What Are The Chances? Chapter 5 : Just To Be Near You
Title: What Are The Chances? [CHAPTER 5]
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/OFC
Rating: MA / NC17
Word Count: 3,975
Genre: het
Synopsis: One year after meeting the most enticing girl he's ever known, Dean still thinks about her. What are the chances he'll ever see her again?
Type of Feedback preferred: any concrit or positive feedback is welcome and encouraged. open flaming is not.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Dean Winchester, CW, Supernatural, Sam Winchester or anything else that is profitable.
This story is a sequel. In Every Job That Must Be Done There Is An Element Of Fun is the first story.
Previous Chapters
Chapter 5: Just To Be Near You The trip to the next town was one of the best half hours Dean had ever spent driving. The conversation rarely lagged and when it did, the silence was comfortable and easy. Reagan talked about her childhood and how she and her friends had made trails through the woods for fun and pretended they were stranded in the jungles of the Amazon. The stories fascinated him. When she asked him about his youth he was elusive once again and said that he and Sam had enjoyed generic games and bicycles. Truthful childhood stories would probably frighten her.
Reagan revealed that she was currently working for a small museum in a nearby town. Her face lit up when she described her work. She became animated as she described the simple exhibits and claimed some days they didn’t receive any visitors but being surrounding by historical and cultural evidence delighted her. In turn, it thrilled Dean to witness her enthusiasm.
“When you move, couldn’t you continue to work in a museum? Doesn’t that utilize your degree?” Dean had asked.
“Positions aren’t as easy to come by in the larger, more desirable museums especially not for newbies.” She explained; disappointment etched across her features.
As they approached town Dean noticed a lot of bright lights. Fast food restaraunts lined either side of the highway and billboards advertised great deals on new automobiles.
“Looks like we’ve made it. What should we do now? Are you hungry?”
Reagan made an exaggerated pout and replied, “I could eat.”
She wasn’t lying. Dean was impressed as Reagan chomped down a large cheeseburger. It had seemed far too big for her but she ate it without hesitation. She also kept pace with Dean and he was amused that he didn’t have to sit and wait on her to finish her meal. That had always annoyed him on dates before. Most girls would eat slowly and pick at their food as if they were ashamed to be actually hungry. By the time Dean had finished his chicken sandwich and cole slaw, Reagan was just sipping on a diet soda gazing around the restaurant.
He took her distraction as a moment to study her boldly. Sitting this close to her was extremely tempting. The booth felt so intimate, even under the glare of the fluorescent bulbs. Her profile was classic; her nose straight, her upper lip forming a graceful arch while the bottom lip softly pouted down. Her eyebrows had a natural arch and were just one shade darker than her golden hair. Thick eyelashes framed her eyes and rested against her high cheekbones. The freckles spanning her nose were a soft beige color that blended nicely onto her smooth, lightly tanned skin.
Dean cleared his throat and stretched his legs to relieve himself of the growing tightness in the front of his jeans. His legs bumped into Reagan’s and her head whipped back towards him.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, shaken that even a simple touch through clothing could still send jolts of electricity through him.
She looked down at her cup that she held in both hands and pressed in the tabs on the top of the plastic lid with her fingertips. She looked like she wanted to ask him a question and was trying to gather the nerve.
Dean waited patiently; content to stare at her.
“How long are you staying?” When she glanced up at him, it stung him to realize she looked scared.
“I’m not sure. I know that…I’m not ready to leave.” Dean answered honestly.
There was a quiet acceptance. Both of them had just decided to enjoy the moments they had together without asking too many questions.
Reagan stared towards the entrance of the restaurant and suddenly began to giggle. A hand came up to cover her mouth and her eyes crinkled at the corners. Dean turned to see what had caught her attention and noticed a man with a very long mullett walking up to the cashier.
“Woah, nice haircut.” He dragged out the first word in mock awe.
“Some people just can’t seem to let it go.” She choked out around her giggle.
Turning back towards Reagan with a smirk he commented, “I know a guy that still wears his hair like that.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He’s brilliant though. It’s funny. You’d never know it to look at him.”
Reagan propped her chin in her palm with her elbow resting on the tabletop. She was leaning slightly in towards Dean. “Interesting.”
He chuckled and leaned in towards her as well, both of his arms resting on the table. “You think everything is interesting.”
“I suppose I do.” She laughed.
Their voices had dropped in volume so that they were almost speaking in hushed tones to one another.
“Now that we’ve eaten, what would you like to do?”
Reagan thought for a moment, her lips twisted to the side and her eyebrows furrowed. Then her face lit up and she smiled with a childlike glee when she asked, “Do you like to play miniature golf?”
That wasn’t what Dean had been expecting at all.
***
“You totally cheated.”
“No I did not!” Reagan pretended to be insulted.
