❥ There is no place for love in a hunter's life, so during the day you and Dean behave like typical best friends, and at night you lose yourself in each other and forbidden desires that are not destined to come true.
❥ angst, secret feelings, friends to lovers, smut, gentle dom, Dean`s and your feelings are hurt, confessions, a little bit of romance
The silence in the motel hallway is filled with your laughter and the conversation of the brothers as the three of you go up to your rooms.
Another hunt, another cheap motel, another evening of booze and silly jokes, all the things that best friends do, right? Sam was talking enthusiastically about something, and Dean was commenting with his usual carefree smile, but if you look closely, this smile did not reach his eyes, and there was a hint of impatience in his movements. However, he doesn't show it, and continues to laugh, lightening the atmosphere and creating the illusion of an ordinary happy evening, which he himself hardly believes.
Two rooms. One for Sam, the other for you and Dean (it was a joint decision on the separated rooms after numerous comments from the staff that Dean and Sam look like a couple) and it played into your hands.
Sam went to his room almost immediately, leaving you and Dean alone, and you felt strangely relieved. Everything was going according to the script that you already knew by heart.
When the door closed behind Sam, Dean let out a chuckle and shook his head. "Well, he got tired of us pretty quickly today, huh?"
"It's all your stupid jokes." You retorted with a smile, earning a light nudge from the hunter.
"Hey, you like my jokes." Dean cockily asserts, pulling out a key and pushing you inside the room. "And you like me." His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, as if he's afraid of being heard.
The next few minutes pass like a dream. The click of a door, the rustle of jackets, and the quiet hum of an old air conditioner. Dean pins you against the wall and leans in, biting his lip.
His hand slid up, cupping your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. Endless hunts have forced you to separate for a while. For a week you were separated by kilometers, and now only a few inches, which seemed almost unreal. And Dean wouldn't have believed it if your lips hadn't met in a long-awaited tremulous kiss.
At first it was a light touch of lips, gentle, careful, until it was replaced by something more intense, persistent and hungry. His hands went down, found your hips and squeezed, so tightly that it would probably bruise.
"Dean…" You were almost breathless, and your heart was fluttering when the hunter caught your lips over and over again, not giving you time to take a breath.
"It`s okay, angel…" A quiet, affectionate nickname that Dean kept for the moments when you were alone with him.
His hands traced your body, as if desperate to know you, to imprint a map of you into his memory. It wasn't the heat of lust, it was something much deeper, much more intimate. Devotion. Affection. Codependency. And the very feeling that none of you wanted to admit.
"Missed you so fucking much" - the words were barely even formed as he breathed it, burying his face in your hair, breathing your perfect scent, holding you as hard as he could. Dean is impatient and it seems to you that he is ready to start taking off his clothes right here, and you did not blame him, and shared this desire with him. The next thing you know, Dean is lifting you up and lowering you onto the bed.
His slender fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, gliding up your chest with a slightly rough touch and a hint of anticipation. The hunter's lips left a trail of hot kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, tracing the smooth, sensitive skin. He sucked your pulse point and his teeth lightly grazed the flesh.
His fingertips ghosted along your sides, leaving goosebumps as he gently guided the straps of your bra off your shoulders and tugged it off you. He took a step back to get a better look at you. It was really a perfect picture. You, in the half dark motel room, against the white sheets, flushed and disheveled, looking at him like he was the most important person in the world.
Dean swallowed hard. He lowered himself, pressing against your chest and starting to cover every inch of your body with kisses, one of his hands squeezed your breast, causing you to stifle a sigh as his tongue slid around the hardened nipple.
The sheets rustled as you froze, digging your fingers into the hunter's tousled hair and pulling back the short strands and he closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to get lost in your touch.
Even lower, leaving wet trails along your chest and down to your stomach, he held you tightly by the waist. He was desperate to hold you, for the time to freeze, even for a moment, and for the two of you to escape together.
But deep down he knew there was no way out of this vicious circle, and it was killing him.
Dean`s body pressed against yours, causing the temperature to spike between you. He could feel your breath against his lips, your skin against his, the faint scent of shampoo intertwined with the scent of his old leather jacket. Everything faded away, except for these simple sensations.
"Sweetheart... You're so pretty like that" The hunter muttered with a slight smirk against your skin, marking you, covering you in little red and violet bruises. It was a way to lay claim on you, to remind you of him whenever you looked in a mirror. Even if he couldn't offer you forever, he could give you something that lasts at least few days.
"Don't tease." You whispered both annoyingly and pleadingly.Your body responded to every touch, each brush of his fingers sent shivers down your spine. The room was filled with uneven breathing and muffled groans as you surrendered yourself to this sweet and painful pleasure.
You were both drowning in an ocean of desire and need, completely losing control over your actions. All that mattered at this moment was the closeness and intimacy of your bodies.
