Eleven

"Woo! Alright, who's ready for another round?"

From across the table, Sam looked at his brother in horror. "Dean, I think you should slow down. You've already had more than enough—"

The drunken hunter dismissed him with a flick of his wrist. "Says who? This here's only my fifth bottle. Or is it sixth? Seventh maybe? Ah, who cares! Alaine, you still wanna keep goin'?"

Finishing off her beer in one gulp, she turned back to the elder Winchester, her lips quirking up into a playful smile. She tossed her long hair behind her and shot him a daring look. "I still got some fight left in me. I told you, Dean, there's no way in hell I'm letting you win."

"Mmm, sexy and competitive? You give a man all kinds of ideas."

Sam groaned internally. He threw his head back, sighing in exasperation as he stared up at the bar's ceiling.

"Down, boy. Can't you see you're making Sammy uncomfortable?" Reaching beside her, Alaine placed a small hand over Sam's knee under the table and gave it a light squeeze.

"Guys, can we please go home? You two have been at it for over three hours already."

"Come on, little brother. Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. Lighten up some."

Sam fixed Dean a pointed look, his features hardening.

"Dean's right, Sam. You've been a little uptight. Have another beer."

The hunter went to protest when the sound of his brother's hands slapping down onto the table cut him short. He looked over to see Dean rise from his seat.

"I'll be back. I'm gettin' us another round."

With a wink, the elder Winchester strolled away towards the crowd. He pushed past the group of bodies blocking his path, mumbling excuse me's under his breath until he reached the polished wooden counter of the bar. He nodded at the bartender, signaling the guy to bring him another three bottles of beer when a pair of small, feather-light hands settled onto his hips. He stiffened, his body shifting slightly as the whisper of a woman's voice caressed his ear.

"Hey there, good looking."

Turning around slowly, Dean came face-to-face with a beautiful blonde. She was smiling at him, her dazzling blue eyes glinting in the bar's overhead lights. She cocked her head to the side and bit her lip as she stepped into him.

Surprised, he offered her an awkward smile before clearing his throat. "Uh, hi."

"Ain't you a beauty. What's your name?"

"Dean."

The blonde trailed her hands up his sides, slipping them underneath his jacket to touch his waist. "Dean. My name's Kristy. I've been eyeing you for a while now."

Dean took a step back. "Have you?"

"Oh, yes. When I see something I want, I just have to go for it, and you..." she paused, her gaze raking over him. "You're absolutely delicious."

Under different circumstances, Dean wouldn't think twice about charming his way into this woman's bed. She was hot, and was openly hinting at wanting sex. Hell, that's all he'd need to make a move. Yet, as he watched her undress him with her eyes, a wave of discomfort settled over him. She wasn't what he wanted, or better yet, who he wanted. For the past couple of months, things had been this way. He'd come across all kinds of women willing to give themselves up to him, but never felt the drive to sleep with any of them. It was because his mind was only focused on one woman, and as much as he hated it, he couldn't bring himself to be with anyone else. The mere thought made him cringe, and having this blonde's hands groping him all over had him struggling not to throw her right off.

"Listen, sweetheart. I don't mean to sound like a dick, but you're barkin' up the wrong tree." Grabbing a hold of her wrists, he gently but firmly pushed her away.

"Oh?" She blinked, her eyes falling to his left ring finger. "You don't seem to be spoken for."

"I don't have to be."

The blonde pulled her hands back. "So, what are you? Gay or something?"

"No." Dean frowned. The muscle in his jaw ticked. "Why don't you just walk away before you make a fool out of yourself."

"Excuse me?"

Dean groaned internally. He turned his gaze away to steal a glance over at the other end of the establishment where his table was. He quickly noticed Sam sitting where he'd left him, his eyes glued onto his phone, but Alaine was nowhere to be seen. Brows furrowing, he scanned the crowd of faces, searching for her admist the multitude of people.

"Hey, I'm talking to—"

Waving her off, the hunter dismissed her. "Yeah, you have a good night."

"Asshole."

Dean felt her brush past him as she stormed off. A moment later, a quick tap came over his shoulder. He turned and the bartender smiled from behind the counter before handing him the beers. He nodded curtly, taking the bottles into his hands.

