Lullaby |Dean Winchester|

Chapter 36: Puke Face Gets a Hand Job

As we slid into Stanley's front seats, the leather squeaking beneath us, I turned over the engine at the same time I blasted the radio. Each song was a gentle calm washing over me, a buffer made from a melody. After a while, Sweet Child 'o Mine burst forth from the speakers and washed over us. The music lulled me into a small sense of comfort, and I hummed along softly to it. It wasn't until the song was halfway over that Dean reached out a hand to turn it down.

"What the hell, Winchester? Don't touch the radio." My annoyance was blatant as I knocked his hand away- sparks igniting up my arm- and went to turn it back up.

His words, however, stopped my hand on the volume knob. "This is the first song we ever danced to."

I swallowed loudly. "So?"

"That was the first time I almost kissed you."

The car was suddenly 15 degrees warmer and my cheeks must have been a brilliant red. "Oh?"

"And then again when we were pressed up against that sign in the future. Before my future self kidnapped me." There wasn't a weapon in my hand, so all I could do to fidget was to bite my lip anxiously. Why was he talking about this? What good was there in bringing this up? "And those few weeks apart, after we got separated, all I could think about was why I hadn't kissed you when I had the chance."

Pulling in front of my future inn, I threw the car into park and turned to face him. His gaze was already on me. "What are you getting at, Dean?"

Silence and tension grew in the space between us. "What I'm getting at is that I've spent the better part of this last year wishing I could kiss you." Subconsciously, I licked my lips, watching as his eyes darted down to watch me. "I don't want to spend whatever time I have left wishing the same thing."

I took a shaky breath, tearing my eyes from his. "I need to pack."

We got out of the car and made our way inside. The grass muffled our walk up to the steps, and still no words were said as I unbolted the many locks on the door. I was quick to kick off my shoes, trying to get to my room to think alone for a moment, but Dean was hot on my heels. In fact, he was so close that I could smell the gunpowder and mint on him that I'd been avoiding for weeks. Finally stepping into my room, I didn't even bother trying to keep him out. Rather, I just let him follow me in, watching as I began grabbing clothes and throwing them onto the bed.

"That night you showed me the photo albums," my hand paused on a hanger at his words, mimicking my actions in the car. How did he always know exactly how to catch me? How did he know how to stop me in my tracks with only a few words? "I think that was the first night a part of me realized I loved you. I didn't know what it was at the time, but that was the first time I knew it was something more. I loved you then, Andy." The floor boards creaked as he walked closer to me. "I love you now." A tear fell, soft and silent as I tried to hold myself together. "Please, Bubbles. Say something."

The electricity from the hand he laid on my shoulder was enough to jump start me. I whirled you face him, looking up at him with as little emotion as I could. "You hurt me, Dean."

He closed his eyes, hiding their beautiful green hue if only for a moment. "I know. I got scared and I gave up. I'm so sorry. If I could change it, I would." He took a deep breath, opening his eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "But you hurt me, too." I bit my lip, looking at him in such a vulnerable state and drinking it in like whiskey. It was intoxicating to see his honesty.