"No! Um…sit," You said quickly both hand out in front of you in a panic. When that worked you took a step back, its breath hot on your legs. "Okay…Stay. Do you know that word? Stay?"
You backed away slowly, letting out a sigh of relief when he didn't move. Your heart was pounding furiously and you knew that if Dean got here before Sam did, you would be in so much trouble. But it was Sam's birthday, and this was the only way to make it clear how much you loved him. How much you were willing to sacrifice. So if that meant that Dean pouted and complained for a bit, then so be it.
The kitchen was a mess. There was a broken glass on the floor and the trash can had been knocked over, spilling coffee grounds and paper plates across the floor. A chair had been knocked over, and there was a dark red liquid spreading across the linoleum. Wine. Of course. Groaning, you glared at the little demon, heaving a sigh. "Just…stay there, okay? Does that make sense?" Then rolling your eyes you began cleaning.
Every time you heard a car door shut, you jumped, paused, held your breath, and shot a warning glance at him. Well. He wasn't that bad. He was staying where you had told him to stay, in spite of the fact that you were flying around the kitchen, desperate to get it clean before the boys got back. As you swept the final remains of trash back into the trash can, the front door opened. He and you met eyes and you said softly, in a whisper, "Do. Not. Move."
Sliding out into the main room, you smiled sweetly at Dean. "Hey…How was, um. Research? And stuff."
Dean watched you for a moment, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "We weren't doing research, we were doing interviews." You saw the way his hand started sliding towards his gun.
"No, Dean! I'm fine, I swear. It's just that I have Sammy's present in the kitchen and I know that you're going to be really mad when you see it, but I had to because I know that it'll make his day, and if you just wait, I'm sure you'll see that it's not that bad, you know? Because—"
As you were talking Dean frowned and walked around you, stepping into kitchen, leaving you spluttering and stumbling through an excuse. When he disappeared through the doorway, you held your breath, squeezing your eyes closed as you waited for the eruption.
"Y/N!" Dean yelled from the kitchen, stomping back into where you were his eyes on fire. Pointing into the kitchen, he snapped, "What the hell is that?"
"Sam's birthday present."
"I can see that. Why?"
"Because he'll like it."
"But…" Dean paused, groaning loudly, "But it's awful."
"You haven't even met him yet! He's sweet. Ish."
"Ish? Ish."
"Yeah, I mean. He's sweet but he gets really excited and knocks stuff over sometimes."
"Great," Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fantastic."
"Dean," you pleaded, taking a step towards him, "He's not that bad. I mean, he's still sitting in the kitchen, right? Like, I told him to stay there and he understood that so he can't be that bad."
"It's a demon.'
"No it's not!"
When Dean opened his mouth to argue again, Sam stepped through the front door, his arms heavy laden with takeout containers. "Hey guys," he nodded, unloading his arms. "Y/N, I got your lo mien, eggrolls, and sesame chicken. Dean, you get fried rice, General Tso's, and crab Rangoon, and I get beef and broccoli and steamed rice. Are you guys ready to eat, because I'm starving?"
When he realized that you and Dean were standing in an impasse, your arms crossed tightly across her chest, Dean's hands planted firmly on his hips, both glaring at each other, his gaze shifted between the two of you. "Everything okay?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Shut up, Dean."
"You shut up!"
"Make me!"
Sam stepped between the two of you, his massive form breaking the argument. "Someone wanna tell me what's going on?"
Silence descended in the room as you and Dean both waited for the other to speak. Then with a hesitant sigh, you said softly. "I got you a birthday present. It's in the kitchen." And without waiting for a response, you whistled.
A blur of gold zipped through the doorway, running laps around the three of you. It took a moment for Sam's eyes to focus on what it was that was running around him, but when he did, the smile that spread across his cheeks, the sparkle in his eyes made the hassle worth it. Sam dropped to his knees, circling his arms around the Labrador's neck.
"Hi! What's your name?"
Grinning down at your boyfriend, before tossing Dean an "I-told-you-so" look, you responded, "I didn't name him. I thought you would want to."
As Sam's fingers dug through the dog's fur, he pondered for a moment before speaking suddenly. "Atticus."
You laughed and Dean frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. "You mean like that stuffed dog you carried around until we left it at a hotel in Montana?"
"Yeah," Sam said, unable to take his eyes off his new pet. "And from To Kill A Mockingbird. Atticus was a lawyer, so."
As you and Dean watched Sam ignore his food for the sake of his dog, you raised your eyes to watch Dean, surprised at what you saw there. Adoration, love, and something that looked like guilt. But as soon as you saw it, it disappeared. Dean stomped across the room, gathering several containers of food before crashing into a chair.
"If you think I'm gonna share my food, you're so wrong."
But you knew, underneath his tough exterior, Dean was happy for Sam. And Sam? Well. Sam was in heaven.