His
The still water was cool and serene as the man floated on it. His eyes were closed against the rays of the bright sun, and he was barely aware of his surroundings, so at peace as he was.
Usually very assertive, he didn't notice the shape closing in from beneath him in the water.
"Arghh!" Sam yelled, as Buffy yanked the lilo from underneath his body.
Rising to the surface and spitting out water, Sam couldn't help but laugh as he watched Buffy giggle, barely able to keep on treading water as she tried to control herself.
As Dean's birthday occurred only five days after Buffy's, the foursome had decided to stay on in Florida just a little longer. Dean had said that it wasn't necessary, but the others had made their minds up, deciding to spend his birthday here in the sun rather than on a hunt, as he'd never really had a proper birthday before. He had tried to pretend that it didn't matter to him either way at first, but as the day arrived, it was only too obvious how grateful and touched he really was.
Just like on Buffy's birthday, he was awoken first with breakfast, and then gifts. From Faith he received a wicked looking dagger, Sam a book on cars and a cool set of knives disguised as pens. From Buffy, however, he received a travel mug with his name on it, a charm to wrap around his ankle and a mini car fridge that belched whenever opened.
"I think you're supposed to plug it into the car cigarette lighter," Buffy explained with an embarrassed giggle, gesturing to the fridge. "I know it's kinda dumb, but you're always so hungry when we're on the road so it seemed perfect for you. You won't have to stop so often to grab a bite to eat." She ducked her head, hiding a blush. She knew it wasn't the greatest gift in the world, but she'd put a lot of thought into it and she really hoped he liked it.
Dean didn't like it...he loved it. He worked hard to hold in his grin, not wanting her to see how much he loved it. Her gifts were the greatest, and just so typical Buffy. Also, it was probably the first gift he'd ever received that had absolutely nothing to do with hunting, and that made it all the more touching. She saw him as a person, with needs, not just a hunter.
"Thanks," he offered gruffly, dropping the gifts on his bed and turning away. His actions were a complete contrast to his thoughts and feelings.
Buffy, who had been hoping that he might soften up a little today, sighed in acceptance and annoyance. She couldn't believe that he was still keeping up this act of ignorance.
She had hoped that after her birthday and after he had looked after her – not that she remembered, but Faith had filled her in on the gaps that she had drunkenly forgot – that he might have gone back to normal. Apologized for being such a jerk and had a joke with her about what an awful drunk she was.
But if anything, he was behaving worse than ever.
Unlike on Buffy's birthday, Dean wanted to go nowhere near the kind of crazed nightclub that they had gone to last time. He was happy instead with his choice of a quiet, low key bar, and as he was the birthday boy, that is where they went.
The only complaint for this came of course from Faith, but even that was halfhearted and lasted less than a minute.
Finishing her – non alcoholic – drink and noticing that Dean was nearing the end of his beer, Buffy stood up and grabbed her purse. "My round," she announced to the table. "Same again, birthday boy?"
Without even looking up from his conversation with Sam, Dean shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, I'm good."
Buffy frowned as she regarded him. "But you've almost finished your drink. Do you want something else instead?"
"I said I'm good," he snapped in response.
Buffy bit back the hurt his attitude towards her was causing. "Okay," she replied in a small voice. "Anyone else want anything?"
Embarrassed on Buffy's behalf, both Sam and Faith gave Buffy their orders, and turned to stare at Dean when she left for the bar.
"What?" he asked offhandedly, as if he didn't know.
Buffy had only been at the bar a minute and had just made her order when she felt someone come up besides her.
She could tell it was Dean even before she turned to look at him.
"I'll have a beer, please," he said pleasantly to the available barmaid.
With an open mouth, Buffy turned to stare at him in confusion. Hadn't she just offered to buy him a drink not two minutes ago? And he had said no, and now he was up here ordering himself a drink. Did she really disgust him so much that he couldn't even accept a drink from her now?
He could feel her watching him, but Dean didn't even spare Buffy a glance. Instead her threw a flirty wink in the barmaid's direction when she caught his eye.
