You spent the whole night together. Laughing, cooking, then putting out fires. Which eventually lead to talking, kissing, getting naked, stopping, laughing, and now: talking while naked.
"What?" Dean asked, sitting up on his elbows, he touched the small of your back. You were sat up already, holding a pillow against your stomach and chest. You just couldn't stop laughing, the touch of his fingers on your back were so tingly and cold.
"I haven't met someone like you." You admitted, holding your pillow closer.
"I get that a lot." He smirked pulling you closer, insinuating a more dirty claim than you had.
"Not like that." You hit his chest, you stared up at him. You laid your chest on top of him, afraid of putting all of your weight on him.
You stared at each other. You knew your next question, and so did he and Dean didn't know if he could have a good answer for you. If he is safe enough to get close to you. He wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to have someone he could confide everything in, but then he'll have to leave... again.
"Where did you come from?" You asked. Every once in a while you had to touch his face, make sure that it was real.
"Some bar down the street." He joked, he ran his hand through your hair.
"I'm serious. I wanna know!" You traced circles on his collar bone. He gave a long groan,
"How do you expect me to focus if you look like this." Dean bit his lip and felt down your back and held onto your waist.
"Just tell me where your from." You begged.
"That's a complicated question." He sighed.
"Why?" You asked, then knew the answer, "The whole hunting thing, right..."
"Sorry, I know, that's usually the deal breaker." Dean shifted uncomfortably, putting his arms behind his head. You narrowed your eyes at him reaching up to grab his arm and bring his hand into yours.
"Horrible childhood?" You asked. His answers went quick to follow your questions, he knew what you were doing and graciously allowed it.
"The worst."
"Know how to deal well with emotional baggage?"
"Roughly 34 years worth of experience."
"Ever committed armed robbery or any other felony?"
"Depends on which state you're in."
"Louisiana?"
"Couple of homicides, armed robbery, but it's okay because I'm legally dead there."
"FBI, maybe, I want the full list."
"Mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecrations, breaking and entering, armed robbery, impersonating an officer, kidnapping, and at least three counts of first degree murder. But in my defense, some of that was done by a shapeshifter."
"Shapeshifter?"
"Yup, also real."
"Have you, you personally, Dean Winchester, murdered anyone?" You asked, looking at his hand in yours.
"Define murder." He demanded, swallowing.
"To kill another human being unlawfully and with premeditation." You defined, he thought about it hard, about the word human being and premeditation. He's killed plenty of things, many even just as byproduct of his existence but nothing from his hands personally. Made him feel silly that he blamed himself for every death but never took the knife to do it.
"When you put it like that, then I guess not." He grabbed your hand.
"Then I don't see a deal breaker." You crawled up from his chest, "See that wasn't so hard?"
"No, I guess not." He smiled up at you, your already made him all weak in the knees by doing almost nothing at all.
"So, where are you from?" You asked again, and he had full frontal view of your chest and really couldn't argue.
"Kansas. What about you?" He said very quickly, feeling the blood drain just as swift.
"See, was that bad?" You kissed him quickly as you returned to your previous position. He shifts slightly disappointed it never escalated.
"What about you, Ms. (Y/N)?" He repeated.
"What about me?" You shifted now.
This was what the Tulpa meant, you always wanted to get close to men before having sex, which was what kept them around. You felt it only made the sex better. But then you always leave them hanging, because you feel as though loneliness triumphs your selfish guilt. And sometimes, remembering what happened to your fiancé just gets too much.
"What do you mean 'what about me?' Where are you from? Come on, (Y/N)!" Dean rolled his eyes and patted your back.
"I already told you!" You played as if you were mad at him, but you didn't remember his name today, so you really had no right to be.
"Refresh my mind then." He said.
"Okay fine, but you can't laugh." You swallowed and he nodded his promise, "Minnesota."
"Oh.. Minnesota." Dean held back his laugh, and copied the classic accent: "Don't you know?"
