Oh, What A Bad Idea (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

Twenty-Two

Since the hot moment in the hotel a week ago, Sam has really taken a step back. Now all he wants to do is take things slowly. I tried talking to him about it, but he's convinced he's "doing what's right for both of us". For himself, I think. But I can respect his judgement and I won't rush him into anything he doesn't want just yet.

Both him and Dean keep poking fun at me because of the stuffed animal wish in Washington. Dean is threatening to buy me a few dozen more. I told him I'd burn them, but I probably would burn all of them.

Work has been sparing lately. Nothing really worth our time, aside from a few vamp dens, has come up. I talked to the guys about camping, but Dean refused completely, and Sam said they were too busy with Lilith right now, so I had to wait. This Lilith ho was really starting to bother me. It took up all of Sam's free time and consumed his mind. He'd stay up late and work early, leaving little to no room for dates or anything of the sort. I know I said I wanted a long leash, but I didn't mean for him to completely space me. We talked about it some, but he just said he needed to get this over with, and he'd be free for whatever I wanted to do.

So while he was busy, me and Dean hung out quite a bit, and in fact, we out on our weekly drinking night at the moment. Dean had just got us our first round of beer. "So," he started, "how's the whole Sam thing goin?"

Starting early tonight, huh? "Not bad. He's just caught up with Lilith. Not the first work-oholic I've been with." I took a swig of my bottle.

"I see you've got a type." He joked.

"Yeah, I must. How's things with you? You been keeping okay?" He told us in the car a few days ago that he remembered Hell, so I've sort of been keeping tabs on him.

"Yeah, I'm alright." He brushed it off and looked away.

"Dean, I won't give you my pity if you don't want it. Just say the word." Another drink; the cool irony taste running over my tongue.

"Okay," he looked me in the eye with a displaced/slightly ticked look, "I don't want it."

"See, was that so hard." I said nonchalantly and looked away to the pool table.

We chatted lightly, buying more and more beer, until see started buying shots and played a game of speed. Dean of course won and got me way more drunk than I should have been. He was quite tipsy too, but he was more practiced.

"So, Kaylee Dimitri, how long's it been?" He slurred.

"Sincce wat?" I had a hard time talking, but I was still smiling like an idiot. Such a happy drunk.

"Since you bumped uglies." He said, his elbow slipped on the bar and he fell a little closer, not bothering to back up again.

"Well," I laughed, "A long time. I don't remember."

"Why not!?" He raised his voice.

"Dean, I don't know. No one has caught my eye." In saying that, I took a second to look over Dean, my drunk brain cutting out all his flaws. Strong jaw, long legs, muscular, scarless.

"What was that?" He asked.

"What?" I looked back up at his eyes. Green eyes.

"You just checked me out." He laughed, stepping closer.

"So what? I do that all the time." I confessed, forgetting who I was talking to. "Oops, you're not supposed to know that." I laughed, not really caring.

He laughed a throaty, deep laugh. That was pretty hot. "Thanks for tellin me, then, I guess." He lowered his head and gave me a sloppy, drunken, bad tasting, kiss, which I returned, not really thinking about it. It was in no way a good kiss, but it was something and I took it. He lifted his head to look at me, I looked back at him, wondering what he could be thinking. He bent down again and kissed me again, this time with a little more precision, and before I knew what was going on, we were making out and headed outside.

He pushed me against a wall, our lips entwined in a mess off bad breath and slobber. The music from the bar a little quieter out here, so I could here his grunts of hunger. That's a turn on too. He started to grind on me and I threw a leg on his hip, straddling him and pulling him closer. The heat in my lower region building up, and a bulge growing his his jeans. I laced my hands up to touch his shoulders through the leather, deciding that wasn't enough, put my hands under his shirt and feeling his familiar body heat that was, truthfully, more comfortable than Sam's. He pealed me unwillingly from my very lovely place on the wall and pushed me into the backseat of the impala, a devilish look on his face the entire time.

Oh, what a bad idea it was. Usually when I drink, I do with moderation. Not last night apparently. Without opening my eyes, I rubbed at head, trying fruitlessly to dulled the pounding. Damn it, Dean. You should have been watching me. Where were you when I was getting hammered? Oh, right. On the other end of the table, challenging me. And for what? I won nothing. I flipped on my stomach and tried hiding my face in the pillows, realizing soon after that there were no pillows and I was laying on the bed horizontally and fully dressed aside from my shoes, jacket, over shirt, and belt. I tried moving my hair in the way of the sun, but it was all for not.

The door opened and closed, loudly might I add. I jolted my shoulders in response, "Sam, can you get me some water?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"It's Dean, and yeah sure." He corrected.

"Dean? What am doing here?" I finally sat up, facing the sun up front and hating it.

"What do ya mean? Here." He handing me a bottle of water, it was cold.

"Why am I in your room." I unscrewed the cap and drank it gratefully.

"You don't remember?"

"No. Please enlighten me."

"Wow. Didn't realize you were that wasted." There was no hint of any kind of joke in his voice. He sounded concerned and his face reflected it.

"Yes, I was. On with the story, please." I waved my hand in a circular motion.

"Ah, well." He pulled up a chair in front of me, "Do you want what I told Sam, or what really happened?"

What? Are they different? Why are they different? "Both, I guess." Worry washed over me. What if...

He folded his hands in his lap and looked at me awkwardly, "I told Sam that you were drunk and couldn't climb the stairs, so you crashed here."

I nodded, "But..."

"But..." He repeated, "We got drunk and had sex." He said it quickly, so as to try to evade me. But I caught it.

"Ugh... Jesus..." I face palmed and sat with my shame for a second. "Dean..."

"Look, Kay, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened." He tried to make up for it.

Oh, you. Always putting the blame on yourself. "It's not your fault as much as it's mine. I shouldn't have drank that much." I finished the rest of my water and threw it aimlessly at the trash. "Did we use a condom?" I asked seriously, still rubbing the shame on my face.

"Yes." He said.

"Good. Well, there's something." I looked up into Dean's eyes. Green eyes. He was full of hurt. He probably thinks I'll hate him or something. "Don't do that. I don't hate you." He looked away. "Sam believed you?"

"Pretty sure." He nodded, looking down.

"Dean," I stood up and pulled him off the chair with me. I wrapped my arms around him, "Don't beat yourself up. If you look guilty, Sam will find out." I slapped his back, "Look alive, Boy Scout."