"Dean, no."
"Why not?"
"You don't really want to have this conversation with me," you said.
"I really do. That's why I asked." You sighed and looked at him, hitching the sheet up around yourself as you sat up and faced him in his bed.
"It's gross," you said simply.
"What? I keep Baby clean, what are you talking about?"
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean? Do you know how many stray dogs Sam's tried to bring home in the backseat and I didn't let him? It's pristine back there. And comfortable," he leaned forward as he spoke, kissing your bare back.
"Dean, Sam may not have had any bitches in the backseat, but you have," you said, laying it out for him. He pulled back and looked at you, amusement clear in his green eyes.
"Oh," he laughed, before seeing your expression and stopping immediately. "And you're grossed out?"
You cleared your throat and narrowed your eyes at him. "This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "This is not a one-night stand."
"Hell no, it's not," he agreed.
"We're different. We're special. And having sex in the back of your car like you used to do with I don't want to know how many women—don't you dare smile at that," you said, pointing a finger at him sternly. He pressed his lips together firmly. "That's not special," you finished with a shrug.
"Simple as that?" he asked.
"Simple as that. I don't know why that's some big dream of yours anyway," you said.
"Because I want you," he replied, gently pulling you back down to lay beside him. He began kissing your neck, letting his words come between them. "I want you everywhere." His hands moved under the sheets and gently tickled at your sides causing you to giggle. You made a few feeble attempts to push him away.
"You can have me anywhere else," you smiled, kissing him back. He looked at you, pushing some hair from your face.
"That's actually still a pretty good deal," he said, and pulled the sheets back over you both.
—
You woke early the next morning to get going. You had the next three days off, as near to a miracle as you'd seen in your time hunting with the Winchesters, and you didn't want to waste a minute. Dean had actually agreed to go away with you, a second miracle in and of itself; he was going to forget about hunting and cases for an entire three days. You'd just finished a werewolf case on the west coast and made an impromptu plan to drive down the Pacific Coast Highway before making your way back through to Lebanon.
Sam had quickly grown weary of finding the two of you in various states of undress during the weeks you'd been together, even with a separate room when the three of you stopped at motels, and he had made arrangements to get home on his own. He was all too happy as he waved the two of you off from the motel parking lot that morning.
"Weirdo's probably going to run home," Dean scoffed as Sam disappeared in the rear view.
The drive was beautiful as you set off; the sky was pristine, absolutely spotless clean in the sky, wiped free of clouds. The air felt different out there on the coast and with Dean's hand on yours in the middle of the seat, you felt as though you could drive forever. You gasped when the ocean came into view for the first time, it had been years since you'd last seen its grandeur, and Dean watched you take it in, enjoying his own view. You drove over bluffs with sprawling views of the sea and sand, twisting and turning down the highway. You never felt scared with Dean in the driver's seat, you never had.
"And what would you do if something were to…mysteriously happen to all your tapes?" you teased a few hours in to listening to the same twelve classic rock songs, holding one of said tapes in your hand and rolling your window down.
"Don't you dare," Dean said, a smile teasing at his face. You laughed and put the tape back in the box. You left the window down and let the salty air fill your lungs.
The two of you had no plans, no itinerary of any kind except to drive until you needed gas. You drove about five hours before stopping at a beachside diner and ordering burgers as the sun beat down pleasantly on your backs. You tossed french fries to one another and laughed when a stray one ended up attracting an entire flock of seagulls.
Dean allowed you to take his hand after you'd eaten and lead him past the sandy parking lot out to the beach. You strolled at a leisurely pace across the sand, Dean holding your shoes for you. You walked until you lost sight of his car and the diner in the distance; it was easy to do that at the beach.
"Aah! It's cold," you screamed when the water surprised you and came up to your ankles.
"Put your shoes back on, weirdo," Dean smiled at you, placing a kiss in your hair.
"The sea is my first love and I'm going to enjoy this," you replied, lifting your chin at him.
"First love, huh?" he asked and you nodded, feeling the tug on your lips. Neither of you had said it, you'd both been playing a game of chicken with those three small, yet utterly consequential words.
Dean could feel himself on the precipice of it, right there overlooking the edge. He could almost feel it on his lips, ready to slip out. It didn't scare him so much; he knew he was going to take that fall sooner or later, he just worried that you wouldn't join him. He felt he could give in so easily, just close his eyes and… He looked over at you, the wind blowing your hair around your face. You'd started talking about your first time seeing the ocean as a kid, how it had filled you with wonder even then. You talked about how it swaddled you up in its salty waves, knocking you down to your knees and filling your lungs, mouth, and nose with water before righting you once more. Something bigger than yourself. That's what you were saying. It made you believe in something bigger than yourself.
