45 hours

Sugar Honey Ice Tea

My dreams are full of Dean and kissing and other things, and I wake up grumpy. I've decided to keep his t-shirt as a nightie. If he wants it back, he'll have to wrestle it off me or go digging around in my bed. I doubt he'll do either.

It's nearly midday when I stumble down the stairs. I wish I could have slept longer, but my stomach is demanding some food and I know there's only enough sugary cereal for one. I smell coffee. For a second I'm afraid that I've slept the whole weekend away and my parents are home. Dean is standing by the stove, flipping pancakes. A plate has a decent stack of haphazardly dumped pancakes, which are threatening to fall onto the counter. "I'm almost done. You could set the table." He speaks without turning around.
"Wow Dean, I wouldn't have thought you'd have enough brain cells to know how to cook."
"Just because you're shit at something doesn't mean everyone else is too." He throws a quick glance in my direction. "And I want my t-shirt back."
I laugh as I grab plates and cutlery. "No. Finders keepers."
"Seriously Lily, I want it back."
With a snort I finish setting the table. "Why don't you come get it." Dean takes great care to pile the last pancakes on the plate before he turns the stove off and moves the skillet and spatula to the side.
"You might want to start running." His voice is quiet and calm, but my heart speeds up in my chest. When he turns around, there's an intense look in his eyes and it has me setting off towards the stairs with a squeal of zero chill.

I feel him behind me. His longer legs are eating up whatever distance there is between us. I have to grab the doorpost to heave myself into my room. My hands flail for the door, but Dean beats me to it. And before I have a chance to catch my breath, he's shut the door behind him. We stand there, looking at each other, breathing heavily.
Dean gestures at me. "Hand it over." I shake my head. He moves towards me. I stand my ground. When he's close enough to grab it, me, he stops. The colour on his cheeks, which I first thought was from the running, is still there and I realise he'll never actually remove the t-shirt himself. He might be many things: a tool, a douche, an idiot, a wankstain... but he's yet to show any evidence of being a true creep. He raises his hands a little, but drops them to his sides.
"Well... aren't you... gonna... come get... it?" I should probably work on my cardio.
He rubs his neck. "I just. I want it back, Lily. It's brand new." He does this awkward wave at me. "I mean, you could have any of my other t-shirts... like, if you want."
"Like the one you're wearing right now?" He looks down at his t-shirt. It's a plain black t-shirt, but it's clearly been washed a few times.
"Yeah, I guess..."
"Then strip."
"What? Now?" I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head a little. "You're a fucking nightmare." He mutters the last bit under his breath, but I'm sure he meant for me to hear.
"I'm a goddamn ray of rainbow sunshine." And with that I pull his t-shirt over my head.
"What the..." Dean comically averts his eyes and desperately tries to look anywhere except my chest.
"Come on then, strip." Turning his back to me, Dean removes the black t-shirt and when he turns my way again I see he has his eyes closed. He holds his t-shirt out for me to grab and I know I'm being such a bitch, but this is the best kind of power high and I'm going to surf this wave for as long as possible. If I was a cat, I'd purr with pleasure. I yank it out of his hand and throw the blue one at him. It lands on his shoulder and he manages to grab it before it slides to the floor.

With swift movement, Dean pulls his t-shirt on. "I can't believe I forgot what a pain you are. You play your part too well at school."
"What are you talking about?" I feel his comment isn't in any way a compliment.
He casts a quick glance my way to see that I've covered myself. "The Good Girl act. All mousy and quiet like." He shakes his head. "I pity the guy who falls for it, only to discover you're nothing like that."
With a pout, I cross my arms over my chest again. "Well. According to social media YOU'RE the guy who fell for it..." I'm not prepared when he steps right into my personal space. I bump into my desk.
"I don't know if I fell so much." His voice is low and quiet. "To me, it's been more of a steady and long and deliciously slow descent into madness." My heart is all fluttery in my chest and I don't know how to breathe.
"What?"
"You heard me." My body remembers what it's like to kiss him and sways towards him, before my brain has a chance to take control and stop me from being stupid. Dean tucks some hair behind my ear and lets his fingers linger on my cheek. "I know I'm fucked, but this is the best kind of insanity." Then he drops his hand and leaves my room. I can't feel my body. Only the patch of skin on my cheek where he touched me with his fingers.

I don't remember getting dressed, but I'm walking down the stairs in Luke's old sweats and Dean's t-shirt. Stolen clothes are the best. My hair isn't really long enough to be in a messy bun on the top of my head, but I make one anyway, ignoring the locks of hair escaping.
"Hey Lily, do you know if we have any strawberries?" Luke has his head in the fridge.
"Mum said she bought some." I put the kettle on and get mugs. I need tea. Luke cheers as he finds the berries. I roll my eyes at my dumb brother and find myself looking Dean in the eye. He's almost-smiling behind his coffee, but when I continue looking at him, his smile morphs into a grin and I stick my tongue out. Normality restored?
"Are you nerds going to continue playing DemonCore today?" They share a look and a shrug.
"I mean, yeah, but I guess we could play like Dark Universe 2 too?" Luke looks at Dean, who just shrugs his shoulders again as he stuffs his face with pancakes.
"So, I do the bathrooms and the kitchen while you play DemonCore, and then you dust and hoover the house while I play DU2." I stab a couple of pancakes and drop them on my plate.
"Can't I do the kitchen instead?" Luke hates dusting.
"No." I drench my pancakes in syrup. My twin sighs and focuses on his plate.

My plan, Luke's too, was to do the chores tomorrow morning, but that's all changed now that Dean invaded our chill weekend. I mutter things under my breath as I scrub the upstairs bathroom. From downstairs I hear the muted sound of gunfire and explosions, I have yet to return the remote. I really want to raise the volume on DU2, but I have to be stealthy about it. The hiding place it too good to give away. Breathing a sigh of relief, I stash the cleaning supplies and wash my hands. My fun bun has escaped its confinements and now my hair is a blonde mess poking in all directions. I pop into my room to run a brush through it.