Feeling her heart take that familiar plummet, Buffy quickly paid for her drinks and hurried them back over to their table, setting them down in front of Sam – because Faith had taken off somewhere – and grabbing up her jacket.
"You going somewhere?" Sam asked.
Buffy ignored him, slipping on her jacket and heading towards the exit. She had to get out of there before Dean's obvious dislike of her made her break down entirely.
The second Buffy had walked away from Dean and back over to their table, a smirking Faith had popped up at Dean's side. "Hey, baby-face," she sad teasingly. "How's about getting me nice and drunk and taking advantage of me?"
"What?" Dean asked distractedly, watching Buffy pick up her jacket and wondering what she was doing.
"I said there's another gift waiting for you back at the hotel room," Faith purred, oblivious to his distraction. "I know it's been a while, but why don't we head on back so you can unwrap it." She ran her hands over her body seductively and licked her red lips.
Any other man would have whipped her up and thrown her over his shoulder right then, salivating as he took her back to his bedroom as fast as his little eager little legs could carry him, but Dean didn't even hear her, much less acknowledge her words.
He watched – his heart filling up with shame – as an upset looking Buffy left the bar. He knew without a doubt that he was the cause for her misery. He'd taken it too far this time, he knew it. She'd put up with his attitude ever since they'd left the hospital, and so he'd just kept on pushing. Well, it looked to him like he'd just crossed over the line.
Without even looking at the drink the barmaid had just put down next to him, Dean threw some cash down on the bar and moved towards the doors, intending on following after Buffy. In his haste, he completely brushed off Faith, forgetting she was even there, forgetting everything except for the hurt look upon Buffy's face. As he left the bar, he didn't even remember to pick up the jacket he had left at the table with Sam.
Just as the bar door had swung shut behind him, he found his progress halted when he was yanked back by the strong hand that grabbed a hold of his arm and span him around.
"How long are you gonna keep chasing after her for when I'm right here?" Faith yelled when Dean was facing her. Neither of them needed to specify exactly who 'her' was.
Dean opened his mouth to speak, although what he'd say he had no idea. But before any words could materialize inside his mind his heart gave a painful thud and reminded him that he was wasting time and that if he didn't follow Buffy now he wouldn't be able to find her and then maybe it would be too late. He looked down in the direction of the empty road he assumed she'd taken, and then back at Faith. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully, before pulling away his arm and turning away from her.
Faith watched him jog away, her nostrils flaring and a suspicious burning causing the back of her throat to ache. Blinking, she turned and slammed her way back into the bar.
After a couple of minutes of heading down the same road, Dean eventually came across a cemetery. He remembered how Buffy had once told him that cemeteries held some strange sense of comfort for her, and knew without a doubt that this was where she had gone.
He wasn't wrong. Once he had climbed over the locked gate, it only took him a moment to spot her walking up ahead. "Buffy!" he called loudly, jogging to catch up with her.
Surprisingly, she stopped as soon as she heard his voice and quickly twirled around to face him. Dean was very ashamed to see tears in her pink rimmed eyes.
"Why are you always following me?" she demanded loudly, her voice a little hoarse.
He shook his head blankly and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. "I can't help it," was his simple answer, finally.
Buffy huffed in frustration and sniffed back some tears. "Fine! Be the cryptic answer guy! At least tell me why you're being such a jerk to me! You can do that, right?"
At the sound of her raised voice, Dean lost any composure he might have had left. He lost that final strand of sanity he'd been holding onto ever since he'd met her. "I almost lost you!" he shouted back, throwing his arms into the air as he gave up. "You fell down and there was blood and it was your blood and I almost lost you!"
That hadn't been what Buffy had been expecting at all. Far from it, actually. The two stood in a heavy silence for long moments as they both tried to absorb what he had just admitted. Buffy's heart was beating faster in shock.
Eventually, Dean was the first to make any kind of movement. He sighed in annoyance as he looked off at a space over Buffy's shoulder. "So much for a demon free holiday," he grumbled.