She was kicking Dean’s ass. Amusingly enough, he couldn’t care less. He had never had this much fun before.
“Okay. It’s on now.” He placed his orange golf ball on the putting green and prepared to take a swing. His ribbed cotton shirt clung to his muscled arms as he gripped the club, his jacket having been left behind in the car for better mobility of his arms. Raising his arms back and then bringing them forward again in a smooth motion he swung and completely missed the ball.
Dean glared at it in frustration as Reagan giggled behind him. “Can shoot a damn gun straight as an arrow but can’t hit a damn golf ball.”
“Did you say shoot a gun?”
Dean twisted around to face her, alarmed at his absentminded admission. She was staring at him with wide eyes, her hand frozen in the air a few inches below her chin.
“Uh, yeah.”
“What do you need to shoot a gun for?”
“My Dad used to take us hunting a lot when we were younger.” Dean remarked casually while looking down again at his ball. Trying to brush the comment off as inconsequential, he positioned himself again to swing.
“Oh no.” He heard displeasure in her voice and glanced up. “I love animals. I could never kill them.”
Dean was relieved somehow. “I don’t.” He expanded after seeing her mystified expression, “It’s been a long time. I don’t like to hunt.”
Reagan’s face transformed back into a pleasant stare. “I’ve always wanted to learn to shoot a gun though.”
“Really?” It was Dean’s turn to appear mystified. She really was a conundrum.
“Yes. There’s just something about the power of it. Kinda sexy. Plus, protection ya know?” She stood facing him, one hand on her hip, the other resting on the top of her golf club. Dean thought of Sam shooting a gun and could honestly say he’d never found it sexy. He wondered if Reagan would still find it sexy if she saw him shooting the creatures that he’d been forced to confront.
“Protection is good.” He replied.
“Sorry I distracted you. Please, feel free to take your shot.” She held her hand out in a gracious gesture.
“Yeah, it’s time to show you who is boss.” Dean leaned back down into position as Reagan cackled behind him.
On his third swing, he managed to connect to the ball and it bounced over the green, across a little bridge and rolled under a miniature windmill before exiting on the other side.
Reagan cheered him on as he completed the hole with a single stroke. He beamed at her with what he was sure was the dumbest look he had ever possessed. The moment was such pure joy, he felt drunk off of it.
He improved a little bit over the next few holes as he had more practice. She was a good sport and didn’t mind the thinning of her lead. When they approached the next to last hole, however, a look of determination crossed her face. She wanted to win and he could tell. Dean was captivated by her. She was gracious but aggressive. And just as she had eaten what she desired before, she wasn’t trying to hide her desire to win. Reagan was completely herself. Dean didn’t think anyone had ever been so honest with him.
He admired the way she looked leaning over the green. Her curdoroy pants hugged her bottom snugly and her legs looked long. The curve of her voluptuous hip made him want to grasp it in his hand and his body responded naturally. Dean found himself having to shift his weight to hide his growing erection.
It took her two hits to get the ball into the hole. He took his turn and was amazed when he also scored in two strokes. Perhaps he should have been letting her win but he was being himself as well and his competitive nature wouldn’t let him play with any less than his best effort.
When they approached the last hole, he again made it in two shots and was extremely pleased with his overall score. It might be a tie.
He wandered back to the entrance of the green to stand by Reagan as she took her final turn. Taking careful aim she swung and they watched the ball roll directly to the hole in one stroke. Dean’s mouth dropped open and a scream of glee erupted from Reagan. She spun around and threw herself at Dean before he had a chance to react. Her arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck and her breasts pressed against his chest as she stretched up onto her toes. Dean was immediately hard. Passion coursed through him and he had the intense craving to lay her down right on the green and do unspeakable things to her.
As quickly as it began however, Reagan broke the embrace. Stepping back with red cheeks, she glanced at the ground, then back at him. “I’m sorry. I got a little excited about the game.”
Taking a shaky breath he just murmured, “That’s okay.” What a foolish thing to say. Of course, it was okay. It was more than okay. Her body felt like heaven and he wanted to tell her so.
Dean gathered up their clubs and they headed back towards the cashier to turn them in. As they walked, Reagan tallied the score.
“Aha!” She announced. “I win by one point.”
“I think you miscounted.” Dean teased.
“I don’t think so.” She practically sang the words. She was smiling at him again and for the first time, he didn’t care that he had lost a game.
Afterwards, they stopped at the snack bar and got ice cream cones. Dean tried not to stare at Reagan as her lips wrapped around the white creamy treat. She licked around the cone and then over the top and a surge of memories flooded Dean’s brain.
They walked slowly around the fun park, enjoying the cool night air. Reagan asked Dean about his taste in music and they had a lengthy discussion about the eighties. She made him admit there was more he liked in the decade than he usually acknowledged. As they observed a group of kids playing video games, he caught her watching his wistful expression which he tried to quickly cover up with a joke. To her credit, she didn’t mention it but went along with the changing conversation.
