I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Sugar Rush

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed. Warmth still clung to the sheets, the scent of cherries on his pillow. In my groggy state, I wondered just how long he had slept. It was early morning now, and the sun wasn't even up. It had to be at least ten hours from the time I had gone to bed.

I stretched languidly, my toes curling into the sheets. The bed sighed under my weight as I pulled myself to my feet, rolled my shoulder muscles, and rubbed the tension out of my neck. To my shock, I felt well-rested despite the anxiety that had filled my chest before I fell asleep.

The floor was cold beneath my feet, a stark contrast to the warmth of my bed. I paused for a moment at the base of the steps, taking in the smell of an early breakfast that lingered in the kitchen.

When I popped my head around the corner I found Booth, Andrew, Calliope, Hidalgo, and Dean in the kitchen, each with a plate of what appeared to be pastries. Andrew reached into our small oven and pulled out a few more, shirking his mitts almost immediately to tuck into his.

"Oh, hey," Dean welcomed warmly through a mouthful of pastry. "I was going to let you sleep a bit longer." My cheeks dusted pink as I met Calliope's sly gaze before she returned for another helping.

"How long have you been up?" I asked softly, my voice was still slightly hoarse from the long night. Dean glanced at the clock mounted to the wall above the oven.

"About twenty minutes. You're a space heater, y'know that? Thought I was suffocating," he said and shoveled another forkful of pastry into his mouth. "You should probably eat and pack up. Sam's got a case for us." I lifted a brow and the kitchen fell silent. Dean glanced around the kitchen with wide eyes, stopping mid-chew. He finally turned back to me with a wide smile barely containing the mouthful. "If you want to, I mean."

I grinned. "Just give me a few minutes." Dean breathed an audible sigh of relief. As I loaded up my own plate I glanced at Hidalgo from the corner of my eye. In his hands was one plate with a half-eaten pastry - beside him was a plate with two, freshly out of the oven.

The man caught my gaze and shrugged, shoveling another forkful of the strawberry pastry into his mouth. "Sasha's been craving them. Just waiting for it to cool." I smiled warmly at him as he scratched the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

After my quick breakfast, I hurried upstairs, throwing whatever clothes my fingers brushed into my duffel bag. The sound of the steps creaking under someone's weight caught my attention and I turned to see Booth standing at the top of the stairs.

"Hey," I welcomed, pausing my packing to gesture for him to take a seat on the bed. "What's up?"

Booth sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He watched silently as I packed hurriedly, his brain racing to determine just what he wanted to ask about.

"Is that going to be a normal thing?" he finally settled on asking.

"Is what going to be a normal thing?"

"You know what," he grumbled and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, watching my pause in my packing once more, my back turned to him. "That whole... in my head thing."

I glanced over my shoulder as I dropped another shirt into the bag. "I think so. It'll be useful, y'know."

He scoffed and ran his rough hands through his short hair. "Right, useful. Freaky, more like." I chuckled at that and nodded in agreement. "You learn that from your tervuren friend? All that... talking and that dark... place."

"No," I replied with a lopsided smile, although he couldn't see it. "He gave me the idea, but he didn't... I wasn't taught how." Booth hummed in response.