Chapter 21
"Please tell be you didn't do what I think you just did." Amy's voice was low and he could feel the aggravation scarcely contained as she glared up at him, her face barely an inch from his.
"What?!" He feigned ignorance.
"You just shoved us into a coffin, Winchester!"
The sound of her calling him by his last name sent a chill down to his stomach; a very decadent and wrong chill, which he wasn't supposed to feel.
"Well, what was I supposed to do? Just wait until it got to us?"
"Will you get that thing out of my face?" She scowled trying to push the flashlight away from her.
It was near impossible with the restricted amount of space they had.
She lay on her back, their legs awkwardly mangled in a way that his left thigh was currently strategically placed between hers, her arms crushed along her torso, while he propped himself up by his elbows, one on either side of her. This meant that her head was currently lodged between a bright flashlight and a gun.
He tried to keep himself as far away from her as possible, keeping the maximum distance so that their bodies didn't touch. Though he was relatively successful when it came to their chests, their legs and pelvises were a completely different story.
'Oh, God, please don't move.' He begged her mentally.
Her angered mind however seemed to be blocking his telekinetic request as she shifted irritably.
"Stop that!" He growled.
She ignored him.
"And what the hell were you thinking shooting a Nukekubi? All you did was piss him off!" Amy hissed.
"Oh, ok! Next time I'll just let him chow down on you, deal?"
"You can't kill a Nukekubi head, you twit!"
"I know! I'm not an idiot!" He barked back offended.
"Could've fooled me." She grumbled and Dean's eyes widened at her.
"Look, if it wasn't for you we wouldn't be in this mess." He accused.
"Excuse me? Whose brilliant idea was it to come to this town in the first place?" She countered.
They were literally screaming in each other's faces now.
"Every thing was going fine until you decided to go out for a stroll on your own."
"So what? Wasn't it safe? I thought you were so sure it was vampires." She ridiculed. "By the way, what was the plan on that one? Bore them to death with colossal dosages of corny flirting?"
Wait a second? Was she jealous? His heart gave an extra beat at the thought.
"You jealous?" He cocked a smart-alecky eyebrow at her.
If the question had caught her by surprise she didn't show it; her reply was immediate and soaked in sarcasm:
"Um… Let me see… um... no! I think nauseated would be the appropriate adjective on that one." Satisfied that she'd managed to erase that idea from his mind she quickly changed the subject: "I told you it wasn't vampires."
"Shut up."
He sounded like a five year old.
"You shut up!"
So did she.
"Amy, I swear if you don't shut that pie-hole of yours right now, I'll shut it for you."
"You can try!" Her chin rose high as she dared him.
Her breath hitched when she caught his eyes dropping to her mouth and linger there.
Thankfully, a distant shriek broke the growingly uncomfortable moment.
"It sounds like it's moving away." Amy was the first to speak.
Dean shushed her and she scowled up at him, while he blindly looked up as if he were able to see through the lid of the coffin.
"Don't shush-"
His hand dropped the gun and covered her lips.
There was another howl and this one was definitely more muffled and remote.
Yeah, it seemed to be moving away. In their argument, both had forgotten the dangerous situation they were stuck in, the fear subsiding long enough to cause the Nukekubi to lose their trail.
"I think it's gone." He announced.
His gaze returned to her with a furrowed brow when he heard her stifled protest. His hand was still on her mouth. He'd forgotten about that.
Gradually an uneven smirk took over his smug lips.
"I warned you I would shut it for you."
She tried to bite at his fingers but his grip was too tight so, instead, she began furiously trashing under him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the overwhelming surge of lust her actions induced.
Automatically his hand was off her mouth.
"Don't ever do that again!"
His mind scarcely registered her fervent protest, still reeling from the intense feeling rushing through his body.
He was no stranger to desire. His brother always told him he was a horny bastard and he was right. But this… this thing they had… this was a whole new level of craving. His hand fisted around the flashlight as he searched for much needed control.
Every single one of his senses was stuck and overpowered by her proximity; her face, her voice, her scent and God! could she just stop fidgeting for a second?
He had to get out of there before he lost his mind and did something he'd regret.
'Or, not…' The mischievous part of his brain whispered to him.
Another wail and this one was barely audible.
"It's gone. Let's go." He breathed.
He was pathetic, he couldn't even talk straight.
Amy nodded eagerly.
'Yes, please.'
Distance, she needed distance from him, because right now her body was asking her to do things that…
'Better not think about that.'
She braced herself as he moved. Unknowingly, in his haste, he nudged his knee against the spot where her legs came together and her body went haywire.
"O-oh…"
Her foggy mind picked up on that with a three second delay.
"O-oh? What do you mean o-oh?!"
She didn't like the expression on his face when he looked down at her.
"What?!" She demanded.
"There's no handle." He informed.
"Huh?"
"I can't get it open from the inside. We're locked in."
