"Look, Y/N, I hate this as much as the next guy, but we don't exactly have a choice, so can we at least enjoy the good that came out of this?"
"Good? Dean, we're barred from hunting until Sam figures out how to get our names and faces off the top of the most wanted list of demons, angels, and humans alike. What good came out of that!? You really think I'll last until that long in some random ass cabin 30 miles from the nearest bar!? I don't think so. You're the same too Dean I don't know why you're so okay with this!" Y/n rested her head against Baby's passenger side window, arms crossed over her chest in a show of frustration. She watched the snow blow wildly outside, sending shivers down her spine at just the thought of the cold. Her expression read pure anger as Dean looked over from the driver's side, gripping the steering wheel tighter for a fraction of a second to ground himself before replying.
"Just... Think of it as a mini-vacation. There'll be a tv, and I'm pretty sure there's a hot tub, and a full pantry, and probably a topped up liquor cabinet."
He glanced at her, in hopes that his list of pros made for the cabin they were being forced to stay in for the foreseeable future, would cheer her up. Alas, no such luck, as she threw her head to her left shoulder with an unamused look.
"Who'd you say the cabin belongs to?"
"Some neighbour of Bobby's. No one'll even think to look there."
"This is stupid. I could be helping Sam right now but instead, I'm stuck in this stupid car with a stupid destination and a stupid partner, spending a stupid amount of time in a stupid cabin! All I wanna do is kill some stupid monsters! Is that really too much to ask? Do you know what I want for Christmas since it's only a couple of weeks away? I want out! I want to go back to when I didn't have to worry about who recognizes my face. Back to when all I had to do was kill bad guys. I want to go back to when it was just me my sawed-off!" Her words grew louder with every syllable.
Dean didn't know what to say. Her outburst had taken him by surprise. From what Dean gathered of their relationship, Y/N was far from his biggest fan. They rarely spoke to each other, other than the basics but they weren't friends per-say. Y/N was Sam's friend. Those two got along like peanut butter and jelly and as much as Dean hated that, he was happy she had someone. So Dean got used to her never talking to him and when she did, doing so meanly. Not intentionally mean just not friendly towards him. And as much as the jealousy pricked at him when he saw her happy around Sam — let alone anyone — he was glad she hated him because he knew that if she were nice, his little crush would inevitably grow to be more. And that was the last thing he wanted.
"You don't really mean that, do you? You wouldn't - wouldn't leave us? Leave Sam?"
"It's not like I have much of a choice right now do I? I leave this cabin and I might as well be signing my own death certificate. So instead, I'm stuck with you."
"Ye-yeah, you said that already."
"Are we almost there? I want to get out and stretch my legs already."
"Don't worry Y/N, we should only be a couple of dozen miles out."
Y/N turned back to the window letting her eye follow stray snowflakes. She was furious at her situation but still understood that it had to happen. She stayed silent, no longer in the mood for burning the energy it took to talk.
Every so often the fog ahead and clouds would begin glowing, indicating oncoming traffic, urging Dean to turn off his high beams.
"Baby's not stupid by the way."
"What?"
"You called her stupid when you were ranting. And she's not."
"Nothing I called stupid is actually stupid Dean. Well, apart from the monsters, and this situation really."
"None of it?"
"No."
"Because you called me stupid."
"You're not stupid Dean. Frustrating, yes, but never stupid." She hadn't looked away from the window as she clarified her earlier words.
"You know, you might actually like it there. From the description, it's really beautiful and—"
"Dean?"
"Yeah?" To a spectator, the hope in his voice would break their heart, seeing that all he wanted to do was talk to her and make her happy.
"Stop talking." Those words shattered that hope, as to be expected. He simply set his jaw and nodded slightly staring at the road in front of him.
The rest of the drive was made in silence. No music, no talking. The only sounds that remained was that of shallow breathing and the engine working to pull them from civilization.
Pulling up to the cabin, Y/N leaned forward over the dash looking up at the wood structure they'd be staying at.
"See? Not so bad, huh." Y/N didn't reply, hopping out of the car once it was in a park. She took a minute to take in the log home before spinning on her heels and walking, stuffing her hands in her pockets after zipping up her coat.
"Hey! Y/N, where are you going!"
"I'm taking a walk." Dean watched her as she left him behind. He closed the door before chasing after her.
"Hey," he said once he caught up. "Don't you think we should get our stuff in and maybe get a fire going before taking a walk Y/N?"
