18 FOR KAT AND DEAN PLS I BEG
18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap
Dean Winchester was unbearable at the best of times. When he was sick, it was worse. But injured and out of commission? It would be a miracle if Kat could stop herself from punching a hole in Bobby’s wall.
“This blows,” he grumbled from his seat in the armchair. His right leg was done up in a cast up to his knee, propped up on a stool while he sat in front of the television. “If I have to watch one more procedural cop show, I’m gonna blow my brains out.”
“Have you considered—I don’t know—changing the channel?” Kat bit from her spot in the kitchen.
“Well I would if this remote wasn’t so shitty. Gotta jam the button like six times before anything fucking works. You sure you changed the batteries on this?”
“Yes, Dean. I changed them yesterday.”
“I don’t know. You sure?”
“Yes, Dean,” she repeated through clenched teeth. “I am sure I changed them yesterday.”
“Whatever. Even if I could change the damn channel, there’s nothing good on. News, cop shows, that shitty cartoon reboot that’s always running on Cartoon Network. Whatever happened to Scooby Doo, you know?”
Kat chose not to respond. They’d had this exact conversation the day before, and she was not going to get roped into it again. She’d stab herself with the butter knife before listening to Dean’s synopsis of his favorite twenty episodes of Scooby Doo again. For the moment, she reserved the knife for the peanut butter sandwich she was making.
“If I’m gonna be stuck here, Bobby could at least get better cable,” Dean complained. “There’s not even any decent soaps on. Days of Our Lives, Young and the Restless, General Hospital, Dr. Sexy…”
“Oh, so you admit that Dr. Sexy is a soap?”
“What? No! No, I just meant…you know, jumping off the General Hospital idea, I thought…”
“Save it,” she snorted, carrying his PBJ and chips in on a plate. “We all know your taste in media is questionable at best.”
“Excuse me?” he spat, glaring up at her. “Take that fucking back.”
“One word, Dean. Hentai.”
She dropped the plate of food into his lap and plopped down on the couch.
“Man,” Dean groaned, forgoing the argument to stare longingly at the TV. “I wish Bobby had better porn channels. I wonder if he’s got tapes somewhere around here…”
“Oh no. Fuck no. Absolutely not.”
“Come on,” Dean chuckled through a mouth of peanut butter. “A man’s a man. Bet he’s got a stash somewhere in the library. Maybe the panic room.”
“Dean, I’m not letting you watch porn in Bobby’s living room.”
“Please? Probably the most action I’m gonna get with this thing crushing my leg.”
He pouted down at his cast, and Kat rolled her eyes.
“Trust me, if anyone could figure out how to have sex when they’re immobilized on bed rest, I’m sure it’d be Dean Winchester.”
“That a challenge?” he asked with a smirk.
“No.”
Dean laughed, the armchair squeaking as he threw his head back. He picked up his plate, holding it out of the way and patting his legs. He beckoned her closer. Kat just raised her eyebrows.
“Come here,” he sighed. “No funny business, I promise. I’m just bored out of my mind.”
Kat knew better than to trust a Winchester, but she obliged. Delicately as she could, she draped herself across Dean’s lap, her legs kicked over the side and her shoulder leaning into his chest. It was hard to hide a smile as his arm wrapped around her waist. She plucked one of the chips from his plate and laughed at his grumpy huff.
“Price to pay for my company,” she said with a wink.
“Yeah, whatever. See if you have any more luck with the remote.”
It was nice. A quiet afternoon at Bobby’s, splitting a sandwich and watching TV. Kat was able to find a channel playing Die Hard, which Dean accepted without much complaint. It had commercials, sure, but it was better than listening to the 300th episode of SVU for the day.
She was chuckling at a Geico commercial when she felt Dean nose her hair out of the way. His breath tickled her neck, making her squirm. It was impossible to hide when she was sitting in his lap. Dean smirked against her skin.
“Knock it off,” she grumbled, elbowing him gently in the stomach. “No funny business, remember?”
“Can’t help it,” he mumbled. “A man’s a man.”
His nose trailed up to her chin, and she was turning to face him before he brought his hand up to her cheek. He kissed her gently, a thumb tracing her jaw. It always seemed to surprise her how soft he was. Dean made it so easy to forget everything else.
It was wonderful, but short lived.
A sharp whistle sent them jumping apart. Kat scrambled out of the armchair, under fire from Bobby’s stern glare.
“Can’t leave you two alone for a minute,” he growled. “That’s my damn chair, you know.”
Kat mumbled an apology while Dean rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Bobby. Little more than a minute. What, were you getting enough food to feed an army?”
“Had to if I’m gonna feed your ungrateful ass. Mind giving me some help, Kat?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you got it.”
She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and went to follow Bobby out to the truck. But not before Dean swatted her ass.
Kat flipped him off and hurried from the room. Maybe she’d stab him with the butter knife instead.
