Written by: gooberlanes13

Edited by: KariGorsuch

The familiar smoke hazy of the bar greeted us as we stepped over the threshold into the only decent watering hole for miles- The Roadhouse. The place was packed. Everybar stool was occupied, every pool cue in use, and nearly every table filled with groups nursing drinks and hushed conversations.

Sex and Candy poured through the speakers, the sultry tune wrapping around us as we hesitated just before the dance floor.

"I'll grab a table," I volunteered.

Bri nodded, already pushing her way toward the bar.

I weaved through the crowd, scanning the room from wall to wall. The atmosphere wasn't just busy- it was tense. Dark clothes, stiff shoulders, sharp jawlines. And the weapons. Not-so-hidden holsters strapped to hips, the gleam of knives catching the dim light. There was an edge to this place, a hum of something dangerous beneath the casual clink of glasses and quiet murmurs.

As I passed a pool table, I felt eyes on me- steady and unwavering. I glanced up and locked onto a stranger's gaze, deep brown and unreadable, yet holding an intensity that made my stomach tighten.

I exhaled, gripping the edges of my jean jacket and pulling it tighter around me, a subconscious move. Dean flashed through my mind, grounding me in an imaginary claim that didn't even exist.

Shaking it off, I slid into a booth tucked into the far corner of the bar, shrugging out of my jacket. I adjusted the strap of my halter top, subtly checking if those same eyes were still on me. They were.

A sigh slipped from my lips just as Bri reappeared, sliding a Long Island Iced Tea across the table. "Whatcha scanning for?" she asked, her voice casual but curious.

Her presence snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to her, noting the mischievous glint in her eyes as she sipped from the straw of her signature drink, a vibrant Kinky cocktail in a sleek glass.

I reached for my drink, but before taking a sip, I stole one last glance toward the pool table. The stranger hadn't looked away.

I picked up the glass of Tea, taking a slow sip through my straw. The taste hit my tongue, familiar yet... off. I sighed, unsatisfied, and nudged the glass toward the edge of the table. It just wasn't the same. A quiet grumble from my stomach made me shift uncomfortably.

Bri caught it. "No tea either?" she frowned, eyeing me.

I sighed dramatically, folding my arms on the table. "Speaking of tea..." I leaned forward, voice teasing. "...what's up with you and Sam?"

Bri's posture stiffened. "What about me and Sam?" she shot back, a little too quickly, avoiding my gaze.

I smirked. "What happened in Minnesota?"

She blinked, her fingers absentmindedly stirring her drink. "Nothing happened."

"Don't give me that dumb act." I flashed a knowing grin. "Something definitely happened, and now you two are attached at the hip."

Bri hesitated, clearly weighing her words, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. She toyed with her straw like it held the answer to getting out of this conversation.

My eyes widened as the realization hit. "Oh my God. You had sex?!" I squealed, unable to contain my excitement—before quickly clearing my throat and composing myself. "You have to tell me about it."

Bri's lips twitched as she fought back a full smile. "I don't have to tell you anything." But the flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks told me all I needed to know.

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Bri."

Her eyes finally met mine, guarded yet intrigued.

"You know you're going to tell me now or later... or—" I let the word hang, my smirk widening.

Bri narrowed her eyes. "...Or what?"

I shrugged, feigning innocence. "I'll just ask Sam."

Her eyes immediately widened. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

Her mouth opened, then closed. For the first time, she actually looked nervous.

I grinned. "So... you wanna start at the beginning or just skip to the good part?"

Bri glared at me from across the table, her lips pressed into a thin line, but I could see the cracks forming in her defenses. Finally, with a sharp exhale, she shifted in her seat, and the faintest smile ghosted across her lips.

"We did..." Her voice was soft, but the glow in her cheeks said everything.

I felt my own face light up. "And?"

Bri's smile deepened. "It was amazing."

"Fucking finally!" I practically sang, sliding to the edge of my seat and grabbing her hands away from the glass she'd been cupping. "Amazing as in 'rough and sexy' or 'you couldn't walk the next day'?"

She bit her lip, clearly savoring the memory. Then, with a slow, deliberate smile, she murmured, "It was... magnetizing. "

I blinked. "Magnetizing?"

She nodded, her expression dreamy in a way I'd never seen before.

I grinned, pulling my hands back and lifting my untouched Tea. "I've never heard you talk about sex like that before." I raised my glass. "To magnetizing."

Bri rolled her eyes but clinked her drink against mine.