"Go for it. You're not coming with me anyway." Dean's pace slowed before he stopped. Crossing his arms over his chest, in hopes of conserving heat, he watched her walk for a few minutes, contemplating his options, before turning around and making his way back the fifty or so meters from the car he had come.
Dean gathered all the bags from the trunk before locking Baby up for the night and trucking his way through the snow to the front steps of the cabin. He dropped his bag on the ground to free up a hand while keeping Y/N in his grip to keep from setting it in any snow. Dean searched for longer than he'd have liked to for the key, said to be hidden under a wooden doorstop. Retrieving the key, he opened the door and turned on the first light switch he could reach lighting up the porch with a soft yellow light next to the door. The switch next to it was the second his cold finger slid over, at last, illuminating the entryway. He picked up his bag from the ground and stepped inside closing the door behind him. Dean set the bags down tidily next to each other taking in the interior. He untied his boots and made his way slowly deeper into the cabin. The cabin was stunning. Much nicer than Dean had pictured it, though Bobby's neighbours were a plastic surgeon and a magazine editor.
The ceilings stood tall with visible beams reaching across and Dean swore it was bigger on the inside. Down the short hallway, Dean hung his jacket in the closet and stuffed his boots in as well, peaking into the little room at the entrance. A boot room, filled with sleds and shovels and across the hall, a small office, though clearly rarely used. At the end of the hall was the rest of the cabin, funneling into a massive room with the kitchen to his current right. New appliances stood in the kitchen lined with a softwood finish. At the end of the counter was a bay window, filled with pillows next to a staircase leading up. In front of him sat the biggest fireplace Dean had ever seen, sending a surge of excitement through his body. In front of the fireplace was a couch big enough for six of him, that curved at the ends, creating a makeshift nest. Next to the fireplace was an amplifier and speakers on both sides of the fireplace with a record player and a vinyl collection under the amplifier. He walked his way around the cabin taking in the full pantry and liquor cabinet. He stopped at the pile of logs next to the fireplace and put a few in before striking his zippo on his jeans and crouching down, lighting the available kindling. The fire burned hot as he warmed his hands absorbing every detail of the place. Turning his head to the right he looked out the wall-to-wall window taking in the view. Staring up he found his way to the window chuckling to himself as saw what was on the balcony. Dean was pleased that he was right about the hot tub and was already making plans to use it. He looked out the windows noticing a river flowing, not quite frozen over yet, allowing for a spectacular view.
This, Dean though, is where he'd want to live if he ever retired from hunting.
"I mean look at this." He sighed. Dean put his hand to his stomach as it began grumbling.
"Yeah, me too big guy."
Y/N approached the cabin after her longer than intended walk. The sight before her was like something out of a hallmark movie. Any other girl, she thought to herself, would kill to be in her situation. Cabin in the woods right before Christmas with a man like Dean Winchester. Nothing to do other than spend time together watching movies. So why was she angry? And why was she taking it out on Dean? Then again, she took everything out on Dean.
The porch and stairs were lit up as she made her way to the door. She was better after her walk. It allowed her to cool off both literally and figuratively. She reached for the rustic doorknob, turning it and stepping in, her jaw went slack whilst her eyebrows shot up in awe. Y/N closed the door behind her not once taking her eye off the display before her. In an instant, Dean, quite literally, slid into view on the hardwood floor. She looked at him as he gauged her reaction, a smile on his face, clearly pleased with everything. His arms were out in a suggestive manner as though offering everything insight to her. And all she could conjure up is;
"Wow."
"I know right!" He nodded. Y/N kicked off her boots and slide off her now unnecessary coat, hanging it next to Dean's. She walked further in and with every step she took she grew more shocked.
"This place is insane."
"This pace is awesome." Dean replied, pleased that Y/N was speaking to him and not because she was angry. "I made some burgers if you're hungry. Oh! And I was right about the hot tub." The smile on his face was nearly brighter than any of the lights in this place. "Come on. Come sit. I know you haven't eaten since, like, two stops before getting here so you must be hungry." She looked from the room to him as he mentioned food. He was right, she hadn't eaten, and she was hungry. Her stomach began growling as the smell of burgers filled her nostrils. She didn't answer still taking in her environment and the fact that Dean had actually cooked for her.
"Look I know you hate me, but at least eat something, and then you can ignore me for as long as you want. Hell, ignore me now, but please eat."
