#giepp

Barney dutifully sat down to await my further instructions, as I unlocked the door. People who didn’t know me so well thought four locks was excessive, especially when I had the deadbolt as well. But my hunters never said anything. They installed new locks for me, even, if they thought the door could be a little more secure. I couldn’t be too careful, and they knew it.

After getting the last bolt open, I opened the door. Sam and Dean knew the drill, which was a good sign in itself. The screen door was still locked closed, of course, and both of them had put a couple of fingers flat up against the screen so I could spray the holy water through at them. I squirted through at Sam, holding my breath. No sizzle. He checked out. Dean probably would too, but I would never take a chance on that. I sprayed a few spritzes of holy water onto his fingers, and he grinned at me as I watched it drip harmlessly off.

“It’s really us,” he said, “How you doing, sweetheart?”

With a smile, I unlocked the screen for them, and they both came in as I was putting the spray bottle away. While Dean locked the door back up, Sam was straight down on the ground to cater to Barney’s neediness.

“Hey, Barney! How you doing, buddy? You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Yeah, you’re a good boy!”

There’s something about a six foot five, broad shouldered demon killing machine crouching on your floor to baby your terrier that’s equal parts adorable and hot as fuck. My friend Georgie said you could trust a guy if your dog liked him. I wasn’t sure about that. Barney would like anyone who rubbed his belly and called him a good boy.

“Sam, we’re here to see the girl, not the dog,” said his brother, holding his arms out to hug me.

Before I could say that I didn’t mind, Dean had grabbed me into an embrace, pulling me into him so I almost fell and then quickly getting his arms around me.

“Are you getting shorter?” he asked. “Seems like you’re getting shorter…”

I punched him, some distance below the shoulder, which was about as high as I could reach. Admittedly, at four foot eleven, I was quite a lot shorter than average. But he was taller than average, so he wasn’t one to talk.

“I’m compact,” I said. “Fun size.”

“I bet you are,” Dean said, with a wink.

Most of my hunters flirted with me. Dean was particularly naughty, but I suspected that was just his default. He probably didn’t know how to interact with a girl except by flirting. He didn’t mean anything by it. Hunters tended to be male in a pretty overwhelming ratio, and most of them were single, loner types, but still looking for a good time. A few of the guys had tried it on, hoping I’d want to take things a little further, but I’d always said no and they respected that. I guess they had to, since I could imagine what the consequences of being anything less than civil towards me might be.

“Go and raid my kitchen!” I told him, “There’s cookies in the jar and beer in the fridge.”

Sam had finally finished smothering Barney in love, although it still wasn’t enough for him. Neediest dog in the world. Sam got back up to his feet, a stunning sight to behold, and just as his brother had done, grabbed me for a hug. But unlike Dean, he lifted me off the ground to do so. Oh my God, this guy! He smelt a little sweaty, probably from a long car trip. But it wasn’t an unpleasant smell. It was a scent I wanted to roll in, preferably while still being held by those powerful arms.

But, alas, he put me down.

“What brings you guys to town? A case?”

“Yeah, we had a thing about an hour away,” Sam said, following me into the kitchen.

“Couldn’t gank it quick enough,” Dean said. He already had a beer in one hand, and was reaching into my cookie jar with the other. “Knew you were sitting here alone, pining away for us to come visit.”

I rolled my eyes. “I could barely sleep at night.”

My parents were hunters. That’s why they all came. I couldn’t go a month without having someone drop in “just to see how you’re doing”. They dropped in, whenever they were in the area. Bobby Singer reckoned there wasn’t a hunter in the country that didn’t owe my mom and dad something. But they were gone now, so all the lives they’d saved and the favours they’d done were paid back to me, with outrageous interest.

I never asked anyone to unblock my cistern, or paint my fence. I protested strongly that I could afford plumbers and handymen and whatever else I needed. But they always said something like “you don’t want strange men coming into your house” and they were right. I didn’t want strange anyone coming anywhere near me. Not after what happened to my parents.

So my hunters came, instead. They showed up at my door, sometimes with presents. They brought protection spells they’d picked up, and painted Devil’s Traps under my rugs. They brought groceries to replace the food they would inevitably eat while camped out in my house. Sometimes they just brought flowers, cos they’d seen them and knew how I liked to have something to brighten up the house. Then they stayed a few days. And fixed things.

Dean was looking out the window at my back yard. “That hedge is out of control,” he said. “You want me to trim it?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to…”

“Happy to!” he said, “One beer, and I’ll get started. Clippers are in the shed, right?”

“Right,” I said. “But you really don’t need to.”

He did anyway. He spent a couple of hours outside, black t-shirt clinging to his obscenely toned chest, while he attacked not just the hedge but half my garden. Honestly, watching him was more of a favour than the yard work he did… That man could make weeding pornographic.

