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[weary_head]

The walk to the Winchester was longer than Dean remembered it. Every other step produced a wince, every third an awkward readjustment of his jeans - Dean didn't regret what had gone down earlier that day, but his body was making damn sure he didn't forget about it either. Even his legs were more bowed than usual, and Dean didn't even bother to correct them as he made his way inside the bar, walking right up to take a stool.

Jesus. Were they always this hard and unforgiving? The stool didn't look different, but Dean couldn't help but squirm, trying to find some relief for his poor ass.

Fuck. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

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[little_moons]

From my place behind the bar, rag in hand and humming to a song playing low and muffled on the radio, I watch his slow progression from the door to the line of stools, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up toward my hairline with each of his pained steps.

He can't even sit.

Wiping the last of the bar down, I plunk a glass in front of him and mutter, "You know they got creams for that."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Do what?" Dean looked up, blushing before he'd even fully comprehended the statement. "Oh right. He-hemorrhoids," he grunted, trying to twist the stutter into a laugh. "Yeah, I'll have to get some of that."

[little_moons]

Snorting out a startled laugh at that stutter -- a fucking stutter, for chrissakes -- I say, "What the fuck happened, man? You get shot in the ass again?"

I reach for a bottle and pour him a drink before he can make his order. It looks like he needs it.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean reached for the drink, folding both hands gratefully around the glass. "Shut up," he said, mostly because it made him feel better, and took a long drink. "Can't a man's ass be his own business?"

[little_moons]

"Hell no," I laugh, like it's the most obvious answer in the fucking world. "How do you think you're payin' for that fuckin' drink I just poured you?"

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Well not with my ass," Dean replied around the glass, "What're you, looking to make this place the new Catscratch?" He set down the glass, cringing when even the smallest shift set off a new pang. How the hell did gay men do this all the time?

[little_moons]

"Not with your ass, stupid. I was a hooker, I'm not exactly plannin' on becoming a pimp," I say, giving him a dude, you are so fucking weird look, complete with eye-roll, that really can't be described as anything but brotherly.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Oh, so what, I'm paying with details about my ass instead?" Dean shook his head, but pushed the glass forward for a refill. This was worth a lot of drinks, and he was getting his ass's worth.

[little_moons]

"You shouldn't have come in here if you didn't want me to ask," I point out with a grin, topping off his glass and leaving the bottle nearby. He shouldn't known it would've been damn near impossible for me to keep my mouth shut.

Then, something about the way he's sitting, the tension in his shoulders, the way he won't meet my eyes and that twitchy sheepishness he hasn't been able to hide since he shuffled in the door... All that gives me an idea, just a quick flash of one and yeah, maybe a visual, and my eyes widen. "... dude."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean gripped his glass a little tighter, wondering why in the hell he had come. But the pain in his ass was annoying as hell, and if anyone knew a way of dealing with it, it'd be Neil. Somehow the thought just made Dean blush hotter.

"What?" he said, hedging for a second more before he finally groaned out, "So what? It's not that weird." It wasn't.

[little_moons]

I cough out a laugh, mostly out of surprise, and say, "You know I don't think it's weird," with a kind of half incredulous, half amused smile plastered across my face.

After a pause, I arch a curious brow, leaning forward a bit and asking, "What did she use?" It doesn't occur to me that Angua wasn't involved. Of course she was. It also doesn't occur to me that some shit should be kept private. As far as I'm concerned, it's all fair game.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean leaned back, instantly regretting the motion. "Strapon," he coughed into the hand he'd slapped over his mouth to stifle the groan. Maybe it was private, but in light of the secret Dean chose to guard - the pink, satiny secret - giving this one up wasn't so bad.

"Never let her get it near me before. All those straps and the - " Dean's hands briefly framed his crotch. "Thing's fucking scary looking."

[little_moons]

I do laugh then. Really laugh. I can't help it. I instantly feel bad, I do, but the idea of her coming at him with a giant latex strapon and him cowering away after all he's been through... Yeah, it's fucking funny.

Doubling over 'til my forehead drops over onto the bar counter, my shoulders shake with the effort to keep it quieted down to helpless wheezes. "Dude, you're walking around like she fuckin' gutted you. It's not that bad."

[little_moons]

I do laugh then. Really laugh. I can't help it. I instantly feel bad, I do, but the idea of her coming at him with a giant latex strapon and him cowering away after all he's been through... Yeah, it's fucking funny.

Doubling over 'til my forehead drops over onto the bar counter, my shoulders shake with the effort to keep it quieted down to helpless wheezes. "Dude, you're walking around like she fuckin' gutted you. It's not that bad."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean watched, veins in his forehead ticking ever fuller with each wheeze from Neil's mouth. "The hell it isn't!" he exploded when Neil finally managed to speak. "I was an ass virgin! Impalement probably starts out more comfortably!"

[little_moons]

They were wheezes before, but this is a burst of full-on belly laughter, my face beet red and my eyes watering. When I can finally breathe again, I say, as seriously as I can, "You kinda were impaled, if you think about it."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"I'm not thinking about it!" Except he kind of was, each and every time the backs of his thighs shifted against the stool. Dean grabbed the bottle and took a swallow right from the neck. "And neither are you! Never think about it, ever."