“Are you ready to head back?” Dean’s green eyes peered at her as they tossed their napkins into a trash can.
“I suppose so.” She spoke softly.
As they strolled back to the car Dean reached over and took her hand into his. Reagan delighted him by not pulling away. Instead, she curled her fingers around his. Her hand felt small and warm and he reveled in the simple pleasure of it.
When they were back in the Impala and easing onto the highway, Dean grasped her hand again. Reagan curved her body on the seat so that she sat facing Dean. Leaning her head to the side she rested her cheek against the head rest, watching him drive. Every few moments, he’d turn and smile at her. He felt her thumb begin to stroke the back side of his hand sending little ripples of excitement through him.
“You know, I really thought I’d never see you again.” The words were almost a whisper in the quiet confines of the car. It felt like a confession.
“I didn’t either, although I hoped.” Dean’s voice remained low, matching the tone of hers.
“You did?”
“Yes. I’ve thought about you a lot over the last year Reagan.” His head swiveled to the side to view her reaction. She was wearing an expression of relief.
Several minutes of silence passed as Dean watched the road and Reagan watched him. The car was dark, with only the lights of the dashboard illuminating their faces as they moved further away from the town.
Reagan lifted her arm and propped her left elbow on top of the back seat. Her fist rested against her temple, her right hand still rubbing his.
“What’s your favorite movie?” She inquired with curiosity.
Dean thought for a moment and said, “It’s hard to choose one. Steve McQueen is kinda awesome; Bullit, The Great Escape…”
Reagan smirked. “So pretty much “guy films”, huh?”
Playfully Dean smarted off, “Well, you know, I am a guy.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, only a guy would fold laundry so terribly.”
A howl of laughter burst from Dean’s throat at her unexpected joke. His head leaned back and the infectious sound sent Reagan into a fit of giggles. Soon they found they couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the late hour making them giddy or perhaps it was simply the happiness they felt being together but it continued for several minutes until pale lights began to appear on the roadside and they realized they were almost back to her hometown.
Reagan indicated the route to her house by pointing and saying “left here” or “right here”. It really had not been far from the laundry mat so her walk earlier must have been short.
“This is it.”
Dean turned the car into the driveway she had pointed to. Pulling to a stop, he shut the engine off and the night was absolutely hushed. He peered out through the windshield at her home. The small bungalow sat atop a short hill. The cedar siding was a muted red; faded after years of weather. A soft porch light shone down on a graying deck covering the length of the front side of the house. Large oak trees hung down over the roof from either side of the yard and green ivy climbed over the left side, sloping down to the road. It looked cozy and inviting to Dean. Reagan had a real home. He felt a sharp stab of longing.
Reagan squeezed his hand to get his attention. When he turned to look at her she was watching him intently.
“It’s nice. It looks comfortable.” He gave her a warm smile.
Her shoulders lifted then fell again. “Eh. It’s okay. I really don’t like the ivy but the landlord has to maintain it so I don’t complain.” One side of her mouth lifted into a crooked grin.
When he didn’t return the grin she sobered. “I had a really great time tonight Dean. Thank you.”
“It was one of the best nights of my life.” The words almost sounded harsh coming from his lips, his desperation for her to believe him turning them into a declaration. His face was serious as he stared at her.
Reagan’s mouth opened slightly and he heard her breath release in a staggered pattern.
Dean looked into her blue eyes and lifted his right hand slowly. His palm cupped her cheek and her eyes fluttered. She leaned her face into his hand while he stroked his thumb backwards and forwards across her cheek. Dean’s stomach was in a nervous twist as he leaned across the seat. Reagan sat still, her eyes drifting down to his lips. He paused within an inch in front of her face. Their mouths were open and their breath lingered. Looking down at her through his lashes he noticed her lips trembling. Closing his eyes, he gently brought his lips to hers. Pressing them against Reagan’s he stayed still for a fraction of a second, then his lips parted, drew back and came down again, enclosing her top lip in between both of his. He heard her moan and her hands moved up to grasp his head, her fingers sinking into his hair. Dean moved his own left hand to wrap around her neck, drawing her closer to him. Reagan began to move her lips. She pulled his bottom lip into hers and sucked gently on it. He felt desire shoot like a hot liquid from the pit of his stomach down to his groin. A hiss escaped his mouth when he felt Reagan’s tongue glide along the edge of his lip. Dean opened his mouth to embrace it and she slipped it, velvety smooth, inside. His own tongue rubbed against it in a silky caress.