But that was nothing, nothing, compared to his brother. Because Sam Winchester noticed the watermark on my dining room ceiling. So he took off to the hardware store and came back, and then, praise be to God, he climbed onto my roof and started fixing the leak.

I went out there, under the guise of bringing Dean another beer, to look up. He was down to just a t-shirt as well, and good god, the veins in his arms! The sheer size of him! His biceps were probably wider than my head. I couldn’t see him so well, but I could tell he was sweating, and given the whiff of it I’d had before, I kind of wanted to bottle the stuff for later. The way his muscles moved when he wielded a hammer! I stared at him, speechless for a moment.

“Well, that’s just gross,” Dean said, taking the beer from me.

For a second I thought he meant the beer, but it was really hard to take my eyes off Sam’s forearms long enough to form a coherent response. “Wha’?”

“Your mouth’s hanging open, sweetheart. It’s obscene.”

That was enough to snap my attention away from Sam. “It’s not me,” I hissed. “That’s obscene!” I jerked my head towards the Greek God on my roof. “My neighbours are gonna call the cops. Public indecency.”

Dean shuddered. “Stop, for the love of God!”

I sighed, as I picked up the empty water glass Dean had left on the table. “Well… pointless dreaming. Pretty sure your brother’s not into me.”

The sound out of Dean’s mouth was something between a snort and a laugh. “Of course he is. Dude’s got eyes.”

Sam Winchester had never once flirted with me in ten years. Apart from the ones who weren’t into girls, he was possibly the only regular hunter visitor who had never tried to make any kind of move. That was kind of infuriating. At least the last four years I’d been waiting for my moment, and it never ever came. He was always polite and friendly, and sweet. Which, normally, I’d be all for. That’s what I would look for in a permanent relationship. But permanent relationships with hunters are a bad idea, so all I really wanted was for him to quickly and passionately fuck me for a few hours or days. But he never even tried. It was depressing.

“Yeah?” I asked. “Well, if he’s interested, he’s pretty bad at showing it.”

“Hmm…” Dean sipped his beer, surveying the dead branches he’d culled, and then looking back to me, and up at his brother on the roof. “I’m making a huge sacrifice here, because I think we both know you and I could have had something wonderful… But I could arrange to go out tonight. Alone.”

“You would do that?” I asked. “Despite our sizzling sexual chemistry?”

“Anything for you. But if he screws it up, that’s on him. I ain’t gonna be responsible for my brother being a dumbass.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

I spent the rest of the day in agony. He eventually came down and back into my house, sweat glistening on his face, his gargantuan forearms and his throat. His long hair was wet with it. And then he asked if he could take a shower. I fetched him a towel, while trying not to think about it. I had to keep repeating it in my head: Don’t ask if he wants help. Don’t ask if he wants help.

To keep myself distracted, I made a bunch of sandwiches. We watched a couple of movies. Dean, wingman of the century, took the armchair, so Sam had to sit next to me on the sofa. I tried to lean into him a little, but all he did was shuffle to give me more room. Barney, traitor that he was, leapt up onto his lap. I had to sit there, watching my dog being stroked with those enormous hands, those long fingers tangled in his fur.

I had a furious whispered conversation with Dean in the kitchen between movies, in which I told him he was crazy and his brother was so not into me it was ridiculous, but Dean insisted that I should not be such a wuss, and just make a move, already.

We ordered in some Chinese, and after that, Dean went out. He said he had a date and not to wait up.

So there we were. Sam and I, sitting side by side on my sofa. Barney was in the kitchen, eating his own dinner. Dean was gone. Both obstacles out of my way. I was not exactly sexually inexperienced and I knew what to do when alone with a guy. But I was used to having some kind of signals to go off, and Sam was just… nice.

“Thanks for fixing the roof,” I said. “I didn’t even know that’s what the problem was. I thought it was just discoloured or something.”

“No problem,” he said. “It’s a nice change, actually, work like that. I like to do something with my hands.”

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from whimpering. For Christ’s sake, do something with them right now!

“By the way, your shower was dripping, but it just needed the bolt tightened. I fixed it.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I really appreciate it. I should pay you back sometime…”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. Your parents…”

My parents had saved his father’s life, but that was not what I wanted to talk about! Was I not dropping hints hard enough? Did I need to be a little less subtle? I was just wearing a tanktop under my big jumper. It had spaghetti straps and a tendency to ride up a little if I didn’t keep pulling it back down.

I leant forward a little and pulled my jumper off. He was watching me. His eyes were definitely focused on me as I stripped down to that one thin layer. My top really had rolled up, and my midriff was exposed almost all the way to my bra. Come on Sam, pick up on what I’m laying down here…

“So… you fixed the roof cos of my parents?” I asked. “You just come visit me… cos of my parents?”

His jaw clenched slightly, as his eyes scanned my body, moving from my exposed stomach, up very slowly and finally resting on my face.