"Why is there no handle?"
She realised the stupidity of her inquiry the moment she said it, but she still had to hear Dean's cocky reply:
"Well, maybe because dead people don't usually need them, since they're… you know… Dead!"
He met her glare with one of his own.
"What now, Einstein?"
He didn't have an answer.
"Gah…" He gasped when she began to squirm again.
Her hips bucked upwards, teasingly pushing against his, to enable her to slip her hand under herself and into the back pocket of her jeans.
"What are-"
"I'm trying to reach for my phone…" She was huffing with the effort and her breath was hot on his neck.
Add to that the way their pelvises were rubbing together and he had a growing problem on his hands. Well, not on his hands but…
"I'll do it."
"Huh? You're not touching my-"
"I was talking about getting my phone. Don't get your panties in a bunch."
Great! Now she was pouting! She had to know what that did to him. She was doing it on purpose.
At least he'd made her stop, which was a plus. After a few moments he managed to fish out his phone.
His head dropped when the screen lit up.
"No signal." He sighed frustrated.
Before she had a chance to move again though, he made sure to push himself up as far as possible, to avoid any contact between the lower halves of their bodies. This, however, meant that the upper parts would have to come closer and he found his face buried in the crook of her neck.
She kept her eyes glued to the lid of the coffin, desperately trying to dismiss the balmy pants that taunted her neck.
When she eventually had the small device in her hand she dropped her hips and he rose above her.
Their eyes connected for a fraction of a second under the bright beam of the flashlight before hastily averting each other.
"Damn!" She cursed.
"No signal, either?"
She shook her head.
"What now?" She questioned.
"We wait. Sam will come for us."
"When?"
"I don't know! I'm not the one with special powers, remember? Sam's the psychic one." The effort to control his craving for her was taking its toll on him.
And being reminded of Sam didn't help either.
"It might take ages. Does he even know we're here?"
"He knows."
She was moving again.
"Um…What are you doing?" He tried to remain calm but jerked back when her hand slipped between their bodies and down her stomach to- He gripped her wrist halting it just in the nick of time.
"I'm getting a cramp!" She whined.
A powerful spasm took over her inner thigh muscles and she cringed, kicking her left leg.
Man, it was painful!
"Let go of my hand!" She commanded.
"N-no."
He was stuttering, great!
"Why not?!" She frowned up at him.
He had the goofiest expression ever, an odd mix between fear, embarrassment and-
She gulped when she recognised the last emotion. It was one she was becoming increasingly familiar with herself – lust, barely contained lust.
"It really hurts." She whimpered.
Reluctantly, he let got and her hand continued its path between her thighs, while he propped his pelvis as upwards as he could.
It as all going fine, the muscles in her thigh were relaxing steadily, until the back of her arm brushed against him. There was no way of ignoring the contact and the source of the hardness pushing against her skin through rough denim was obvious to both of them. There was no denying it.
It only got worse when their dilated pupils met.
Caving under her stunned gawk he grumbled dismissively:
"What did you expect? I'm a guy!"
His reaction served to lighten the mood and she seized the opportunity to retract her hand and disdainfully reply:
"Evidently…"
She avoided meeting his gaze, but having his face right on top of hers made it impossible.
"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I haven't had sex in months. I'm in a cramped space, lying on top of a woman who just won't quit squirming. It's bound to happen." He excused himself.
"I didn't say anything." She defended herself.
"Yeah, but you were thinking it."
"I thought you weren't a psychic." She scoffed derisively.
"There are certain things in life you don't need to be a psychic to figure out." He snarled.
"Fine."
"Fine." He repeated.
An uncomfortable silence filtered between them and as the anxiety got the best of her she twisted a bit.
"You can't keep still, can you?"
"My back hurts." She protested.
"And how do you think mine's doing? I've been holding myself up for the last half hour." He countered.
She narrowed her eyes at him crossly and pursed her lips together.
Once again the stillness settled in the coffin. Their combined breaths felt loud and embarrassingly uneven.
She was about to shift positions again but he anticipated her move and his hand grasped her hipbone, pinning her pelvis to the ground.
"Stop. Moving." He bit out the words.
"Or what?!" She defied him.
"Or I can't be held responsible for my actions." He couldn't have been more honest and it set her pulse into a frantic rhythm.
Author's note:
Sorry to cut this scene at this point, but it's probably going to be a rather long one so I had to cut it into 2 chapters. ;)
I know, evil cliffy.
Lere, great to see you here. And yes, I just couldn't resist taking a stab at writing Dean, he's just a perfect character for UST and I love writing a smart-Alec. Another reason that drove me to want to write a Supernatural Fic was the looming threat that Kripke might pull a season 6 Buffy on us with the next season and turn Dean into a moaning, brooding, 'oh my God I went to hell now I'm a completely screwed up and depressing' character. I really hope he doesn't go down that path…. Please!