Hire a Boyfriend (Dean Winchester)

The Second First Date

Accepting my feelings for Dean proves to be easier than doing something about them. I know how I feel, and yet it takes me more than I anticipated to seek him out. During that time, I try to distract myself from love affairs, focusing on my work and hobbies. Dean does so as promised and gives me my space. It's just a few weeks, but that's enough to understand the full depth of my emotions. Once or twice, I look up his profile on HiBoy and the result is always the same. He has deleted all of his information from the app. It's not surprising since he already told me he would do so, but it also makes me think that it was right on time for his confession. I think he knows I wouldn't have dated him if he had stayed working for the app. Not because I would've been jealous, more so that we're old enough to know that if we start something now it's bound to become serious or end quickly.

On the other hand, being separated from him has also made me realize that I don't want to anymore. In a short amount of time, he has become one of my best friends and the person who makes my heart beat faster than no one else. That's precisely the reason that, one day, I decide to cancel my subscription too. My phone showcases my HiBoy settings, my finger hovers over the delete button. I know this is merely an app, and it doesn't define my relationship with Dean. Nevertheless, the symbolic resignation from the platform marks -at least in my head- the end of my fake relationship and the beginning of the real one. As soon as I uninstall the app, my fingers immediately seek out Dean's phone number. It only rings for a few seconds before his gruff voice greets me.

"Hey sweetheart, ready to be with me?" Cocky as ever.

I try not to roll my eyes, "don't make me regret this."

His response is charming yet serious, "never."

He suggests something fancy for our first real date. He mentions an elegant restaurant by the outskirts of town, and I agree. Since it's a bit far from where we live, he insists on driving me to and from it. I enjoy our time in the Impala, that's why I don't object.

When the day of the date finally comes, I'm more nervous than I anticipated. My palms are sweaty and I feel light-headed. More than anything, I'm excited like never before. This isn't a one-night stand, and this isn't a man that I have to take home after. This is Dean, and I want everything to work out well. I put on a long green dress that reminds me of Dean's eyes. I'm just finishing my makeup and hair when I hear the doorbell ring.

Exactly like the day when went to dinner with his parents, he brings me flowers. This time, it's roses, red and yellow. They're beautiful, and I stop to ponder the meaning of the colors. I know them, yellow means friendship, and red means love or passion. I smell them and put them in a vase.

In spite of our warm greeting, there's tension in the car ride. Neither of us says anything. That only makes me more nervous. As we finally arrive at the restaurant, I hope for things to follow its natural course, like it used to. Sadly, when the waiter takes our orders, the silence still surrounds our table. That only makes me question if we're doing the right thing. What if we were better off as friends?

"So," he starts talking, "what have you been up to?" I retell my past few weeks for him. Sadly, they're boring because I haven't done anything amusing. The air remains tense. He decides to tell me about his promotion. "I had to hire a new mechanic to take most of my work load. Kid's young and doesn't know much," he complains, "his name's Jack." Then he proceeds to relate a problem that he had with him in the shop. I really try to follow his story, but he uses some specialized terms that I don't understand. The silence is deafening when he finishes.

When the waiter returns to our table, he brings the most pretentious dishes I've seen in my life. They're tiny and I bet expensive as fuck. I pick up my fork skeptically and try mine. It's not that great. I look over at Dean, only to find him already staring back at me, expectant. I open my mouth to speak: "What the fuck are we doing here?"

Relief overtakes his expression. "I thought you'd never ask," he laughs out loud. Shortly after, we leave our barely eaten dishes and some cash to cover them. We both laugh at the ridiculous idea of going there. Neither of us truly enjoy that sort of setting, and not because now we're actually dating it means we have to change who we are. "My brother suggested somewhere better than our previous dates," he explains. I'm touched that he asked Sam for advice, but we agree to keep it simple from now on. At least most of the time.

Since we're still hungry, we go to that burger joint where we ate on our second date. The one where he took me after my cousin's wedding. The discomfort of the fancy place and the expectations of the date seemed to be the problem because after that we start chatting like we used to. That's how I realize that it's not that we're bad as a couple, it's that we have to combine our friendship and our desire. There's no reason to change the way we treat each other, we just have to integrate the romance part. By the time that we finish our burgers, I've no doubt in my mind that I'll love this man.

While he drives the Impala back home, he asks me how it was. "They do have the best burgers in Kansas" I repeat his words. The smile he gives me makes my heart flutter.

Our mood's change is noticeable. During our way back, we almost talk nonstop, and even the silence is precious and comfy. When we arrive home, I don't want a night to be over. It seems that neither does he because Dean accompanies me to the door.

"I had a great time," I murmur, like if I raise my voice I'll break the atmosphere.

Dean nods and takes a step forward, "awesome, me too." He cracks a grin, "best date ever, and believe me, I've had plenty." I know he's referring to his work on HiBoy, so I chuckle quietly.

My laugh, however, stops abruptly when I see him leaning towards me. I know what's going to happen. My heart pounds in expectancy and my palms are slightly sweaty. Nevertheless, that doesn't stop me from placing them into his broad chest. His hands snake around my waist expertly to bring me closer. I've been waiting for this since the first time I laid eyes on him. Dean's face is a few inches away. My breath catches in my throat. I want to kiss him. As soon as that thought comes to my mind, his lips crash with mine. We take no time to move them into a steady rhythm. At first, it's agonizingly slow, but then, like fire poured in our veins, our tongues find each other. It's exactly what I imagined it to be, and yet is more than that due to the feelings involved. If I had met him at a random bar, I would've taken him to bed and be done with him by the next day. He probably would've, too. Thus, encountering him through a fake dating app was probably for the best. I have to thank Frida later.

"Would you like to come in?" I invite him when we part.

Dean chuckles nervously, "we can take our time, you know?" His eyes roam from my eyes back to my lips, and I know he's being a gentleman for my sake.

My hand travels from his chest to his neck and jaw. I caress the light stubble there. "I know, but we don't have to."

He sucks in a breath, "then, we don't have to." That night, I sleep with Dean Winchester in my arms.