“Uh…” he smiled and I’ll be damned if he wasn’t just the cutest thing ever. He had those incredible arms and he smelt like testosterone, but God, he was so gentle and adorable at the same time. The little dimples and slight blush made me want to just lean forward and taste him. “No,” he said finally. “No… not anymore…”

I stopped breathing as his amazing blue-green-gold eyes stared right into mine. I swear I genuinely took in no oxygen at all for a full five seconds as he leaned forward.

“I come for you. Everyone comes for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re…”

But I didn’t want to wait and hear what I was. Not when he was leaning this close to me and I could smell him, and maybe it was just my imagination, but I could already taste him. Please God let me be reading this right, I thought, as I leant in and pushed my lips up against his.

I was careful, closed lips, very chaste, something I could easily take back as a silly whim. But then, I felt his tongue, pushing up against my closed mouth and so I let him in. His tongue immediately started roaming inside my mouth, exploring every ridge and bump. I felt a hand sliding around my naked waist, and another behind my head, long fingers brushing through my hair.

I stopped being careful, letting myself fall completely into him. He was so much bigger than me, it wasn’t like I could crush him. But though I was no longer holding myself upright, I didn’t move at all, his arms enough to hold me in place. That hand on my waist fell lower, sliding inside my underwear and gripping my ass tight like I might run if he didn’t hold on to me. But I had no intention of running anywhere.

He finally had to stop kissing me, coming up for air, but he was on my neck almost immediately, sucking my skin into his mouth for seconds at a time, before letting go and doing it again.

It was hard to think straight and I was dizzy, my vision a little cloudy at the thought that this was actually happening. But I had to make the most of it. Realising I didn’t need my hands for anything else, I gripped at his shirt. I had noticed earlier, just casually, certainly not fantasising, that it had those snap buttons. So a hand on each side and one little tug and yes! I was able to get all the buttons undone in two goes, and then, keeping his face buried in my neck as long as he possibly could, he helped me to get it off, first one arm, then the other.

By this point, he was lying on his back on my sofa, somewhat propped up against the arm, while I was on top of him, face to face for possibly the first time. But as nice as his kisses were, they weren’t what I wanted right that second. He was so big, I couldn’t get my arms all the way around his torso. Every muscle was defined and toned, and I just wanted to touch. I wanted to taste.

“Jesus…” he muttered, as my lips closed around his nipple. “Shit…”

Oh God, he tasted like he smelled. He was slightly sweet, and all delicious and I couldn’t get enough of his flavour in my mouth at once. I made my best effort though, all lips and tongue and I think maybe biting him a little.

“Wait…” he moaned. “Wait…”

Still desperately hungry, I did as he asked, lying flat against his chest for a moment so I could get some breath back. His right arm tightened around me and he gripped onto my hip and then, with just one low groan, he was able to get to his feet. But… his other hand was still in my hair, and dear God, he was holding me up with one arm!

I was lightheaded, I was weak, I was maybe going to faint. I put my head against his shoulder as we moved, and I figured he must have been taking me into my bedroom, but beyond that I couldn’t really think about. I noticed, though, how very gently he put me down, my head on the pillow, before he climbed on top of me.

He held himself up with one arm, while sweeping my hair back from my face with the other.

“You okay?” he asked. “I can stop…”

“No!” I squealed, gripping his bicep, and feeling that my fingers didn’t even come close to meeting on the other side. No, God no. I was a little dizzy from excitement, maybe, but I sure as hell didn’t want him to stop. Not ever. “No! Keep going!”

He flashed me his sweet dimples again, and kissed me once on the mouth, and then he was gone. I could feel his hands going around each of my wrists, and he put my arms up above me, before letting go. Then he was tugging on my tanktop, pulling it straight up and over my head and arms at the same time, in one movement.

His hands were so huge on either side of my body. On one side, his fingers were so spread out that his thumb sat just under my bra while his pinky was scraping the hem of my underwear. I tried to sit up to see what he was doing but before I could, I felt his hot wet lips on my skin, his teeth scraping me just the tiniest bit as he kissed me once, twice, three times, moving down my stomach.

Then I couldn’t sit up to look, because it was taking all my energy just to lie still. If I moved, he might stop, and there wasn’t much space left before he’d run out of room on my stomach, and what would happen then?

“Fuuuuck,” I moaned, as I felt his enormous hands moving lower. “Oh my God, Sam!”

I didn’t really understand how it happened, but while I was still lying back with my eyes closed trying to contain my urge to scream, he moved and then suddenly my sweatpants and my panties were all off at the same time, and I hadn’t even had to move. He had just undressed me like some sort of tornado, powerfully ripping everything away at once.

And then his hands were on my hips, and his head dipped down. He kissed my belly button, and then dropped lower and lower and all I could think was Jesus Christ, this can’t really be happening the things his tongue did and that was just in my mouth FUCK!!!

