(A/N) okay so I hate author's notes as much as the next guy, but if you actually clicked on this thing then good for you, have some more backstory real quick. first word of buisness I DO NOT ACTUALLY SHIP THIS. it's crack, 100% pure, unadulterated crack. anywho, my sister was playing Sims and this accidentally happened and so then obviously I had to write a fic about it. (who wouldn't? it's hilarious). So bear with me. (it'll probably be a two-shot)

He was spending what he hoped was to be a peaceful evening in a bar with his brother. Everything that he could have hunted had been hunted and they'd decided to turn in for the night, satisfied with their work. He was just about to hit up the bartender (she wasn't the most attractive person by his standards, but he was in the mood), when the stool next to him became occupied. He glanced over to see a young man—not too much younger than him, but young enough that he still had that boyish apparatus about him—with white blond hair and aviators hiding his eyes. Dean snorted to himself, there had been many a day he'd mocked people who wore sunglasses at night, and here this kid was wearing them both at night and indoors. He must be some sort of conceited asshole, Dean thought, raising his glass to his lips.

"Hey bro, no need to gawk, I'll be here all night," the guy said, catching Dean off-guard. He nearly choked on his drink as he turned back to the white-haired boy, who had a smug expression. Or at least, the corners of his mouth were turned up, Dean couldn't see his eyes. Not that he was looking at the guy's mouth or anything.

Dean scoffed and turned away from the cocky young man. "Don't flatter yourself, buddy. I've seen better." He realized the moment after he said it that it was certainly not the right thing to say if he wanted to end the conversation between him and this other guy. His statement only provoked the guy into proving that he was the best Dean had seen—talk about over confidence.

"Oh really? Are you talking about the guy you see in the mirror every day? Because dang son, he's certainly one of the best I've seen." The guy grinned, his head resting on his hand which was propped up by his elbow resting on the bar.

Dean forced a laugh. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Do you want me to?"

And now the spotlight was on him. Did he want this (admittedly attractive) boy to be hitting on him? He had recently admitted to himself that he was bi, so it wasn't the fact that he was a guy that was holding him back. What exactly was holding him back, he couldn't really tell. So he decided to take the ambiguous route.

"Depends on what you're offering," Dean said, taking another drink of his beer.

"Gog, you're making me sound like a prostitute," the other guy said.

"You very well could be," Dean pointed out. "I'm just saying that I know nothing about you. You showed up, hit on me, and you expect me to not make assessments?" he shook his head in playful disdain. "I expected more from you."

The blond sat up. "Hey, to my defense, I came in here to get a drink and the next thing I know, the guy next to me is checking me out, so I think I have the right to be a little flirtatious."

"I'm not saying that you don't. I'm just saying-"

"-that you have no idea who I am. Well, hello, stranger, my name is Dave." the blond held out his hand in greeting, which Dean accepted, albeit somewhat awkwardly (shaking hands in a bar is actually the last thing he thought he would be doing tonight).

"I'm Dean," he said in response.

"Dean…" Dave mused. "That's a neat name, I like it."

"Is Dave short for David, then?"

Dave chuckled, "Nah. My bro named me and he's not really into the whole biblical scene."

"I see," Dean said. "So, uh, you doing anything later?"

Dave grinned, "Now who's the flirtatious one?"

"Oh shut up, we were already flirting," Dean said. His stomach turned over. Was it because he was being too forward? Was it something else? He decided to push it aside. "And you never answered my question."

"I never did, did I?" Dave said. "Well, as a matter of fact, my alien friends will probably stop annoying me for a few days, so no. I'm not doing anything later." He smirked under those ridiculous shades that Dean couldn't help but want to rip off his smug little face. "Would you like to change that?"

Hell. freaking. yes.

/\/\/\/

Sam had only rolled his eyes when Dean said he'd be home late and shooed him away with well wishes for him and his new boyfriend. When Dean argued that they most certainly were not that serious, Sam only laughed and told him that he better not let Cas catch him with this guy or he was in for trouble. Dean honestly didn't know why Cas would care.

"Where, exactly, are we going?" Dean asked after sliding into the passenger seat of Dave's car (he wasn't used to riding shotgun, especially with as young as this guy was).