"So," she said, too casually, "what's this about you and Dean?"

My fingers tightened around my glass as I froze for half a second. "What about Dean?" I shot back, a little too quickly.

Bri's knowing smirk widened. "I saw his belt on your bed." She tapped the table between us like she was laying down evidence in a trial. "Spill."

I hesitated, biting back the grin that had been threatening to break free since it happened. But the moment I let out a small sigh, choosing my words carefully, the smile finally won. It spread across my lips, my face, and down to the warmth in my chest.

"It was right after you went downstairs for those books," I admitted.

"In the shower?" Bri asked, her brows raising in almost impressed amusement.

I shrugged. "Girl, self-cleaning."

She chuckled as I leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Anyway," I continued, lowering my voice slightly. "We didn't have sex, but we fooled around and it was..." I trailed off, my heart stuttering a little just at the memory. "...out of this world."

Bri's brows lifted. "Out of this world?" she echoed. "You've never described sex like that before. Sorry—" She held up her hands in mock surrender. "—the not-sex."

I rolled my eyes, reaching for my Tea out of habit—only to stop myself short. With a small frown, I set it back down, the craving hitting me harder than expected.

Bri caught the motion, but before she could comment, she took a slow sip from her straw and hit me with the damning question.

"So... are you an item now, or...?" She let the question hang, her expression carefully neutral. Then, as my frown deepened, she added, "Or is that question off-limits?"

"No, it's fine," I sighed, waving off her concern. "It's just... we haven't even talked about that yet."

I shifted in my seat, interlacing my fingers on the table, suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of the conversation.

"I never thought I'd even get to this point with Dean," I admitted. "Let alone hear him admit he felt anything for me beyond—" I paused, weighing my words before shrugging. "—wood."

Bri choked on her drink, coughing as she tried to contain her laughter.

I smirked but quickly sobered. "Whatever this thing is between us... it's fragile. It's new, and it's scary fragile at the beginning." I gestured vaguely, trying to put into words what even I wasn't sure of.

Bri tilted her head slightly, her gaze cutting right through me. "You're already scared you're going to lose him."

I inhaled sharply, my face falling before I could stop it. She wasn't wrong.

I turned the tables before she could dig deeper. "And you're terrified of losing Sam," I countered, watching as my words hit their mark.

Bri's lips parted slightly as if to argue, but no words came. Her expression mirrored mine—unguarded, uncertain.

The clink of glass on wood broke the silence as a bartender set down a tray of drinks at our table.

"Okay, so these are from the gentlemen across the bar..." the bartender said, nodding behind her as she set down a fresh Kinky in front of Bri and a Long Island Iced Tea in front of me. "...is there something wrong with the Tea?"

"No—turns out, I just want water," I blurted out quickly.

Bri shot me a suspicious look, and the bartender mirrored it.

"Is... that a problem?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Uh... no," she said, shaking her head. "I'll just replace these..." She picked up the untouched Teas with a sigh before disappearing behind the bar. A moment later, she returned and slid a glass of water in front of me. "There we are. Anything else for you ladies?"

"No thanks," Bri answered before I could.

As soon as the bartender walked away, Bri leaned in. "What the hell was that about?"

I kept my gaze on the melting ice cubes in my untouched water. "What are you talking about?"

Bri didn't answer right away, just flicked her eyes toward the blonde bartender—who, now that I was paying attention, kept glancing in our direction.

"You think—?" I started, but Bri cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"No. There's no way." She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head and picked up her drink. "Anyway..."

"You're really going to drink that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as she started sipping harder.

"It's a free drink," she said with a shrug.

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"Anyway," she continued, her tone forcedly casual, "I wouldn't say Sam and I are anything right now..."

I gave her a pointed look as she trailed off. Her fingers twitched against the slick glass of her drink, and the moment our eyes met, she shifted uncomfortably.

"...But even if we were," she rushed on, "I don't know what we'd be. Even if I talked to him about it, and he probably—"

"You need to talk to Sam." I reached across the table, catching her fidgeting hand in mine. "Stop wondering, questioning, running from this and just talk to him."

Bri froze for a beat, then exhaled sharply.

"Talk to Dean," she shot back, her voice firmer than she probably intended.

I blinked at her. The tension in her shoulders eased almost immediately, and her face softened. "Sorry," she murmured.

I sighed, pulling my hand back. "I've tried." I ran my fingers along the rim of my glass. "I've shown him how I feel, and he—until earlier—" I paused, my frown deepening. "—I don't know."

