Derpy Hooves doesn't know what went wrong. (what_went_wrong) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-06-02 00:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, derpy hooves, sam winchester |
Who: Derpy Hooves and Sam Winchester
When: Night Time, week of May 28
Where: Deryn’s place
What: Sam wants to see his girl
Rating/Warnings: pg 13
Status: Complete
Sam had some clients in from out of town, and he was showing them a nice time. He’d had a couple of drinks with them before putting them into a cab and sending them back to their hotel. Then he bumped into a prosecutor that he’d had business with, and they had a couple of drinks, too. By the end of the night (which was still fairly early, something around nine?) he was in a cab on his way to Deryn’s house.
He knocked on the door, leaning heavily on the frame. His shirt was partially untucked, his tie loose, and the top button unbuttoned, but he was still in his suit. Wearing a soft grin at the idea of seeing her face.
Having not been expecting company, Deryn opened her door wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of men’s boxer shorts. There was also a little blue parakeet sitting on the top of her head. “Ooh, Sam! Hi! Come in!” With a bright smile, she ushered him through the door and closed it quickly behind them -- she didn’t want Mr. Spock to fly away.
Sam definitely didn’t want Mr. Spock to fly away, either. Well, he didn’t care so long as the bird didn’t run away forever. Once he was inside, he wrapped his arms around Deryn and lifted her into a huge bear hug. “I missed you.” Even though he saw her like, yesterday.
Deryn let out a peal of laughter, hugging him back tightly even as Mr. Spock decided he wanted nothing to do with this shit and flew back to his cage. “You too!” she said, but then scrunched up her nose, in amusement. “You smell like beer Sam! Are you drunk?” She wasn’t really judging so much as surprised.
Oh, he probably smelled like scotch, too. The good stuff. Top shelf, or whatever. “What? Me? Drunk?” Sam asked, then dipped his head down to kiss her, still holding her tightly in his arms. “Okay, maybe a little.” He said. She was like a breath of fresh air. She made him feel absolutely fantastic. “I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?
That made her giggle some more between kisses and tip toeing up for more of them. “No, I was just watching TV with Mr. Spock.” Not that the bird cared about tv. But it did like tiny pettings so there was that. “It’s nice you came over, though! Do you want a muffin?”
“Sure. I always want your muffins.” Innuendo for the win. Sam finally released her so she could get said muffins, and wandered farther into her apartment. He shrugged off his jacket as he went, looking over at Mr. Spock in his cage. “‘Sup, bird?” He asked, slurring his words. Sup. Sounded like something Dean might say.
“Can you close his cage if he’s in there?” Deryn yelled it from the kitchen even as she clattered about a bit loudly. Getting muffins was a quest! Mr. Spock, in question, just stared at Sam as if he was very unimpressed. For a bird.
“He’s in there!” Sam called out. He moved over to try and get the cage closed. Bah. This would take more manual dexterity than the drunken moose had at the moment. “...I’m just not... sure I can...” He called out, sounding a little frustrated. “You might have to help me on this one, De!” He moved to sit on the sofa. The door was half-latched on the bird cage.
Deryn returned with a plate of muffins and a large glass of milk. Her expression was one of curious amusement, focused on the latch on the cage, and then at Sam. “You’re adorable,” she said, because he totally was right now. She set the plate and glass down on the coffee table and then moved to shut the latch before flopping down on the couch next to him. “You okay?”
“I’m better than okay.” Sam said. He wrapped his arms around his amazing girlfriend, and tugged her into his lap. He was grinning and his words were slurred. “I love you.” He leaned in to kiss her. It was hungry and sloppy, and one of the most fun kisses in the world.
She didn’t disagree, since she was giggling into it the whole time. Practically in his lap now, she strung her arms over his shoulders and smiled brightly. “Love you too!” Because she did. “What made you think to come here?”
"I wanted to see you," Sam said, his hands wandering over her form. She was soft and warm and oh, so womanly. "I think about you a lot, you know. Pretty much all the time."