"My bro's throwing a massive party right now and I figured 'what the hell? maybe I should take you,'" Dave said. "It'll be totally sick, believe me." Dave said, driving out of the parking lot of the bar. Dean supposed he should add the fact that Dave was sober to the reasons why he was driving instead of himself.

A stray thought crossed Dean's mind. "So, if your brother's party is so 'sick,' why aren't you there already?" he asked. It was a valid question.

Dave shrugged. "Didn't have a date. My bro probably would have been totally chill with it, but you know how it is."

Yeah, Dean knew. He didn't have to put up with it a whole lot, but he knew the feeling. So he smiled. "Will there be food?"

Dave grinned. "Tons."

Not terribly long later they pulled into the driveway of a very large apartment complex. It bore a great resemblance to normality, all except for the flashing lights and heavy-based music coming from the roof. "I'll take it it's a roof party?" Dean asked, sliding out of the car.

Dave chuckled, "yeah. We've got an apartment on the top floor so we basically control the roof. It's a pretty sweet gig." He motioned for Dean to follow him up into the building.

"You're brother's going to be cool with me being your date and all, right?" Dean asked out of a random moment of unsurity. he really had no idea what the heck this was all coming from, but his stomach kept turning. He decided to blame it on the drink and push it aside.

Dave snorted. "Psh, yeah he'll be fine. My bro is hella gay, he really doesn't care." They stepped out of the elevator and into a long hallway with yellow walls and horrible red carpet. Dave scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "Ignore the decorations, it's a pretty shit apartment." he was queit for about five seconds before cursing under his breath and muttering something like "gog I hope he didn't invite them" before turning back to Dean. "So, there's these people that my bro probably invited and they have this weird, uh, cultural quirk let's call it that, where they think that "party" means "dress up as weird as you possibly freaking can" so if anybody has gray skin and/or polkadotted pants, don't get freaked out, okay?" Dave looked really concerned about this.

"That sounds alright," Dean said. "Like I said, I'm just here for the food."

Dave smirked, "Yeah right. You agreed before you even knew where we were going."

Dean did not have a good retort to that.

Dave laughed. "Dude, you look so flustered, it doesn't suit you." he stopped in front of one of the doors and punched a few digits into the number lock before opening the door. "Right this way," he said motioning Dean inside.

"Are you sure you're not just leading me to your room under the guise of this party?" Dean asked, following Dave into the small apartment.

Dave turned back and shot Dean a look, his shades garing white in the light, and his mouth twisted into a playfully seductive smirk. "Well that depends on what you're asking," he said.

"Depends on what you're offering," Dean retorted, winking.

Dave's head turned away, but Dean could have sworn he saw the younger man's face flush. Score! he thought, following Dave through the small apartment. He took Dave's temporary silence as an opportunity to look around. The apartment would have seemed relatively normal. It was a disaster, but that was sort of expected. If he and Sam were to ever actually stop moving around and get a place like this it would probably also be a mess-actually no. Sam is way to organized for that. But this place was a vastly different kind of mess. There were weapons of all sorts just laying around. And accompanying the weapons was a vast assortment of-he didn't know what the heck they were. They looked like brightly colored stuffed toys with noses that protruded a little too far and asses that were a little too pronounced.

Dave noticed his gawking and chuckled. "Admiring the smuppets? They're my bro's. I can't stand them," he said.

"Smuppets? What kind of a person is your brother?"

"Hell I don't even know." Dave laughed. "Tell you what. I introduce you to him, and you try and make a conjecture as to what kind of person he is."

"Challenge accepted," Dean said as he followed Dave through a door and up a few flights of stairs.

"So, uh, I have a lot of really weird friends and they're probably all here." Dave said.

"You said that already. Gray skin and polka-dotted pants, right?" Dean said. He wasn't sure why Dave was so reserved about this, he'd seen enough weird shit to last a lifetime. Weirdos in costume was certainly the least of his concerns.

Dave chuckled awkwardly, "Yeah, that. Also there's this blind girl and she's really freaking weird. If she tries to lick you, don't be alarmed. I mean, don't let her lick you, but just know that it's nothing out of the ordinary."

