Venom

052

Helen shouldn't have drunk that much. Her head was throbbing, her legs and feet sore from the multiple falls she'd endured on her way home (and on the dance floor), her throat dry from the shouting, and her liver complaining about the amount of alcohol she'd chucked down.
Even lying in bed was uncomfortable. Having Dean's heavy body on top of hers certainly didn't help.

With a guttural groan, she managed to slip an arm out of the amount of limbs that she and Dean were. "Dean," she called him, but he kept sleeping. "Wake up, you bear," she grunted, trying to shake his body off her. "For fuck's sake," she muttered.

She raised her hand as much as she could and let it fall right on his meaty thigh with a loud smack!
Dean jolted up, reaching his own hand down on the sore spot, rolling off her and landing on his back, right on the hard floor. "Jesus fuck!" he yelled. "What the hell?!" His hand massaged the handprint that was surely about to appear on his leg.

"You wouldn't move, so I made you," she replied, hanging her arm down the bed, her knuckles brushing the ground and her face turned towards him, while her body remained flat, on her stomach. "Good morning," she added, smiling innocently.

Dean rolled his eyes and hoisted himself up, bracing his body against the wall. His eyes could barely focus the objects around them. "Not a good morning, but whatever. That shit hurt, by the way."

Helen chuckled, turning on her back. "Sorry." She sat up, covering her naked body with the covers. Wait a second. She looked down at her, then at him... "Why are you wearing clothes and I'm not?" she asked, confused.

"Uh..." he hesitated, scratching his nape. "I think I might have, uh, tore the dress off you last night? Uhh... sorry," he said, trying to give her a sweet smile.

Helen scowled at him. "I liked that dress."

"Yeah, me too. That's why I did it."

She frowned, cocking her head, her hair sliding to her side. "That makes no sense."

"I'll buy you another one, okay?"

"It's fine," she giggled. "I'll get one with even less fabric."

"Please do," he replied to that, lying back in bed with her and resting his head on her lap, looking up at her.

Helen stared at him, and then lifted her forefinger. "Boop," she said, touching the tip of his nose. He frowned. "Boop." The pad of her finger touched his nose again.

"What the actual fuck are you doing?" he asked, confused.

She smirked. "Boop." Again the same move.

He forced back a grin. "Why are you booping my nose? Aren't you supposed to be a big bad viper?"

"I am. Sometimes. What, you dont like when I do this? Boop," she answered, brushing his nose once more.

He chuckled. "No, I don't mind it. It's just... weird."

"If you're a pussy and can't take a little sweetness from me just say it," she teased him, booping him again.

He grinned. "We are what we eat," he said, then lifted his own giant hand to her face. "Boop." She laughed, leaning down and kissing his nose, then his lips. "Hmm, I like this even more."

"I know you do," she said, kissing him again. "I'm hungry." He opened his mouth to reply, but she slammed her hand over it. "Do not make a joke about eating you. Just don't." He smirked on her mouth, then licking it. "If you think that grosses me out, you need to remember that I've been in New York's sewers."

"Fair enough," he mumbled on her palm, the sound muffled. "Can we take a shower now? I want to get out of these clothes."

"A real shower or 'a shower'"