"I don't hate you." She looked confused at first but her expression softened as she realizes that it was only natural, he thought she hated him. Truthfully, she treated him in such a way, he'd be foolish to think otherwise. Dean's smile had disappeared to form an unreadable expression. He almost looked ashamed for having uttered those words.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like—"
"It's fine, Dean. Really, I get it. I'd be surprised if you thought I didn't." The moment had gone from joyous and relived to suddenly tense. "I'm not hungry, Dean." Was all she said before walking back to grab her bag. "Have you called a room?" She asks walking past him to the stairs. He watched her.
"No. I was waiting for you." With that, she walked up the stairs and down the balcony hall to the furthest door before closing it behind her. He turns back to the island on which the burgers were and sat on a stool. He buried his face in his hands. Dean pushed his plate away before getting up and making his way to the couch. He sat in the middle, centre with the burning fire in front of him, and watched.
Y/N was content with the room she picked scanning over it, spotting initially the depth of the room; it was huge. In front of her was a king-sized bed with at least five pillows and a thick duvet. At the foot of the bed sat a wooden chest filled with spare blankets and pillows. She chuckled to herself softly.
"Right, like what's on the bed isn't enough."
At the end of the room was an arching window covering nearly the entirety of the wall and on both sidewalls, more windows. The room, similar to the rest of the cabin, had a high ceiling and beams stretching from one side to the other, effortlessly holding this whole other world Y/N found herself in together. To display how large the room was, in addition to there being a king-sized bed there were also two love seats near the window and a coffee table in front. Y/N admired the room a little longer noticing a fireplace as well before arranging her belonging in the wardrobe against the far wall. To the left of the wardrobe, Y/N noticed another door. Pushing it open she revealed a large bathroom with a lion foot tub and a stand-alone shower.
"How rich are these people. Seriously."
After a while, Y/N felt guilty for turning down Dean's burgers because she realizes she is indeed starving, but she didn't want to go down to eat for fear of Dean still being there. Like she hadn't hurt him enough now she turned down his burgers, which she knows are phenomenal, to eat whatever she can scrounge up. She waited a little longer before making her way out of her room, hoping Dean has made his way to his own room for the night. Yet there he was slumped on the couch watching the fire burn away at its last log. She took one step before the old wood floor creaked under her weight, alerting the Winchester to her presence. He spun around looking up to her with a look of hope, as misguided as it was.
"Hey..."
"Hey..."
"You okay?"
"Ye- yeah. I'm — fine, Dean."
"If you're hungry, the burgers are still on the counter. They're probably cold but I can warm up the patties."
Y/N descended the stairs slowly as Dean adjusts his position on the couch to better see her.
"You didn't eat?" She said after noticing both burgers were still on the kitchen island.
"Wasn't hungry." He shrugged. "Do you want me to warm 'em up?"
Without looking at him, instead taking in the things she'd missed about the cabin earlier, she shrugs. Dean instantly jumped into action going back to the previously discarded food and pulling out a frying pan from the dry rack next to the sink. He worked on reheating dinner while Y/N made her way around the room, looking out the window only to notice an empty corner on the opposite side of the cabin as the kitchen.
"What goes here?"
"Not sure. Been wondering about that myself. It's a pretty big space to be left unused."
"Yeah." Was all she said. She moved back to the kitchen sitting on one of the stools at the island, while Dean finishes plating the food.
"Order up." He said as he slid the burger in front of her. "You want something to drink?"
"No. That's okay."
"Okay." Dean made his way around the island pulling out the stool next to her and sitting down with his food. He watched her carefully to see if he'd overstepped by sitting next to her. She took a deep breath and reached for her food, taking an impressive bite. He smiled to himself before taking his own mouth full, stuffing in more than was chewable. He moaned as he tasted all the flavours in his mouth and closed his eyes cherishing the moment with his burger. When he started to chew, he looked to Y/N, who he now realized, was staring at him. He swallowed promptly.
"Sorry."
"No, no moan away, this burger certainly deserves it."
"Really?" He was more surprised with her comment than with the entire cabin. Y/N just chuckled and took another bite of her food.
"Mhm." She hummed good and long, mimicking Dean's moan.
Dean's mood was lifted by the compliment and stayed there for the rest of the meal.
Once finished Y/n and Dean put their dishes away.
