Son of a Bitch -- More SPN Imagines

Dean / Jealousy Looks Good on You Pt. 2

(Second part to the imagine for turtlelover1013 !!!)

You relaxed your neck, letting your head fall back against your seat. The Impala was rocking vigorously, seemingly more than usual. It was annoying you and making you feel really, really sick. Well, sicker than you already felt.

Remember when you needed something stronger to make you relax? You ended up getting a scotch... and then a shot of vodka... and another... and a few more after that... until you couldn't really count how many you had downed. Hey, you couldn't really be blamed; you wanted to forget stupid 'ole Jason and this stupid town and its stupid people and the stupid, shitty music that was playing and the stupid colorful strobe lights and the stupid blonde drunk girl that wouldn't leave Dean the fuck alone and the -

Woah.

Were you... jealous?

You really needed to stop drinking so much.

Burping rather loudly as a result from your upset stomach, you somehow manage to slur, "Hey, let's not rock the car too much."

You hear Sam snort at your comment and then Dean responds, "No one's rocking the car, Destiny."

You groan, annoyed at his sassiness. "Yes you arrreeeeee. The car is just so -" you hiccuped, "it's so bouncy. It's like," You bounce up and down in your seat, demonstrating how bouncy the car was, adding sound effects, "boing, boing, boing." You slumped back in your seat and stared out the window, watching the trees whizz past you.

The boys laughed at you. This confused you, so you muttered, "Stop laughing, meanies."

"D'ya hear that, Sammy? We're meanies, now." Dean said. You could just imagine his stupid, dumb smiling face, making fun of you.

"I'll try not to be such a meanie, Des. I apologize." Sam tried his best to be serious, but ended up laughing anyways.

"Meanies." you muttered again. Sleepiness overcame you, and your body felt like a thousand pounds. Unbuckling your seat belt, you lay down and stretch out across the backseat of the car. It was really comfy. You yawned and announced, "I'm gonna sleep."

Sam chuckled out, "That sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Destiny."

You put your hand under your head, trying to get comfortable. "Goodnight, Sammy. Goodnight, older meanie."

You hear the boys chuckle again, and then you can make out Dean saying, "I don't even get a name anymore, apparently."

You fall asleep listening to the brothers talk to each other, mingled with the sound of the Impala roaring.

-----

Two arms grab your calves, pulling you slowly out of the car. You allow the arms to take you, too tired and out-of-it to defy. One of the arms scoops up your legs, and the other slides under your back, lifting you up with after a slight struggle because of your deadweight. The arms carry you off somewhere - you presumed to your room. When they lay you down on your familiar and very, very comfy bed, you smile and sprawl out. You open your eyes barely to see Dean standing next to your bad.

Ah. He's who the arms belong to.

You smile lazily, slurring, "I'm eternally grateful."

He chuckled and grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed, placing it over you. It was so warm and comfy that you felt like you were in heaven.

Wait - were you in heaven?

Handsome man beside your bed, warm and cozy bed, comfy blanket, uber-soft pillow... maybe this was heaven?

Before you had time to figure this out, Dean's fingers brushed back the hair that was covering your face. His hand lingered for a few seconds, and you could see him smiling at you. Did you look funny? What was up with him?

"Whatchu lookin' at, boy?" you laughed.

He shook his head, retrieving his hand. "Nothing. Go to sleep." With saying that, he turns to leave. Images of him and that drunk blonde girl flash in your head. Your heart begins to ache, but you don't know why, exactly. Suddenly, you didn't want him to leave. You needed him to stay with you, to be away from that stupid girl. Before he can even take a step, you quickly grab his arm, halting him.

"Stay," you blurt out, unable to hold your tongue. You gulp a little, trying to refocus your brain. "P - please?"

Dean's shocked by your sudden neediness. He takes a moment to think, then finally says, "I can't do that. Goodnight, Destiny."

You yank him back to you. He huffs, obviously frustrated. "Dean, please stay. I need you to stay."

"Why?"

Now it was your turn to think. You didn't have a valid reason, you just wanted him to stay. You tried to force out the image of that girl touching on his arm, laughing over-dramatically at something he had said. You tried to force out the genuine, happy look on his face as he admired her laughing. Your heart ached some more. "Please."

"Des - " he couldn't finish his thought. He huffed again, lowering his gaze to the ground. He shook his head, seemingly making up his mind. "I can't. You're drunk. You aren't in your right mind."

"I need you to stay." you repeat, only half-recognizing that you weren't making any valid points whatsoever. Just saying the same thing over and over again. You couldn't form your thoughts and feelings into words. You just wanted him to understand that he needed to stay - you needed him to stay.

"No, that's not right, Destiny." he says, sternly.

"Dean..." You lock eyes with him. You give him a serious, pleading look, silently begging him to stay.

Sighing, he searches your eyes, trying to figure out what you were feeling. He finally gives in, removing your grip from his arm and removing his shoes and jacket. He saunters over slowly to the other side of the bed. He lifts up the covers and gets in the bed, keeping a safe distance from you. You scoot closer to him, spooning him and resting your head on his shoulder. You can hear him sigh again, and he turns over to gently push you back to your side of the bed. When you try again to cuddle with him, he states, "We can't do that."

You let out a whine, protesting him. "Deaannnnn."

When he doesn't respond and keeps his back turned away from you, you groan and turn away from him, laying on your back. You stare up at the ceiling, mentally cursing Dean Winchester's name for not just cuddling with you. That's all you wanted. It was completely harmless. He was being a meanie.

After a few seconds, he turns and lays on his back as well. His eyes study your face, but you ignore his gaze. He looks down at the closeness of yours and his hands. He inches his hand over to yours, lightly brushing his fingers over yours, as if asking for permission. Feeling your body ignite with simultaneous fire and fluff, you open your hand for him. His fingers lace with yours, his thumb rubbing lightly over your pointer finger.

And so you two lay there, holding hands, keeping a distance. Surprisingly, you found this extremely comforting, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep once more. His thumb rubs over your hand, soothing you just enough to finally rest.

(Eeeeekkkkkk so much fluffffff. I hope you enjoyed this second installment, Destiny! Please let me know what y'all thought about it!)