It had been a long week. Driving almost non-stop was bad enough, but driving around the country with a new couple who cannot seem to stop touching each other was even worse. The little giggles and screeches were making you want to scream at the top of your lungs. Couldn’t they focus for one second on the storm forming just a few miles ahead?

“Seriously guys, Could you stop touching each other for just one second and give me an update on the storm? Is it still forming or has Mother Nature screwed us over again?”

You heard a grunt from the back of the van.

“Wow Y/N, no need to be grumpy about it. Just because you don’t get any, doesn’t mean we can’t start the fun here.”

You rolled your eyes, even though the oh-so-subtle Jason couldn’t see.

“It has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with Jen and you, Jason. I don’t need anything but an update on the goddamn storm we have been chasing for the last hour, ok?

Another grunt came from the back, but this time followed by the ticking of a keyboard.

“The storm is still forming. By the looks of it, it will start hitting the ground soon. Step on it Y/N, maybe we can film it this time.”

The last few weeks had been frustrating. Every time a storm picked up, it would disappear before you got a good shot. Granted, there were a lot more storms than usual, but without the footage, it didn’t do any good.

You had been chasing storms since you were 16, but never had you seen this many storms in such a short period of time. In 6 months you had seen more storms than in your first 5 years of storm chasing.

Your dad was a meteorologist and when he got laid off his job, he wanted to chase the storms himself. Your mom didn’t agree with that and mom moved to New York, to go live with her family. You had decided to stay with your dad. Mom didn’t agree of course, but thought you would change your mind after a few weeks. Unfortunately for her, you didn’t. You actually liked being on the road and spending all your time with your dad. When you finished high school, your dad sold the house and you went storm chasing full time for a year, before you were supposed to start college. Before that year ended, you and your dad were in an accident. He didn’t survive and you started chasing alone. Along the way, you picked up Jason and a few years later, Jennifer completed the trio. The trio in which you were now the third wheel, since Jen and Jason got together a month ago.

“Y/N, you have to lighten up.” Jen started, “This storm is the biggest we have seen since Sioux Falls, and by the looks of it, it will be hanging around Chicago for a while. And who knows, maybe you’ll see the love of your life again.” She smiled and winked at you in the rearview mirror. You felt your face break into a smile. Yes, the love of your life. You met in Missouri a few months ago. You immediately fell in love, but the next day you had to leave without saying goodbye. You had seen each other a few times after that, but one of you always had to leave. But every time you would see each other, it would be better than the time before.

Right before the city lines of Chicago, the storm flared up. “This is the biggest one I’ve seen so far!” Jason was almost screaming because of the strong winds. He was right. This storm was bigger than anything you had ever seen. After you parked the car at the side of the road, you set up the equipment and got the camera rolling. Now you just had to wait until the storm hit the ground, and you would have the most amazing footage.

A few hours later, you, Jason and Jen were sitting in your motel room reviewing the footage you shot on your laptop. Just as you got to the moment where the storm hit the ground, the screen flickered. The next shot was when the storm was already moving into Chicago..

“Damnit! We didn’t get the money shot.” Jason yelled.”Why are we even doing this when we don’t even get the moment on camera. This means no real food this week.”

You rewinded the video and watched it again. A white Cadillac drove past you just before the video flickered.

“Jason, honey, calm down, we have enough shots of the storm to sell. Did you see any other chaser out there? I think we are the only one with footage this close.” Jen tried to calm Jason down. “Maybe we should go to our own room and think about something else.” You shivered involuntarily. Great, they had to talk about that while you were still in the room.

You walked to the window and looked outside. The storm was still going strong, but was going all around town. There was no way of getting any footage now.

“I’m going out.” you said, “Getting something to eat and I need to clear my head.” Without waiting for an answer, you walked out the door.

The guy behind the motel desk gave you directions to the closest diner that didn’t suck. You were enjoying the storm. For a moment you closed your eyes and when you opened them, you stopped dead in your tracks. The love of your life. Just standing there. Slowly you came closer and put out your arm. The feel of her, it was amazing. It had been a few weeks but she looked even more beautiful.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You jumped at the sound of a male voice. “ Who gave you permission to touch my car?”

You turned around and looked in the face of a very angry man.He looked like he was going to strangle you. You felt embarrassed and scared at the same time. You never thought the love of your life would have an owner. You knew obviously, but you never really thought about it. And even if you had thought about it, you never could have imagined the owner being so attractive. Piercing green eyes, broad shoulders. You found yourself amazed by him and somehow you weren’t able to speak in complete sentences.

“I, uhm, I didn’t know. Uhm, I’m so-”

“You didn’t know what? That the car belonged to someone? Go get your own damn car and stop touching mine!”

