Meg and Cas hadn't moved from where Y/N had left them. They looked up when they heard her, but stayed silent. Cas looked like a kicked puppy, whilst Meg looked at Y/N with a mixture of pity and annoyance.
Y/N returned to her seat, and the three sat in silence until Dean appeared from the back about twenty minutes later.
His hands were in his pocket, and his usual grin was firmly in place. It didn't move until he noticed the dour mood hanging over his friends. "Why the long faces?"
Cas refused to make eye contact with his friend, whilst Meg just downed her drink. Y/N sighed and stood, smiling softly at Dean. She picked up her bag with one hand and held out the other. "I'll explain in the car."
Dean stared at her empty hand like it was a pit of snakes.
She sighed before walking over and pulling his hand out of his pocket and pointedly ignoring the cuts along his knuckles. "Anyone would think you didn't like me, Dean," she teased.
He shrugged, his smile a bit more strained. "Who wouldn't like you?"
She snuggled into his side. "You clearly don't know me well enough, then."
"Well, we'll have to change that."
She smiled genuinely at that, happy to have her regular Dean back, even if only a little bit. "C'mon, you kept me waiting long enough. Good night, you two," she waved to their friends back at the bar. They were still a little stiff, but wished genuine good nights to them.
As they walked to Dean's car, Y/N ran her thumbs over his knuckles without thinking. He let out a hiss of pain and a curse between his teeth.
"Sorry!" she brought his hand up closer to her.
"Uh," he scrambled for an excuse. "I, um, I had—"
"Dean," she interrupted. "I know, alright? I heard you all earlier."
He stopped in his tracks at that. "You…you heard?"
"Yeah. Crowley even spoke to me after he caught me."
Dean's other hand immediately left his pocket and reached up to cup Y/N's face. His stupidly green eyes searched her face, even turning it with his hand every once in a while to inspect every inch of it.
"He didn't hurt me, Dean, don't worry. Just threats."
"He'll back them up, Y/N."
"I know."
There was a beat of silence before Dean spoke again. "I didn't want you to find out."
She shrugged. "Don't worry about it."
He frowned. "Don't worry about it?"
She looked up at Dean, making eye contact for the first time. "I know you're a good man, Dean Winchester, no matter what Crowley makes you do. Now, let me take you home and get these hands of yours cleaned up."
He seemed awestruck, like a meteor shower had interrupted his regular old stargazing.
She squirmed slightly, but didn't get a chance to say anything.
Before she could really think, his lips were brushing up against hers. Those amazingly plush lips she had been fantasizing about since the moment she met him were pressed ever so gently against hers.
He pulled away a moment later and, without thinking, Y/N's hands were on his neck and pulling him back against her. Like hell was she going to pass on this opportunity.
The hand she hadn't been holding was gripping her hip like a lifeline, shoving the two of them as close together as possible. The hand that Y/N had dropped was clutching the hair at the nape of her neck, angling her head for the best possible position.
Fire burned under her skin and she could hardly breathe. She felt herself being pressed up against ice cold metal of what was undoubtedly Dean's car, but it did nothing to cool her down.
She finally had to pull away when she felt she might pass out. Dean followed her for a split second as they separated, breathing as heavily as her.
His hand left the nape of her neck to cup her cheek and he let his forehead fall lightly against hers. Silence hung in the air for what was probably the longest moment of her life before she finally breathed out a "Wow."
He chuckled at that. "Been wantin' to do that since I saw you."
She huffed out a laugh. "Same here, handsome."
His eyes finally opened and locked with hers. "I…I want you to be my girl."
She bit her bottom lip, trying to reign in her excitement. "I didn't hear a question there."
He groaned playfully, the hand on her hip pulling her even closer, if possible. "Please?"
"Well, how could I resist?"
She wasn't entirely sure how she got here.
Dean had managed to convince her to join him at his apartment to fix up his hands, and even offered to let her stay the night.
She'd agreed, mostly because he had his lips against her neck and, really, how was she supposed to focus on anything else?
So, now, she was standing in the hallway outside of his apartment, and he was fumbling with his keys with his left hand, as his right hand hadn't managed to separate itself from hers just yet.
When they finally entered, Y/N smiled softly. It was a small place, to be sure. It was barely filled, with a tiny kitchen off to the left, a living room just part that, and what looked to be the bedroom and bathroom off to the left. In the living room sat a small loveseat in front of a TV set. A bookshelf sat off to the right, its shelves filled with pictures and a few token books.
What really made it seem like Dean's place, however, was the phonograph in the corner, with a shelf stuffed with records.
He led her over to the loveseat, offering her a drink. She asked only for water, her throat already dry enough.
He disappeared into his bedroom for a moment before returning with a basic first aid kid, then went off to the kitchen.
