Dean noticed the way she kissed him, becoming a bit interested in why she was being so forward all of the sudden.  He didn’t press it, though, as she offered to allow him to help her with her clothes.  Smiling a bit brighter, he reached up for the waistband of her shorts, hooking his fingers in her underwear as he went, “The side of the tub isn’t super tall.  So, you should be able to prop your leg up there…”

He slowly and methodically pulled the shorts from her feet and tossed them into what was beginning to be a pile.  He then stood from her briefly, toeing out of his boots, and undressing himself, as he didn’t have any plans to miss out on using this posh tub.

Throwing his hoodie into the pile, he flexed his muscles for a second, trying to dull out the pain in his back and bent back down to her, lifting her into his arms, “I’m going to be as careful as I can…”

He placed his tongue between his teeth as he slowly lowered her into the tub, once they were in the small bathroom, leaving both her legs hanging over the side to fix how she liked them.  He then turned around, stepping back into the room long enough to grab the cart, and rolled it in behind him, “And we can’t forget the beer…”

He pulled two beers from the bucket, setting them on the side of the tub, and then stepped in with a small splash.  He popped the tops on the beers, and leaned forward while waggling his eyebrows, handing one to her.

———-

Dean woke up from what was either too short of a nap, or an alcohol induced sleep.  Judging by how drunk he still felt, he assumed it was the latter.  He smirked at the flashing memories from earlier, looking down at his chest to find Mika sleeping.  Despite their injuries, the night had gone like many with them, and alcohol.

He carefully slipped out from under Mika’s arm, quickly grabbing the robe that he had dropped on the floor earlier in the night and wrapping it around his body.  In his alcohol induced fever dream, he had a strong urge to check in on the note from earlier.  He would feel rude if he didn’t at least explain to the woman that he wasn’t interested.  Yet, he also should have known that being drunk, and doing so was a bad idea, as well.  He had most definitely drank more of the beers than Mika.

Concierge had brung their clothes back, earlier in the night.  He only remembered because he was forced to give them a bit of extra money, to keep them from reporting him answering the door naked.  The clothes were even folded, which made the place look even more fancy.  

He lazily reached for a pair of jeans, a plain green t-shirt and a white flannel shirt, before stealing his belt from his other pair of jeans.  His attempts to stay quiet were made difficult by his efforts to get into a clean pair of jeans while intoxicated, but he finally managed to do so…even tying his own boots.  Without grabbing a key card, Dean left the room and walked down the hall, to the elevator.

While inside the elevator, he went over and over the speech in his mind, trying to remember how to turn down a woman.  However, as he stepped off the elevator, Raven was seated on a sofa nearby, in the bar.  It was as if she was waiting patiently for him to come down stairs, which struck him as odd.  She happily stood from the sofa, and stepped over to him.

“Hey, there…stranger.”, she purred at him.  He raised his eyebrows, noticing that shew as now in a cocktail dress and heels, instead of her uniform that he had seen her in earlier.

“Um.  Hi.  You left me a note…and um…about that…”, he started, nervously as she linked her thumbs in two of his belt loops, “Um.  I’m not alone.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were alone, did I?  You came.”, she said plainly, pulling him down a small hallway, and onto another sofa.  None of the workers that passed them seemed surprised by her aggression, even seeming like they saw this often, with her.  She quickly straddled his waist, and locked them into a kiss.  It wasn’t in Dean’s nature not to kiss back, especially while drunk and stressed.  Involuntarily, he tangled his fingers in her hair, even though his brain was screaming at him that this was bad, and this would end…badly.

But she was kissing him.  And she was pushing his shirt up.  What was he supposed to do?  His brain was so confused that it felt on fire, as her hands ended up on his belt, an action that caused his hand to instinctively grab her wrist firmly.

“There’s the line…”, she whispered, biting his lip roughly as she pulled back from him for air, “Not everyone is comfortable in public.  It’s okay.  You’ll get over that with me.”