seems pleased that someone is into flirting. He smiles, well he doesn't seem to smile ever, more like smirks and says “Well you can call me Dean. And this tall hunk over here is Sam.”
Sam shoots Dean an irate look but smiles politely at Tammy. At this point, I’m guessing they’re more than just partners.
Tammy smiles mischievously at Dean and bends forward to reveal some cleavage and I quietly damn her sweater again. “Well, Agents Sam and Dean, be sure to try those ‘nurples’ and let us know how they’re working out for ya,” and leans back into her chair again, back arched a little bit.
Dean seems a little taken aback by Tammy and I love it. I’m pretty sure he’s not used to girls like her.
“Will sure do. Ladies, uh, enjoy the evening.” His grin seems a bit wrong-footed, but he seems to read the room with grace well enough and takes Sam with him to the bar. I can smell the scent they've left behind and it tickles my nose for a second.
Tammy turns to me and almost whispers: “They’re so into each other!”
“What?” I say, not really sure if I understand her.
“You didn’t see it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous… besides, Lips was like, all over you!”
“Yeah, I am wearing THE sweater,” she laughs. “Why didn’t you ask them to sit with us?”
I think about why I didn’t. I can’t really think of anything except for my own sheer awkwardness, so I just shrug.
“Yeah, well, have you seen them?” Tammy takes a sip from her beer, smacks it down on the table and almost screams at me. “Go over there and invite them!”
Tammy shoos me over to them and I’m more nervous than I had expected. But something about Dean makes me want to look like I’m in control and fearless, no-nonsense. And Sam… at this point I think he’s soft enough for the both of us. Don’t really like softies as they bring out my motherly side. Not that I believe Sam could be that soft with that body of his. By now I’m pretty sure I’m walking twice as slow, but I still get there too fast.
“How are the nurples?” I ask for lack of a better opening and I seem to have walked in on some kind of Important Conversation. They both turn to me and smile.
“Miss Cars, you’ve gotta try these!” Dean tells me while holding up a shot glass.
“Georgia, please,” I say, staring at the glass.
“Oh they’re awesome, Georgia… Sam here won’t oblige.” He says while raising it towards Sam’s face. “You will though right?” And his gaze holds mine for a few seconds.
I hear Sam murmur something along the lines of: “Give it up, Dean.”
“Yeah, sure, want to bring the drinks over to our table? Think Tammy wouldn’t mind some either.”
I look from Sam to Dean. Sam seems to hesitate, but he’s still smiling at me.
“Oh, really?” Dean says giving me a cocky smirk. I damn him and his cheeky eyes.
Dean sits down between me and Tammy and Sam sits down next to Tammy, facing Dean and me. Sam seems a bit more relaxed now and jumps into a conversation with Tammy.
His long legs press against my leg every now and then, but when I look at him there is no sign of acknowledgment.
He does look over at me and Dean every now and then, I can see him doing so from the corner of my eye. But the thing is… I’m not really sure which one of us he’s actually looking at. I try to concentrate on Dean because he’s smiling at me like that again.
There are beers and nurples in the middle of the table. Dean hands me a beer and takes one for himself, he takes a long pull and I watch his movements. When he blinks I swear I can hear his eyelashes make a flapping sound.
“You guys are pretty young to be agents…” Tammy’s voice breaks through. I quickly look from Sam to Dean again to watch their reaction. I’ve been wondering the same thing.
“Well thank you kindly, ma’am. It’s people like you who keep us young,” Dean replies smoothly, practiced, and leans back into his chair, draping his arm behind me on my chair.
He doesn’t know Tammy though and she won’t let go that easily.
“Come on… you can’t be over 30 and Sam over here definitely can’t be older than we are.”
Dean looks at her almost predatorily and leans forward, making Tammy lean forward too, like a magnet.
“See, Tammy….” And the way he says her name would better fit inside a bedroom setting.
“We’re not just Agents…” And his eyes trail down to Tammy’s hand holding her beer bottle and he brushes a condensation drop from her finger, slowly, with his own index finger. “We’re special Agents.” And he looks her right in the eye again. Damn his magnetism.
I'm irritated that that was so fucking hot. I’m sure Tammy must’ve had a silent orgasm, but she seems perfectly calm.
Tammy’s eyes have darkened and I know for a fact that she’s boiling inside.
She mimics Dean’s cocky smirk and says: “You’re also shameless.”
She manages to shoot Dean somewhat of a chastising grand-ma look that only I seem to catch and she turns to Sam asking him about Law School. Apparently, Sam used to be pre-law.