Bri leaned forward, searching my face. "Let me ask you this," she said, taking my hand again. "When he kissed you... how did it make you feel?"

"Like the world didn't exist anymore," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "Like he was the only thing that mattered, and nothing else even remotely measured up to his touch."

I blinked at Bri, and she mirrored my surprise.

"Fuck." Bri blinked rapidly, processing my words. "Shit, Eve..."

"What?" I frowned, feeling my brows furrow in confusion.

"You got it bad, hun..." Bri's expression shifted between concern and amusement, her lips twitching into a small grin. "I've never seen you so twisted and frazzled over some guy."

"He's not just some guy..." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "...he's Dean."

Bri made a fake gagging sound, which earned her a playful kick under the table.

Sledgehammer blared through the speakers, shaking the air around us. Bri finished her Kinky, then motioned for me to follow her. When I hesitated, she didn't give me a choice—grabbing my arm and pulling me up.

"Wait," she called, pausing to pull out her phone, tap out a quick text, and slide it back into her back pocket. "Sam—apparently he's on his way—"

"Did they—?" I started, but Bri shrugged, her body language casual. She grabbed my hand again, tugging me toward the dancefloor as the bassline kicked in, pushing us into sync with the music.

We danced. We laughed. We let the night sweep us up... until we were interrupted.

"Hey." I looked up at the deep voice and immediately recognized the brown eyes from earlier, the same eyes that had been following me across the room when we first arrived.

"Damien." He pointed at himself, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, moving fluidly with the beat of the music. "You?"

Bri and I exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between us. I gave her a small, knowing nod toward the guy approaching us from behind. With another subtle movement, we both shifted our attention to the men attempting to interact.

"Was there something wrong with the Tea?" Damien asked, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing in on me as he began to dance, his movements slow and deliberate. My chest tightened, my focus flickering for a moment to the large weapon hanging by his side—what might as well have been a machete.

"No," I answered sharply, forcing my gaze away from the weapon.

"Then what was wrong?" he pressed, circling me like a predator.

"I don't drink the stuff," I lied smoothly, keeping my eyes averted, my body tense under his scrutiny.

"You ordered one though," Damien noted, his voice a low drawl as he completed another circle and met my eyes, the tension between us thickening. "So, what's the real issue—or who's the guy?"

"Can't a girl just not drink a drink a stranger bought her?" I shot back, my irritation growing as he closed the distance between us, his body dangerously close.

"I mean, you can..." Damien shrugged, his movements still flowing with the beat, his hands creeping too close to my waist. "...but it's weird, don't you think?"

I smirked, suddenly facing him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you not used to girls not falling for your bullshit?"

Damien's grin widened, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. "Feisty!" he said, grabbing my hands and spinning me around, pressing my back against his chest with force.

I tried to break free, but his hands tightened around my hips, the grip almost suffocating.

"Do you fucking mind?!" I yelled, the shift in my body instantaneous. Every muscle in me tensed, the anger flooding through me, the control slipping away. I could feel my pulse quicken, the adrenaline racing as I fought against the sudden restraint.

"Hey," barked a familiar voice, followed by a sudden struggle behind me. My hips were released, and a solid thud echoed through the floorboards. I spun around to find Dean's angry eyes locked on Damien.

"Do we have a fucking problem, dude?" Damien growled, stumbling back to his feet, holding his bloody nose. He made a half-hearted attempt to reach for my hand again.

Dean didn't even flinch. He stepped in between us, cutting Damien off. "You're really askin' me that?" His voice was dangerously calm, but there was a sharpness there that made the air feel like it was on fire. "We got a problem, alright. You're about to have a big one if you don't step off."

Damien didn't move. Without a second thought, Dean wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me back against him. His touch was firm, protective, like a wall I didn't even need to think about. Damien's eyes burned into his hands, and I could see the fight in him flicker out.

"Do yourself a favor," Dean said, his voice cold and low, "walk away. Now."

Damien hesitated, but when Dean didn't budge, he finally backed off, muttering under his breath.

"That's what I thought." Dean's voice was a smirk in itself. He turned toward me, and his expression shifted, though his intensity didn't. "You. Me. Outside. Now."

He tugged me forward, his fingers interlacing with mine in a way that was both commanding and comforting. "Let's go, sweetheart. We're done here."

As he led me toward the exit, a familiar heat crept up my neck, my cheeks flushing under his gaze.

"What about Bri—?" I began, glancing over my shoulder.