Dean nodded. "I'll see what I can do." He laughed to himself as he imagined introducing Dave to his family. 'My mostly normal little brother, and my Angel-I mean, Castiel. He's socially awkward and doesn't really understand pop culture or idioms or basically anything. He's great though, I promise.'

"What's so funny?" Dave asked, turning to him quizzically just as he approached the door that presumably led to the roof. The muffled sound of booming music reverberated through the walls and the floor underneath Dean's feet.

"Nothing, I was just making fun of myself. Let's get this party started."

The smile that crossed Dave's face was nothing short of endearing. "You are my kind of guy." Dean's stomach turned over again. What he wouldn't give to take those retarded glasses off his face and take a look at Dave's eyes.

"I'm flattered, really," he said, as Dave opened the door and the cool night air flooded into the stairwell. Music flooded his ears-it was a song Dean had never heard. An elated cry rose from the people on the roof as he and Dave walked into the semi-crowded party scene. If Dean hadn't already trained himself to tune in on minute head gestures (thanks Cas), then he wouldn't have noticed Dave scanning the crowd quickly and then his shoulders relaxing when he either found (or didn't find) whatever it was he was looking for. Of course, this only peaked Dean's curiosity.

A girl with long, dark hair, big round glasses and (strangely enough) dog ears attached to the top of her head ran over and threw her arms around Dave's shoulders all the while squealing his name. She released him very shortly after and turned to Dean.

"Ohmygosh Dave, who's your boyfriend?" She asked, eyeing Dean in the most innocent way possible.

"Dean Winchester," He said, holding out his hand in greeting. She took it and shook vigourously.

"Hi, I'm Jade, it's good to meet you," she said.

"Hey Jade,"

The girl looked over at Dave, who beckoned her to come closer. He whispered something to her while her eyebrows rose, before her face turned back to one of determination. "Yeah, yeah I get it, I'll go find him."

"Find who?" Dean asked.

"My, uh, boyfriend." Jade said, nodding as Dave visibly winced. "See you later Dave, don't get too crazy." She winked before running away again, her black dress billowing out behind her.

Dave forced a laugh, "Now that that's out of the way, how about I show you around? Maybe make this significantly less awkward."

Dean laughed, "Sounds swell to me."

/\/\/\/

A couple hours and a few drinks later, Dean was talking with one of the gray-skinned fellows (they really had some intensive dedication to their makeup) about something, the conversation didn't make a ton of sense. The girl was babbling away about something or other, her unnaturally sharp teeth glaring in the dim, artificial lights. Dean made some passing comment about her tail that kept moving about with her excitement to which she launched into this rant about how her "moirail" (whatever the hell that was) made it for her when he accidentally broke her back hugging her.

Fraking mental.

She was called away again by another one of the gray-skinned people (a tall, muscular man with hair that was a little too long, in Dean's opinion), so he stood up and went to find Dave. His knees almost buckled at first, he really had had too much to drink. Dave was sitting against a wall on the edge of the party, staring blankly into the crowd.

Dean came over and sat next to him. "Hey."

"Hey."

They were quiet for a moment, and Dean looked into the crowd. It wasn't long until he noticed that Dave had a very clear shot of this group of four people, who were talking, laughing, and carrying on. Of the four, Dean recognized two. One was the dark haired boy with glasses that Dave had introduced as, John, was it? John had his arm around the shoulders of one of the gray-skinned girls with mismatched candycorn horns and glasses that had one lense filled in. The other one he recognized was the blind girl who was pestering a grouchy, gray skinned fellow with short, stubby candycorn horns. Though he did appear to be thoroughly annoyed by her advances, Dean could tell that his efforts to shoo her away were only half-hearted.

"You okay, dude?" Dean asked.

"Yeah fine, why?" Dave replied, as he turned toward Dean. His voice was slurred with the alcohol, and his white-blond hair was mussed in an (annoyingly) adorable way.

"Nothin', you just looked a little out of it." Dean said. He didn't take his gaze away from the younger man, but instead watched his own reflection in the boy's glasses in a desperate search to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Dave must have caught on to this. "You lookin' for somethin', lover boy?" he asked, scooting closer to Dean so their legs and shoulders were pressing together.