Dean smiles like a naughty schoolboy who’s about to pat himself on the back.
Tammy doesn’t bother with Dean for the rest of the evening but keeps Sam engaged in an upbeat conversation about law school and psychology. I kind of want in on that conversation, but Dean is distracting me–which I can’t deny I highly enjoy. He’s funny and endearing when you look past the smart-ass halve-insinuative remarks.
He’s asking me questions about my hometown, about school and about dating. Sam and Tammy have joined the conversation by now and Tammy blurts out: “George doesn’t date.” before I can say anything. I really want to slap her.
Sam and Dean both look at me curiously and Dean mimics an idiotic southern accent, asking: “Why not, such a purdy gurl like you?”
I try to shift the attention away by pointing out that Tammy doesn’t date either. She looks at me like she’s about to slap me too. Tammy makes them drop the conversation by saying: “Because most men are idiots.” She gives Dean a purposeful look while doing so.
Sam laughs, nods and says “True, true.”
Dean looks almost hurt and I try not to blow Tammy an air kiss.
Sam’s knee is pressing into my knee again and it kind of sends a shudder through me. I shift in a way that now my other leg is accidentally touching Dean’s and the head of Sam’s shoe is pressing into mine. They both don’t seem to notice though.
Tammy gives me a long look, which I can’t really place, and after a while she subtly announces her leave. I’m suspicious of her though, even more so when she winks at me while she leaves.
Neither she nor Sam hint that something was left unfinished, however. I catch Dean giving Sam a look, but Sam ignores this and waves Tammy goodbye. Dean just nods at her. Tammy definitely struck a chord with him.
I know Tammy would never do anything anyway, not even if Sam had jumped all over her, which he didn’t. Which I thought was also nice. I’m surprised at this newfound possessiveness I seem to feel for these two guys.
“Fun girl,” Dean tells me as he watches Tammy leave.
“Yeah, she’s a handful,” I say. And now it’s quiet. I remember how I came upon meeting these two.
“So agents, what was it you needed my auntie Stevens for? Is she in trouble? “
“Auntie Stevens?” Dean asks me surprised and he cuts Sam a meaningful look.
“Uh, no we just wanted to ask your aunt a few questions, that’s all. And you too actually!”
Sam seems almost excited and he’s leaning forward, all interested. The glint in his eyes makes me tingly inside.
“Me?” I ask, making an unflattering head jerk.
“Yeah, like what’s your favorite color!” Dean interrupts.
“We can do this tomorrow, Sammy,” He says, almost reprimanding but he takes another sip from his beer and smiles sweetly at Sam.
Sammy? I let this sink in for a bit while I watch how this newfound Sammy makes this face at Dean, like an irritated old lady. A Bitch-Face. I suppress the giggle stuck in my throat and just look at them.
Sam doesn’t reply to Dean’s remark and I figure they probably do this all the time. They are definitely more than partners. But I can’t quite tell how or in what way.
I study Sam’s face and I think he’s one of those guys that would make panties melt effortlessly if only he would smile and flash those pearly whites of his. Sammy was probably this person.
By now, I think Dean’s one of the few that can turn this Sam into a Sammy.
“So what is your favorite color?” I’m surprised it’s Sam asking that and I notice Dean giving him a look.
“Red,” I answer, feeling some kind of tension.
“Passionate then,” Sam says with an honest smile and takes a sip from his beer. I can’t help but return a grin in his direction. Dean looks at me and back at Sam.
I wonder for a moment why I know nothing about these guys except for their job and their names. But most of all I want to break this tension I’m quite sure I’m not imagining.
“Hey! Where are ya guys stayin'?” I don’t really mean anything by it but I suddenly realize how it might sound.
“Why’d you ask?” Dean laughs and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, but his muscles don’t quite help him along. I think he’s pretty buzzed by now and that I maybe should offer them something. I might be a little buzzed myself.
“We were going to find a motel later,” Sam replies, he sounds pretty sober.
“See.. the way I see it.. you shouldn’t really be driving and my house is pretty much walking distance. You guys can sleep it off there.” I just say this and I don’t care what they might think I’m getting at, but it’s for their own safety, I swear.
I have to repeat this to myself when Dean laughs when we’re at my front door and he asks if I do this often.
***
I make the couch for Sam and try not to watch his chest when I see him taking off his jacket and his hoodie. He’s just standing there, hovering, looking uncomfortable. I curse him for being such a dipshit. He thanks me, I smile and show Dean the guestroom.
