𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 - Dean Winchester (1)

━ xxxiii

"Can I come in?" he gently asked.

Venus stepped back from the door, silently gesturing for him to enter.

Dean took slow steps into the room, hands awkwardly shoved in his pants pockets. "I was gonna go find a bar nearby or something but I wanted to check in on you first."

Venus closed the door with a sigh, folding her arms into her chest. She watched him as he hesitantly took a seat on her bed, looking up at her with the most concern she'd seen in his eyes in a while. "I'm fine," she told him.

"No, you're not."

Venus clenched her jaw. She shouldn't have opened the damn door...

"You know," Dean started, "These past few months you've been hellbent on helping everybody, trying to get us to open up and talk about our feelings. And when the tables turn it's what...radio silence?"

Venus took in his words for a moment, nodding to herself. But then she began to take small steps over to Dean, unzipping her hoodie as she did. "You want to help me, Dean?" she asked, tone stern. Dean's eyes followed her every move. "You want me to tell you how I'm feeling?" she came to a stop by where he sat and carefully straddled him, holding his stare the entire time, "Well, that's too bad, cause I don't want to talk," her voice lowered to a whisper. She discarded her hoodie on the floor somewhere unseen, turning to Dean. "Do you still want to talk?"

Dean's jaw clenched. "Yes. I, uh, think we should talk about what's bothering you," he said, every word coming out strangled.

Venus laughed in his face, without shame. The sound sent shivers down Dean's spine. "Look who's talking, huh?" she replied, holding his face in her hands.

"Venus," Dean said her name as a warning more than anything else. Yet his hands were slowly roaming up her thighs, the thin shorts she wore giving him a lot more access than was wise for his self-control.

"Dean," she cooed, pressing a sweet kiss to the underside of his jaw, "If you're not gonna sleep with me then I'm sure I can find someone else–"

Venus was promptly quieted by Dean surging forward and connecting their mouths in a hungry kiss. She happily obliged, using her grip on his face to pull his body flush against hers. She began a steady rhythm of rocking in his lap, feeling just how eager he was.

Dean grunted at the new source of friction, reluctantly pulling his lips away from her. "This isn't gonna make your problems go away," he tried to reason, now breathless. He obviously chose the wrong time to be the bigger person.

Venus shrugged. "Sure it is," she disagreed, leaning back to pull her shirt off.

"Oh God," Dean muttered to himself upon seeing that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"You wanted friends with benefits, right? Well, I'm cashing in on the benefits this time, Winchester," Venus said, her tone slightly bitter. 

Dean's attention was still on her chest, she noticed. So she grabbed his face and brought his dilated eyes up to meet hers. "We doing this or what?" she asked.

"You bet your ass we are."

So she leaned in to connect their lips, closing her eyes and getting lost in the taste of him, the faint remnant of her earlier sips of beer getting mixed in. Somewhere along the way Dean pulled off his shirt and tried to use his grip on her waist to flip her onto the bed. But she used her knees to keep him in place. "Nuh-uh," she hummed, reaching for his belt buckle, "We're staying right here."

Dean smirked up at her. "The only thing that could make this more perfect is if you were wearing a cowboy hat or something," he joked.

"You are so weird," Venus playfully rolled her eyes, reaching her hands down to unbuckle his jeans.