Haunted {Dean Winchester 1}

Chapter 45

The Benders

"Listen, I'm just saying, I don't know how you get anything done when you to look like all you want to do is bed each other." Millie whispered. "Plus, the whole jealous thing that happened when he thought you and Sam were getting it on earlier tonight...I'm telling you, make a damn move, woman."

I place the last clean dish in the cabinet. "Mills..."

"No, listen, you're home, I took the spare bedroom, thanks by the way. There's only the couch left. Only one of those giant buffoons is going to fit on. Now, I could take one." Millie continued. "But I already have a hot boyfriend. So...that leaves option one, which is take Dean to bed. Nothing has to happen...sort of."

"You could mess with him a little, though. Sounds fun, right?" Mille asked. "Option number two is take Sam to bed and make Dean think he lied. You know, mess with him in a less fun for everyone way." 

"I am not taking Sam Winchester to bed." I whispered harshly.

"Okay, option one it is." Millie pushed herself up to sit on the counter. "Now, wear something that might as well be nothing, then get as close as you can without touching, right? After that, pretend to drift off to sleep like this doesn't bother you. Then just brush against him, just barely at first, then--"

"Millie, stop it." I hissed, feeling my face turn bright red. "What happened to staying at your boyfriend's house?"

"His mom is in the hospital, he went to stay with her." Millie answered. "Now back to our plan--"

"Millie, no more plans. We'll just see where the night takes us." 

___

I flick off the light as I walk into my bedroom. Dean had already seemingly made himself at home. He sat on my bed in nothing but a pair of boxers, flipping through TV channels.

 This is going to be a long night. 

I slip into bed, turning on the lamp that sat on my nightstand. I grab my book that sat next to it, cracking it open. 

I felt Dean's hand brush against the side of my thigh. A shiver ran down my back. 

Maybe I need to buy a bigger bed. Or a bigger house. 

This reminded me of when we were dating. Dean flipping through the TV with his head on my shoulder as I read. Eventually, he'd drift off, one arm encircling my waist. 

But now? Now we awkwardly sat as far away from one another as possible. Now he didn't put his hand on my leg, drawing mindless shapes on the inside of my thigh. Now he didn't kiss my neck, trying to distract me. 

We don't joke and laugh. We barely speak. 

"Dean?" I say quietly, closing my book and placing back on the nightstand.  

"Yeah, angel?" Dean asked, seeming to relax a little. 

Make a move, woman. 

I hear Millie's voice in my head. 

"Will you...will you hold me?" I asked, voice quiet, almost scared. Because I was. I'm scared of rejection, scared that he'd laugh at me. 

"Come here." Dean says, opening his arms. 

I sighed, moving closer and tucking myself into his side. I wrap an arm around his torso, resting my head on his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around me. 

"Is everything okay?" Dean asked me. "How is my little hitchhiker?"

"I'm okay." I mumbled, feeling his warmth bleed into me and calm my racing thoughts and worries.