You stopped talking, mid-story, at the look on Dean's face. You brought your hand to your own, pushing your hair back self-consciously.
"What is it? Something wrong?" you asked. He blinked at you and smiled wider.
"Nothing at all, actually," he replied.
"Alright," you said skeptically and felt him squeeze your hand before you continued with your story.
—
You drove a little further on that afternoon, stopping a few towns down the coast at a small inn on the water near Half Moon Bay.
"What are you doing, crazy? It's freezing," Dean said, watching you open the window.
"You big baby. I want to hear the waves," you replied, standing there and breathing in the night air for a moment before hopping into bed beside him.
"You're going to put your freezing feet on me," he said as you got comfortable.
"Yes." You felt him laugh against you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, both of you turned to face the window. You turned your head and met him in a kiss, holding him there with your hand, and pressed your feet to his legs.
"You're a brat," he said against your lips.
"Yes," you replied once more, before turning back and closing your eyes, warmed from Dean and letting the sound of the waves outside lull you into a deep sleep.
You slept in the next morning, not even setting an alarm for the first time in weeks. You loved waking up before Dean, being the one to pull him from his dreams, hoping when you did it was into an even more pleasant reality. You would start by pressing kisses to his chest, working your way up to his neck, and finally his lips at which time he would be awake enough to respond in kind. He moved his lips with yours sleepily, and snaked his arms around your back, pulling you flush with him. He moved his hands under your pajama shirt, slowly, leisurely, kneading your breasts gently as he moved his mouth to your neck.
"We slept in," you groaned with a smile, tilting your head up to give him better access.
"So?" he asked.
"So we have a checkout time," you replied, putting your hands on his shoulders.
"Let's stay here another night. We could stay in bed all day."
"We could stay in bed all day at the bunker. We have to keep going," you insisted.
"Ok," he said, but negated his words by pulling your shirt off and tossing it away. He rolled you over so that you were laying on top of him.
"Dean, we'll have to pay for a late checkout. We really need to go," you said once more, though your words were much less firm as he grazed his teeth across your earlobe.
"Ok," he whispered and you shivered at his breath against your skin, feeling yourself giving into him.
The late checkout fee turned out not to be that bad.
—
You made it to Malibu later that day, despite your late start. Dean surprised you several miles in by asking a simple question.
"Why don't you play me some of your music?" he asked, popping his well-worn tape out. You looked over at him, letting your jaw drop dramatically. He glanced back and laughed.
"Dean, is that you? Should I do the silver test? Did a shapeshifter take your place?"
"No shifter," he replied. "Just play me something. I know you made a mix for this trip."
You smiled; he knew you well. You had a mix for everything and had gone to great lengths to pick the right songs for this trip. You turned and rummaged in your bag in the backseat for your ipod and found the ipod jack Sam had installed so long ago on the floor. You hooked it up and shuffled through your playlists until you found 'PCH Mix'.
You cranked the first song up and looked to Dean, shimmying in your seat, dancing as much as your seatbelt allowed and staring at him until you made him laugh.
"It's good, right? Beachy!" you said.
"Oh, very beachy," he replied with a nod and you pushed his arm lightly.
"Lady, running down to the riptide! Taken away to the dark-side! Do you want to be my left-hand man?" you sang to Dean. "Hey, Dean. I changed the lyrics for you. Do you want to be my left-hand man?" you asked seriously.
Dean chuckled and took your hand in his, kissing the back of it. You sang the whole thing, badly and loudly, reveling in every moment of getting to listen to your own playlist in the Impala. Dean had trouble keeping his eyes on the road, watching the life in you spark and catch fire while you sang. He let you play your songs over and over, listening to each one with new ears because they were your favorites.
You stopped just as the sun was beginning its descent, dipping slowly into the water on the edge of the world. Dean parked the Impala and you walked down the beach, far away until you hit a pier, standing underneath it while you watched the stars start to peek out one by one.
The air was warmer there and you sat with Dean in the sand, still cozy from the sun it had bathed in all day. You pulled his arm around your shoulder.
"This is nice," you said. His response was his lips on yours.
The night wore on and you sat together, not saying a word, just watching the moon change the tide. The beach cleared slowly of families and couples walking their dogs until it was only you and Dean alone on the sand. It seemed as good a place as any to stop for the night and you curled up together, falling asleep right there under the pier in the warm night air.
The following day brought with it the realization that it was time to head away from the beach and back towards the bunker, back towards normalcy, or at least your version of it. You and Dean trudged together through the sand and back to the car, reluctant to leave the water's edge.