Thankfully, there was a low coffee table made of a dark wood sitting in front of the loveseat, so Y/N pulled out everything she needed.
Dean announced his presence to her by holding out the small glass of water, which she took gratefully.
He sat down beside her with his own glass of appeared to be whiskey. He laid back against side of the couch, and took a large gulp of his drink.
"You know, it won't hurt that bad, Dean," she teased, putting hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton bud.
He chuckled. "With how rough you were bein' earlier, I don't wanna take any chances."
She turned bright red at that. She tried to stutter out a comeback, but instead, mumbled out a "C'mere" and took his free hand in hers.
He only let out a light hiss when the cotton swab brushed gently over his knuckles. Y/N carefully dabbed at all his knuckles before pulling out some bandages. She wrapped his hand as tightly as she could without hurting him.
When she finished that hand, it fell on the back of the couch, almost around her shoulders. He pushed himself impossibly closer, placing his now-finished drink onto the coffee table before holding out his right hand.
She didn't say anything about his proximity, instead focusing entirely on cleaning up his dominant hand. Sure, she could practically feel his eyes boring into her, but she had to make sure Dean was okay first.
His left arm fell slowly off the couch, his fingers trailing feather-light down her arm to her waist. As Y/N finished up, his hand slipped around to the small of her back.
"Dean…" the word was supposed to be a warning, but it came out more as a moan.
The bastard smirked before pulling her close and slanting his lips over hers. Y/N dropped the last of the bandages she was holding and to grab hold of his shirt. The idea of separating from Dean was suddenly the most horrifying thing she could've thought of.
Before this evening, Y/N had never even had the occasion to kiss a man, let alone pull at him so wantonly. It seemed as if he was consuming her, bit by bit, and she wanted nothing more than to let him.
She only pulled away to trail her lips along the side of his jaw and down his neck, as he had done earlier. She was nothing if not a quick study.
"Should we take this into the bedroom?"
That stopped her cold.
She nearly leapt out of Dean's arms, putting as much distance as possible between the two of them.
His face was filled with several emotions, the chief ones being confusion and concern (followed closely by lust). "Y/N?"
"Um," she began, already searching for the words to describe what was wrong. Lord knows he hadn't done anything wrong.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he began almost immediately. "I didn't mean to rush you or anything. I just—"
"God, Dean," she shook her head. "No, it's just…you have been amazing. I just…I've never…"
"Oh," his eyebrows raised to match the higher octave his voice had taken on. "Oh, I…"
"I mean, I'd never even kissed a boy before, and—"
"Whoa, you're tellin' me that you ain't ever even kissed somebody?" he smiled. "Shit, doll, you were sure actin' like it."
She flushed at that, but laughed anyway. "Well, I had an excellent partner."
Dean stood, his smirk losing a bit of its original mirth. "I'm sorry, doll. We don't have to do anything tonight, okay?"
She relaxed at that and even reached for his hand. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I should've said something earlier."
He took her hand in his. "You already agreed to be mine, that's enough. For now." he added with a wink.
She chuckled, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her head into his chest. "Thank you."
His hands wrapped around her waist, fingers linking together at the small of her back. She felt a feather light kiss placed at the top of her head.
Finally, Y/N pulled away and grinned. "C'mon, we need some sleep if we wanna deal with all the comments about this," the motioned between them. "Tomorrow."
Dean laughed. "Please, I've been dealin' with Gabe's comments since you started."
She pushed herself fully out of Dean's arms, moving to pack up all the first aid items she'd left spread out haphazardly all over his coffee table. "Sounds about right. Sorry about that."
He shrugged. "Come on, clean that up tomorrow."
She didn't even pretend to fight him on that. "Do you have a pillow and a blanket I can borrow?"
"Yeah, on the bed."
She flushed a bit at that. "Dean…"
"What? I didn't think we wouldn't be sharing the bed tonight!" he cried in self-defense.
She frowned, feel more than a little guilty. "…good point."
He threw an arm around her shoulder, leading her to the bedroom. "Don't worry about it. I'll stay out on the couch, and you'll get the bed."
She shook her head. "No, I can take the couch, Dean. You're much too tall for it."
He shrugged, acting incredibly nonchalant. "I'll be fine. Won't be the first time."
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "You're sure?"
He opened the door to the bedroom, revealing a rather large bed that barely fit in the small apartment. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, pulling away before either of them got caught up in it. He walked over to the dresser shoved into the corner. He pulled out not only his pajamas, but one of his shirts for her to sleep in.
She took the shirt and repaid him with a soft smooch, one of the blankets from the bed, and a pillow before he left, closing the door behind him.
She waited a moment before silently fangirling right the fuck out.