Mask- a Supernatural fanfiction

Chapter 27: Black T-Shirt

After I finished brushing my teeth and drying myself off, I started to put the clothes I had gotten from my bag on. I put on my panties, but then realized I did not bring the right shirt. I wouldn't be able to sleep in this. Dammit. Honestly, how could I have managed that? I had one job.

I unlocked the door and slowly peeked my head around it.

"Dean?" I called for him as I hoped he was still awake.

"Yes, Cat?" Oh, thank God.

"Can you get me a shirt from my bag? Preferably a big one?"

I heard him get up from the bed and make his way to the bathroom door. I instinctively closed the door more so he wouldn't see my naked body. When he came around the corner, he wasn't wearing his jeans or a shirt: only boxers. My eyes widened. There's never a time when his body doesn't leave me speechless.

"You forgot to bring a shirt with you?" he teased.

I let out a breath. I was stupid. "No, I just brought the wrong one."

He smiled big and I couldn't help but blush.

I saw a thought come across his mind as he turned around and said, "Here"

He disappeared around the corner and I hoped he would come back with a shirt. When he came back, he did have a shirt, but it wasn't mine. I realized when he held it out for me that it was the black t-shirt he had worn today.

I eyed it for a minute, contemplating whether or not to take it. I mean, it was dirty and I just got a shower. But then again, I'm honored he would offer it. So I took it and shut the door, ignoring the smug grin on his face.

When I slipped it over my head, his smell filled my nostrils. The smell of leather, cologne, sweat, and mint made me instantly calm and I was glad I took it. The black shirt hung over my shoulders and hung until halfway on my thighs. It was big on me, but I was unbelievably comfortable in it. I stared at myself in the foggy mirror, my hair damp and my face bare from any makeup. I adored how his shirt looked on me, despite being a simple piece of clothing.

When I finally decided to exit the bathroom, Dean wasn't waiting outside of it. I kind of hoped he would, so maybe I would see how he would react. But I guess I would have to wait until I made my way to the bed. I held my dirty clothes in my arms–along with the wrong shirt– as I padded over to my duffle bag to put my clothes in it. I pretended like Dean wasn't there as I made my way to the corner of the room where my duffle bag was, but I could feel his eyes on me. After dropping my pile of clothes on it, I forced myself to turn around to see Dean.

He was watching me with wide eyes as he looked at me up and down. My heart started to beat hard as I watched him take me in in his shirt. I forced the small amount of confidence to push its way forward. I spread my arms out, and twirled in a circle, acting like I was in a dress.

When I stopped, I had a smile on my face. I looked at Dean again, this time he had one on his face too. I was glad that I made the confidence come forward, because now I was feeling proud and confident.

"I look better in this than you do," I teased as I examined the shirt in my fingers and padded over to him. He never took his eyes off of me, but the smile remained. Before I reached the bed, Dean spoke.

"You need to bring the wrong shirt more often." He definitely was checking me out. I felt proud about it.

I let out a scoff. Maybe I should forget to even wear the shirts I had to bed and just wear Dean's. This one was insanely comfortable. Now I understood why some girls stole their boyfriend's shirts. They're hella comfy.