"Look — Y/N I know this is nowhere near your idea of a good time and I'm the last person you want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with but — Will you tell me what I can do to maybe make this stay a little more pleasant for you? Like what do you and Sam do? Maybe I could do something like that. Make it a little less like a prison and more into the vacation it could be."
She didn't answer, standing still and glancing at him with pursed lips, before she made her way back to her room without so much as a good night. Hearing her door close Dean sat back on the couch with a glass of whiskey he'd poured and mutter to himself.
"Night sweetheart." Before downing his drink in one go. It didn't take long to pass out on the couch, only to be woken a few hours later by the freezing cold. He'd forgotten to add wood to the fire and was now shivering as he tried lighting his zippo, having to strike it a few times before it took. Dean watched silently as the fire grew, catching to the nearest and most dry of the fuel. He glanced at his watch, gathering that he still had a few hours, if he so desired, to get some shut-eye, which he desperately wanted. He grabbed his bag that still sat in the entrance and made his way up the stairs to the empty room. It was too dark and he was too tired to take in his surroundings, quickly pulling off his plaid shirt and grey t-shirt leaving him in jeans and socks. He pulled a clean shirt from his duffle bag, after resting it on a nearby chair, and tugged it over his head. He hands went to his belt buckle as he made his way to the large bed. Once unbuckled and unbuttoned, his jeans slid off his hips with ease catching at his knees before he kicked them down pulling his socks off after. Dean threw back the covers before face-planting on the mattress and pivoting on his stomach so his feet rested on the bed. Reaching for the blanket he buried his face in the pillows and curled into a ball in the middle of a king-sized mattress doing his damnedest to get warm. As his cocoon gathered heat, he fell asleep.
Dean woke up, sprawled across the bed, to the most mouth-watering smell he'd ever had the pleasure of being greeted with. Lifting his head from the pillow his face had been buried in, Dean took a moment to reorientated himself. The room was bigger in the daylight. Significantly bigger. He took notice of the fireplace at the end of the bed and what looked to be an add-on to the room allowing space for two recliners, massive window permitting the morning sun the stream in unforgivingly. He sat up letting his legs dangle off the edge as he found his mental footing. He slid off the mattress stretching as he made his way to his jeans before pulling them up his legs, essential doing in reverse what he had last night. With a shirt on his back, he moved to leave the room. As he reached for the door handle, he paused, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted another door. Curiously, Dean crossed the room and opened the door cautiously. Behind it, he finds a bathroom equipped fully with a shower and bathtub.
"Seriously, how rich are these people." He muttered to himself.
With a smirk he ran his fingers over the soft towels, gripping it before letting go and closing the door behind him.
As she plates the last of the pancakes, she hears the shower shut off and shortly after, a door opening. Dean came down the stairs in jeans and a t-shirt as per his usual attire, whilst Y/N stood at the counter in a similar outfit both sporting wool socks. She watched as Dean ran both hands through his damp hair multiple times, giving it some volume. He gave her a smile and she returned the gesture, though it doesn't reach her eyes. More so a smile of acknowledgment than anything else, but at least she didn't roll her eyes.
"Morning." He started.
"I made pancakes."
"I can see that. They woke me up. They smell really good."
"You can have some."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean otherwise they'll just go to waste."
Dean nodded, still smiling, and continued the conversation.
"Hey have you tried the showers here?" Y/N replied honestly with a nod.
"The water pressure is phenomenal."
"Yeah, it's pretty good."
"Pretty good? That was the most amazing shower I've ever had. I'm genuinely starting to think I died and went to heaven. This place is perfect."
"Well, I can tell you right now, this is not heaven."
"Right, of course — I just meant —" Dean was cut off by Y/N as she pushed a plate of pancakes towards him and placed a bottle of Aunt Jemima next to it.
"Thank you." Dean looked to her with a hopeful smile. Instead of replying or even acknowledging him she turned around and starting on the dishes.
"Are you not having any?" He asked as he looked to his towering plate of pancakes. There, easily, sat twelve on his plate and his mouth watered at the smell but he wouldn't start without Y/N.
"Already ate." Was all she said as she finished on the dishes.
"Okay." He took his first bite and his eyes shot open instantly. That just so happened to be when she looked at him.
"I added some flavours."
"No kidding these are magical!" He took another bite before he had even fully finished swallowing his first.
"Oh, okay good. You look like you didn't like it for a second there."