[little_moons]

"No," I say, lips pressing together against a grin and my brow twisting up in a parody of deep thought, "No, I'm definitely thinking about it."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean pressed his lips together in return, but it did nothing to stave off the impressive flood of red into his cheeks. "Well, stop," he said finally. "Man's asshole is his own business."

He took another swig, a petulant one this time, wiping a hand over his mouth after. "Could at least give me advice, what am I supposed to do, sit on a pillow the rest of the day?"

[little_moons]

I break out in a face-splitting, blindingly bright grin, and it's nothing but genuine. That blush is rare, and it's definitely worth all the effort to tease him.

"Pretty much," I say with a shrug, "She does it again, make sure she stretches you a little longer. And use some more lube." There were plenty of times I got roughed up on the job. I learned pretty quick just to deal with it.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"That doesn't help me now," Dean groused, lips stuck again around the bottle in a pout. "Besides. She was pretty....thorough. And what makes you think there's gonna be a round two?"

[little_moons]

"Dude, as long as she wasn't jabbing around in there, it shouldn't really be that big a deal this long after," I say in the same tone I might say, you're being a pussy. "Unless she just now fucked you in my yard."

And as for me assuming there'll be a round two? I pretty much fuckin' guarantee it.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Dude," Dean echoed, "did you just tell me to man up? Can't you just tell me I look different or something?" Chicks had it so much better. Oh, you're glowing. Oh, you look different. Oh, you're a woman now. Dean stopped himself before Angua somehow managed to hear his thoughts and came over just to smack them out of him.

He took a deep breath, and then another, and decided to man up just long enough to ask the question he'd been wondering about since it happened. "So is it, uh, always like that?"

[little_moons]

Looking at him with big doe-eyes, I practically, "Oh, honey. You're all grown up." Then, I arch a brow, a clear happy now? look on my face.

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, I say, "Does it always hurt? Yeah, sorta. That's kinda part of the whole experience or whatever."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Not...that," Dean said slowly, eyes shifting towards the door as if to remind himself that he still had an escape. "The other part. The good part."

[little_moons]

"Oh," I say, biting back a grin, and even I'm pretty fuckin' floored that we're even having this conversation, "Well, there's bad sex and there's good sex. That can be really fuckin' great sex. So, for the most part, yeah."

I guess that means she found his prostate. Way to go, Angua.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean grinned tentatively back. Later he might remember this conversation with embarrassment, but suddenly Dean was feeling good.

"Well hell," he said, smacking his hand down against the bar. "Never let it be said I'm a man who can't broaden his horizons. Guess I finally know what the fuss is all about."

[little_moons]

"I'd say maybe some day you'll graduate to a real one, but I think Angua might take offense," I say with a smirk, 'cause even if he's relaxing finally, that doesn't mean I'm gonna stop trying to make him squirm.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

It probably wouldn't have come out of his mouth had Neil's face not been so openly challenging, but Dean cocked his head around a smirk. "Guess we'll see what happens the next time she wakes up a dude, huh?"

Shit. He hadn't really considered that. It'd been fine when he was a girl, but damn. Two dudes was something different. Probably. Though it could be good. If it was her. Maybe. So long as she didn't try to manhandle him too bad. Though that'd been kind of fun.

Dean sat staring at the bottle, oblivious to Neil and everything else while the tiny gay crisis played out in his head.

[little_moons]

That's enough to shock even me a little bit, and there's a long moment where we're both staring off into space, and I have a feeling that if he knew just what's playing like a goddamn movie reel in my head right now, he'd kill me.

"Uh huh," I say distractedly, topping off his glass again and taking a swig from it without even thinking.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean came to some time around the vague remembrance of what Angua's dick had looked like during that first waking-up-with-the-wrong-parts debacle, eyes refocusing only to find Neil's gazing off into space.

"Dude!" he shouted. "Stop picturing it!"

[little_moons]

"Sorry!" I say with a burst of laughter, holding up my hands in surrender and grinning like a lunatic, "I can't fuckin' help it, man."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"You can," said Dean, pointing a finger, "and you better start. Just too...weird, otherwise." He picked up his glass, lips stuck around the rim. "Like my little freakin' brother, c'mon."

[little_moons]

"It's your own fault," I say, laughter quieting down so that when I say, "You're too young for me, anyway," it's with a completely straight face. Well, mostly.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean groaned, wishing Neil was within arm's reach and not behind the bar. Also, that he could move quickly enough to give him the wedgie he deserved. "If you start talking about my dad again I'm leaving."

[little_moons]

"Don't get me started on your dad and you won't have to try and get up," I counter, 'cause to me, that sounds pretty fucking fair. He doesn't look like he's in any mood to move any time soon.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"I hate you." Dean pushed a hand over his eyes, only noticing after that they were already swimming. At least he knew the whiskey was working - his ass ought to stop singing real soon. "You got any pie?"

[little_moons]

Coughing out a laugh, I say, "I'll go check."

I come back from the kitchen a few minutes later with a fork one last slice of apple pie still in the baking dish. There's no point in dirtying up a plate.

"It's your lucky day."