“Do you?” She leaned back a little to look him in the eye, eyebrows raised. Her smile never faltered for a second. “That’s nice of you. I think of you a lot too.” She liked Sam. A lot. Even when he was weird, and drunk and very tall. Well. He was always tall.
“I do.” Sam responded, bending in to nuzzle into her neck. He was obviously a bit more affectionate now with the alcohol in his system, but he didn’t find that to be a problem. “Percy and Wilson are getting married,” he mumbled against her skin. He was a little nervous that she was going to start expecting things. Was there some sort of time table? The last thing in the world he wanted was some sort of ultimatum.
She reacted to that news with a little squeal of delight. “Ohmygosh! Really? That’s so cute!” It was possible that even with all the nuzzling he was doing, the little blonde found the time and space to clap.
Sam thought she would find the time and space to clap even if she was wearing a straightjacket. He chuckled against her skin. "Do you think it's soon? They haven't been dating any longer than we have."
“Huh?” Deryn asked, leaning back a little from all the nuzzling to grab them both muffins, and settle one into Sam’s hand. Eat some starch, Sammy, it’ll help. “I dunno. Why would it be too soon?” She seemed honestly perplexed by the question.
"I dunno." He took a bit bite of muffin and chewed. It was gooooooood. Especially to his drunk taste buds. "Do you think we should be getting married?" This wasn't a proposal. He was trying to gage where she thought the relationship was, and where it was going. Of course, that might be better done sober.
She nibbled on her muffin as well, and was happily chewing when he asked that question. It couldn’t be helped: the tiny girl broke out in peals of laughter. “Why? Because your friends are?” Deryn seemed utterly bemused.
“I dunno,” Sam responded, quite seriously. Seriously for a drunk guy, chewing on a muffin, while his girlfriend laughed at him. “...everyone seems to be doing it.” He added it a bit quietly. Sheepishly, maybe? “I just don’t wait to fall short if you’re expecting me to... step up.” ...whatever that meant. He almost threw a baseball analogy in there, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe the scotch.
Everyone’s doing it. It reminded her of something her parents said: If everyone was going to go jump off a bridge, would you do it too? (The answer had always been varied, because sometimes Deryn thought it the bridge was low enough with deep water beneath, it might be quite fun. This wasn’t the point though.)
“Do you want to get married?” She asked instead, even as she finished off her muffin. AJ was going to have a field day with this one.
"Eventually." Sam said. It was true. He wanted to get married and have kids, white picket fence, all that. Even though he had some worries about his past coming back to haunt him--fears he might not be a great dad because of the childhood he'd had. He'd been ready to ask Jess to marry him before the fire. That felt like such a long time ago. "Do you?"
Deryn shrugged. “Maybe some day,” she replied with a softer, kinder sort of smile. “Not now. Definitely not because your friends want to. I’m happy with how things are. Isn’t that enough?” For all of her giggles and smiles and neon band-aids, Deryn was rather the kind of girl who had herself together pretty well. She was happy. She liked doing what she did. There was no reason to rock any boats with extreme changes just for the sake of trying to ‘keep up’.
“That’s enough.” Sam said. Then, as if to emphasize that point, he leaned in and kissed her. Sloppy, hungry, drunk. It was enough for him. He just wanted to make sure that it was enough for her, too.
If it wasn’t, she probably would have said so. But this was easy and fun and they liked each other -- what more could a girl want? She giggled into his kiss, but returned it all the same until she had to pull back and breathe -- and then was unapologetic about wiping her mouth off. Sam’s drunken kisses were a bit wetter than normal.
Sam gave a little sigh, leaning them both back against the couch cushions. His eyes fell closed, even though he wanted to stay awake. “Can I just hold you like this?” He asked. The alcohol was making him sleepy, and having her wrapped in his arms wasn’t helping.
“No.” Deryn sounded very sure about that, and it might have sounded a bit shocking, right up until she thought to continue along with her train of thought. “But you can once we go to the bedroom.”