(no subject)

[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.