( when dean sees bev outside the bunker from the window of the impala, his first instinct is mild panic. if she was coming to visit, wouldn't she have texted? what the hell happened that she drove all the way out here without saying anything? he assumes something must be wrong, that it must be something bad — and it is, sort of. but not as bad as dean was imagined it to be. the only monster in this story is bev's shitty ex-husband, and after an even nastier divorce, dean's more than willing to let her camp out in the bunker for a while. as long as she needs. it'll be nice to have her around, to not have to drive two hundred miles just to see her. and this way sam can't complain about dean going out of their way for a girl. the way dean sees it, this will finally give sam and bev ample opportunity to bond or whatever.
of course, he can't promise they'll be at the bunker with her the whole time — cases crop up and sometimes they have to go, but he does at least make an effort to contact hunters who might be in the area to take the job if the case is more than a couple states over so they won't have to bail and leave her alone for the few days they'd be gone (sometimes sam takes a case on his own when he needs to get out, or when he feels like he needs to give them their privacy, as if they aren't all adults who can keep it in their pants long enough to make it to the bedroom). he's sure she'd be fine on her own, but he'd feel more comfortable staying at the bunker with her when he can, showing her around what little lebanon has to offer. he even takes her into lawrence one afternoon, gives her the grand tour of his hometown, drives her past his old house, tells her stories about his brief childhood there, treats her to dinner and a movie. if he thought about it long enough, he might even consider it a date.
it's already late when he and sam get back from taking care of a haunting out in, ironically, winchester, about a three hour drive from lebanon, and all he really wants to do is hit the shower, scrub the dirt and ectoplasm out of his hair, rinse off the sweat of gravedigging. he checks in with bev before he goes, just to let her know they're back and if he doesn't see her before he's out to have a good night.
he doesn't expect to find her in his room when he gets back. or, well — maybe part of him had hoped that he would. still, she catches him a little off guard, still scrubbing the towel at his damp hair. he lets it drop when she smiles, feels the corners of his mouth twitching upward at the sight of her. )
Hey. ( honestly, it's always a nice surprise to see a woman waiting for him. his mouth curves all the way into a self-satisfied smile, and he's on his way to saying something sarcastically charming, but she's already on her way to him, closing the distance, pushing him against the door, her mouth against his before he the words have time to form. he doesn't mind, of course, smiles against her lips as he leans into her, his hands sliding over her hips to grab at her ass, two seconds away from hauling her up against him and depositing her on his bed. he's still thinking about it when she pulls away, her breath warm between them. i missed you.
god. he's missed her too. it hasn't even been that long. still. ) I could say the same. ( he kisses her again, softer, almost sweetly, betraying the hunger coiling in his belly, though neither is less true because of it. it's only been a few months since they started this ... whatever it is — dean hesitates to call it a relationship because he's never been very good at those, and, frankly, being in a relationship only makes things more complicated — but he can't deny he feels something for bev, something beyond basic attraction, something that keeps him coming back and not just for the sex. she understands him in a way no woman ever has, which, in his line of work, is pretty damn rare for someone not in the business of hunting monsters. trauma does that to people.
it makes him think about cassie every now and then — the first woman he was ever in love with, the first person he told about being a hunter — and then he remembers how that ended, with a promise he could never make good on. (sometimes, he still thinks about going to see her again, but it's been too long and they've both moved on. it's for the better not to dig up old graves.) he tries not to think about lisa — a year away from the life, a year without sam, a year of playing house and pretending to be someone he's not, living a life that was never supposed to be his — and how badly that ended, because it was the only way to keep her and ben safe. it's the last thing he ever wants to happen again.
but bev has been through it, and not because the winchesters brought the monsters to her doorstep. she may not be a hunter, but she knows what's out there now and she's kicked its ass. would he go all in if she asked him to? probably. there's a possibility they could make this work, but dean's been around the block enough times to know there's a better chance he'd fuck it up if it got more serious than it is now. and right now he just wants to enjoy this. enjoy her.
his voice drops, sultry, almost a whisper. ) You know, you didn't have to wait for me. I would've liked the company. ( which sounds as much like an invitation for next time as any. his mouth wanders toward her ear, a kiss pressed along her neck just below the lobe. ) Ain't exactly what I imagined you seducing me in, but I ain't complaining.
