You and the boys were at the bar after a week of grueling witch hunts. Dean was already beyond three sheets to the wind. Sam was a little drunk too.
"I'm gonna go to the restroom," Sam said.
"Ok, think I'll walk Mr. Too Many here back to the hotel," you said, "it's just right down the street,". You managed to wrestle away the keys from Dean and hand them to Sam. Supporting the eldest brother against your side you started walking him back to the motel.
"You know Y/N," he said, "you are so beautiful,".
"Thank you, Dean," you said.
"You deserve so much better then those jackasses you seem to go for," he said. That took you a little by surprise. Since when did Dean Winchester care who you date. You unlocked the door to his and Sam's room and helped him inside. You managed to get him over to his bed before he collapsed. You helped him take off his shoes and was taking off his jack when he grabbed your wrist. "Can I tell you something Y/N?" he asked.
"Sure Dean," you said. You noticed a serious glint in his green eyes.
"I love you Y/N," he said, "I've loved you for so long,". You were stunned. Dean Winchester confessed he loved you. But then you remembered he was drunk.
"Dean you don't mean that," you said, "it's just the beer talking,".
"I do mean it Y/N," he said, "you're a hell of a girl and I'd love it if you'd give me a shot,". Again you were stunned. You wanted to believe it, but he was drunk.
"Tell you what Dean," you said, "if you remember this and feel the same tomorrow then we'll talk,". Dean soon passed out and you went to your room.
The next morning you woke up early and just laid in your bed as last night played in your head. You wanted so badly to believe it. After all, didn't people say when someone's drunk they're the most truthful? As bad as you wanted to believe it, you just couldn't. Why would a guy like Dean want you out of all the girls out there? A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts. "Who is it?" you asked.
"Dean," you heard him answer. Your heart pounded, but you told yourself to calm down. You open the door. Dean looked hungover for sure. Messy hair, crumpled clothes, he was a little pale, and he was holding his head.
"You ok?" you asked.
"Hangovers," he said, "always fun,"
"Come on in I'll get you a water bottle," he stumbled in and sit down on your bed as you handed him a cold water bottle which he stuck on his head. As you were making sure you had your stuff packed he spoke up.
"I meant what I said Y/N," he said. You froze, "I love you Y/N, I have for a while now,".
"Dean, I," you tried to think of something to say.
"Please tell I haven't been imagining things," he said, "that you feel the same way? The looks you give me sometimes, and how you blush when I call you nicknames,".
"You weren't," you finally said, "imagining things. I love you too Dean,". He placed the bottle on your bed, got up and walked over to you. He gently ran his fingers over your cheek. He then leaned down and softly kissed you.