Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, OMC
Word Count: 1600
Warnings: mention of dub-con, outsiders POV
Author’s Note: I hope you have a wonderful Christmas bb! I took one of your outsiders POV prompts and sort of ran with it. I hope you like it J
Summary: Mike is enamored with the man who sits at his bar. Little did he know, this man comes attached with something else.
The snow is coming down hard outside Mike’s Bar in Rochester, Minnesota. All of the patrons are dressed in heavy jackets and warm scarfs as they hurriedly knocked back amber colored shots to warm their insides.
The crowd is the normal for a Saturday night like this. Mike, the owner of said bar, is busy wiping down the bar top as he scans his bar.
He’s rather young and hasn’t been in the bar business for very long, which often surprises his newcomers when they enter and see a young, handsome man passing out shots while ordering his employees around.
Mike knows that he’s good looking; he interacts with enough people and has slept with enough people in his lifetime to know he has charm.
This is why the guy sitting at the last bar stool confuses him.
“Want another one buddy?” Mike offers softly, noticing the guy is staring at his empty glass.
He watches as the man flicks his eyes up and peers at him. The guys stare goes straight to Mike’s cock in an instant. It makes him pause and swallow audibly.
“Yeah, I guess so.” The man husks out. It’s the sexiest thing Mike’s heard in a long time.
Mike maybe hasn’t gotten laid in a little while, so the man sitting at his bar looking this sexy shouldn’t be fair; especially, when he hasn’t responded to any of Mike’s advances yet.
“Tough day?” Mike offers hoping a little conversation will seem to warm the icy look in the man’s eyes.
The man laughs, a soft rumble coming deep from his chest. Mike’s knees go weak, he holds onto the bar for support and watches as the man’s eyes twinkle a little with mischief.
“You have no idea.” Mike refills his shot glass and pulls up a stool behind the bar.
“Oh yeah? Try me then.”
The man stares at him, gauging whether it was okay to talk to him. He watched as the man’s hand tensed on the shot glass before tipping the glass back and drinking it in one gulp.
“I had a fight with someone…someone close to me.”
“Girlfriend?” Mike offers, hoping the answer is no.
The man shakes his head. “No, my brother.”
Mike’s smile droops. He was hoping it would be another case of broken heart that Mike could fix with his dick. “So what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I-I made him so mad at me. I don’t know if I can even fix what I’ve done.” The man, which Mike really wishes he could stop calling him man and find out what this hunks name really is, said. However, Mike got good at reading people and he could tell that this man really needed someone to listen. Not someone who will badger him with personal questions.
“It can’t be that bad man. Brothers fight all the time I’m sure yours will get over it.”
The man laughs but it’s not like earlier, it sounds hollow and empty. It makes Mike’s heart hurt at the sound. Someone this strikingly beautiful shouldn’t laugh like that.
“You don’t know my brother man. The way he looked at me…” Mike watches him swallow, a haunted look in his eyes. Mike thinks maybe this so called brother is crazy or at least violent. The look in the man’s eyes doesn’t speak of a simple, sorry I borrowed money and didn’t pay you back, sort of normal brother situation.
No, his eyes speak of pure anguish and panic.
“Hey now,” Mike says softly, he lightly touches the guys hand and notes how cold it feels. “What are you scared of?”
The man quickly slips his hand free from Mike’s and sets them in his lap. “I’m scared I’m going to lose him.”
“Lose him to what?”
The bar’s door bangs loudly making the young man jump. Mike notices how glassy the man’s eyes have gotten and doesn’t want him attempting to drive or walk home in this weather. Or go back to a crazy, psycho brother.
“Hey why don’t you come back to my house huh? It’s just above the bar.” Mike attempts to sound sincere and genuine. He doesn’t want the guy to know he really wants to get him stripped naked in his bed.
“I don’t think so man.” The guy shakes his head, and stands up, he’s wobbly on his feet and he has to hold onto the bar before he falls down.
“Aw, come on,” Mike presses. He steps from behind the bar and lays his heavy arm across the man’s shoulders. “I’m sure you would like it.”
The man is too drunk to respond or even coordinate his limbs right. Mike uses this to his advantage to steer the man outside into the snowy weather. The man instantly begins to shiver because he left his jacket inside the bar but Mike plows on to the back of the bar where the entrance for his apartment is.