When Dean approached their table, Sam had lifted his gaze from his phone just in time to meet his brother's questioning stare.

"Where'd Alaine go?"

Sam motioned over to the other side of the bar. "Restroom."

"How long?"

"I'd say about five minutes."

Dean remained standing. He set the bottles down, his attention turning back onto the crowd. Sam noticed the frown knitting his brows together and leaned forward in his seat.

"Is something wrong."

The elder Winchester surveyed his surroundings. "She should've been back by now."

"There's probably a line. I'm sure she's fine, Dean."

"Yeah."

Sam eyed his brother curiously, a knowing expression coming over his face. He smiled softly. "This isn't like you."

"What?"

"This. You worrying over a girl."

Dean's hard gaze flickered back onto Sam. "She's our friend. Why wouldn't I?"

"Yeah, but this is different, and don't even think about denying it. I see right through you."

"What are you talkin' about, Sam?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Sam fixed his brother a pointed look. "Admit it. You like her."

"Seriously? What are we, twelve?"

"Come on, Dean. You don't have to get all defensive."

"I'm not gettin' defensive."

Sam smiled again. "Listen, it's okay if you like her. I was just gonna say that I think it'll be a good thing, you know? The two of you finally ending up together."

Dean scoffed, looking away into the crowd. "Right. Like that'll ever happen."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Probably 'cause she doesn't see me that way."

"And how do you know that?"

Dean had planned on answering him, however, his gaze had zeroed in on something across the room. His jaw tightened, prompting Sam to follow his line of sight.

"What is it?"

Shoulders tensing, the elder Winchester tightened his hands into fists. Anger amassed within him as he stared off into the distance.

"Stay here."

Ignoring the demands of his brother, Dean stalked through the crowd. He kept his gaze trained onto her face, watching her head fall back with laughter as a pair of hands grabbed her around the waist. They pulled her in, and a blush colored her already flushed cheeks. In an instant, he found himself approaching the pair, the sound of his own heartbeat drowning out the thundering music blaring in his ears. He witnessed her reach out to cup the stranger's jaw into her palm, and every muscle in his body stiffened the moment he saw her being pressed up against a wall. He was fueled by a raging jealousy that blindsided him. He didn't know where it came from, but welcomed the foreign feeling nonetheless before his anger took charge and blocked the rest of the world out.

He hadn't felt the pain of his fist colliding with the man's face. He'd heard it—the loud crack of bones shattering. He'd punched the stranger square in the nose, sending him flying backwards into an empty table. He stepped towards the man crumpled on on the floor in a bloody heap with the intent of beating him unconscious, but a slender arm shot out and barred the path.

"Dean! What are you doing?"

Her voice. He snapped his attention down to her, his nostrils flaring. Rage surged through his being. His hands trembled at his sides and he clenched them hard. She moved in front of him, her panicked gaze meeting his as she settled her hands onto his chest in an attempt to hold him back.

"Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted.

By now, a group of patrons had begun to circle around them. He heard the gasps and whispers they passed amongst each other.

"Car. Now."

"Excuse me?"

Dean returned her defying gaze with an icy glare. "You heard me. Let's go."

"No."

At that moment, Sam appeared beside him. He felt his brother grab a hold of his shoulder.

"Dean. Come on, man."

She now flickered her attention over to the younger Winchester. She fixed him a pleading look.

"Alaine, just listen to him. Let's go."

"No. I'm not going anywhere!"

Moving towards her, Dean locked his fingers around her wrist and squeezed. "So help me God, I'll drag your ass out of here."

Sam pulled him back. "Dean, relax. Let's just all get in the car before we get ourselves kicked out."

Alaine wrenched out of Dean's grasp. She stormed off in the direction of the bar's exit, leaving the brothers behind. As the elder Winchester made a move to follow, Sam stopped him.

"Dude, what the hell happened?"

Brushing him off, Dean stalked away. "Nothing. Just drop it."

