HEY, ASSBUTT

Y/N took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

“I take it you’re Y/N,” he said, while Y/N nodded. He gestured to the group of girls behind them, “And they are the reason you’re doing this.”

Y/N sighed heavily. “Yes. They decided that I was beyond their capabilities.”

“A challenge?” Dean said with a smirk.

Y/N arched an eyebrow and then relented. “I guess…”

“Good.” His smirk grew, then turned to address Y/N’s friends. “I’ll take it from here. Thank you, ladies, for bringing the young woman here.”

She pouted, then gave a very obvious salutation. “Bye!”

On the chairlift, Dean was clearly trying to get an understanding of Y/N’s skills-- or lack thereof. Y/N had a hard time telling him that it was her first time, EVER, on a chairlift. He noticed.

“Is it just me, or have you never been on a chairlift before?” He said, glancing at Y/N’s hands which were clearly wrapped as tightly as possible around the bar keeping them from falling out of the seats.

Y/N shrugged, trying and failing to act casual.

“Okay,” Dean said, quite bravely if Y/N was honest. “We’ll just go over how to get off of the lift.”

“Sure,” Y/N stated, the amount of apprehension in her voice conveying her nerves.

“So what you’ll do is lean forward onto the edge of the seat. When we reach the edge of the ramp, you’ll just lean forward and slide down, just like sliding around in your socks.” Dean looked over to Y/N, who, if at all possible, looked even more nervous. “You can hold onto my arm if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

“That would be amazing,” She said, feeling self-conscious. “Thank you!”

“It’s my job, don’t worry about it,” Dean said reassuringly.

After what had seemed like an eternity, the chairlift had reached the last stretch of the mountain. Dean lifted up the safety bar and offered his arm out to Y/N.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he said, smiling.

“Oops,” Y/N laughed.

Dean scooched both of them to the end of the lift, and when his skis touch the ramp beneath them, he stood and pulled Y/N with him, and started to glide easily down the slick snow. She just followed, just dead weight.

After they had successfully gotten out of the way of the lift’s exit, Y/N raised her hands in celebration and screamed into the frigid air.

“That’s right!” She screeched, while Dean bent over because he was laughing too hard to stand. “In your face, professional engineers or whoever makes ski lifts too DAMN hard to get off!”

Once she was finished, Dean straightened up, still laughing. “I take it you didn’t like that experience.

Y/N blushed.

Wiping a tear of laughter from his face, Dean pulled his ski goggles over his face. “Come on Y/N. Let’s do this, to show those professional engineers or whoever that you can ski.” He laughed again and grabbed her hand.

Pulling her down to the place where skiers (Beginners, keep in mind) started the perilous journey down the mountain.

“Pizza,” he chanted, going back down the slow decline of the mountain, backward. “Say it with me,” he said to Y/N. “Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pi--”

She interrupted him. “Why exactly are we saying pizza, Dean?” He slowed, before stopping.

“Omigod,” Dean said, facepalming. “I forgot to tell you.” He looked up and made eye contact with Y/N. “Pizza is the shape your skis should take while you're going down the mountain-- or at least until you have the skill down. It makes you less aerodynamic, so it slows you down, making your speed controllable.”

They started again, this time both Dean and Y/N chanting. “Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pizza.”

Once Y/N had almost gotten that skill down, Dean decided he would let her lead.

“Y/N,” Dean said, hesitantly. “I was thinking that because you now have pizza down, you should try to lead us down the mountain.”

“No!” Y/N yelled surprised that Dean had suggested that. “What if I start to go too fast, or what if-”

Dean cut her off. “Y/N,” he said gently. “We could spend all day wondering what might happen, but I know almost anything that could happen, I can handle it.”

She gave him a doubtful look.

“If you start going to fast,” he said, before skiing down quickly, smoothly, and efficiently, to a tree, “I can catch up-- clearly. But, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, it’s fine.” He shrugged while keeping a sharp eye on Y/N as she pizza’d over to him. “We can just keep chanting pizza. Pizza. Pi-”

Y/n cut him off. “It’s fine. I’ll try to lead.”

And Y/N did well. By the time they had reached the bottom of the mountain-- which was about 600 feet away from them when they had the pizza talk- Y/N had only crashed or collapsed about five times. Dean congratulated her on that. She blushed.

“It’s almost twelve,” Dean said, pulling out his phone. “Do you want to grab some food?”

Y/N nodded her consent.

“Soo,” Dean said, “Where do you want to eat? We have so many options.” He said, twirling around, his ski boots clunking on the cobblestone.

“A burger place, maybe?”

Dean grinned. “Oh- a girl who likes burgers. I like you even more!”

Y/N laughed. “It’s the fries that do it for me.”

He gasped, holding his hands to his chest like he had been shot. “How dare?”

She smirked, before relenting. “I actually do like burgers, I was joking.”

“Well then,” Dean said, grabbing her hand and dragged her through the crowded path, a place clearly in mind, “Do I have the place for you!”

Grinning, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled through the crowds.

“Moe’s Original Barbecue?” She said, looking at Dean with a questioning smile. (Yes, it’s a real place. Yes, it has awesome burgers. Yes, I’ve been there.)

“The best burgers in town,” he said, and moved closer, whispering into her ear. “And pulled pork, but if you order that, you’ll break my heart.” He pulled back.

“We can’t have that,” Y/N said, shaking her head.

They walked inside of the restaurant, and settled down in a booth, before pulling off all of their gear. Their jackets went first, then their goggles and helmets. It wasn’t too cold outside, so Y/N had seen no point layer. Apparently, neither had Dean. She looked up to see him in just a t-shirt, and from the helmet. She gasped. He laughed.

“Didn’t see what I really looked like under all that crap,” Dean said, smirking.

“Shut up,” Y/N mumbled. “You just look a lot like an actor I know, Jensen Ackles, I think.”

He laughs. “I get that a lot.”

Just as Y/N was about to say something to embarrass herself, a waitress came over and asked them what their orders were.

“Umm, I’ll have a classic burger please?” Y/N said, mumbling.

“And, I will also enjoy the wonders of the classic burger,” Dean said, winking at the waitress. Y/N kicked him. He winced. Y/N smirked in his direction

Y/N thanked the waitress as she walked away. “Dude, what the hell was that?”

“I was just trying to get her number, for Sammy.”

“And I’m the waitress you were just flirting with.” Y/N smiled at the look on his face. “Who’s Sammy?”

“My brother,” Dean said, still pouting.

After talking about the most random and obscure things, their meal finally came. After the waitress had left, Y/N grabbed her burger, muttered something along the lines of “Finally” and stuffed her face. Dean smirked.

He also grabbed his burger, and together it took them only ten minutes to finish their meals. After they had split the check (a point of contention), they had walked out of the restaurant, only to have to say goodbye.

“What is your number,” Y/N said, feeling brave.

He gave it to her, and they smiled.

“Thanks for helping me “master” my skiing skills,” Y/N said, trying to slow the inevitable.

“Anytime,” Dean said, and it was clear he meant it.

“I guess I should go,” Y/N said, looking at her phone as it lit up with messages.

“Yeah,” Dean said, a bitter smile present on his face.

“Bye!” Y/N said. “I’ll text you! If I’m honest, It’ll probably be something like ‘Is Your refrigerator running?’”

He laughed and smiled.

She turned, looking over her shoulder, waving.

Dean watched until she had disappeared from her sight. Frowning, he looked down onto the ground, until his phone buzzed.

Is your refrigerator running? :P