You took your hand of the car, and turned around to walk away. You took a few steps and turned around again. “I’m really sorry for any trouble I caused. I’ve seen this car a few times before, and I always admired her.” you told the angry car owner.  You tried your puppy eyes to make sure he really knew you were sorry. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you could even pop out a few tears. You looked him straight in the eyes and you saw his eyes soften just a little bit. “You know, my brother can do those puppy eyes too and they don’t work on me.” he said and started to walk to the driver's side of the car

You and your puppy eyes accepted defeat and while muttering a goodbye, you turned around again and started walking to the diner. You were thinking about that beautiful ‘67 Chevrolet Impala when someone tapped your shoulder. You grabbed the wrist of whoever was touching you and turned around quickly, causing the arm attached to the wrist to twist. You were ready to kick your attacker in the place where it hurts, when you recognised him. It was angry car-owner. You quickly let go of the wrist. “I’m so sorry, I thought you were attacking me” you started apologizing again. To your surprise he was smiling at you. “I should have seen that coming. Never approach a woman on the street who has just been verbally assaulted by a dick.” You smiled. “Yeah, well I should learn not to touch a strangers car, no matter how beautiful that car may be.”

“Let’s call it even. My name is Dean and this is my Baby.” He winked at you and you felt your cheeks getting red. “Well, my name is Y/N and I think I am in love with your Baby.” He smiled again. “Before you get serious with my Baby, I would have to know a few things about you. Like what are your intentions with her?” You tried to be serious. ”Sir, I have nothing but good intentions. I have been very respectful to her, never touched anything I’m not supposed to touch and I have never made an improper suggestion.” By the end of your sentence, you couldn’t keep your serious face on anymore and you and Dean, the angry car owner, were laughing in the middle of the street. You felt a drop of water on your face and looked up. The clouds above were dark and it almost felt like nighttime. “We should get off the streets,” you warned, “or in about twenty seconds, we will be soaked.” Dean looked up and nodded.”You want a ride anywhere?” Right at that moment, the rain came pouring down. Dean didn’t wait for an answer and put his hand on your back, guiding you to the car. You both got in, but the heavy rain got you good. You looked at eachother and started laughing again. “Great timing, you should be a weather girl.” He winked again and you felt your cheeks becoming red again. “Well, since I am a storm chaser, it is good to know when it’s going to rain. Kinda comes with the job.” He looked at you like he didn’t understand. “You chase storms? For a living?” You nodded. “Yeah, it pays the bills. Well, most of them anyway.” “Well, that explains why you are in Chicago, there’s a pretty big one going on right now. Shouldn’t you be filming this stuff?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, we got some stuff this afternoon, but the storm is hitting the city centre right now, can’t get any good shots with all these buildings.” He nodded as if he knew what you were talking about.

God, he was even more gorgeous when he is closer. There was nothing more than a few centimeters between your bodies and you still wanted to be closer. Your hands were almost touching. You were watching his hands, admiring how big they were, when he suddenly moved his hand and started the car.”So, where are you staying?”

After a short drive to the motel, you hesitated to leave the car. You really didn’t want to leave, without knowing more about this guy. You knew he had great taste in cars and music, since Led Zeppelin was playing during the ride, but other than his first name, he didn’t tell you anything.

He saw you hesitate. “You know, maybe I should walk you to your room, make sure you get there safe. You never know what may be hidden here.” He looked at you with a smirk. “I have met some crazy people here in Chicago and I couldn’t let my favorite weather girl get hurt. ” You laughed out loud at his comment. “I would very much appreciate that, Dean. It’s nice to have someone to protect me.” This time, you did the winking. You opened the door and almost ran to your room, Dean right behind you. You got out your key and took a deep breath before you opened the door. Were you really doing this? You never brought someone with you, let alone a stranger. Okay, a gorgeous stranger, but still a stranger. You felt Deans hand on yours. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in your ear, “I won’t do anything you don’t want to. If you want to just sit and talk, that would be perfect.” You relaxed a little and opened the door. Jason and Jen were gone and you had the room to yourselves.

“So,” you started, “at least we can warm up and get dry.” You took off your jacket and walked to the kitchenette. “You want some coffee?” “Yeah that would be great” Dean answered and you started to make the coffee.

While the coffeemaker was doing its job, you tried to make some small talk. You found out that he and his brother work together and are always on the road together. He wouldn’t get into the specifics of his job, but, as he stated it, “We help a lot of people getting out of trouble.”

You filled two cups with coffee and turned around. There he was,standing in the middle of the room, still with his jacket on. You walked towards him. “You know, it’s easier to get warm if you take your wet jacket off.” He shrugged, but took his jacket off anyway. You handed him his coffee and sat down on the bed. The warm coffee in your hands warmed you up quick and you started getting nervous again. Dean filled the silence with anecdotes about his little brother, who apparently isn’t that little anymore. He talked so much that you relaxed and when you finished your coffee, you were both sitting and laughing on the bed, your legs over his and his strong hands were rubbing your feet.

