Chapter 2

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"...Did I do something? Say even?" your voice was barely above a whisper and Dean felt his knees almost give away at the look on your face.

"No, no. It's fine. You- you didn't-" he couldn't complete an entire sentence without feeling his heart beating so fast and so hard inside his chest. He almost felt dizzy. This hadn't happened even in his wildest dreams.

"Oh... alright. Then-" you rubbed your arm, Dean's eyes casting to your wrist, curious and greedy to see his name there, but couldn't very clearly.

"Would you like to... talk a little then? And have a beer maybe?" you asked so shyly that Dean found it impossible to not grab you and envelope you in his arms right then and there.

"Sounds great." he breathed out, for the first time in so long a smile that reached his eyes appeared.

Both of you stood like that for a second, you biting your lip and looking at him and him doing the same thing. Only his gaze was more intense, making you avert your eyes from second to second. You raised an eyebrow for a second, Dean frowning for a little while, until realization downed on him.

"Oh. Oh." he blinked, feeling a... blush creeping up his neck?

"I'll be right back." he hurried to say, almost running out of the room because he didn't want to let you realize anything.

He had already started feeling all those symptoms he had heard Sam talk about. He wanted to say he didn't mind it or like it but truth was... he did, in a way. But now he was too scared to think of anything else. It was all so new to him, and at knowing you more, he had started to realize how deep they were.


He took his sweet time. More so than that, actually. But he couldn't help it. He was panicking, hard. Never in so long had he ever thought he was going to meet you. He'd hoped about it, secretly, because he wouldn't dare admit it even to himself that he needed you. Desperately. Let alone anybody else. He played tough in front of Sam, almost like he didn't believe in this kinds of stuff. That it was not going to be like it was for him and Jess because, well, he was Dean Winchester. Sam and Jess fell in love and he, Dean, just didn't do love.

Not until now.

He panicked for a second, feeling a lump on his throat as he stared down at the beers he had just gotten out of the fridge. He couldn't move a single muscle, even if his mind screamed for him to do so- along with the rest of his body- to be close to you. But this was big, beyond that, and Dean just needed some time to himself. Millions of thoughts were running through his mind making him feel almost a little dizzy. He gripped on the kitchen counter tightly to steady himself. He closed his eyes for a second to calm his wildly beating heart. A small smile, almost of disbelief, formed on his lips. Atrembling sigh left his lips as it turned into a grin.

And he felt so stupid. Like a love-struck teenager thinking about their crush. He could now clearly understand what Sam meant when he talked about Jess. He was feeling all of it now with you, but there was no way he was going to let the younger brother know. He would never hear the end of it, although he already knew how happy Sam was for him.

And now- now he felt giddy, he wanted so bad to see the tattoo on your arm. His name there. He had imagined it so many times. Him running his fingers over it after hours and hours of love making, showing you how desperate he was for you to hold you, kiss you, love you and cherish you like you were the most important treasure he'd ever had. A warm feeling spread inside him and he wanted to laugh at himself. He felt his stomach tie into knots and an itching feeling to suddenly make all those fantazies true. All of them. Because he had thought of it, all of it with every single detail.

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