The drive back to the bunker had been absolutely nerve-wracking. No one had spoken a word throughout the entire ride. Dean sat at the wheel, the muscles in his face painfully tensed. He kept his eyes glued to the road, his fingers curled tight around the steering wheel to the point of cutting blood circulation. Sam hadn't dared to comment on what happened back at the bar. He merely rode beside his brother in the passenger seat, and occasionally stole brief glances his way. In the backseat, Alaine sat quietly, staring out of the window at the passing scenery.

The tension in the air was definitely palpable. Caught in the middle of their quarrel, Sam had been forced to sit through the silence. He was aware of the events that would transpire once they arrived home, and was smart enough to know not to stand in Dean's way, lest he wanted to be at the receiving end of his anger. He'd almost gotten into a fight of his own with his brother when he'd offered to drive. Sobered by his anger, Dean had snatched the keys out his hand and jumped behind the wheel before Sam could even protest.

To his relief, they managed to arrive at the bunker quickly, and in one piece. As Dean rolled the Impala into the underground garage, Alaine had waisted no time in clambering out of the backseat. She threw the door open and flew out, forcing Dean to slam the breaks.

"Dammit—Sam, park the car."

Temporarily stationing the vehicle, Dean jumped out. He bolted after her as she sped through the door leading into the bunker's halls. He cursed under his breath and trailed behind, his quick steps carrying him towards her.

"Alaine!"

The minute she stepped into the corridor, she hastened her stride. She clenched her fists, compressing the anger she felt bubbling up inside of her. She wasn't too far from her room when his voice reached her from around the corner. Desperate to get away, she now ran the rest of the way, her head thumping as hard as her heart did inside of her chest. She thought she'd escape when the door to her sanctuary came into view and sprinted it towards it. Yet, as she reached for the old, rusted doorknob and let herself inside, hurried footsteps came from behind her. She quickly ducked into the room, however, she hadn't closed the door fast enough.

Dean burst through it. Chest heaving, he stormed inside, slamming the door shut with his foot before he reached for Alaine. He then grabbed her and she screamed as he pushed her up against the wall.

"Get off!"

Dean kept her small frame pinned underneath his. He used his weight to trap her, his grip locking around her upper arms, holding her firmly in place as he loomed over her.

"I said get off!"

Rage radiated off of him in pulsing waves. He met her gaze. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Let me go!"

Using what little force she could, Alaine attempted to push him away. She shoved at his shoulders, but his rigid stature remained immovable. She cussed, trying harder to drive him back, her small fists beating at his chest. They bounced off the hard muscles, barely making the man flinch.

"Get the hell off of me!" she ordered once more.

Dean disobeyed. "No," he snapped, his tone deathly controlled.

Alaine sensed the hunter's irritation by the lividness in his intense stare and quickly grabbed onto his wrists. She pulled hard as frustrated grunts escaped her. She fought to wrench out of his grasp, yet he wouldn't budge. She let out angry screams, her body writhing against his in efforts of bucking him off.

"Calm down—"

"Fuck you!"

Alaine's words trembled as she spoke. An unanticipated feeling began to spiral towards the surface. Her lungs constricted, limiting the amount of air she could draw in. The room now began to spin and she breathed harder as her stomach churned.

"Dammit, just stop!"

Dean's voice reverberated off the concrete walls. He leveled his face to hers, his eyes taking in the faltering of her anger as another emotion flickered across her features. She struggled against him, her own gaze refusing to meet his.

"You're a selfish bastard!" she cried out. "You only think of yourself and I hate it."

"What? Where the hell is this coming from?"

"You, you heartless son of a bitch!"

His heart thundered inside of his chest as his eyes flickered all over her face. "Alaine—"

Looking up at him, her features tightened and she fixed him with a cold stare. "I saw you with that fucking blonde."

"Who?"

"The one from the bar! Her hands were all over you."

Realization quickly flooded over him. Letting go of her arms, Dean swiftly cupped her cheeks into his palm. "Wait, listen to me—"

"Listen to what? One minute you act like you want to fuck me, the next is like you can't even stand to be in the same room as me. Is this just some game to you?"

She tried to pull away from his touch, but Dean turned her gaze right back to his.

"That's not what this is."

"This...it's all just bullshit and I don't want it. I so fucking don't. Get the hell off of me."

