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He's looking at me again. I can feel his eyes boring into me as I try to concentrate on the meeting enthusiastically taking notes for no other reason than to distract myself from his beauty, his smile and the effect he has on me.
We are in the roadhouse, behind locked doors, meeting with other hunters, planning strategy and swapping notes on the latest demon activity. Joshua, Caleb and Bobby are on one side of the table. My father, Pastor Jim and Ellen are on the other side. Dean is at one end of the table, me at the other.
My father is talking again but I can hear nothing except a rushing sound in my ears. I risk a quick look up and Dean smiles at me. That open loving smile that he reserves for me and me alone. I grin and hope that the others around the table can't hear my heart as it starts to thump loudly in my chest at the sight Dean sitting at the other end of the pushed-together tables.
Bathed in the afternoon sunlight Dean is shining. The light dances across his face softening his angular features making him look younger more fragile than he really is. His short hair is sticking up wildly making him look like he just got out of bed but it is gleaming in the warm sunlight. His pale eyes seem to sparkle as the light bounces off his face. His girlish lips are slightly open and I can see that he is biting nervously at them as he scribbles, probably in his illegible handwriting, in his own notebook. He is beauty personified.
He sits half slumped in his chair totally unaware of his beauty. Unaware of the effect that he has on me. Dean's full attention is on his notebook and I suspect that he is now idly doodling only half listening to my father and the others as they discuss the latest demon activity in Nebraska. He glances across to me again. Mischief is shining in his green eyes and I can feel myself flush under his stare. He is distracting me and he knows it. I try to ignore the desire only I can see in his eyes. Looking back down to my own notebook I find I have unconsciously drawn a heart and curse my brother and my own foolishness.
My father's voice fades into a dull drone as my thoughts insist on turning to my life on the road with Dean. We have been sharing a bed as lovers for over six months now and if I died tomorrow, I know that my last months on earth would have been the happiest I have known for as long as I can remember. Our relationship is not always easy. I can be annoying, irritating and too stubborn for my own good and Dean has a volatile temper and a distinct lack of patience at times. We argue, bicker and snipe at each other over stupid things but our deep abiding love for one another is always there lurking in the background warming and caressing us with its gentleness and constancy. Our love for each other makes us strong. All in all we are happy and content with each other. I can feel myself smiling again. Only last week during a particularly dramatic sunset we pledged ourselves to one another for the rest of our lives. No gold rings symbolise our joining just the silent knowledge that our hearts, bodies, souls and minds are entwined and united as one forever.
It makes me feel warm inside and I find myself thanking whoever up there is in charge of fate for allowing me a second chance, for allowing Dean to come crashing back into my world. He changed my life forever rescuing me from a life I would have settled for but not been happy with. I loved Jessica in my own way. She was my shelter from a world of hunting that I thought I wanted to escape from. But I knew, deep down, that Dean would be the only person that I truly and with all my heart loved.
After Jessica died I resolved to live without love of any kind. Dean was my brother so I thought I couldn't have him little knowing that he felt the same as me. So I wrapped myself up in books, research and hunting ignoring the obvious signs staring me in the face. But Dean is never one to give up easily. He is always so alive with restless and electric energy but this time with me he calmed his usual tendency to rush in guns blazing and patiently coaxed me back to the world and into his arms. He was so beautiful and gentle sharing with me a tenderness he shows no-one else hiding it carefully behind armour that he has constructed over many years. I couldn't resist him and gradually I learned to love again. I opened my heart to him and he in turn rewarded me with his heart. It's a precious gift I plan on cherishing for the rest of my life. I know he would tease me mercilessly and probably protest in an attempt to maintain his cool and brash persona intact but I think he is the most beautiful person I have ever met, both inside and outside.
He is the teacher and I am the student. But in truth Dean has guided me my whole life from childhood to manhood. He is the beacon in the darkness like the lighthouse directing ships away from the rocks. He took my hand and painstakingly and patiently - well Dean's version of patience - guided me through the oldest game in the universe - love. He is a good teacher because he too has known the sorrow and heartache that love can bring. Like me, loneliness was once his only and constant companion. So I listened and followed his lead as he taught me that love could be wonderful and breathtaking in its simplicity, that love doesn't have to bring pain and misery.
I pride myself in being a good student and I learned quickly under his gentle and encouraging tutelage. But I also discovered a lesson for myself along the way. That love has its own rewards. Has wonderful prizes for those bold and brave enough to embrace the subject. But my prize is not money, gold or silver. My only and greatest reward is to lay by his side each night listening to his soft breathing as he sleeps curled into my side. I can almost feel his naked skin against mine as he snuggles close to me each night as if he is afraid I will disappear into the darkness. But I know I will never leave this beautiful man. It's just so hard to convince Dean of his self worth.
