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His ash blonde hair was messy as can be, standing up into the air in weird angles.
The muscles of his face and body were relaxed, his expression vacant.
A smile settled on your lips as you watched your boyfriend shift and grumble in the bed. The sun was sending its first soft rays of light through the window into the motel room and the dust was dancing in the air illuminated by it.
You put the dish down on the nightstand and crawled back underneath the blanket.
Dean turned and instinctively wrapped his arms around you.
"Where've ya been?", he muttered into the crook of your neck.
"Kitchen." Your bare toes found his ankles and he grunted at the cold impact. He kicked your feet away and you rubbed them together in an attemt to warm them up.
You chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.
"I made breakfast," you whispered.
He hummed.
"Let's have it in bed."
He raised his brows and opened one eye sleepily. "We never have breakfast in bed."
"Today we do."
"How come I'm in this lucky situation?" He nibbed on the skin of your shoulder.
"You don't know what day it is?"
"No... uh, 13th of February?"
"14th, actually."
"Hm."
There was a pause.
"You really don't know."
"I'm sorry, should I? It's not your birthday."
"No, it's not. Wow, you still amaze me."
"Yeah, I know, I'm amazing."
"Idiot."
"Mhm, but you love me."
"Yeah, that's why I made pie, my little idiot."
He now opened both eyes, face shining with joy. What a child. His excitement was adorable.
The two of you sat up in the bed and you reached for the dish.
It was filled with a plate, two sets of cutlery, a freshly baked pie, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and juice.
Dean was astonished for a moment.
"Wow." It was the single most adorable thing he'd ever said - the surprised and impressed tone, the shine in his green eyes.
You chuckled and pecked his neck.
The two of you didn't take long to finish it and almost didn't even have a food fight. Almost.
"That was 100% the best breakfast I've ever had. In my entire life."
Of course, Dean didn't really have a good comparison either (the boys were basically living off cheap diner food) but the comment still flattered you.
Laughing, you placed the dish back on the nightstand and stole a kiss from Dean - he tasted like pie.
"I love you," he muttered against your lips and butterflies seemed to be raging in your stomach.
"Hm. Cuz of the food or cuz of me?"
"Both." His deep voice vibrated in your ears. He pulled you back into the sheets with him and you were warm and content and happy and-
The door opened.
"Dean, Y/N?" Sam's voice broke the comfortable silence.
Dean and you groaned at the same time.
"What?!", Dean snapped at his little brother who was significantly taller than him, so 'little' was definitely not the right adjective.
You buried your face in Dean's chest.
"Sorry to break you two lovebirds up, but we have another murder. Just down the street."
Dean huffed annoyedly, falling back into the sheets.
This case had turned out more serious than the three of you had expected. Both of you knew, it was important.
"I'm coming," Dean said and Sam left again, probably purposefully leaving the door open just a bit.
You pushed yourself off him with a groan.
"Alright, soon as this case is all done we can continue where we left off," you said.
"That a promise?" Dean smirked.
You kissed his smiling lips. "Yes."
You slipped out of your bathrobe and into your jeans and sweatshirt instead and he got dressed as well.
You enjoyed stealing little glances while he did so - watching how he slipped into his jeans and tee and buttoned up his plaid shirt, running his hands through his hair in the mirror.
"You ready?", you asked, leaning in the doorframe.
He nodded.
"Good, let's take care of business, then," you said and grabbed a gun from the dresser.
He swallowed.
You noticed his glance.
"What?"
"You know I don't like you going on hunts..."
You rolled your eyes with a sigh. Not again. It was cute of him that he worried so much, for sure, but you were a professional hunter and you didn't want to have this discussion again.
"I don't want to think of you every time we're on a case, knowing that you're putting yourself in danger," he was just saying when you cut him off.
"Well, though shit, Dean. Because I'm a hunter and guess what I don't like it when you're out on hunts either, but at least we're not helpless- Don't you DARE comment on how I'm a woman and therfore weaker, Dean!" He closed his mouth again. "We're going to go out there and kill that son of a bitch. Together. You know it's no use having this conversation. I'm not staying home, Dean."