I’m brushing my teeth while I think about getting milk from the kitchen. I slap my own forehead because I probably should’ve gotten the milk before I brushed my teeth. I’m feeling giggly and a bit giddy, trying not to examine too closely the decisions I’ve made up to this point–the milk thing is the least of it.
I hear a soft chuckle and see Dean standing in the doorway. He’s wearing his boxers and t-shirt. I think that that specific sight of him should be illegal. He looks so boyishly cute.
“You okay?” he asks, amusement coloring his everything.
I decide not get into that particular bit and ask him if he’s ready for bed, hating how he will probably twist that sentence. He doesn’t though.
He just looks at me and steps into the bathroom. I feel goosebumps spreading instantly.
He’s approaching slowly and I can’t look away. His face is soft and sweet with just a hint of danger. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
He lifts his hand and rests it on my cheek. My eyes flutter close at his touch. It’s a purely physical reaction. Everything seems to be with this guy.
He caresses my cheek and drops his fingers down my neck, all the while staring at my mouth. I know what’s going to happen next, but I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about it, but faintly glad that I just brushed my teeth.
He steps closer and I can feel his body heat. He lowers his head and kisses me softly: his lips are soft and cushiony. He pretty much numbs my mind right there on the spot. I swear I can feel my legs wobble. I sigh, and something in the back of my head is mentally slapping me, telling me this isn’t my first kiss. I kiss him back.
He seems to like that and pushes me gently against the wall, pressing his lips harder onto mine. The wall feels cold and I shudder, but he pulls me against him and his hands are on my back, warming me all over.
He flicks his tongue over my top lip and I can taste a faint trace of the nurples. And then he slips his tongue right in and kisses me slow, sweet, and deep and I welcome his every taste. His ugh, no other word comes to mind, divine lips move gently over mine and I want to taste him more.
He sucks my tongue into his own mouth and traces it with the tip of his own. He’s carefully playing around and this surprises me. I didn’t expect those lips to be capable of this kind of kissing. I should’ve known his entire being is an act. He’s the soft one.
He pulls back and looks at me before pressing his lips onto mine again, more delightful pressure as he sucks on my bottom lip. I’m lost for a second there and I squeeze whatever part of him in reach, which is apparently his ass. He purrs into my mouth and pulls me closer and a moan escapes my mouth.
A sound down the hall brings me back to reality and I push Dean away. He looks at me somewhat confused and I’m not sure what to say. The confused look is traded for some devilish glow in his eyes and he says: “You know, that was my A-game there…”
I feel like an idiot and all I can come up with is to say: “Goodnight, Dean.”
I manage a confident smile but I’m still not sure my legs can carry me out of the bathroom. He smiles back at me but I can tell he’s pretty unsure at this moment, his voice sounds normal when he says: “Goodnight, Georgia.”
I return to my own bedroom which is next to Dean’s and I still feel awkward. I toss and turn for about another hour, listening to Dean’s soft snoring and trying not to hit myself again.
I didn’t mean for it to happen the way it did. The kissing with Dean was great and hot. But it somehow didn’t seem right to continue, especially not with Sam down the hall.
After another fifteen minutes of frustrating myself, I remember the milk I had wanted before. Milk helps I recall. I was planning on getting that very same milk when certain velvety lips interrupted my quest.
I notice a dim light in the living room and when I turn the corner, I see Sam.
He’s spread out on the couch, reading, hair dangling in front of his eyes, completely relaxed. He’s wearing a t-shirt and just his shorts. A sight for sore eyes.
He notices me too and quickly draws his legs in and looks up at me shyly. Where Dean had looked boyish dressed down, Sam looks more manly with more layers peeled off.
“I, uh, couldn’t sleep, so grabbed one of your books… hope you don’t mind.” He laughs nervously and gives me some kind of puppy look. Fucker, I think, I bet he gets away with anything when he puts that look on because it sure is working on me.
“No, of course not!” I smile reassuringly, still taken aback by this unfiltered look of his. “I couldn’t sleep either.” For some reason, I feel a little guilty for the reason of it.
I walk past him so he can’t see my flushed face and I grab the milk, letting the fridge cool me a bit.
“I read somewhere milk will help you sleep… would you like some too?”
“I thought it was warm milk?” He tells me, and I arch an eyebrow. He looks at me with this sheepish smile and says “Yes, please,” as he steps into the kitchen.
I warm the milk on the stove and I feel his eyes on me while I grab some mugs, the air feels weirdly intimate.