“I don’t want this.” The man mumbles, digging his feet into the snow which makes it difficult for Mike to continue walking.
“Come on, what’s the harm in it huh? Would you rather go back to that psycho brother of yours?”
“Maybe you should ask the psycho brother.”
Mike jumps, his arm quickly detangling from around the man’s shoulders. He watches as the man sways for a bit before the other guy rights him and does a quick once over.
Mike isn’t prepared for the pair of steely eyes that shoot his way.
“What the fuck do you think you were trying to do with my brother?”
Mike stammers not truly answering anything. He begins to back up until his feet hit the metal lid of a trashcan and he trips. The snow is a harsh, solid reminder of the shit Mike has just gotten into. “Lo-Look man! I-I don’t want any trouble! Honest! He wanted to come back with me.” Mike waves his hands hurriedly back and forth trying to please the bigger man.
The snow begins to pick up making it harder for Mike to see the two men in front of him. Before he knows it he’s being hauled up by his collar. He chokes before the air is slammed out of him when he impacts with the brick wall of his bar.
Before he even has time to think the man’s face is right next to his, the grip on his shirt tightens and threatens to choke him again. Mike wheezes and scrambles at the hands that are currently holding him hostage. “Pl-ez…” Mike wheezes.
“Don’t ever touch my brother again.” The man emphasizes with a small shove. Mike drops down onto his knees and coughs as he tries to gulp in air.
He thinks that’s the last of it when he watches the two guys disappear; however, a pair of boots come into his vision while he’s kneeling on the ground.
He looks up terrified of what he might see. But what he sees instead confuses him. The man who just assaulted Mike is tenderly rubbing his hand across the other guys face.
Mike watches in amazement as the man then dips down and presses a quick kiss to the man’s lips.
It takes Mike a quick second before he’s remembering that these two are brothers. “What the fuck?” Mike whispers before he can conceal himself.
Upon noticing that Mike has regained his sense the same guy from earlier bends downs again, a menacing look upon his face. The hot ass from early is watching him as well the same look of disgust on his face.
The irony kills Mike before the guy is whispering to him. “You better watch yourself out here. There’s a lot to be afraid of, but if you ever try and lay a hand on my brother again you’ll only have me to worry about.”
Mike’s lost for words, his jeans are soaked through from the snow and his hands have long since gone numb. He’s trying to figure out what he just saw when he watches the two walk away.
“Come on Sammy.” The man who assaulted Mike says, opening his arm up and letting the taller men settle underneath it.
‘Sammy’ Mike thinks softly. He blinks a few times trying to keep the image of ‘Sammy’ and his brother in his view but the snow makes it impossible.
The next night during his shift, Mike is sporting colorful bruises along his neck and down his back. His patrons ask if his date got kinky last night which Mike laughs with them to keep the banter going.
He doesn’t admit to them what he witnessed last night. He doesn’t think he can even produce the words to explain what he saw.
When it’s almost closing time and only a few single patrons are left playing pool, Mike begins his routine of wiping down his bar and all the stools. His back is so sore that it’s making the chore seem almost impossible.
The bar’s doors bang open which makes Mike think the last of his patrons have finally left for the night.
He’s so busy with wiping down the bar that he doesn’t notice another presence has entered the bar, or that that presence has come up behind him.
Before Mike knows it something heavy collides with the back of his skull and he’s falling forward like a rock. He bashes his head on the bar before settling down between the stools and the bar. Mike groans as he tries to regain his senses.
He’s hears voices in his pain filled haze, he can feel blood begin to trickle from the gash on his forehead from his encounter with the bar.. He opens his eyes but they don’t seem to be working properly. Everything is blurry and dark. “Wha…”
He watches as two figures ransack his cash register. He tries to get a good look at the two but the only thing he notices is black boots.
Terror begins to crawl up his spine when those boots enter his peripheral. The man bends down and Mike is helpless to do anything but wait in anticipation.
When pain doesn’t come Mike opens his eyes.
“Don’t ever fuck with a Winchester.”
Before Mike can even take in a breath another heavy hit is assaulting his skull and he doesn’t see anymore.