Dean was in the middle of telling a story about a prank war with his brother when his phone rang. He looked at the screen and started to get up. “I’m sorry, I have to take this call, I’ll be right back.” He went outside while you took the coffee cups to the kitchenette. When Dean walked back into the room, he picked up his jacket from the chair. “I’m so sorry Y/N, but I have to go. My brother needs me.”

“Oh, that’s ok. I’ve had a lot of fun talking to you” You tried to hide your disappointment, but he saw right through that. He took a step towards you. “I had a lot of fun talking to you too, and I would love to talk to you more.” You smiled. “Well, maybe we’ll run into each other again.” You took a step forward. “I really hope so.” Dean smirked as he closed the distance between you and cupped your face in his hands. He hesitated, but this time, you were sure of what you wanted. You crashed your lips into his and kissed him. He immediately responded and pushed his body into yours. A small moan escaped your lips, muffled by his lips. Then he broke off the kiss and took a step back.”We need to save something for the next time we see each other.” he said while he put on his jacket. “Don’t want to reveal all my tricks at once.”

“Wasn’t planning on calling you anything,” she said tersely; because damn it she was already half-smitten and she resented him for it. She pushed a helmet and a stack of tokens over the counter and pointed them down to the cages. “They’re all open, take whichever one you want.”

__________________________

The nice thing about Wednesday nights at the park was that it was quiet, but unfortunately that also meant there wasn’t really much to do. So lacking other entertainment, Riley kept looking down towards the batting cages to glance at the brothers. Dean had shed his jacket and went into the cage first, took a few swings. He didn’t really look like a ballplayer, but he could swing a bat okay.

Sammy – not so much. He’d swing wildly, ineffectually at fastballs that sailed on by. His grip was all over the place, and the bat drifted downward at each swing, probably because the thing must’ve weighed ten pounds.

Dean hovered outside the chain link fence, cheering ridiculously any time the kid clipped a tiny piece of the ball. A couple times he swung the door open, stepped inside to adjust the kid’s grip or slap his shoulder encouragingly. (The kid didn’t look encouraged.)

About five minutes more was all Riley could stand.  She grabbed her equipment keys and an aluminum bat and headed down to the cages. Dean turned to watch her when she was ten yards out, and Sammy turned when he noted Dean had gone quiet.

“Can I make a suggestion?” she said to them both.

“Yeah, yeah!” Dean piped in. “Always listen to the pros, Sammy; she knows what she’s doing. Whatcha got for us, Riley?”

Riley wasn’t really known for her tact, but she’d been doing this long enough to avoid saying something like you suck, kid, have you considered tennis? She turned right to Sammy – cause this is about the kid, she thought, not the smarmy older brother. “It’s Sammy, right?”

“Sam.”

“OK, Sam. Now you’re taking some power swings here, good velocity and a nice heavy piece of equipment –“ she gestured at the ridiculous bat – “But you should also work on aim and accuracy or you’ll tire out too quick and your swing’ll suffer. Now is that your bat, or Dean’s?”

“It’s our dad’s actually.”

“Here’s what I’d like to do, if it’s okay with you. I’d like to go in and take the pitch speed down a bit, just a few miles-per-hour, and let you work with an aluminum bat ‘til you get your form perfected. Then you can get back to power swings later. That sound okay?”

Sam smiled big, and for the first time she saw a resemblance between the brothers. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good, thanks.”

She handed him the aluminum bat. “You stand out here for a minute and work on your grip for the new bat, and I’ll adjust the speed.”

Afterwards, Riley stuck around for a few swings, and Sam was definitely doing better. He looked like he was relaxing more, and was connecting with almost every pitch.

Meanwhile Dean was looking at her, steadily enough to make her nervous. “Thanks,” he said when she turned and glared at him. “That was nice of you.” She just shrugged, and he continued. “Uh – can I buy you a soda, to thank you?” he asked.

It sounded so genuine that it actually caught her off guard. “Well, employees get free drinks. But we’re closing down the cages in about a half-hour, so when you and Sammy – uh, Sam – are done, come on up and I’ll get you guys some cokes. Okay?”

Back at the counter, she still kept half an eye on them – Sam’s swing was improving, and Dean’s cheers kept getting louder and more enthusiastic.

After a while Riley gave up the pretense that she wasn’t just looking at Dean. What the hell, he knew it, she knew it, that ship has sailed. Dean was leaning into the fence, fingers threaded through the chain link, watching each pitch. The grey henley he wore fit tight over a broad muscular back, sleeves pushed high over thick arms, his ass in well-worn jeans angled out from the fence. At one point Dean looked back over his shoulder, met her eyes, smiled. How can a guy generate that much heat from twenty yards away, she thought. I’m toast.