I groan inwardly as my body reacts to the thought of Dean's nakedness and I squirm in my chair. My father throws me an angry glare and I dare not look up at Dean because I know that he is smiling at me again.
I try and concentrate my thoughts back to the meeting again but images of Dean insist on bombarding my mind. I give up my inner struggle and allow the memories of our childhood and adulthood to sweep over me warming me with their intensity. Memories of our childhood where Dean was my mother, father, best friend and cool big brother. He taught me how to ride a bike, cooked me my favourite meals, read me bedtimes stories, taught me how to kiss, carried me high on his shoulders and kissed my scraped knees better when I fell over. Recent memories of our time together assail my senses. Our love making, sometimes passionate, sometimes gentle but always filled with love. I hear our laughter and happiness as we snatch a few moments away from the hunt to just be ourselves away from the glare of our two worlds and its unforgiving inhabitants. He was and is my everything. I need nothing else in this world and I know that Dean feels the same.
My attention gradually drifts back to the meeting. Dean is talking, in his usual machine gun rattle style, giving the assembled hunters his slant on the demons and what we should do next. He is volunteering to drive up to Nebraska and check out the reports of the activity. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Even though he is sitting Dean is fidgeting. Full of restless energy he is waving his hands in the air as he talks to emphasise the points he is trying to make. I cast my eyes around the table - they are all listening to him even my father. I feel a stab of pride as I know meetings and groups of people, as Dean would say, are not really his thing.
I turn my attention back to Dean. The light is still shining on him and as he moves shadows play across his face. I squint as Dean moves again. His skin seems to glow, his eyes gleam as green as any emerald and he directs a full smile my way as he gives a run down of the research I have been doing on the demon activity. There is pride in his voice as he hands out the print-outs I ran off the previous evening detailing every sign, reference and newspaper article I could find.
I flush slightly wanting to smile the foolish grin that I know is bubbling up inside me but I carefully compose my face into what Dean calls my serious geek boy face. I manage to nod here and there smiling slightly as I answers questions from the assembled group. Dean flashes me another smile one full of congratulations on a job well done and received by the hardened battle weary hunters as well as one filled with his own brand of loving affection.
I love him so much that it hurts. It hurts that I can't scream out my love for him from the top of every building. Hurts that we have to keep our love a secret from everyone afraid that they would be disgusted by something that we know to be beautiful. The world we live and hunt in is filled with darkness and evil but somehow we have managed to find light in the darkness. Dean is my light and I hope he feels the same about me. Deep down, I know that he does.
I glance up at Dean again to see him pointing out something in my research to Pastor Jim. I cock my head to one side studying him. We are the same yet so different. But somehow against all the obstacles of our past and our innate differences in character and make up love has found a way of breaking down the barriers separating us, uniting us as one forever. Soul mates to the end of our lives and beyond.
My thoughts drift off again and I suddenly decide I am no use to the meeting. "Coffee?" I loudly announce. All eyes turn to me as I get to my feet. There are nods and a request for tea from Pastor Jim. I nod and head towards the kitchen at the back of the roadhouse. Ellen asks if I can find everything I need. I nod again and I wave off her offer to help. She sits back down with a smile and starts up a conversation with Bobby over the merits of hunting dogs, a subject close to Bobby's heart.
I move around the kitchen collecting mugs carefully placing them onto a tray. I absently arrange the assorted cookies and homemade chocolate cake that Ellen has left on the side onto a large plate setting them onto a second tray. Ellen has also made sandwiches so I uncover the two plates setting them on the tray with the cakes. Moving towards the sink I start to fill the kettle taking care not to splash myself with a jet of water as it gushes from the tap.
I am placing the kettle on the stove as the door opens. I don't turn around because I know without looking that Dean has entered the room. I sense his presence in the same way he senses when I am happy, sad or just plain angry with him.
"I volunteered to come and help," he says as he comes up behind me wrapping his arms around my body as I turn on the gas ring under the kettle. "In case you got attacked by the cookie ghost or something," he teases pressing his warm body against me as he rests his chin on my shoulder. I slouch down to make it easier for him and he growls in my ear. I smirk knowing he hates being shorter than me.
"Dean," I can't help scolding trying to pull away. "Someone might come in."
"Don't care," he pouts tightening his hold of me. "Wanna hold you," he nuzzles my neck with his nose.
I hear myself moan as I drop my hands to cover his squeezing them affectionately. I can't help myself as I lean back slightly offering my neck to his soft licks and caresses. "Dean," I manage to squeak before the wonderful feelings he is evoking overwhelm me completely. "Some... ohhh," I groan as he swipes his tongue up the tendon of my neck to the base of my ear.