"M-mm" he hummed and he kept eating. Y/N began walking away as Dean asked how she slept, doing his best to make small talk, an attempt she quickly shot down with the shrug of her shoulders. Little did Dean know Y/N hadn't slept, instead, kicking herself like she did every night for the way she treated Dean. But why? Why treat him the way she does, even when she hated doing it. He had never done anything to deserve it and even more honourably, never showed interest in giving her a reason to treat him like this in the future. Anyone would cherish his friendship. Dean was the type of person to protect his friends so why didn't she do the same.
Y/N moved to the fireplace, adding some wood to it before sitting on the couch and watching it. When Dean finished his breakfast, he picked up a book from the counter. Flipping through the recipes in one of the many recipe books he spots a simple choc chip cookie recipe, bookmarked under easy.
"Hey, Y/N I found a recipe in this book that looks simple enough. We should have all the ingredients already in the cabin." He moved to the couch as she carelessly looked over her shoulder. "I figured it might be nice to — you know, take our minds off the current situation. There's a stereo by the fireplace and a whole bunch of old records. You could pick some music and we could bake?"
Dean knew he was taking a risk but suggesting they spend time together but he also knew Y/N's weakness was baking while listening to not just music but records. He'd seen her dance around in the kitchen enough times to know. His heart was pounding nervously as she stared at him.
Y/N was running through answers in her head. She could say no and break him down again, she could not answer and walk away again like she'd done so many times before and crush him, or she could say yes and act civilized, the only way she doesn't hurt him.
"I'm picking the music." She said as she got up and made her way to sit in front of the records.
"Yeah, yeah, of course, you pick some music I'll find the ingredients okay?" Dean was beyond excited and partly skipped his way around the kitchen picking out big mixing bowls and measuring cups — that is until the music started up.
"Hair rock? Really?"
"Oh no, trust me, I hate it more than you do but it's practically all they have. I mean other than Micheal Bublé Christmas even if it is the best-selling Christmas album in the world." She read off the label.
"Anything is better hair rock. Put it on." He looked to her waiting for her to make a comment at his demand even though he didn't mean for it to be demanding but instead, he saw her shrugging looking at the album cover. He watched, with a smile on his face, as she pulled out the red vinyl, hearing her whistle at the colour. He was giddy at the situation in front of him, and then he heard the music and burst out laughing. Y/N along with Dean. This was not what either of them listened to, even around the holidays but they were simply going to have to make due.
"Alright, that's what I'm talking about. Now. Cookie time."
Y/N walked over and sat on the stool facing Dean leaning over the counter.
"So, what's my job." Dean's back was to her before he spun around with the book in hand leaning on his elbows.
"You can—" He startled at their proximity, but she didn't pull back, simply waited for him to finish and so he smiled, in a hazy joy. Their eyes were locked and neither flinched, waiting for the other to do something. Dean's breathing got faster with every second that passed. Y/N raised her eyebrows suggestively, expecting direction on what job was hers. At least that's all her physical reaction was. In her head the idea of leaning forward fogged all coherent thought. She was holding her breath afraid of what would happen if she relaxed her tense muscles. She was stone, refusing to move. The record cracked as the song change, causing both to blink. Y/N leaned back taking a deep breath while Dean shook his head.
"Uhh— you — you can mix? If you want? Or I can mix and you can put ingredients in. It's up to you."
"Have you ever baked before, Dean?" She asked with a hint of a smirk on her face.
"Uh, no I can't say that have."
"You can mix, I'll measure."
"What you don't trust me with measuring?" He chuckled, his smile growing.
"No, I do, I just think you'll have more fun mixing. Trust me." She hopped off the stool and moved to the sink to wash her hands, followed by Dean, then made her way to the island to look at the recipe Dean had picked. She hovered over the book while Dean hovered over her, watching for her approval.
"You got a bowl?" She looked up to him over her shoulder and he nodded vigorously before turning to grip it off the other counter.
"K, you gotta put the dry ingredients in first so they mix well and then you can add the wet ones." Dean just kept nodding as Y/N made her way measuring out the dry ingredients and putting them in the bowl. Brown and white sugar, cinnamon, baking soda, salt, nutmeg, and flour all waiting to be mixed. Once all added, she looked at Dean, then to the bowl.
"You can mix now."
"Right, okay." He began looking for a utensil to stir the ingredients.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you looking for?"