Turning, Buffy also spotted the ill timed vampire, and stalked straight towards him as he approached her.
"Sorry to interrupt this lovers tiff," he said, his voice soft with amusement. "But I am hungry, and I do so love when the blood is pumping harder, much like yours is."
Buffy had no time or patience for witty banter trades. She could have easily staked him straight away – for all his talk it was clear that he wasn't that old or skilled – but the satisfaction she received after punching him in the face the first time was enough incentive to make her carry on beating on him, somewhat viciously. Her mind blanked out as she sent punch after kick his way, her attack to brutal for him to do anything but try and defend himself.
When the vampire dropped to the floor, unconscious, this probably should have been some sort of signal for Buffy to stop her attack and stake him already, but instead she simply dropped down to crouch over him, continuing her crazed attack of punches.
Finally, her mind stopped being so blank and she began to think again, but this did nothing except spur her on. She cried out in anguish as she tried to beat away her frustrations – the way she felt about Dean, the fact that as hard as she tried it just wouldn't go the hell away, how wrong her damned feelings were anyway and what a bitch she was because she was clearly betraying Faith by even having these thoughts.
Dean, stood only a couple of feet away, watched Buffy completely lose control with something approaching horror, hating himself intensely for being the one to cause this. "Buffy," he said, in a quiet, controlled voice. "Stake it. Just stake the vampire."
He wasn't even sure his voice would get through to her, but by the way she gradually stopped her attack and ducked her head, it clearly had.
With slumped shoulders, Buffy finally staked the blood soaked vampire, falling back on to her heels when the deed was done. It was only then that she realized that hot tears were pouring down her cheeks.
Stepping over to her purposefully, Dean bent down and pulled her up by her arms to make her stand, desperate to offer her any kind of comfort.
But Buffy – far too gone and far too enraged – didn't want comfort from him, she wanted nothing from him. With an angry sob, she pushed him away so that he stumbled backwards and went to throw her fist in the direction of his face. But her eyes were so blinded by tears that her aim was way off and Dean was easily able to duck out of the way and grab her fist out of the air and wrap it in his own.
Neither moved for uncountable seconds, both too caught up in a moment that they had no idea how to stop. The world was silent around them – no rustle of the grass, no hiss of the wind, no shuffle of the wildlife. There was nobody else in the entire universe but the two of them, no other feeling except that of electricity, scalding their skin as it sent little sparks down their arms from where their fingers touched.
Of course they'd touched before, but it had never held quite the same weight as it did right now.
Slowly, Dean moved his wrist and spread out Buffy's hand to entwine their fingers, clasping their hands together tightly. His heart was beating hard and fast as he recognized that this was most definitely the moment he had been waiting for ever since Faith had shown him the picture of Buffy way back during the Bloody Mary case. He wondered whether Buffy's own heart was beating just as furiously, and almost imagined he could feel it.
Looking into her eyes, still sparkling from the tears that had now stopped, he moved forwards, bringing their bodies together until they were touching, from breast down to crotch. Without a word, he walked her backwards a mere few paces, until her back was pressed firmly up against a mausoleum wall.
Dean leaned his forehead against Buffy's, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. When his eyes reopened, there was such a look of excitement and fierce determination in them that Buffy felt herself go hot all over. She barely had time to gasp before Dean had brought his mouth down on hers to kiss her furiously. There wasn't a single thought in her mind about rejecting his advances. This was right. Him and her together were just right. Their mouths locked together and she wrapped her spare arm around his neck, pulling him even closer towards her.
Dean ripped his mouth away and began to nibble on the side of her jaw. "You drive me crazy," he panted in-between kisses. "Have done ever since the day we met. Before that. Absolutely freakin' crazy."
Letting go of her hand, he grasped her head between the two of his, threading his fingers through her hair and kissing her forehead. "I almost lost you," he choked out, kissing her nose. "Almost lost you." Her cheeks. "Almost lost you." Her eyelids. "Lost you." Her jaw.
By this time, his own uncontrollable tears were falling, mixing in with the salt trains her own tears had left on her cheeks, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.
