As Sam took a walk to give them a little privacy, Dean and Shawn stood by the Impala. Dean noticed that Shawn looked smaller now that he wasn't engaged in some combination of theatrics and hysterics. He also looked sad to see Dean go, and it was awhile since Dean had seen that look from someone, he'd been so busy focusing on the demon drama.
"Wish I could stick around longer," Dean said, using his standard line from back when he did this regular.
"Really?" Shawn said with a kind tone but just a hint of a smirk, "Because it almost like you're not the sticking-around type, and you've done everything possible to keep it that way."
Dean let out a breath that was something like a chuckle. The fake psychic had spotted every lie Dean had told, so why should that stop now? Dean didn't know what to say.
But Shawn (of course) was willing to fill the silence. In the most melodramatic voice possible, he said, "I'm sorry Dean. I work with spirits, you kill them. It can never be!"
Dean laughed. Shawn had freaked a little when he figured out what the Winchesters were really doing in Santa Barbara, but soon enough he adjusted and even helped them figure out what past trauma at the waterpark the angry spirit was holding onto. And when Dean dove into the pirate ride's wavepool to save Shawn, carrying him to safety as water dripped off of them, Shawn had just looked at Dean with a gratitude and hero-admiration that Dean hadn't seen in a long time. And when Shawn joked, "Come on, dude, don't half-ass it. I think I need mouth-to-mouth," Dean couldn't help but laugh in relief and happiness. And when Shawn came to their motel room that night, smiling wide in his newly made "Team Good" T-shirt, Sam took one look at Dean's expression and decided to take a long walk.
Getting ready to leave Shawn, Dean was oddly wistful. He said, "Yeah, I guess you must have 'read' me last night, huh? Brilliant psychic that you are."
Shawn put his fingers to his head and said, "I see for you ... many dangers. Mostly involving sex. Whatever you do... don't let her try the thing with the pineapple."
Dean hid his smile as he said, "You really think that psychic crap is cute?"
"As a matter of fact, I think it's adorable."
"Quit stealing all my best lines, dude."
Shawn laughed then and looked up at Dean, eyes bright with happiness.
"Seriously, you're right, Shawn. I wouldn't know how to stick around even if I could. It ... makes me feel like crap that I'm doing this to you."
"Dude. Don't worry. I'm as much the no-commitment-guy as you are. The only difference is that you get to leave dramatically by driving a classic car off in to the sunset. So no hard feelings, just hot sexy memories. Really, you've got no reason to add another bone to your never-ending Castle Grayskull of self-inflicted guilt."
"Stop guessing what I'm feeling," Dean said, just a bit of mock-gruffness in his voice.
Shawn put his fingers to his head again and said, "I sense ... you are about to ... kiss me good-bye.... With tongue...."
Dean smiled as he obliged and gave Shawn a last kiss, something for them both to remember. As Shawn turned to walk away, he said, "You guys be careful, okay?"
Dean just nodded silently. He watched Shawn walk away and thought about all the things he was leaving in Santa Barbara, all the things he had left behind in countless other towns. He thought about all the things he would never be allowed to have, never be allowed to keep.
He sighed and got in the driver's seat to wait for Sam. He patted the dash gently and said, "At least I got you, baby."
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Written for comment_fic on Livejournal, a multi-fandom prompt community called "Comment_fic: Bite Sized bits of Fic," where you can request or write fic from any fandom.
Prompt was Dean/Shawn "I'm sorry Dean. I work with spirits, you kill them. It can never be!"