He was silenced, but his eyes were still fixing you worriedly and a little bit upset.
Four hours later
"Dean, I'm fine, put me down."
Dean didn't even make a move to do so. He was carrying you in his arms, his jacket wrapped around your shoulders.
You knew he was in more pain than you were.
"Dean! Put me down. I'm good!"
He didn't respond.
You wiggled.
"Stop budging," he said and you sighed.
Only when the three of you had arrived at the car, he put you down.
"Thanks!", you said sarcastically and added quietly, but loud enough for him to hear, "Finally."
The three of you got into the car. From the back seat, you could watch how Dean clenched his jaw in pain in the rear view mirror.
"Dean, let me drive," Sam said and you thanked him for it in your thoughts.
Luckily, Dean agreed and when Sam slipped in on the drivers side, Dean got in in the back, settling next to you.
Sam started the car and for a long time there was nothing but the purring of Baby's motor.
Finally, you spoke up, "Dean, I'm okey. Okey?"
That was what broke him.
He turned around, snapping, "You could have died, Y/N! If it hadn't been for Sammy, you'd be dead. Six feet under. Finito, you get me?!"
"But Sam was there and I'm not dead, Dean."
"I told you I had a bad feeling about this!"
"Dean, you say that every time."
"So what if I have a bad feeling every time?!"
"It's the job, Dean! Our job. I'm sorry if you can't live with the fact that you don't have to lie to me about what you do for a living!"
"That's not what it's about, Y/N!"
"Is it not?!"
"No, this is about you being at all involved in this bullshit!"
"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating me! I would have been fine on my own, too! Without some control freak trying to keep me from doing my fucking job!"
There was silence.
The two of you exchanged deadly glares.
Then, there was more silence.
Guilt settled in your guts.
The silence stayed throughout the entire day.
You took a shower without him and it was boring.
You crept back into your bed without him and it was cold.
You tried to read a book, but your mind kept replaying the fight.
After having read one sentence for the forth time, still without actually knowing what it said, you closed the book and sighed deeply.
You checked the time. Almost two hours had passed since the argument.
There was a knock on the door. You startled up.
"Y/N, it's me," Sam's voice came dull from the other side of the wooden door.
"Come in."
Sam stood in the doorway and as you gave him a small smile, he took a step into the room and closed the door behind him.
"Hi."
"Hey," he gave back and pulled up a chair, sitting next to the bed.
"You know Dean didn't mean it, right?"
You rolled your eyes.
"What are you? His owl, Hedwig?"
Sam scoffed. "Come on now. It sucks when he is the way he is right now."
"Not in the room? I don't know, kinda enjoying that actually."
"Y/N. Please."
You looked down. Of course you missed him. Already.
"He was worried, that's all," Sam continued.
"Why can't he just come tell me that himself, then?", you asked quietly.
Sam sighed. "You know my brother, Y/N. Not exactly the best at apologies."
"Yeah. Or Valentine's day presents."
"Y/N, I'm just saying... it would be- Well, I'd appreciate it if you at least tried to talk to him."
You raised an eyebrow.
"C'mon. Do it for me?" He smiled a crooked smile.
You sighed defeatedly. "Alright. I'll try. Maybe. Later."
"Thank you."
He left and you found yourslef alone in the middle of a whirlwind of emotions and as you closed your eyes you thanked Sam for being who he is and where he is and what he's like - for the third time that day.
He was an awesome brother. Totally worth a chat with Dean. Right?
* * *
"Dean," you said softly.
He looked up from his beer.
"Hey." He sounded uninterested and it made you sigh.
You sat down on the couch, right next to him.
"What?", he said.
"Dean, stop being cold for fuck's sake."
He raised his brows and turned to face you.
"Me? You're telling me that?!"
"Look, Dean-"
"No, you know what? Maybe this whole ignoring thing was good. Maybe it's true, you don't need me!"