They came up almost exactly a half-hour later, Sam charging up the stairs with a big smile, Dean bringing up the rear. She told them to come in for a coke, gestured towards the door into the arcade and concessions area.

“Hey Marie, will you set these two up with a couple drinks on me? Sam – coke, root beer, what?”

“Coke, please.”

“Dean?”

“Same.”

Marie was the plump, older, slightly cranky woman who ran concessions in the evenings, and she gave the boys a scowl (which Riley had pretty much expected). “I’m closing up, y’know,” she growled. “Trying to get cleaned up here –“

“Why don’t you leave the fountain for me, then,” Riley said. I’ll clean and lock it before I close.” She turned to the boys. “Concessions and the cages close up a half-hour before everything else, to give us time to clean up and clear out mini-golf before we lock the gates.”

Marie poured Sam’s coke and handed it to Riley, and Dean said “Hey, you guys get us a seat, I’ll be over in a sec.” Riley walked Sam to a table, leaving Dean behind to get his coke and the cold shoulder from Marie, who kept a scowl on her face and arms crossed tight while Dean chattered on.

Riley talked about baseball with Sam and cast an occasional glance at Dean – at one point she heard him say something about “birthday,” and three minutes more of chatter and flirting, and Marie’s booming laugh started to echo through the arcade. Then Dean was on his way over with two cokes, three hot dogs and a massive pile of fries. (Somehow, it made Riley feel better that she wasn’t the only one who’d been charmed that night.)

They talked while they ate. She didn’t learn much about the boys, except that their dad had come into town to help a buddy with a job, and that they traveled around a lot. The conversation was mostly jokes, bad puns, and good-natured banter between the brothers. The three of them talked a lot about movies and a little about cars (Riley was saving up for a new Mustang, which Dean scoffed at while praising “the real classics” like the ’67 Impala their dad drove).

When Sammy dashed off to go play the Street Fighter machine, Dean’s knee drifted over to rest against Riley’s. A few minutes later his fingers came to rest lightly on her thigh, and he was leaning in very, very close to talk. Riley was having a little trouble breathing, in the most amazing way.

9:30 came, and Riley excused herself to walk out Marie, check the course for stray golfers and lock the main gate. By the time she got back, the fries were gone and Dean was busing their tray. “So, um – do you gotta get home?” he asked. “Should we –“

“Not unless you have to take off … I mean, the arcade games are free after 9:30.” (This was a new policy she’d just invented.)

Sam’s eyes got seriously wide.

Dean asked: “You want to head home Sammy, or play a while?”

“Jeez, Dean,” Sam said, like this was stupidest question he’d ever heard and what had he done to deserve this idiot of a brother?

Riley grabbed a coffee tin full of tokens from the office, and Sam was off like a shot to the Daytona racing games. “C’mon, Riley, I bet there’s a Mustang!” he said, and they all settled in to their stations for the race. Riley beat both the boys’ race times by several seconds, and when Dean looked shellshocked at that, she just said “dude, I practically live here. Trust me, I know the course.”

So they raced some more, and played Street Fighter and Star Wars and House of the Dead. Both boys had deadly aim in the shooting games, but Dean was so appallingly bad at Dance Dance Revolution that halfway through he dragged Riley on the platform to finish it out.

When the tin was almost empty of tokens, Riley checked her watch to see that it was near midnight.

“You guys want any more coke? I should clean the fountain.”

“Nah, we’re set,” Dean said. “But lemme help you. Sammy, you good?” Sam nodded, turned his attention back to his game.

As she walked through the swinging door into the back, Riley sensed Dean moving closer behind her. Then she felt his hand slide to her waist, his fingers slipping through one belt loop of her jeans as he smoothly tugged her around. She turned to face him and he pulled her tight to him, their thighs lightly bumping as he pressed her backwards to the wall. She felt the chilled metal of the walk-in cooler at her back, and then Dean’s warm, solid body flush against her. Before she could say a word he was leaning down to cover her mouth with his.

Almost instantly she was breathless. His kisses were firm and confident, but he left her room enough to sigh and gasp into him. His soft lips would press, then slide away, leaving her chasing after the taste of him. Then he would lean back in and glide the tip of his tongue over the seam of her lips, or nip gently at her bottom lip before kissing her again.

At the same time his hands glided tenderly over her upper body. His fingers stroked over her hip and up her side to tease just below the curve of her breast … then a hand slipped down to the small of her back, fingers sliding just above the waistband of her jeans to find a warm patch of bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Finally his hand threaded through the hair at the back of her head and he tugged to tip her chin higher, slanting their mouths closer together.

She slid her hands up his chest, delighted by how the muscle felt under her palms. She could feel the coiled strength in his shoulders and arms and it occurred to her that he could trap her, block her in with no effort at all. Instead his every touch was light, teasing, even as she was pressing into him pleading for more.