His name on your lips was both a prayer and a curse. An intimate moan and a silent scream for salvation in your voice, but all he could do was give you more, drowning your lips in a passionate kiss, silencing your soft pleas to drown in an all-consuming heat.
It wasn't fair, Dean thought, as his hands caressed your hip bones, teasing the fabric of your underwear. This life, this world, and the way you affected him.
You and Dean were so much alike. Two lost souls, two people broken by life, finding peace in each other arms.
There has always been something between you, and from the very first meeting, this feeling has been increasingly entrenched in Dean's corrupted mind and crippled heart.
You and Dean could be anyone partners, good friends, but not lovers. History hates lovers. And no matter how strong your feelings for each other were, there was no way you could have a happy ending, life would have found a way to mock you and break you, leaving you to pick up the pieces. It was ironic, cruel, but it was a reality in which you were forced to exist.
But you still couldn't come to terms with it. After all, if fate has missed something in your life scenario, you will fill in the blanks yourself.
No one knew about it. You two behaved as usual, but as soon as you stayed behind closed doors, all boundaries were erased. And this shitty day feels less shitty when Dean is pinning you to the bed, stroking the inside of your thigh.
His own heart is pounding like his ribs are about to crack. God, it's all so wrong, but he can't stop. It seems to him that he is drowning in an ocean of ecstasy and desire, and he has no hope of surfacing for a breath of air. The temperature between you is dangerously hot, and only the cold of the sheets and the gray of the shabby walls of a cheap motel almost hurt and remind you of reality.
But at this point, nothing matters, you just want to get lost in each other's gentle touches and quiet reassurances. The bitter taste of love, regret and hopelessness remains on the lips after a few kisses stolen in this painfully serene moment. You only have a few hours before the first rays of the sun destroy this idyll.
One life for two, one breath for two. You two were doomed. Your relationship was so deep and hopeless at the same time, but you both seemed ready to willingly go down.
Your legs wrapped around Dean's waist as his fingers slowly moved inside you, giving you a chance to get used to the pace and size. You were as tight as during your first time, and you looked at him with the same boundless trust and affection.
He gently pulled his fingers out, breathing heavily and looking at you, "I'm sorry... I'm just sorry, sweetheart" he murmured, gently stroking your thigh, caressing the delicate skin with his fingers.
He hated himself for not having much to offer you. A crappy life in motels and backseats of cars, a life full of blood, violence and tragedy - it was not what you deserved. You deserved a normal life, something better, someone better.
The hunter placed a kiss on your temple, breathing in your scent, trying to imprint this moment in his mind, to remember the way you feel to him, the way your body fits against his like two puzzle pieces. These little quiet moments, free of all the hardships and demons, were so damn rare, yet so precious. Just you, him and the silent understanding of how doomed they were.
"You're so beautiful. Like a damn angel" he chuckled sadly, running his thumb over your lower lip. "And smart, and witty and caring and so, so damn sweet. You deserve so much better than this... but instead you're stuck with me and my sorry ass, being dragged around all these damn dives and motels."
He stops only to pull off his shirt and reach for the belt of his jeans. He let out a rough exhale, lowering his eyes. It hurt too much to look into yours right now.
"And I wouldn't change it for anything." You whispered back, squeezing his bare shoulders and lifting your hips in search of more contact.
His heart squeezed again. It always did when he heard you say that. These little words that held so much weight, so much meaning and emotion. The words he thought he didn't deserve to hear, and yet here you were, saying to to him. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, holding you as close as humanly possible, trying to hide the ache in his chest. Just for a brief moment, he could forget about his worries and fears, about the fact that the world was collapsing around them.
"And nothing in this world will make me stop loving you." You added softly, hugging him.
Dean laughed softly, but there was a hint of melancholy in his smile. He took a sharp inhale, seeing your sincere eyes. Your faith in him, it was both beautiful and so damn scary. The hunter felt like a fraud, like a little boy pretending to be a hero, like he didn't deserve to be on a receiving end of your trust and love. But it also felt so damn good to hear it.
"You're perfect, and I'm... me." the hunter exhaled, looking at you again. He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he spoke again. He settled between your legs, starting to move, slowly and carefully, to the sound of your muffled moans. "But I'm cursed to lose the people I love, there's no way out. I'm damaged and nothing but ruin is left where I go. I`m broken."
"Not only you." Your voice trailed off as you leaned back, trying to match his pace and be quiet.
Dean was about to object, but he knew it was useless. You were too persistent for your own good. Just like him. A broken duo. Too stubborn for a happy ending.
"You scare me, you know that? You're too damn good for my screwed up mind" The hunter gently cupped your face, running his thumb over your cheek, before leaning in and pressing his forehead to yours. He could hear the steady beat of your heart, could feel your soft skin under his fingertips.
Dean was silent for a moment, looking at you as if trying to find the reason for fate's cruelty, the hidden sense behind it. He moved up, his body completely covering yours, his weight comforting and familiar, as if he was the missing piece that fit perfectly into a puzzle.