You didn't realize until you sat how much sand you'd brought back with you, immediately jumping back out.
"It's in my hair! It's getting everywhere!" you laughed. "I'm so sorry!" Dean looked over at you, watching as you desperately tried to wipe the seat clear and he reached over to grab your hand, stopping you.
"Hey," he said with a chuckle. "It's ok. It's not a big deal."
Your eyes softened and you nodded. "Ok," you said, eyeing him to make sure he meant it before getting in.
The waves faded away behind you in the distance.
—
With the afternoon came a wall of rain and you were forced to slow down in order to see through it.
"I don't think we're going to get back in time," you said, looking out the windshield at the deluge.
"That's fine. Sammy can take care of himself, he's really growing up, you know?" Dean teased. "Hey, why don't you play me your rain mix? Do you have one?"
"Do I have one?" you asked with a scoff, and eagerly pulled your ipod out again, plugging it in and starting the first song. It was definitely not quite Dean's regular style but he didn't say a word as the tune filled the car. You watched him as he drove along, so steady, and thought about your trip. You couldn't imagine him letting any other girl play her music in his car, and he had definitely not gone on a road trip with anyone else before you. He glanced over at you with a smile, feeling your eyes on him.
"We should stop for gas soon," he murmured, checking the gauge.
"Ok," you said. "Hey, can I wear your jacket? I'm a little cold."
"Of course," he said and you retrieved it from the back, pulling the leather around you.
—
You waited nervously in the car for Dean to get back from his snack run inside the gas station you were sitting in front of, feeling thankful there was no one else around. The rain was still coming down in torrents, creating puddles every couple of feet on the pothole ridden lot. You straightened up when you saw Dean approaching the car.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he laughed, stopping in his tracks when he saw you.
"What?" you asked innocently from the passenger's seat. "You said I could wear your jacket."
"I didn't realize you'd be wearing only my jacket," he said, sliding in and shutting the door. He leaned over, dropping the bags to the backseat floor, and started kissing your neck but you stopped him.
"I'm not having sex in front of some hick town's convenience store. You get us somewhere out of town and I'm all yours," you said.
"Such a tease," Dean said with a grin, looking over at you once more before tearing his eyes away and gunning the gas pedal, peeling out towards the road.
You grinned as he drove, noting the way his eyes were sliding to you every couple seconds; he couldn't keep them away. It had been a bit tough, navigating out of your shorts and shirt in the front seat, trying to keep your modesty under his leather jacket, but the looks he was giving you now made it worth it the struggle.
"I thought you said you were cold," he teased as he drove, going much faster than he had been before.
You shrugged. "I warmed up a little."
"And what happened to you saying this wasn't special?"
"I guess you changed my mind," you said. It was as close as you were going to get to saying it to him, determined not to break first. His hand slid over, crossing the distance between you and over to your thigh, running warmly over it.
"What are you doing?" you asked coyly, watching his hand travel higher.
"You said no sex until we got out of town. You never said I couldn't do this," he replied. Before you could ask what 'this' was, he answered by pulling your leg towards him, effectively granting him access to you and sliding a finger inside easily. The feel of his leather jacket against your otherwise bare skin and the anticipation of Dean while you'd waited for him had gotten you more than ready. You gasped and let your head fall back.
"Oh my god," you laughed. "You need to pay attention to the road."
"I am nothing if not a multi-tasker, Y/N," Dean replied, stealing a look at you as he moved his finger in and out of you smoothly. You rose your hips high to meet him and grasped at the door handle tightly. He was skilled, knew just where to touch you to make you moan, when to pick up the pace and when to slow it down even when you begged him not to. He made it good, adding a second finger, pumping deeply with them as your breath caught in your throat.
"Dean! There's a cop," you managed to get out in a breath, seeing the state patrol car passing you on the other lane.
"Is this illegal?" Dean asked, not stopping his ministrations.
"Shit, it should be," you said, and he laughed.
"Shoulder of the road of some hick town looking a little better now, sweetheart?" he teased, curling his fingers inside of you just a bit. You moaned loudly, turning your head and biting down on the seatbelt. It was too much, you wanted more of him. You grabbed at his hand, stopping him, and unbuckled your seatbelt.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You slid over towards him and pulled his face to yours, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard enough that you knew it would sting. "I'm driving, you maniac," he said as you kissed his neck, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your lips.
"You started this," you replied, grabbing at the hem of his shirt and pulling it clumsily over his head. He swerved a bit, losing sight of the road for a moment until you had the shirt off and tossed into the back.