As their kisses grew more intense, Dean’s hands came to rest on her hips, his thumbs rhythmically stroking over each hipbone as his tongue darted in and out of her mouth. Riley’s hips canted out into his and she heard his breath catch. His mouth drifted down to lick at the heartbeat in the hollow of her throat, and she moaned deeply. He pulled back to look at her with heavy-lidded eyes, pupils blown, freckles standing out against the flush of his cheeks, lips open and wet. She thought it was just about the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Fascinated by the sight of him, she stroked her fingers over the back of his neck, and after a moment he leaned back into her touch, his eyelids fluttering shut. For just a moment his expression was so innocent, the hairs on his neck so surprisingly soft, and wasn’t this man just an impossible mix of hard and soft?

She breathed deep in an effort to slow her heartbeat and focus… Maybe she’d never made it past third base before, and maybe she was even a little unclear on exactly what her body was crying out for, but she was pretty damn sure she wanted it with this man and she wanted it right now, thankyouverymuch.

Dean bowed his head again and kissed her deeply, and when he finally pulled back they were both breathless. His lips traced over her cheek to whisper softly in her ear: “god, baby, you taste so good. I’ve been wanting to do this for hours.”

“What took you so long,” she said.

He chuckled, a deep, low sound that she could feel ripple through her body. “Thought you might throw us out,” he said. “I couldn’t mess up Sammy’s birthday again.”

She started back, genuinely surprised. “You mean it really is his birthday?”

“Yeah. Well, 2 days ago.” He laughed, rested his forehead against hers. “I kept telling him let’s wait for Dad to celebrate, only Dad hasn’t come back and wouldn’t answer his phone. He finally called to say he’ll be here tomorrow morning, but no time for birthdays ‘cause we’re off to Maine on a job as soon as he gets here.” He sighed, eyes drifting shut like he couldn’t meet her gaze. “All Sammy wanted was a baseball glove and a cake and I can’t even do that.”

Riley couldn’t quite see how Dean had ruined the birthday; it seemed to her that his dad was the one making the dick moves here… but it was easy to see that wasn’t the right thing to say.

Instead she ran her fingers through his hair, traced the edge of his cheekbone, all the while mentally scrolling through nearby available couches, car back seats, the Air Hockey table, any halfway horizontal surface she could get this man to, immediately …

So nobody was more surprised than Riley when she heard herself say: “We have cake. For the weekend birthday parties.”

And then somehow, instead of making out with the hottest guy she’d ever met (like any sane person would do), she was sliding out of his arms to pull open the walk-in and grab a sheet cake. They couldn’t find icing, so Riley wrote Happy Birthday SamMY on it with ketchup (actually Dean added the –MY afterwards). It looked pretty sloppy (and sort of disgusting), but they agreed that at least ketchup was better than mustard. Riley tracked down candles, grabbed a handful of brightly colored fringed cone party hats (Dean wore two, precariously angled over each ear), and then they were parading into the arcade belting out Happy Birthday (waaay out of tune) and slicing out huge slabs of birthday cake onto Toy Story paper plates.

Saying they ate way too much cake was a serious understatement, and twenty minutes later Sam was damn near in a cake coma. He was laid out, arms and legs spread wide on the alley of a SkeeBall machine, moaning happily about how he was never ever ever eating anything, ever again.

And Dean couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking at Riley like he’d just won the lottery. He leaned in and kissed her lightly. “This is totally the best birthday party he’s ever had,” he whispered. “For me too.”

And Riley just thought, how weird was it that that was enough for her right now? Christ, at that very moment, looking at the sparkle in Dean’s green eyes, it seemed enough for a very long time.

Sam was half-asleep by the time they locked up the arcade; he was weaving a bit and bumping off Dean’s side, and Dean kept a hand at the back of his neck to keep him steady. Riley walked them out to the gate, unlocked it, propped it wide enough to let them out. She could just see the long black car with out-of-state plates parked across the lot. Dean handed Sam the wooden bat and a set of keys, said, “start up the car, Sammy?” and Sam turned back long enough to say, “Thanks Riley. That was awesome.”

And then it was just her and Dean, and … well. He took her face gently in his hands, leaned in close, their noses brushing against each other. “Thank you.” He kissed her again, the barest whisper of his lips against hers, and exhaled so his warm breath feathered over her skin. Then he stepped away, facing her even as he started to back away into the shadows.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll come see you next time we’re in the neighborhood.”

 __________________________

Riley was surprised to hear that he did come by the park a few months later, towards the end of January. She was off at college, and got an email from one of the kids she’d trained to replace her at the park. Who exactly is Dean, it said. Because he is incredibly hot and looked very disappointed you weren’t here. I wanted very much to comfort him. Can I keep him?

Riley wrote back immediately, Well, he’s not really mine. But if you can catch him, you can keep him.