You scoffed. "Dean, that was something I said in the heat of the moment! It's not true, ok? I need you..." You broke off and reached out for him.
He moved again and you pulled your hand back as he glared at you with his apple green eyes.
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you pushed me away, Y/N," he said loudly.
You flinched.
His eyes widened at the realization of what he'd just said and how it had scared you.
"Dean..." You furrowed your brows, your voice very quiet now. "Please. I didn't mean it, I know you just wanted to protect me and sometimes I can be an idiot, ok? And I... I don't know what I'd do without you, Dean. Please..."
He swallowed and seemed to slump together a little, his shoulders hanging.
You raised a hand to brush it over his cheek, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb.
"I'm sorry."
The next moment, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, drowning in his cologne.
"I was so scared, Y/N," he said into your hair. You snaked your arms around him, leaning into the hug.
He continued, "I don't know what I'd have done if you..." You could hear he was at the verge of crying. "I need you, too, Y/N. I'm sorry. I just... if you... it would have been my fault. It was my fault you got into the situation at all."
You clenched onto his shirt. "No, it wasn't, Dean," You looked up at his eyes. They were red with tears. "I chose this life like you did."
He exhaled. "I didn't chose this life, Y/N."
"Exactly."
Realization appeared in his eyes. You smiled sadly.
"And besides, let's not make up scenarios. We're here. We're alive. And together."
A small smile on his lips, he rested his forehead against yours.
"I love you."
"I love you, too." You pressed a kiss on his lips.
"Hey, you know what?", he said against your lips.
"What?"
"It's still Valentine's day."
"...yeah?"
"Wanna be my Valentine?"
You chuckled. "I wanna be your everything."
"Hm." He smiled. "You are. But tonight you're gonna be the beautiful girl that I'm taking out for dinner."
"Lucky me."
He leant in again, his kisses turning more passionate.
You tangled your hands in his hair and he pulled you onto his lap.
"Please don't take me anywhere fancy," you breathed.
"Why not?" He frowned.
"Because you're Dean Winchester and that means we're not going out for sushi at a 4 star resaurant, we're going out for burgers and fries at my favourite diner. And have a dance battle."
"I love you, Y/N, but I ain't dancing."
"We'll see about that..."
He nibbed on your earlope and whispered, "I not going to dance."
"Hm, guess I'll just have to dance with another guy, then," you said, shrugging.
He gasped, overdoing his shock.
You chuckled.
"Wait, though." Your tone got more serious. He looked up.
"I need to get ready first."
He pouted.
"You, too, sir. I messed up your hair pretty bad - guilty as charged - and I have no shame whatsoever." You grinned and climbed off his lap.
He growled, but let you slip away.
"If you have no shame, what's your problem with just going out right away, then?", he called behind you.
Shaking your head, you ignored it.
After having done your hair and make-up (simple, suttle, but still stunning) and put on a fresh shirt (tighter than the one you'd been wearing before), you went over to Sam's room.
The younger Winchester brother raised his head was you walked in, closing the laptop gently.
"Hey, what's up?"
You smiled and leaned against the wall.
"I just wanted to thank you. For saving my life and... saving my relationship with Dean, too."
He returned your smile.
"Hey, no problem. I'm just happy the two of you are back together. Dean's a nightmare when he's not with you!"
You raised your brows and laughed.
But the serious look that suddenly appeared on Sam's face made you stop.
"Honestly," he said, "You're good for him. He is more considerate, more concentrated around you. More relaxed. And happier, which is something nobody's ever managed before, so Chapeau!"
You were speechless for a moment.
"Th-thanks."
He smiled. "Love having you as a family member, Y/N."
You smiled back. "Yeah. Feeling's mutual."
"Have a nice evening," he said, "And if you get Dean to dance, PLEASE send me a video!"
"Alright." You left the room, laughing and Dean was already waiting for you in the hallway.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, babe." You snaked your arm around his. "Let's go!"
* * *
The car ride was pleasant and full of inside jokes and he looked so good in the sloft light of the moon and the street lanterns that it took you a great amount of self control to not make out with him on the spot.