He caught your lips, entering your mouth in an insistent, almost greedy kiss, and his fingers squeezed your waist, as he pushed deeper and deeper, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips. "I love you. I love you so damn much."
His voice hoarse with emotion. He could feel your nails scratching his back, and he's almost proud that he's making you squirm and make those cute noises. The thrusts became more chaotic and insistent, the desire poured into your waiting core became irresistible, but Dean wanted to hold out this moment longer.
The world around them faded into oblivion as he held you tighter, his fingers tracing invisible lines on your back. His lips found your neck again, and he let himself just exist in this moment, with you.
The night continued, the motel room enveloped in silent peace. Through the windows, the light of the streetlamp crept inside through the blinds, casting soft shadows on your face.
You're lying on the bed, staring at the wall. Your clothes are scattered God knows where, mixed with Dean's clothes, but you don't care. Your gaze is riveted to the window, where the darkness of the night is replaced by light through tightly closed curtains.
Time seemed to flow inexorably fast, as if fate itself was trying to cut off your only thread on the path to happiness. But deep down you know that these are all fairy tales. Happiness for a hunter is to stay alive and kill another supernatural creature, and all thoughts, aspirations and dreams of a normal life remained in the distant past when you first picked up a blade. You exhale, not realizing that you've been holding your breath, and that quiet, almost imperceptible sigh has caught Dean's attention.
"Don't." The hunter whispered hoarsely, burying himself more deeply in your neck. There is no previous barb and audacity in his voice, there is an undisguised vulnerability and affection that appeared only with you. His bare chest pressed against your back, creating a feeling of comfort and security.
You flinched slightly when Dean's voice cut through the silence. You usually didn't talk until the early hours of the morning, so as not to add salt to the wounds, but sometimes that silence only made it worse, and Dean understood that too.
"Don't think about it." The hunter continued quietly and hugged you tighter around the waist. Well, it seemed like the only sensible solution. Don't think, just feel and absorb every bit of it. Dean exhaled, burrowing into your hair and inhaling the scent of your arousal, perfume and sweetness, a scent that belonged only to you.
His touch made your heart flutter and wish that this moment would last as long as possible. His hand lazily slid over your stomach and chest, and you could feel the contrast of your hot body and his metal ring. "I just don't understand why this is happening to us. Sometimes I can't stop thinking that our fate has a twisted sense of humor."
The hunter grinned wryly was silent for a moment, his heart pounding and stomach tying in knots for what he was about to say. A slightly ironic sad smile appeared on his lips. "Because life hates us, angel." He answered with a trace of bitterness in his voice, gently squeezing your wrists, and added "Or maybe we're too beautiful for a good life."
The hunter's attempt at a joke seemed completely awkward and uncertain. It's doomed from the start. You swallowed hard and exhaled, feeling your heart tighten painfully. "When will it all end?"
Your question hangs in the air and remains unanswered, even though deep down you knew the answer. Never. The hunting life scenario does not include a happy family life and those feelings that you hoped to hide deep inside.
You buried your face in the pillow, as if trying to hide from all your problems, from the sun, from the whole world, and Dean gently hugged your waist, kissing the top of your head. The hopelessness of the situation weighed heavily on him, and the way you were trembling in his arms, like you were holding back tears, didn't help.
The hunter sighed, trying to stay calm, but when he looked at you, something deep inside him broke, like a crack in glass that never truly healed.
He tightened his embrace, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he could, as if he was afraid that you would suddenly disappear from him. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate only on your presence. Your hands in his hair, your body pressed against his, your heartbeat, your breathing. It seemed that this is something the world doesn't want him to have, but he will take it at all costs, even if it doesn't belong to him.
"Look at me." Dean suddenly speaks, and there are notes of desperate determination in his voice. "I don't care what life throws at me next time, but I won't let anything or anyone take you away from me. Get it?"
Your heart skips a beat from the sincerity in his words and a single tear rolls down your cheek. You didn't want to give up and break down in front of him, but it was all too overwhelming, and you felt him gently turn you around, stroking your shoulders.
Dean knows he has to let you go now. But he doesn't want to. He's not ready to end this. You're not ready. So you let yourselves pretend that everything is okay, that you can still keep this secret. As usual.
And for now, it's enough. Maybe tomorrow will be okay. And maybe the day after tomorrow. But one day it will end, and it will hurt, and it will break you both. But you can't think about that right now, because you're with each other, and everything is perfect.
The feeling is intense, almost unbearable, you have no desire to leave your cocoon of pleasure. Dean's fingers play with your hair, while you're crying on his chest, he starts kissing you again, and it's like a feverish dream, a wonderful nightmare, a dream that might not come true again.
It's not the last morning you two spend together, it's not the last hunt, it's not the "happily ever after". But for now, it's okay. For now, it's enough.