Dean gives an un-Deanlike giggle as he turns me around to face him. He smiles mischievously as he starts to dance me towards the kitchen door his eyes never leaving mine. As I open my mouth to protest he gently shoves me up against the hard wood of the door. "They can't come in now," he says a hint of defiance in his voice.
I grin at him foolishly. "Jerk," I say affectionately.
"Bitch," he retorts as he smiles back. Leaning forward his hot breath ghosts over my skin as he moves closer. "Love you," he whispers as he claims my lips in a gentle kiss.
"Love you back," I moan softly leaning into his embrace and the kiss. I can hear the kitchen clock ticking loudly as we shut out the rest of the world losing ourselves for a brief moment. Our arms wrap around each other unconsciously as we pull one another closer and our lips touch and caress in tender kisses.
The sound of the kettle's whistle echoes around the kitchen shattering the silence and we pull apart slightly breathless. "Kettle's boiled," Dean grins at me. I grin back and kiss him on the tip of his nose. He growls at me annoyed again before I pull out his embrace to busy myself with making the coffee and tea for the thirsty band of hunters in the next room.
I know instinctively that something is on his mind by the way he is worrying his lip with his teeth and bouncing from foot to foot with barely controlled energy. "Sammy," he finally says. "It is OK if we .... you know go to Nebraska?"
I turn towards him. "Just you and me?" I ask. He gives me a nod and a smile. "Then it's OK," I agree with a smile of my own. I love the others hunters like they were my own family but I love being on the road just me and Dean so much more.
"You're weird sometimes Sammy," he teases but there is warmth in the tone.
I lightly slap at his hand as he steals a cookie from the plate spoiling my orderly arrangement. He grins at me again leaning up the refrigerator lazily nibbling at the stolen cookie. I can feel him watching me as I fuss unnecessarily over the tray re-organising the cookies and cake.
"You are such a girl Sammy," he baits. "The guys in there," he nods his head towards the other room. "Hunt and kill demons and stuff for a living.... they aint gonna care if the cookies are in neat rows."
"I am bringing them ....," I screw up my face thinking of the right words for a moment. "A touch of civilisation," I finish with a smile. Dean snorts and steals another cookie. He grins at me challenging.
I leave what I am doing and move towards Dean. He wasn't expecting the move and grunts when I push him up against the refrigerator. "Tonight," I say. "We are going to a motel on our own.... no Dad... no Jim.... no-one... just you and me... and then we are going to have sex.... all night long." I kiss him hard and demanding and he moans into my mouth.
Dean pulls back from the kiss. "No Sammy," he says laughing lightly at the face I know I am pulling. "Not sex.... we are gonna make love all night long," he blushes slightly at the words. And I love him a little bit more.
"Now who's the girl?" I can't help teasing.
He blushes again before claiming my lips again in a soft loving kiss. "I don't care," he whispers in my ear. "And it's a date." I beam at him happy. Dean gives me another kiss before swiping yet another cookie while I'm distracted by his kisses.
"Dean," I scold turning back to my preparations knowing that someone will come looking for us if we don't get a move on. "You said you came to help."
"Yeah so I did," he grins again as I pull a face at him. He pushes himself off the refrigerator and picks up the tray with the cookies, cakes and sandwiches and moves towards the kitchen door. He looks over his shoulder at me. "You can be mother," he grins wickedly his pale eyes flashing with mischief.
I raise my eyes up to the ceiling in exasperation as I follow him back to the bar area carrying the tray with the mugs and tea and coffee pots. The group of hunters have left the table and are milling around the room stretching their legs and talking about everything and nothing. Guns, weapons and cars probably, I think to myself.
Dean is already handing out sandwiches, cookies and cakes. I busy myself making sure everyone has a mug of what they want. I get a barrage of gruff thank yous and some teasing for the arrangement of the cookies and cakes. Dean beams at me triumphant and smug but I can see there is a gentleness in his eyes.
I finally pour myself a mug a coffee and help myself to a large slice of chocolate cake. I stand in the corner next to Joshua who is telling me all about his latest run-in with an angry poltergeist. Half listening I cast my eyes around the room searching Dean out. I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye standing in front of the window nibbling at yet another cookie.
The light behind him frames his muscled body and I imagine for a moment that I can see his inner light shining outwards warming and caressing me. He catches me looking at him and throws a bright smile my way. I can see the promise in his eyes and can't wait to be alone in a motel room with him. I risk smiling back at him putting all the love I feel for him into my expression. It must show because he grins happily at me before turning towards Pastor Jim.
Missouri Mosely told me once that beauty is not always on the face, beauty sometimes is a light in the heart. Dean is my light. Always has been and always will be. Dean is my guiding light and I will follow wherever he leads.