"Et voilá, the favourite diner of m'lady." He parked the car and got the door for you gentlemanly.
"Thank you, sir."
He had his hand on the small of your back and for a moment, he just stood there.
"What?", you asked.
"You look stunning tonight," he whispered.
"I look stunning every night, but I will accept the compliment."
The two of you exchanged a grin and shared a small kiss before entering the diner and slipping into a booth together.
"You don't look so bad yourself," you told him when the two of you had ordered.
His eyes darkened and a smirk appeared on his lips.
"Don't look at me like that, we haven't even started eating yet."
It still astouned you how Dean was absoloutely the only person who could eat a burger and not look completely unsexy while doing so.
When he was finished, he started stealing fries from your plate.
"Hey, stop it!"
He pouted.
"Oh, look!" He pointed out the window.
"Dean, I'm not falling for that."
"No, seriously, there's a shooting star!" His eyes were fixed on the sky.
You looked up and out of the window.
He was right.
There was a shooting star.
"What'd you wish for?", Dean's voice sounded muffled and when you looked back you saw he'd stolen fried again.
"For you to stop stealing fries," you joked, but let him continue eating. You weren't so hungry anymore anyways.
"What did you wish for?" You took a sip of your beer.
"For you to not have me get drunk enough to start dancing," he said.
You laughed.
"I don't need to get you drunk."
He raised a brow.
"Watch me." You winked and it made something inside him burn like crazy.
You walked over to the dance floor and started moving to the music that was coming from the jukebox in the corner.
It didn't take long until the one thing happened that you'd anticipated: A random guy, not so tall, round face, a smirk on his lips, dark hair falling in strays onto his light skin, started dancing next to you.
You let him do it, not exactly dancing or grinding with him, but also quite obviously not rejecting him.
You sneaked a glance at Dean. His eyes were fixed on you and the stranger, anger burning in them.
You smiled a little. You'd almost cracked him.
The guy made a move to dance up on you from behind and it took Dean only a second to be in front of him, tall and broad as he was.
"Ey, dude, what's your problem? I was dancing with that chick!"
Dean's hands were itching. "That chick as you call it, is my girlfriend, you son of a bitch. So, get. Lost."
The guy seemed to be shitting his pants now, suddenly realizing that the tall Texan dude was threatening him.
Smiling, you danced up to Dean.
"Don't just stand there! You're on the dance floor!"
You grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on your hips.
He sighed. "I hate you."
"No, you don't," you smirked.
The song changed and you quickened your pace. He easily followed, body moving gracefully and loosely over the dance floor.
"So you can dance!"
"Shut up."
You swirled him around.
"Where'd you learn it?"
"I was in high school, too, believe it or not. It's not like I spent a lot of time actually attending it, but there was a hot girl in the dancing class and I thought What the hell? Why not?"
You chuckled. That sounded just like him.
"And you haven't forgotten everything?"
"Well, you get back into it." He took some steps, leading you.
For a while, the two of you continued moving, but then a techno beat came on.
"I'm hot, I'll go get a drink," you suggested and slipped out of his arms.
To your surprise, he didn't stop bobbing his body slightly to the music. In a moment where he didn't look, you quickly snapped a short video and sent it to Sam with the caption, "HE'S NOT EVEN DRUNK!"
You ordered two beers and your phone vibrated as Sam sent you a "Wish I was there." And a few laughing emojis.
"Hey, baby, you from Mars?" A hoarse voice said next to you. You looked up.
"What?"
"Cuz your ass is from another world, babe," the guy grinned.
You furrowed your brows.
"You can piss off. I'm here with my boyfriend."
"Oh, really? I ain't seeing your boyfriend."
You rolled your eyes. "He's right the-" You stopped. You'd wanted to point at the dance floor, but Dean was gone.
"Oh, did he leave without you? You know I, for one, would never do that!"
You ignored the guy and narrowed your eyes at the other people on the dancefloor. Maybe he'd just gone to the toilet.