"I will hit you." You threatened and he wiped his smile off his face.
"Your people skills are just awesome." He held up an okay sign, clicking his tongue.
"Thank you. I am actually new to this believe it or not." You patted his chest.
"Yeah?" He rose an eyebrow.
"Home schooled." You admitted, "I had a very lacking social life as a teen. So my mom thinks that I'm late in my rebellious stage."
"Does that make me the bad influence guy?" He smirked.
"I guess so." You smiled.
"You're ex-fiancé, he was a good guy then?" Dean wanted to know why that thing was after you. It wouldn't go after a girl who only broke a few one night stands.
"I don't wanna talk about it, if that's okay?" You kissed him and it felt comfortable. He didn't even realize: he was actually snuggling with you. But it was naked snuggling so that made it more masculine, right? He hadn't let himself be comfortable with anyone since Lisa, and it felt so nice to have someone who was real with him instead of just having sex. Tonight, to him, sex was the last thing on his mind. He actually wanted to know you.
"Do you do this with all the girls you help get out from a haunting?" You asked, sitting up again and grabbing the pillow and Dean started laughing.
"What?" You asked, "Are you laughing at me?"
"No... no- it's just you can't ever admit that I saved you." Dean just smiled to himself, smug.
"Don't laugh at me." You hit him with a pillow. Dean paused a moment, blank face, "What?" You whined.
"Sorry, if you can't take me laughing at you it's a deal breaker." He shrugged, and started to get up. You rolled your eyes, and grabbed his hand again and started pulling him back down he played as if you were so much stronger and allowed it.
Then he flips you over and looks down at you, straddling you a moment. You laugh a bit and he sees the innocence in your eyes that makes him want to protect you so badly. To have you be apart of him, his life. As much as he doesn't want to feel a single thing, he wants to feel the happiness you gave him the last few days.
Then he realized how selfish it was. He left his brother and Cass and the whole great fight against Abaddon because everyone close to him gets killed. He had Lisa's mind wiped because he was too much pain on her life. And yet here he is, getting close to someone else.
"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing his silence. You also felt uncomfortable, you knew it took a certain amount of either vulnerability or alcohol to have sex. But with him for whatever reason you felt comfortable enough to have him. And try to have a relationship for the first time since your fiancé.
"Nothing." He smiles weakly, kissing your forehead then rolling over you and grabs his underwear.
"Are you getting dressed?" You asked, now self conscious about yourself.
"Uh.. yeah. It's late and I'm sure you don't wanna see me first thing tomorrow." Dean says, standing out of the bed again and putting on his pants.
"Who told you that?" You pressed the pillow closer over your chest.
"You have, multiple times actually." Dean shrugs, remembering that this was not the case a few hours ago.
"Dean, seriously?" You were serious and removed the blanket from your lower body and went to stand in front of him, "Did I do something wrong? Because I thought I made it clear I want you here."
"Do you really want me here?" Dean put emphasis on me for you to think about if it was him or just needing someone here.
"I don't get what you're saying." You scrunched your face in honest confusion, not catching the emphasis.
"Of course, you don't." Dean sighed, starting to put on his shirt but you rolled your eyes and grabbed it from him and threw it across the room, "Really? (Y/N), come on."
"No." You ran ahead of him and held his shirt from him, "I'm sorry if I hurt you or made you think I don't like you- I'm really not good at this but I do want you here. Please don't leave. I really want you here and I also want to wake up and see you here, too. If that's okay?"
Dean didn't respond. He understood what you said. He wanted to so badly to stay that somehow it overrides how he felt. He just wanted it to be okay tonight and to have someone there who cared about him and be on the same page as someone else of their feelings of one another. So giving into his feelings again: Dean just sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair then sat back on the bed. You were hesitant to sit back down, you used his flannel shirt to cover your chest and put it on, unbuttoned. He thought you looked so good. He patted the spot next to him.
"Yeah, that's okay."