And that's when Buffy knew. She knew that the next move was hers, and she knew that once she made it her life was never going to be the same again. Dean had that, that ability to change it, and she was pretty sure it would be for the better, despite the consequences. She reached up and grabbed a hold of his cheeks, pushing his face back an inch so that she could look into his eyes.
"You didn't lose me," she breathed. "I'm right here." And then she pulled his lips firmly back on hers.
It was all they needed to let go, and for passion to consume them.
As their tongues battled, Dean pushed forwards so that Buffy was pushed hard against the wall, and he was pushed hard against her. Her feet were lifted up off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as he pressed his jeans covered erection into her crotch. Her hands moved lower and pushed up his t-shirt so that she could run her fingers over the hard lines of his chest, and as they moved higher, she could feel his heart beating underneath her palm.
Taking a much needed gulp of air as he felt Buffy's soft fingers trace his skin, Dean quickly moved one of his hands from where they were supporting her to fumble with the buttons on her jeans. When his object was complete, they struggled together to pull off her jacket, neither willing to part from each other, even for a second. Finally yanking it off, Dean threw it carelessly to the floor behind him while Buffy made a start on trying to free him from his belt. But her fingers were shaking too much to control them enough to get the little clasp undone, and in a bout of frustration she yanked on the belt, ripping it in half.
Dean stopped kissing her neck for a moment to look at her in surprise. "That was the hottest thing I ever saw," he said with a wolfish grin, before capturing her mouth in his own again.
Ripping open his jeans buttons, Buffy used her thigh to push them down to his knees. This time when he pressed into her sex, only his underwear covered his erection and the feel of his hardness against her made her gasp audibly.
Dean groaned as she rubbed herself against him shamelessly.
He wanted to touch her. Touch her all over and make her feel it time and time again, but both knew there was no time. No time for anything but raw desire.
Dean pulled down Buffy's jeans, using his knee and then his foot to get them all the way down. She kicked off one shoe and pushed the jeans off of one of her legs, so that they hung loosely from the other. She pressed her forehead against his as she pushed down his shorts, smiling in triumph when she was finally able to take a hold of him in her hand. She gulped. He was big, hard and hot and she felt a throb of desire and anticipation as he pulsed in her hand.
As Buffy stroked him, Dean tried to control his pants, but it was difficult when she was touching him, finally. It was amazing, and sexy, and beautiful, and every single good thing in the entire world. It was heaven. He thrust into her hand and squeezed his eyes closed as she tightened her grip.
Reopening them when he was better able to control himself, he looked down, slightly perturbed that she was still more clothed than he was. He loved her underwear, he really did. It was skimpy and pretty and girly and red – which if he had to chose a favorite color would probably be it – and withing a second had been ripped in two by his eager hands and tossed to the ground.
And then there was nothing more keeping them apart. No more clothes, no more barriers.
Holding his breath and keeping his eyes locked onto hers, Dean lifted Buffy up and slid her down onto his hard length.
"Hoh God," he sighed, as he filled her up and she covered him in her warmth.
Neither moved for the longest time, too overcome by new sensations. Obviously they had both had sex with other people before, but – and maybe it was just because they had both wanted each other for so long, or maybe it was because deep down they new that they had been made for one another – it had never felt like this before. Never felt so perfect, so right, so complete, so totally and utterly heavenly.
Pressing his damp forehead against hers, Dean slowly began to move, pulling himself out of her and back in again. Out and in, out and in. In and out.
Once again, Buffy wrapped her legs around him, her thighs squeezing at his hips. She clung onto his shoulder with one hand, and with the other she grasped at the wall so as to steady herself.
She'd known Dean was big in the downstairs department. She'd been able to tell all those times they'd slept in the same room and he'd paraded around in just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. But as he filled her up inside, big took on a whole new meaning. He seemed to fill her every spot, and she imagined he'd been made just for her. Her muscles tightened around him as this thought warmed her heart, and she whispered it to him in his ear.