"Sam's got her," Dean called back, pulling me out of the bar and into the dirt lot. He yanked me toward the Impala, which was parked next to our Mustang, then stopped just short of the car. "Get in."

Without a word, I did as I was told. The engine roared to life as Dean slammed the gas, his hands gripping the wheel like he was ready to tear the whole world apart. As we tore out of the gravel lot, I noticed Dean's driving was a damn near disaster. He barely missed a group of people walking across the parking lot.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" I snapped, my voice rising over the rumble of the engine. "You can't just drive like a maniac—what the hell's wrong with you?"

Dean growled in response, barely even hearing me as he jerked the wheel, swerving the Impala off the road and slamming it to a halt. He killed the engine, then turned to me, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like he might crack a tooth. "You think waltzing into a hunter's bar like that is a joke?" His eyes burned with fury. "What, you have a death wish? Or is pissing me off your idea of fun?"

I didn't even have time to respond before he moved closer, sliding across the seat until he was just inches away. He cupped my face, like he needed to touch me to make sure I was real. It caught me off guard, and for a moment, I was frozen, still processing what had just happened back at the bar. But it wasn't just some guy—it was another hunter, in a damn hunter's bar. The gravity of it hit me hard.

"Why did I have to hear about this from Bobby?" His voice softened just a fraction, but the frustration was still there, thick in the air. He pulled his hand away from my face, then glanced at my seatbelt. I unclicked it, trying to collect my thoughts.

I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I didn't... I couldn't," I started, then trailed off. The words didn't make any sense. I hadn't thought about how to tell him.

"You do realize this isn't just about you risking your life, right?" Dean spoke quietly, his gaze locked on the dashboard. The sound of light rain tapping against the roof filled the silence. "You didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"Do you blame me, Dean?" I shot back, staring at the raindrops streaking across the windshield. "We haven't known each other for—"

"Time is irrelevant," Dean cut in, his voice sharp. He finally lifted his eyes from the dashboard, locking onto mine with an intensity that made me flinch. "You think you're invincible now, huh? That just because you're—" His words faltered for a second, and I saw him bite his tongue, forcing the words back. "Because you're different, you can just walk into places where people like you get ganked for sport?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. I hadn't realized what I'd put myself into, and hearing him say it made the weight of it crash over me.

"You don't get it, do you?" Dean's voice dropped, low and raw, as he leaned in, gripping my chin gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I just got you back, and you pull this shit?" His voice wavered just for a second—vulnerability bleeding through the cracks in his usual tough exterior. "You don't think I'd burn the whole world down to keep you safe?"

His words hit harder than anything I expected. My eyes stung, threatening to swell as his gaze flickered between my eyes and my lips. I could feel him waiting for something—an answer, a response—but all I could do was sit there, stunned by his honesty and the raw emotion that he was showing me.

"Dean," my voice finally broke the thick, suffocating silence that hung between us. "I'm still me, you know?" I spoke quietly, almost afraid to let my usual sarcastic charm slip through.

"Are you?" Dean shot back, his voice not angry, but filled with something deeper—self-doubt, raw and unsettling. "'Cause the Eve I knew wouldn't have done something so reckless."

I frowned, my chest tightening at the vulnerability in his words. "I get it, Dean," I said firmly, holding his gaze.

"Do you?!" Dean almost shouted, his voice cracking slightly as his jaw clenched, eyes full of desperation. "Because I'm not sure you do."

"Yes," I said, a light chuckle escaping me at his repetitive questioning. "I might be different. I won't pretend I don't feel it, but I'm still... me. It's not like you could've seen the difference."

"Oh, that's—" Dean's eyes flared, his expression tight as he tilted his head. "—That's not fair." I realized then that his arm was still across the seat, near where my back was pressed against it. Even though he was pissed at me, he wasn't moving—his body still close, like he couldn't help himself.

"How is it not?" I shot back, throwing my hands up in frustration. "You show up here, throwing your weight around, and—"

"Hey!" Dean warned, his voice firm, but I didn't care.

"—turn around and lecture me like I chose this," I bit out, feeling a tight knot forming in my throat. "Like I went out of my way to lie to you, to hurt you..." I paused, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "I wouldn't do that to you, Dean."

"Then when were you gonna tell me, Eve?" Dean's voice hardened, the sharpness in it cutting deep. My heart ached at the way his words landed.

"When I had it under control," I said, my tone quieter now, but no less firm. I crossed my arms, adjusting my position to press my back against the cold, soaked window, facing him fully. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost control with Bri, Sam... Bobby... or you."