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of course, he can't promise they'll be at the bunker with her the whole time — cases crop up and sometimes they have to go, but he does at least make an effort to contact hunters who might be in the area to take the job if the case is more than a couple states over so they won't have to bail and leave her alone for the few days they'd be gone (sometimes sam takes a case on his own when he needs to get out, or when he feels like he needs to give them their privacy, as if they aren't all adults who can keep it in their pants long enough to make it to the bedroom). he's sure she'd be fine on her own, but he'd feel more comfortable staying at the bunker with her when he can, showing her around what little lebanon has to offer. he even takes her into lawrence one afternoon, gives her the grand tour of his hometown, drives her past his old house, tells her stories about his brief childhood there, treats her to dinner and a movie. if he thought about it long enough, he might even consider it a date.
it's already late when he and sam get back from taking care of a haunting out in, ironically, winchester, about a three hour drive from lebanon, and all he really wants to do is hit the shower, scrub the dirt and ectoplasm out of his hair, rinse off the sweat of gravedigging. he checks in with bev before he goes, just to let her know they're back and if he doesn't see her before he's out to have a good night.
he doesn't expect to find her in his room when he gets back. or, well — maybe part of him had hoped that he would. still, she catches him a little off guard, still scrubbing the towel at his damp hair. he lets it drop when she smiles, feels the corners of his mouth twitching upward at the sight of her. )
Hey. ( honestly, it's always a nice surprise to see a woman waiting for him. his mouth curves all the way into a self-satisfied smile, and he's on his way to saying something sarcastically charming, but she's already on her way to him, closing the distance, pushing him against the door, her mouth against his before he the words have time to form. he doesn't mind, of course, smiles against her lips as he leans into her, his hands sliding over her hips to grab at her ass, two seconds away from hauling her up against him and depositing her on his bed. he's still thinking about it when she pulls away, her breath warm between them. i missed you.
god. he's missed her too. it hasn't even been that long. still. ) I could say the same. ( he kisses her again, softer, almost sweetly, betraying the hunger coiling in his belly, though neither is less true because of it. it's only been a few months since they started this ... whatever it is — dean hesitates to call it a relationship because he's never been very good at those, and, frankly, being in a relationship only makes things more complicated — but he can't deny he feels something for bev, something beyond basic attraction, something that keeps him coming back and not just for the sex. she understands him in a way no woman ever has, which, in his line of work, is pretty damn rare for someone not in the business of hunting monsters. trauma does that to people.
it makes him think about cassie every now and then — the first woman he was ever in love with, the first person he told about being a hunter — and then he remembers how that ended, with a promise he could never make good on. (sometimes, he still thinks about going to see her again, but it's been too long and they've both moved on. it's for the better not to dig up old graves.) he tries not to think about lisa — a year away from the life, a year without sam, a year of playing house and pretending to be someone he's not, living a life that was never supposed to be his — and how badly that ended, because it was the only way to keep her and ben safe. it's the last thing he ever wants to happen again.
but bev has been through it, and not because the winchesters brought the monsters to her doorstep. she may not be a hunter, but she knows what's out there now and she's kicked its ass. would he go all in if she asked him to? probably. there's a possibility they could make this work, but dean's been around the block enough times to know there's a better chance he'd fuck it up if it got more serious than it is now. and right now he just wants to enjoy this. enjoy her.
his voice drops, sultry, almost a whisper. ) You know, you didn't have to wait for me. I would've liked the company. ( which sounds as much like an invitation for next time as any. his mouth wanders toward her ear, a kiss pressed along her neck just below the lobe. ) Ain't exactly what I imagined you seducing me in, but I ain't complaining.