A/N: Sorry it took so long, sis! I hope you like it, @comeonerleen
Fic inspired by “Close” by Nick Jonas and Tove Lo
“I promise,” You speak though flustered, torn between wanting to start your weekend with your boyfriend and completing work for the week, “It is a signature on a piece of paper.”
Dean says nothing, clearly uncomfortable in his jeans and t-shirt; he resituates his black beanie, “You sure you don’t want me to just wait in the car?”
“Are you kidding me?” You come around to his side of the car, sliding your hand into his and giving his lips a quick peck, “It’d be nice for my co-workers to know that I’m not making up a boyfriend, you know?”
Swinging your hand a little, he nods and allow you to lead him inside the tall business office; you wonder if you should take his hoodie and cover your v-neck wine colored dress a little more. The whole outfit was obviously for a night out with him, but you were not sure you wanted your co-workers to see you so out of business demeanor.
When the elevator doors close, Dean playfully pulls you back against him and hugs you tight. It eases some of the tension in your body as you mold yourself against him.
The secretary lights up, standing to her feet and extending the paperwork across the counter, “Ms. (Y/L/N)! I’m so sorry we had to call you back in.”
“It’s okay.” Your heels click in the direction of the paperwork, and your slightly shaky hand reaches for the pen to scan the casework, “Were the parents contacted about visitation hours?”
Dean stands casually to the side of the rounded counter, scanning your larger office and mumbling, “Not what I expected.”
“Well, you haven’t seen my office, babe.” You wink, beginning to scrawl your name across some finalized statements.
“Wow, (Y/N)…” You hear a soft breath and turn to see one of your co-workers holding a hand playfully to his chest, “Did we interrupt some plans you had tonight?”
“Nope.” You shut the folder, handing everything back to the secretary, “I was just heading out.”
He eyes you from head to toe, thinking aloud, “Someone is very lucky to be waiting for you.”
“Not waiting, right here.” Dean laces his fingers with yours, suddenly taller and darker in demeanor, “Everything good to go, darlin’?”
“Uh—yeah.” You feel a little small, giving your man a somewhat uncertain smile and tucking yourself against his side, “Goodnight, everyone.”
Dean’s hand seems to clutch yours a little tightly as you wait for the elevator; nervous, you tilt your head a little to seek his aqua eyes and squeeze his bicep. Your stomach turns a little when he doesn’t look at you, just continues to busy his free fingers with the cloth of his beanie. Alone again on the elevator, you wait expectantly for him to share his thoughts.
Moaning against his mouth, your arms immediately slither around his neck as he presses you back against the mirrored wall. When his teeth lightly pinch your lower lip upon pulling away, your fingertips tangle the ends of his waves and curls.
Dean lightly knocks his forehead against yours, sighing, “Your co-workers always look at you like that?”
“No,” You shrink a little, dropping your arms and shaking your head, “I just—look different because I wanted to have all your attention tonight.”
“Oh, you got my attention.” Dean wanders a hand along the curve of your hips and to your behind, giving a gentle squeeze, “I just want to make sure that’s the only attention you want.”
Dean towers over you, causing your thighs to clench and breath to quiver, “It took everything in me not to invite him outside and kick his ass.”
“Who cares? It’s not like anyone has a shot. I can’t see anything past you.” You blurt the words out; you hate being honest, so far ahead of your censor that it had no time to edit.
As a thank you, Dean’s mouth feels like its going to devour you whole; you melt with a low moan, pouting when his kiss is gone and the elevator doors have opened.
Flustered, you playfully smack your lips then tuck them in as a blush colors your features; you allow him to tug at you, “…can’t really feel my knees at the moment.”
“Oh, got it.” Dean tosses you over his shoulder, savoring your laughter that bubbles out at his action, and smacks your ass while heading to your parked car, “Give me keys.”
You do as instructed as he reaches his free hand back, settling the keys into his palm and going dead weight as he carries you to your ride. Once you hear the doors unlock, you attempt to slide down, only he holds you tighter in place, “Put me down!”
“I will…” Dean continues his journey, squeezing your behind until you giggle, “in the backseat.”