"A big spoon." He said as he motioned in the air.
"Nuh-uh. If you wanna get the full experience you use your hands, Dean."
"Okay." She could see the excitement as his shoulders pushed back and the smile reappeared. He was bigger when he was happy, not hunched over or weighted down by his sorrows. He turned to the bowl but hesitated before sticking his hands in.
"So — so I just go for it. Just use my hand." She nodded a smirk on her face.
"Okay." With that he let his fingers slip into the assortment of powders. He chuckled softly as he made a fist around the ingredients. A few tosses in he started playing with it, drawing patterns in it and picking it up to feel it slide through his fingers. Without warning Y/N dropped a brick of butter into the bowl along with some vanilla and an egg, pulling shards of shell out of the mixture. Y/N reached over and delicately pulled the hard chip from the soft combination as Dean held his hands over the bowl.
"Keep mixing." She looked up at him. She smirks as Dean turned back to the bowl and started squishing the butter, picking the egg in his palm and shaking it before crushing it and watching it dribble down his finger and back into the bowl with a childish giggle. Dean keeps mixing until he's got a ball of dough lifting it to show Y/N with an open-mouthed grin, his tongue resting visibly on his teeth.
Y/N hummed along with the song and nodded, hopping off the stool she had moved to be next to Dean while he mixed. She measured three cups of quick oats and dumped them in the bowl as she now openly sings the lyrics to All I want for Christmas is you as Dean hummed. Once the oats were mixed in Y/N tells him he can scrape off his hands. Y/N grabs a spatula with a soft rubber tip.
"What about the chocolate chips? We aren't skipping those are we?"
"We are not, but trust me you don't want to mix that with your hands. They're not as soft as the rest of the ingredients. They'll hurt."
"Okay." Dean works at removing as much of the dough as he can using his hands but naturally it would just end up on his other. Y/N reached over with the spatula to graze over his hand but the lack of tension in his arm resulted in his hand being pushed down. Grabbing his wrist, Y/N sang along with the song while ridding Dean of the dough on his hands, unaware that it was taking everything in him not to shake from nervousness. Y/N, on the other hand, wanted to pull away instantly as she surprised herself with her action, but couldn't.
"K, you can wash your hands now. I'll add the chocolate chips. You wanna set the over to 300 degrees?" She looked to him to check if he'd heard her and the view suggested he might not have. Dean sucked on his fingers, smiling at her. As it hopped out of his mouth audibly, he answered.
"Okay."
"You're such a dork."
"You said I should get the full experience. And I'm pretty sure it's the law that you lick off your fingers, just like it's the law that you lick off the beater after making whipped cream."
"Alright, you've got a point." Y/N reached over to the oven setting it to the aforementioned temperature, chuckling. Y/N added the chocolate chips, stealing a few from the top to eat them as she spun them into the dough while Dean washed his hands. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her stand or her tiptoes, using her body as leverage for mixing.
"Cookie sheet."
"Uhh."
"Probably under the oven in that little drawer thing."
"Huh?"
"Right there." She kicked the bottom of the oven and Dean crouches down pulling at the sides.
"Wow, I never knew there was a drawer under the oven! That's awesome."
"Dean," she laughed. "Is there a cookie sheet in there?"
"Ah, yes ma'am, there is." He says, pulling one out he stood up before kicking the drawer closed and moving to her counter. "Here you go." He offered kindly. Standing at six feet one inch Dean towered over her and yet not once did she feel threatened.
"Now all we gotta do is ball 'em up and put 'em in the oven." She said as she placed the bowl between them. Dean pulled a stool around and sat on it next to where Y/N has placed her own. They worked away at balling the cookie dough, making light conversation, and singing along to Micheal Bublé. Before long, Dean had put the tray into the oven while Y/N set a timer. Dean turned, leaning against the counter facing Y/N who was in a similar position. She looks to her side reaching for the spatula that still has cookie dough on it. She moved to lick it off noting Dean staring back at her. Little did she know he was focusing on how her lips were going to wrap around the spatula or how she'd drag her tongue over it collecting all the sticky goodness, but before he was even registering his thoughts, she reached out her hand offering him the spatula. Lost in thought, he blinked to shake himself out of the trance leaning forward to take it from her, and before he knew it, it was on the side of his face. Y/N's eyes were wide and her mouth left agape though still clearly smiling. She was probably as shocked at her actions as Dean was. Neither knew what to do.