“I uh… thanks for letting us stay here,” he says with a sweet smile and looks at the ground again when I don’t look away. I want to hug him and squeeze him but at the same time tease him and make him let go of this shyness.
“Sure, no problem,” I say and I try to come up with a theory about how this guy could be anywhere near shy or insecure taking up the amount of space the way he does. His huge muscles intimidating yet turning me on at the same time.
I must’ve been staring at him because his eyes have now taken on an amused glint. He chuckles softly and says: “Hope Dean wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Why’s that?” I say too fast, wondering what he might’ve caught on to.
He looks at me as if he’s deciding on something. “I mean, he can be like that sometimes,” he says, careful somehow. He leans against the counter and rubs at his nose. He sighs. “He’s a great guy though.”
“It’s okay, nothing I can’t handle.” I smile while handing him a mug. I still have no clue why Sam said that.
We both take a sip from the hot milk silently, eyes locking over the mugs before he looks away.
“So,” I start. “You and Dean, been partners long?”
He looks at me somewhat uncomfortable.
“We, well..” he lets out a soft chuckle like he’s remembered something. “Not very long, but it feels like forever, y’know?”
“Looks like it too. Must come in handy with the job, right? Getting along the way you two do?”
“Yeah, I guess we are.” He’s silent for a second but then lets out another chuckle. I wonder why it is that talking about Dean is the only thing that makes him relax like this.
“Dean, y’know–he’s not all bad. I mean, he may be loud and cocky, but… he has my back.”
I nod, thinking, partner my ass.
He’s staring into his now empty mug, his mouth a straight line, but his eyes are smiling.
This is somehow making me smile too and I feel the urge to put my hand on his arm. So I do. I meant for it to be somewhat of a friendly touch. But I feel the skin beneath me heating up and he’s looking at me. No Mr. Puppy-eyes, but a man. And his eyes are big, soft and inviting. He doesn’t look away and that’s good enough for me.
My hand reaches up to his face and he lowers his head, our lips brush and he whispers: “I thought… uh–Dean...”
I pull him close and kiss him, up on my toes and still barely reaching him. He takes my mug and sets it on the counter along with his own, not letting go of my lips. I think that’s pretty awesome and I murmur “Nah” into his mouth.
His lips are soft too, but so much different from Dean’s. He’s kissing me back carefully. Still all lips, no tongue. And right when I think this, he sucks in my bottom lip and wraps his arms around me. I feel like a little girl again and he kisses me harder, pressing my body against his own. His tongue slips around mine quickly and he kisses me again. At this moment I’m thinking Sam knows exactly what kind of effect he can have on women but chooses to have it switched off. We back up onto the sofa bed and he nearly falls on top of me. I have to laugh at what it might’ve looked like if he would’ve crushed me. Death by awkward sexy. He probably thinks the same thing and he’s laughing.
I sit back up again and my hands rest against his chest. His eyes are dark now, almost dangerous and it’s the hottest thing I have seen from him so far. I’m thinking Sammy’s coming out to play tonight and I’m loving it.
***
Four hours later I wake up with the biggest headache ever. Sam and Dean are already gone and I’m kind of thankful for the possible awkwardness it might’ve saved.
I’m hungry and I get up from the sofa bed. I look down at it and think about what the poor thing experienced last night. I giggle and wrap the sex-ridden sheet around myself and peer into the fridge. My attention gets drawn to a yellow post-it stuck to the milk carton.
Thank you, we’ll be in touch.
I chuckle again at the dryness and simplicity of the note and I think it’s actually pretty thoughtful and cute that it’s stuck to the milk carton.
I remember what that milk had led to last night and I feel my entire body heating up. I stick my head into the fridge and let it cool me, but random images of the night pop into my head: Sam’s not-so-surprisingly huge cock and the look on his face as I went down: Dean slipping inside of me, holding me with just the tip inside, those plush lips on my nipple. He had been beautiful too. I hate the fact that they’ve probably spoiled me for life.
I picture them and it occurs to me that I didn’t really know what I was doing last night. I had known I had to do something when I noticed Dean standing in the hallway and Sam basically getting off on it. I didn’t realize until halfway through what this probably meant for them. Hell, the looks they were giving each other: it was as if two lovers were going at it, not three people having wild sex. It was hot and nasty though…. damn.
Who was I to deny them something like that, right?
I remember the multiple orgasms and I shiver. I feel sorry for the entire female race that they have to miss out on those two from now on.
I grab the milk carton and pour myself some milk, smiling–the things I have Tammy to tell.
**End**