"Jesus," he laughed. You were nearly in his lap, pressing your lips across his shoulders, his chest, down his stomach, before traveling back up to his face. You moved your mouth to his ear.
"Pull. Over," you said. "Now." Dean didn't need to be told twice, slowing the Impala and stopping under the shelter of some ancient oaks. He turned the engine off and the only sound was the rain on the roof and the two of you as your breathing picked up. You straddled his lap, situating yourself between him and the steering wheel; a tight fit but that only urged you on. He unzipped his leather jacket and slid his hands over your shoulders shedding you of it and leaving you naked. It turned you on more than you would have expected, being there on the side of the road, there with Dean in the Impala.
You let your hands slide down his chest, across his abdomen, feeling the muscles tighten under your cold fingers.
"Are you always freezing?" he asked, rubbing his hands swiftly up and down your arms.
"Shut up," you breathed, working his belt open. You undid his button and zipper before pulling him free of his pants and boxers. He was hard for you already and he held your hips as you rose up and lowered yourself down onto him. He ran his hands to your behind and then up your back before tangling in your hair as you rose and fell over him, clutching to his shoulders.
You gasped, pulling back to look at him.
"What?" he asked. "What is it?"
"I have a playlist for this," you said and turned to reach your ipod.
"Holy hell, don't go anywhere," he growled, pulling you back to him, and you laughed against him as he kissed your lips. He laid you down back towards the passenger side. You helped him all the way out of his pants and boxers, kicking them off with his shoes before he entered you again, using his leverage on top of you to push in deeper.
You slid your fingers down his back, looking him in the eye as you moved together. He brought his face close to you, his nose brushing yours until your breath mingled together. This was your favorite time with him; not just because of the sex, though you'd always remember the shock you'd felt the first time with him, wondering why the hell you'd been wasting your time with anyone else but Dean. You loved this time because you felt like so much communication was able to pass between you, with him so close. With Dean Winchester, the man who wasn't always great with words but could say so much more with a touch. The way he'd memorized everything that made you moan or cry out, knew how to make you say his name, loving every noise you made in between. You could feel everything between you, trying to find a name for it. It felt almost like… No, you weren't going to be the one to say it. You stretched up to kiss him again while he ran his hands over your breasts and down your belly, putting his fingers to use once more to intensify your pleasure.
"I can't—Dean, I can't," you said as your hips began to move sporadically against him.
"It's ok. I'm close. I'm close," he replied.
"Hurry. Ah—Dean," you let out with a moan. "Please. I want to together." You were finding it difficult to form full sentences, every thought flustered by Dean's pacing, filling you up in every way. You closed your eyes, letting yourself feel everything, hear everything. The rain had subsided a bit, pattering on the roof loudly still. You managed to hold out a little longer, waiting until Dean let you know he was there before you gave in, surrendering yourself to your release. You clutched at his arms, digging your fingers into the muscles there as you came together, something you'd only been able to accomplish a few times before. It was so much better that way, the warmth pooling between your legs and in your lower belly as you helped one another finish. You locked eyes with him, breathing hard, as you came down. He smoothed your hair from your forehead; the humidity from the weather and your efforts in the car had steamed up the windows and covered you both in a slick layer of sweat. He leaned down to kiss you once more as he pulled out, reaching down for his tshirt and using it to gently wipe you clean between your legs.
You both clambered into the backseat where there was room to stretch out and he held his arms open to you, where you lay atop him, letting your breathing return to normal. He'd brought his jacket back with him and draped it over you, running his fingers lightly down your back and over the leather.
"Thank you," you murmured sleepily against him.
"You kiddin' me? Thank you," he said. "Got my girl wearing my leather jacket, laying in Baby. What could be better?" You laughed softly and let out a yawn, pressing your feet to him again.
"Seriously? After all that your feet are still cold?" he asked, amusement in his voice.
"Sorry," you laughed. He pulled you tighter to him.
"It's ok. I kind of like that I can keep you warm."
For the second night, the two of you didn't get a hotel room. You stayed there in his car as the rain faded away into the night, lying in the backseat under the stars. He watched as your eyes grew heavy, finally shutting, and your breathing became slow and even, your head resting comfortably on his chest.
"Y/N? You hear me?" he whispered. No response. He thought about it a moment, wondering how it would feel.
"I love you," he said, finally, quietly as he could, testing the words out. They felt right. They felt true. He smiled softly at your dreaming face. He wouldn't be the first to say it. It didn't count if you were asleep, he thought to himself, pulling his jacket more snugly around your shoulders, but he knew he was lying to himself.
He stepped off the precipice and closed his eyes, praying harder than he ever had before that you were falling with him.