Dean clenched his jaw, staring out the windshield as the sound of rain against the glass filled the heavy silence between us.

"...How was I supposed to tell you, Dean?" I asked quietly, almost a whisper, following his gaze to the windshield. I felt his eyes shift to me, his expression unreadable. "Before we kissed? Oh, hey—by the way, I hope my fangs don't get in the way?" I mocked myself, earning a hard, frustrated glance from him.

"Eve." Dean's voice was low, warning.

"No," I waved him off, pushing through my frustration. I turned to face him fully now, my tone rising. "No, you wanna talk about honesty? When was I supposed to tell you? What about you?"

"What about me?" Dean shot back, his eyes narrowing.

"When the hell were you going to tell me about your feelings for me?" I gestured, pacing my words. "You flirt, you lead me on, you save me from Nick—save me from Damien—"

"—Damien?" Dean chuckled, pressing his forehead to the steering wheel. "That was his name? What a guy..." He shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

"If you're gonna laugh about this, I'll walk back to Bobby's," I warned, my patience thinning.

"—No." Dean's tone went flat, his laughter immediately fading as his jaw tensed.

"That's what I'm talking about right there," I snapped, pointing at him. "You pull away in Cripple Creek, you act like a damn coward in Bobby's office, and then the shit at Casper's... You can't keep doing that."

"Ugh!" Dean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stop, Eve."

"My point is, Dean, I've been honest with you since day one," I said, crossing my arms, the anger fading into exasperation. "I never asked you to save me from Nick, Damien, or the Vamp Cult..."

"I couldn't just leave you there," Dean shot back, his eyes hardening.

"Dean, it didn't matter who was stuck down there," I replied, more calmly now, my voice steady. "You wouldn't have left anyone. You care, but you care in general. That's who you are."

"I almost got killed getting you out of there, and you still don't think I care?" Dean growled, frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Yeah, you care. But it's not just me, Dean. You care about everyone." I stopped short, the words nearly slipping out. I swallowed hard, caught by the vulnerability I almost revealed. Then, as if to cover up the slip, I shifted in my seat.

Dean let out a slow breath, his tone softening, almost hesitant. "I care about you, Eve," he said, his words slow and cautious, as if testing the water.

I felt a familiar tightness in my chest, mixed with that same heat that always simmered between us.

"That's what throws me off with you," Dean sighed heavily, his eyes slipping away from mine. "I've never been thrown off by anyone or anything in my life... until you." His gaze returned, but this time, it was harder than I'd ever seen it. "You scare the hell out of me, Eve."

"I'm scared too," I found myself admitting, tilting my head slightly. I watched as his eyes followed mine, a flicker of something unreadable flashing through them. I slid a little closer, feeling the magnetic pull between us.

"Scared?" Dean's voice softened, the word almost a question. "Why would you be scared?"

"Scared of you," I whispered, leaning my head against the arm he'd stretched across the back of the seat. "Scared of losing you. Scared of having you... scared of..." My words trailed off, and my gaze dropped to his lap, the weight of the moment threatening to make my eyes swell again.

"Don't be scared of me," Dean murmured, his voice heavy with sincerity. He caught my gaze again, his eyes softening. "I don't know where the hell you came from, but I meant what I said."

I lifted my head a little, confusion and hope swirling in my chest. "Meant what?"

Dean shifted in his seat, cupping my cheek and brushing some hair from my face with his thumb. He looked at me for a long moment, his gaze fierce and vulnerable at the same time. "That... this, between us? It's something I don't want to lose." His hand left my face, sliding slowly down to rest on my thigh.

"I meant that," he added, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flickered between my eyes, my lips, and the curve of my body, and it made my heart skip. "As for you being a vamp... we'll figure it out."

"We will?" I asked, barely able to tear my eyes away from his.

"We..." He lowered his head again, his hand returning to my chin, gently guiding me to meet his gaze. "...will."

My heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes softened as they held mine. And then, he pulled me in, gently but with undeniable intent, pressing his lips softly against mine.

The world seemed to fade away as the kiss deepened slowly, tender yet filled with a longing that sent shivers down my spine. His touch was gentle, but the intensity of it only grew as he kissed me harder, smoother, the way only he could.

The rain pounding on the roof of the Impala became a distant hum, fading into nothingness as we moved in sync, our bodies and hearts matching every beat.

"Mmm..." Dean groaned, his lips parting slightly as I teased his bottom lip with a gentle bite.