"I was," Dean promised, letting out a pleasured grunt as she squeezed him. "I was made for you. Only for you. And you for me." He began to quicken his pace, and pushed into her harder and deeper than before, causing Buffy's breath to hitch and her eyesight to blur.
She tightened her legs around him, moving with him and encouraging him to go even faster. Dean didn't disappoint.
The cemetery around them was silent, the only noise to be heard was their matching gasps and pants and a dull thudding sound as Buffy's back was repeatedly slammed into the mausoleum wall. She'd most likely be bruised the next day, she knew that, but she didn't care a single bit. In fact, with each bang and dull thud of pain, she only felt her pleasure mounting.
Neither cared that they were out in the open and not so far from the gates leading out into the public. Anyone could be watching, anyone could catch them, but they were far too caught up in each other to even recognize this.
Needing to touch her, Dean slipped one of his hands underneath her shirt and bra to caress her soft skin, brushing his thumb over her nipple and softly squeezing her breast in his palm.
Buffy cried out in ecstasy and her head dropped back against the wall. Removing her hand from his shoulder, she slid it under his t-shirt and over his back, her nails scratching at his skin and leaving pink tracks along his shoulder blades.
Dropping her head forwards again, she rested her forehead on Dean's shoulder and whispered "Harder," to him.
Dean complied, the sound of her voice in his ear causing wonderful shivers to race playfully over his skin. He was panting, never before having gone so hard or fast with any woman, not even the rougher ones. It was fucking fantastic. Later on he'd muse that he'd never even taken Faith so hard, but she was far from his mind right at that moment.
His thrusts became stronger, and his grunts became louder each time he filled her, each time he entered her right to the hilt. He wanted more than anything to make this last forever, and he promised himself next time it would – because dammit there would be a next time, even if he had to move heaven and earth to accomplish it – but being inside her for the first time just felt so good, and he needed her so much. Moving his hand from her breast to where they were joined, he used his skilled fingers to manipulate her clit, rubbing and pinching and causing Buffy to wail out her bliss. Her movements against him became wilder and harsher, and her eyes turned glassy as her pants and moans grew louder. The dizzy sensation of pleasure grew inside of her, bigger and wider and straining at the seams until finally it exploded and Buffy cried out, squeezing Dean even harder with her muscles as bright stars flashed before her eyes.
It was only as she was coming down that she realized that Dean was still moving inside of her, and she leaned forwards to rest her face on his neck. She inhaled his scent – a mix of aftershave and beer and the slight, salty aroma of sweat – and she couldn't resist biting down on his neck, touching her tongue to his skin to see if he tasted as good as he smelt. He did.
The feel of her teeth nibbling on his neck was all it took for Dean to follow her over the edge and into oblivion.
"Holy shit!" he cried out, his voice deep and hoarse. He came with a final thrust. As he shot his seed into her, he continued to pump a few more times, until he was completely spent and his thrusts began to slow down, finally stopping altogether.
As their minds began to clear and they were able to think rationally again, both slowly became stunned over what had just happened, although neither made any effort to move. They weren't even sure they could if they wanted to.
Eventually, Dean was the first to shift. He rested his forehead against hers, liking the way that their breaths mingled as they panted together.
Still joined, the pair slid slowly down the mausoleum wall and onto the floor. Dean knew they should move, at least somewhere more private, but as he pulled her down to lay with him on the floor and she rested her head on his outstretched arm, he found he just didn't have the will to do so. He pulled her closer so that they were entwined and kissed her languidly, letting his tongue run slowly over hers, exploring her mouth more intimately than he had given himself time for before. Breaking away, Buffy began to place soft, sweet kisses along his neck. She paused at the spot she had bitten earlier and sucked on it gently.
Dean felt himself began to harden again inside her already, and with a toothy grin, he rolled them over so that he was on top of her.
Before he began to move once more, he took a moment to look down at her. Mussed hair, flushed cheeks, swollen lips, thoroughly sexed up. This was the only place he ever wanted to be. Here, with her. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the demon, not his father, not even the whole damned world.
Nothing mattered but her.
