Bobby's Daughter
I do not own anything you recognize…
Chapter Eleven
We got back to my house and I patched Sammy up. We let him sleep on the couch so we could keep an eye on him. Hopefully, he'd wake up soon since his injuries were more like the dog's bark compared to its bite.
"Dean," I said, standing up and grabbing the first aid supplies we used on Sam. Sam was lying on the couch while Dean and I had been sitting on the coffee table next to it, patching up the younger Winchester. "Come on. Let me take the knife out of you."
I placed my free hand on his arm, but he jerked it away. "No. I'm fine."
"Dean."
He glanced up at me. "Alright." He followed me into the kitchen. I set up my supplies on the counter next to the sink while he leaned against the opposite side of the sink.
I grabbed the whisky he had started on last night. "This is gonna hurt," I told him and handed him the bottle. He took it with his good arm and downed a gulp.
"Bring it on."
I grabbed the knife in one hand and rested my other against his arm to steady myself. "Ready?" He nodded. "On three. One, two." I pulled. He groaned in pain. The anguish was easily seen on his face. I dropped the knife in the sink and grabbed the whisky bottle. "Drink," I told him, holding it up to his mouth.
He did as I said.
I set to work putting on antibiotics and sterilizing the wound. I placed the dressing on, finally. He winced in pain as I gently pushed on it. "Sorry," I told him.
I went to move away, but he grabbed my hip. "Don't be," he said gently. "Thanks."
"No problem," I said with a slight smile as we watched the other's eyes.
That's when it happened.
His lips on mine. My arms around his neck. His hands on my ass, pulling me closer. Tongues clashing.
He pinned me to the kitchen sink before deciding better of it and plopping me up on the counter.
Twenty minutes later, we were just about to head south of the border.
My shirt was God-knows-where and his was probably in the same area too. Shoes were kicked off and all that remained was jeans.
We had moved from the kitchen to the dining room table – it was around there that my shirt got lost – and up the stairs. Once we reached the top step, he fell on me. That's when my hands went to the zipper on his jeans.
"Dean," I moaned as he started to kiss my neck. I swear I could feel the slight smirk on his lips.
"Sydney," he breathed.
There went the zipper on his jeans and down they went.
"Dean? Dean," we heard Sam call.
Dean pulled back. "Sammy, I'll be right there." Dean gave me a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back. "Later," he whispered in my ear.
Pop References:
One: "Bring it on" was a movie.