Destiel One-shots

Strippers, Sammy. We are on an actual case involving Strippers. Finally.

"NO." Dean said firmly.

"Oh come on," Sam whined. "It's not that big a deal."

"NO!" Dean repeated, even more firmly. Sam sighed.

The Winchesters and Cas were working a case in Illinois, and the boys had originally jumped at the case because, well, because it involved a strip club.

Neither of them admitted that their interest hadn't dwindled when they found out it was a male strip club.  

There was some sort of vengeful spirit going around the club and attacking the dancers, but they weren't sure what the motive was, seeing as the dancers used fake names and they couldn't figure out who the men really were. So Sam got the idea when he spotted a Help Wanted sign outside the club; one of them should go undercover as a stripper and figure out what was going on.

Sam was obviously out of the picture- they were trying to blend in, and a 6 foot 4 guy with long hair wasn't exactly inconspicuous. But Dean refused to volunteer for the job.

"Make Cas do it!" He declared. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, I don't think Cas even knows what a stripper is."

"Sure he does- Cas!" Dean called. The angel's shot over to him.

"Yes?" He asked.

"What's a stripper?" Cas blinked.

"I believe it's a tool used for stripping the paint off of walls," He began.

"Case and point." Sam proclaimed. "It's got to be you."

"No." Dean rejected.

"Why not?"

"I'm not a whore, Samuel."

"Strippers aren't whores, necessarily."

"I'm not going to show up in my underwear and dance on a pole for a case or for anything else."

"Wimp."

"I'm not a wimp- I just have class, something you'll never know."

"Dean is a very classy lady," Cas agreed. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dude, just do it. Don't make this weirder then it has to be." Dean glared at his brother.

"Fine." He grumbled. "I'll do it for strippers, and no one else."

"Whatever you say, Dean."

****

Sam would never admit that he purposefully took longer on the case because it was hilarious to watch Dean squirm about being a stripper. 

The moose thought he had the case narrowed down to a few suspects, so he and Cas headed to the strip club to check up on Dean.

"I don't like these places," Cas insisted, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

"I know," Sam offered, scanning the room. The club was packed with people. There was a bachelorette party in one corner, some more girls, and a few guys scattered around, wolf whistling as barely dressed men waitered the tables and danced on the stage.  

But then the main dancer on stage left, and a guy from the DJ booth started talking. 

"Let's hear it for six pack!" He called out, and the crowd cheered. Cas frowned.

"Why is his name Six-pack?" He questioned.

"The dancers use fake names to sound more appealing or seductive," Sam explained. "Usually they get to pick them."

"AAaaaaand now," The DJ booth guy went on. "Introducing our newest dancer to the stage- Springsteen!" 

Sam burst out laughing. There was only one man who would dare to have his stripper name be a shout out to Bruce Springsteen.

"I found Dean," Cas said proudly, his head turned towards the stage as music started. "Wait...."

Sam didn't dare look towards the stage. He'd been traumatized enough in his lifetime. Instead, he took one look at Cas's face and cackled with laughter. 

This was the best case they'd had in years.

Sam dug out his wallet and handed Cas a bunch of singles.

"Go get 'em tiger." He advised.

"But- what-" Cas looked so confused, and yet he never removed his eyes from the stage, where Dean was dancing.

"You walk up to him," Sam explained. "And maybe, if he lets you, you can stick your cash in whatever's he's wearing."

"That is highly inappropriate."

"It's a strip club, Cas. Pretty much anything goes." 

He expected Cas to be more hesitant, but instead the angel had darted towards the stage. Sam was left howling with laughter, trying to regain control enough to call Gabriel, because this was just too good to not share.

In the meantime, Cas made his way up to the front of the stage, his eyes wide. 

While he had no idea where Dean had learned these...elaborate dance moves, he certainly wasn't about to complain. 

He rather enjoyed them, if he was being honest.

Dean spotted him and made his way closer.

"Meet me in the back when I'm done," Dean muttered, and Cas figured he wanted to talk about the case, but he also didn't come over hear because of the case. Instead he held up a dollar bill, grinning wickedly. Dean smirked and took the bill.

Cas gave him all the bills, one way or another. It was strange to see Dean dancing like this, but he liked it. 

He liked it a lot.

And since Cas was an awkward, innocent puppy, Sam decided to do them a favor.

"How much do you guys do for private sessions?" He asked one of the waiters.

"hundred bucks," The waiter offered. Sam handed him the bill and pointed at Cas. 

"Do my awkward friend a solid and get him a session with Springsteen, would you?"

"Sure thing."

And Sam sat back and let his work unfold, texting Charlie and Gabe, because this was the best and funniest shit that he'd experienced in a while.

*****

They got rid of the vengeful spirit, naturally, and Dean was more then happy to stop stripping and go back to being classy.

But every now and then, Sam would burst out laughing because of it, especially when Cas would walk into the kitchen, wink at Dean, and say "Hey Springsteen."