Splitting apart, Reagan gasped for breath but held her face close to Dean’s. Their foreheads leaned into one another; their mouths were open with the lips barely touching as they fought for air. Their chests heaved and their bodies trembled. White steam began to cover the windows as the heat expanded into the car. Dipping his head back down, Dean crushed his lips against hers. He kissed her harder, more demanding. Reagan eagerly returned it. Her hands slid further up the back of his head until her elbows were wrapped around his ears; holding his head in a hungry grip. Dean threw his arms around her waist and yanked her upper body against his. The softness of her breasts pressed into his chest and he felt himself harden. Pulling back from his lips, Reagan began kissing her way across his cheek until she reached his ear where she ran the tip of her tongue along the edge. Her hot breath blew against it sending a shiver down his spine. She raked her fingernails lightly down his back and moaned. Dean grunted and shifted their weight so she was reclining more in the seat, her head leaning against the door. Turning his head, his lips locked on Reagan’s neck. He gently sucked the skin into his mouth. She tasted sweet under his tongue. There was a tangle of movement and he felt Reagan stretch out beneath him. They were lying flat on the front seat of the car.
Bracing his arms on the seat on either side of her shoulders, he lifted his chest slightly off of her so he could move his lips down her neck until he reached her collarbone. Reagan panted; her neck arched lifting it up to his face. She pressed her breasts towards his chest and her fingers pressed harder into his shoulders. One of her knees lifted, encasing his hips against hers. Dean felt the heat coursing through him intensify and he roughly ground his pelvis down onto her. The friction ripped a moan from his throat. He lifted his face from her neck and brought them again to her lips where she welcomed him back enthusiastically. The kiss deepened and quickened as the urge to melt into one another increased.
Dean brought his hand to Reagan’s neck. The pads of his fingers stroked across her warm skin as he kissed her before beginning to travel downwards. His palm cupped her breast, squeezing it gently through her sweater.
Reagan placed both of her palms against his shoulders gently pushing him away and leaned her head back in a gasp; breaking the kiss. Dean looked down into her face as she took large gulps of air. Her cheeks were deep red and her blonde hair was fanned out behind her head, glowing against the black leather of the seat. There had never been anything sexier.
Dean’s chest heaved in breathless arousal. He held himself above her, the taught muscles of his arms stretched out.
“Dean, I’m sorry. I just need…can we take a breather, please?” Reagan choked out. Her eyes were apologetic.
He nodded and gulped, “Of course.” He sat up and leaned back into the driver’s side of the seat.
Reagan pulled herself up with her palms. She was looking down at the seat in between them as she ran her hands through her hair. Dean watched her as he calmed himself and waited for his breath to return to normal.
After a few minutes he began, “Reagan, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable…”
A wave of her hand cut him off. “No please, Dean. Never…you never made me uncomfortable. I just need…I need to slow down. For me.”
Her eyes were pleading when they met his, begging him to understand. He gave her a soft smile and again, raised his hand to her face. She turned her cheek into his palm and kissed it.
They sat for a couple more minutes, letting their body temperatures drop to appropriate human degrees but both watching the other.
A sly grin spread across Reagan’s face and she stated, “I really love this car.”
Dean laughed while she giggled at him.
“I should proably go inside.” Regret covered her words.
Dean opened the car door and shivered as the cool night breeze suddenly hit him. It felt stronger after the heat of the car. When he reached the other side of the Impala, Reagan was already stepping out. He held his hand out to her and when she slipped hers into it, he slammed the car door shut and led her forward to the house.
They stood at the door looking at one another. Their foreheads touched as her arms drapped around his neck. Dean’s arms wrapped loosely around her waist with his fingers intertwined behind her back.
“Can I see you again tomorrow?” Dean asked.
“You better.” Reagan gave him a seductive look.
“How about lunch?”
“You’re on.”
“Should I pick you up?”
“Why don’t I meet you? That way you can bring Sam. I think I’m ready to meet the other Winchester man.” Reagan swayed a little from side to side as she playfully spoke.
Dean’s body followed her rhythm. “I’m not sure I want you to. I kind of want to keep you all to myself.”
Reagan made a “tsk” sound. “Don’t be greedy now.”
They chuckled in unison.
Dean dipped his head further to reach her lips and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to them. Then he broke the hold while he still had the power to.
Stepping back he promised, “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” And with that she slid her key into the lock, opened the door and slipped inside.
Dean spun around on his heels in slow motion, expelling a long drawn-out breath.
He rode with the windows down on the way back to the motel, letting the cool air tame his lust. When he arrived at the room, Sam was fast asleep. Dean got ready for bed as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake him.
Slipping into the sheets, Dean reminisced about his night with Reagan. He couldn’t have dreamed a more perfect date. She excited him, confused him, amused him and turned him on. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough yet he didn’t know how he’d manage to fall asleep.
Laughing to himself, he wondered if this how kids feel the night before Christmas.
***
chapter 6