Desperation now clawing its way up his throat, Dean pressed himself flush to her." No, dammit! Would you just listen to me? I wish you weren't friggin' drunk right now."

"I'm not drunk!"

"Yes, you are. You can't even stand on your own two feet! I'm the only reason why you haven't fallen on your ass yet. Just relax and let me talk to you."

"Screw what you have to say," she spat. "Get out of my room and leave me alone!"

Angrily, Dean pressed his forehead to hers. "Hey—look at me! That's enough. You hear? Calm down."

He felt the frantic rising and falling of her bosom, hearing the rasp of her erratic breath as her gaze snapped up to his. She punched at his chest and screamed at him to release her, but Dean ignored every one of her demands.

He could no longer bare it. Alaine's reddened eyes held his, her dark hair falling around her face. A surge of intensity crackled around them, and Dean was nearly shaking in an attempt to keep his raging emotions in check. He didn't remember ever having this ache in him, this all-consuming longing that pulled him towards a woman. It was something he never thought he'd want or need, and it filled his being with a desire so strong, it knocked the air right out of his lungs.

Without even stopping to think of the repercussions, he emitted a low growl and captured her mouth with his. He'd claimed her lips suddenly, almost possessively, using his tongue to steal the gasp of breath she sucked in, and just like that, all the fight left Alaine's body in a rush.

She let out a soft moan, the hands at his chest halting their assault to clutch onto his shoulders. Her legs buckled and she pulled him into her as a shiver ran down her spine. The fire of desire ripped through them, taking, demanding. Dean found himself falling prey to the insatiable hunger as his hands left her face to skim along her curves. He grabbed and pulled, not satisfied with the closeness of their bodies. He needed to feel more and the intrusive layers of clothing separating them only furthered his desperation.

Swiftly, he pulled off his jacket. It fell to the floor in a heavy heap along with his long-sleeved shirt. Alaine's fingers traced up the length of his arms, gripping at the taut muscles of his biceps. He reached for her leather jacket and pushed it halfway down her shoulders before she shrugged it off the rest of the way.

The entire time, Dean kept his mouth on hers. He held her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently. He felt her tongue dart out to meet his, his chest heaving with the gentle caress. He groaned low and deep, and Alaine shuddered against him. He palmed her ass, his hands squeezing as hard as he could. He then bent down to lift her small frame up into his arms, evoking a yelp of surprise from her.

Instinctively, her limbs wrapped around him. She cupped his face, her nails scratching at the groomed stubble framing his jaw. She pressed her thumb to the cleft in his chin and tilted his head back, her tongue sliding deep into his mouth. Alaine tasted him in small circles, stroking and licking. He moaned an expletive against her lips as he moved through the room.

In an instant, he stood at the side of her bed. She felt his body dipping, felt her legs tightening around his waist, and then he shoved her into the mattress and stretched himself over her, pinning her hips underneath his. He made a sound then, one that sent a chain of tremors along her abdomen. It tightened, clenched, and she moaned as his fingers slipped past the hem of her shirt and clawed at her back.

Her whole being was thrumming with need. She felt vulnerable, caught between the crossfire of her burning desire and the steady pull of her subconscious fighting to draw her back. Her thoughts were then taken away from the softness of Dean's lips as images from the bar flooded her mind.

She had seen them. She'd watched how that woman had thrown herself at him, and the smile Dean gave her in return. This had sparked a boiling jealousy inside of her. An anger like no other had quickly followed. For the sake of her own emotions, she'd walked away with the excuse of needing to use the restroom, and left Sam alone at the table. Yet, as she pushed past the bodies of patrons baracading her path, she'd unwillingly bumped into a man, and as their gazes met, breathtaking steel gray eyes finding hers, her inebriated mind said, 'to hell with Dean Winchester,' and threw all shred of care to the wind.

Had Dean not shown up when he had, she was sure her jealousy would've led her towards something regrettable. And although a part of her had been thankful for the unwanted rescue, she'd been enraged by the tone of authority he'd taken with her.

Who the hell was he to demand anything of her?

And just like a hard blow to the face, the thundering voice of her subconscious roared backed the answer, its cruel truth spearing through her lust-filled haze.

He is nothing to you, just as you are nothing to him.