"Yeah, actually. Can I see your eyes? You've been wearing those ridiculous shades all night, and…" Dean trailed off, not really knowing how to end that sentence.

Dave smirked. "And you think I'll look sexy without them," he finished.

Dean couldn't deny the truth to that statement. "Nah, I'm just curious to see who exactly I've been talking to all night," he answered, trying to keep his cool.

Dave chuckled lightly and sat back. "I guess you've earned it, but you better feel freaking special," he said, reaching up and removing the aviators from his face.

Dean was not entirely prepared for the events that followed.

His breath caught in his throat as green eyes stared into red ones. He reached up and gently stroked Dave's shaggy bangs out of his face, careful to never break eye contact. "You have...your eyes, they're…"

"Red? strange? demonic? albino?" Dave said, trying to finish Dean's sentence.

"Quite stunning actually," Dean said. "In a good way."

Dave laughed softly. "Really?"

"Really." Dean hesitated. "Do you mind if I…?" His hand still resting in Dave's hair, he drew the blond ever so slightly toward him.

"Go right ahead," Dave said. Dean could have sworn he saw Dave's eyes flick right toward the party before they closed and their lips met.

It was a soft kiss. Sweet, gentle, innocent. It was also the first time Dean had ever kissed a man and, to say the least, he was not disappointed. Dave broke it off after not very long and pressed his forehead to Dean's their alcohol-tinged breath mingling in the cool night air.

"Do you mind if I…?" Dave asked, one of his hands moving from his side to the back of Dean's neck.

"Go right ahead," Dean said and he closed his eyes and again pressed his mouth against Dave's.

Dean did not very clearly remember coming inside, but here he was, in what was presumably Dave's room, pressing the boy against a wall as the blond fumbled with the buttons of Dean's shirt, their mouths locked together in a dance of tongues and old whiskey.

He felt soft hands on his bare chest and back and Dave pulled them closer together, eliciting a soft moan from Dean. He was just working his hands under the fabric of Dave's shirt when he heard an all-too-familiar fluttering behind him, and suddenly they were not alone in the room.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas' deep voice shook the relative silence of the dark room. Dean broke away from the younger boy and turned back to the angel to see what could have only been a mixture of shock and hurt on his face. Shock, Dean expected. Hurt, that was shocking.

"Holy Fraking Jegus man, where the frak did you come from?" Dave exclaimed, his eyes trained on the newcomer.

"I came from across town," Cas replied.

Dave muttered something his breath which sounded oddly like "don't need any more Egderps jumping dimensions I have enough to deal with"

"What the Hell, Cas?" Dean said, frantically working to rebutton his shirt. "I can have one night to myself, can't I?"

Now it was Cas' turn to look flustered. "Yes, Dean, you can, but Sam told me who you were with, and I became worried for your safety."

"Worried for my-? How the hell is being with Dave worrying?"

"Do you know nothing about him?" Cas asked, glowering momentarily at Dave, who threw up his hands in self-defense and innocence. "You spent the entire night with his friends and family, people who, on a regular basis, you would be trying to kill."

"Woah, Kill?" Dave threw a worried glance at Dean.

"I wouldn't kill any of them, Cass. Dammit you sound just like Sam."

"Sam shares the same sentiments," Castiel said. "He sent me after you just as much as I came of my own will. Now let me take you home." He stepped toward Dean, one hand outstretched.

Dean looked over at Dave, who's eyes were wide with confusion. "I guess I have to go now," He said as Cas pressed his fingers to Dean's temples and they were whisked away to a shabby motel room across town.

How sad it was that the first thing he thought was that he didn't get Dave's number.

Sam jumped up immidiately and began lecturing Dean about the dangers of trusting people like that and weren't the shades indication enough that you shouldn't have gone with him? you could have gotten yourself killed etc etc.

Dean wasn't really listening, until Sam said one thing.

"Most of them weren't human. They're trolls, aliens from another planet, and rumor has it, they're not incredibly hospitable."

That's why, later that night, when he was crawling into bed and noticed that Dave had slipped a piece of paper with his cell number on it into his pocket, the first thing he did was send this:

[ Dave, I have questions for you. Meet me at the diner on 5th west at 1. -Dean ]