Suddenly, you felt the stranger grabbing your wrist.
"Let me go," you said calmly.
"Or what?"
"This is my last warning. Let. Me. Go."
The guy didn't even think of it.
More annoyed that upset, you freed your arm with a simple technique and slapped the guy across the face.
"Fucking bitch!" He spat and looked at you, wild with fury. He stroke back his fist.
Bored, you blocked the punch and threw one back, hitting his solar plexus.
"Ah!"
He doubled over and puked.
"Ew." You walked away into the direction of the men's restrooms.
"Dean?!"
No response.
"Dean?!"
Suddenly someone yelled behind you. "Madame! Stop right there, hands up where I can see 'em!"
You sighed, but put your hands up.
The security guard threw you out, muttering something about violence and how it wasn't self defence and you didn't even bother listening.
You had more urgent problems than having been thrown out of a diner. Dean was gone you didn't know where.
In the cool air of the night, you pulled your jacket tighter around you and looked around.
"Dean?!"
The Impala was still on the parking lot. Thank God! He couldn't be too far.
But what had happened? You considered worse scenarios. He was kidnapped by a demon, he was possessed by a demon, a shapeshifter had lured him in...!!
You heard the door of the diner being opened and looked up.
"Dean!"
"Y/N! What the hell happened?"
"I could ask you the same! Where have you been?"
"On the toilet! The barkeeper told me you started a fight?!"
You waved it off. "There was this guy- it doesn't matter, ok? He got what he deserved."
He frowned and you couldn't help but hug him. "I'm just glad you're ok."
"Of course I'm ok. Why wouldn't I be ok?" He placed his hands on your back, confusedly returning the hug.
You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent - strong cologne, leather and beer.
"I may have gotten a little scared when you just disappeared," you muttered.
"What did you say?"
"I said, I was maybe a little startled when you just disappeared."
The chuckle that ran through his body vibrated against you.
"I'm ok. Let's go, princess." He kissed your forehead and led you to the car.
During the ride back, the two of you listened to his records and sang along to AC/DC and Led Zepplin loudly.
At some point, he pulled over and turned off the music and the car and suddenly everything was very quiet.
"What are we doing?", you asked.
The two of you were somewhere next to the highway, surrounded by forest and to your right a slope.
"Come," he said and led you around the car. He grabbed your waist and lifted you onto the hood. Then, he jumped up next to you and laid down.
You lay with him on the black polish, gazing into the stars. Shivering, you cuddled up to him and he wrapped an arm around you. Warmth radiated off him.
The stars were twinkling above you and you pointed at some constellations, naming them. He listened to your voice.
After a while, you fell silent, not knowing any more constellations. Contently, you listened to his heartbeat next to your ear and his breath in the dark.
"Happy Valentine's day, baby," he said into the comfortable silence and kissed the side of your face.
You turned to kiss his lips and touch his side.
You hummed.
He leant in, grabbing you gently and kissing you harder. His tongue flicked into your mouth and his hands wandered down your body.
You shuddered. "You should take me stargazing more often."
"I call it Y/N-gazing," he whispered back and the way he said your name made you squirm a little.
"Let's continue this someplace warmer," you muttered and slipped one hand underneath his shirt, feeling his steel muscles straining against the smooth skin.
He nodded his agreement and picked you up.
The two of you found yoursleves in the back seat of the Impala, breathing heavily. Touching. Teasing. Kissing and muttering sweet nothings that turned into screams of pleasure.
When you were done, the windows were all white with condensation apart from the hand prints you'd left.
"I say this day took some turns," you huffed, exhausted and happy.
He muttered something and nuzzled his nose into your hair.
The two of you arrived at home, content and laughing and a bit dizzy with everything that had happened.
After a quick shower that both of you took at the same time and that involved quite some kisses and love bites, you slipped into bed with him, cuddling.
He was warm and he smelled good and he was holding you in a firm embrace.
"Happy Valentine's day," you muttered just before you fell asleep, safe and sound in his arms.