The first guy that you invited over was meant to be some sort of proof that you could find yourself a man whenever you wanted to. After you heard Dean speaking on the phone with Benny about sleeping with you to get you more docile, you felt the need to establish that you felt nothing for him, and that you would never sleep with him. Thus, two days after, you found yourself a nice man to take home. You were due to have fun, anyway. However, you didn't mean your decision to trigger a sex war because later that week, he brought over a girl. It's safe to say you didn't sleep that night. You were pretty sure that you weren't as loud with the guy as he was with his fling, but he seemed to take it as some sort of challenge against his masculinity. That's how, ever since then, there's been a constant sex battle in your house. He would bring someone over, be obnoxiously loud, rub it in your face, and then kick her out. Then, two days after, you would do the same. It has become a never-ending cycle. Never before in your life have you had as many different sexual partners as right now. You've even started to question how healthy it is, not only because of the danger of sleeping with anyone, but also because of the power Dean has over you to make you continue the twisted game.

Right now it's your turn of the week to have sex because, oddly enough, you never bring your partners at the same time. The guy, whose name you think it's Mark or Paul, is sitting on your couch waiting for you to hand him the beer you promised. Dean has yet to arrive home. He's running later than usual. Normally, if he were here, you would've already taken Mark or Paul into your bathroom. What are you waiting for? You don't know.

The guy talks animatedly as he recounts a story. "So, I said to him, you don't get to choose Tyler over me, you know what I mean?"

You don't, you've barely paid attention to what he has said, you nod anyway, pretending to be interested. Your acting must be very good because he dives back into the subject with a long explanation about him and Tyler. You really have no idea what he's talking about, all you care about is the sex part, and he clearly can't catch a hint, or he really likes the sound of his voice. You give him the beer and sit on the couch with him, he takes it from you but doesn't drink it. Maybe if he had something in his mouth, he would just shut up already.

He's pretty, but your mind keeps circling around your previous one-night-stands. His hair is long and soft but maybe too greasy, his nails are colored dark though you can see that he bites his cuticle often. Even right now, his hand flies to his mouth before he can stop himself. Then he pulls it away, as if remembering he's not supposed to do that. Was this a good pick? You should've gone with the guy with the tattoos. He had a nice sharp jaw like Dean... wait, you're not supposed to think that.

The door opening and closing cuts and the man abruptly. He looks up as heavy steps approach the living room. You don't have to check to know that is Dean, but you do so anyway. There's a surprised expression on your roommate's face. Either he wasn't expecting you to have company, or he thought you'd already be in your bedroom. Though, the shock quickly turns into irritation.

"Oh!" Mark/Paul exclaims, standing up. "She didn't tell me she had a boyfriend, I'm sorry, man."

And you're not sure what annoys you the most, is it the fact that he thinks you are Dean's girlfriend? Or that he's directing the sentence towards him instead of you? Plus, does he really think you would bring him over if you were with someone?

"I'm not his-"

"She's not my-"

"-girlfriend." You both finish at the same time, and now it's your turn to be irritated.

"Ah," Mark/Paul looks between the two of you, confused. "Alright, well, nice to meet you man, I'm Peter." Ah well, it's pretty similar to one of your guesses, it starts with a P.

"Dean." Despite Peter's attempt to lighten the mood, he's not having it.

You take a large sip from your beer bottle, eyes darting between the both of them. Peter is a lot smaller than Dean, and your roommate is giving him an intimidating once over. You think that maybe Dean is pissed about whatever happened at work, or he just knows that he won't be able to sleep a lot tonight. Either way, it's fun to see Peter squirming under Dean's gaze.

"Alright," you stand up as you finish your beer in one go. "Let's go upstairs, Peter."

The man's face lightens up immediately after hearing your words. Without hesitation, he follows you through the living room to go towards the stairs. Before you lose sight of Dean, you take one last peek at him. He's looking back at you, he has a melancholic face that you've never seen before. It throws you off momentarily.

"Who's that guy?" Peter's question forces you to tear your eyes from Dean's.

"No one," you answer, loud enough for your roommate to hear. You continue up the stairs.

As soon as you close the door, Peter pins you into the wall to start kissing your neck. It's such a contrast to how talkative he was being downstairs, so it takes you a moment to reciprocate. When you come to your senses, you take his face in your hands and kiss him on the mouth. There's nothing sweet about the way your lips crash, and your hand pulls at each other's clothes. His right hand rests on your breast, forcefully caressing over the fabric. It doesn't feel as hot as you thought it would. Sure, your panties are getting wetter by the way his tongue strokes yours, but there's something lingering in the back of your mind that doesn't allow you to concentrate on the exchange. You keep going back to Dean's expression.

Your brain tries to find an explanation for Dean being so sad. Did he receive bad news from work? And then it hits you, is it maybe because of Peter? For the time this game has been going on between the two of you, you've never met a single one of his flings, nor he has met yours. The counters have always been behind closed doors. You've heard what they do, when they arrive and when they leave, but you've never been face to face with the women he brings home. Is it maybe that seeing Peter made the fight real? For some reason, you feel like you've crossed a line when you let Peter meet Dean.

"You're so gorgeous, yes, baby." Peter's grunt, instead of bringing you back to reality, takes you further away.

Your mind supplies the time when you masturbated to Dean's moans, one of the firsts times he brought a girl. That night, the woman had been unusually quiet during the whole encounter. Dean's grunts and sighs were all that could be heard from the shared wall. The sounds were so sinful, they made you horny in an instant. You'll never admit it out loud, but you touched yourself while hearing your roommate have sex. You tried to keep your whine soft when you came, though you're not sure if he heard you. Has he done the same when you sleep with other guys? No! No! You refuse to give Dean Winchester what he wants, you refuse to be after his dirty, womanizer self. And yet... you don't want to continue doing this, has the war gone too far? You're not even into this Peter guy anymore.

"Wait, wait" you murmur on his lips. He doesn't listen to you at first because he keeps kissing you. "Hey! I said wait." With an annoyed sigh, he steps back. His brows are furrowed.

"What?"

"I- I think you should go."

He stays frozen in place as if he can't believe your petition. "What?!"

"Listen, I'm sorry for bringing you here, but I'm really not in the mood right now."

He snickers, "well, you were back at the bar."

You walk to the door and open it. "Yeah, well, I'm not anymore. So please go."

He examines you up and down with a scornful gaze. "Whatever, bitch, you're not that hot anyway. Just like that fucking Anastasia. Fucking bitches."

He marches through the door and down the stairs. Seconds after, you hear the front door slamming shut. Fucking prick.

You're so not in the mood right now for anything else, so you decide to go to sleep. In a robotic-like state, you change into your PJ and cover yourself with the bedsheet. Minutes turn into hours. Tick, tock, tick, tock. You can't sleep, is it maybe because you didn't have dinner? You doubt it. This whole thing has to do with Dean freaking Winchester, you can't get it out of your mind. His face, Peter's outburst, the fucking game-war. Since when did your home become an unsafe place? When you lived with Meg, life was so much easier, now you cannot say the same. Maybe just you should just stop it. You're going to live with Dean for a while, and you shouldn't make things more complicated.

Five minutes later, you wander down to the kitchen for a glass of water. There, your plans get hindered by a shadow sitting on the table. You try to ignore Dean's presence as you do as intended. You sit beside him in silence.

"This is fucked up," he expresses.

You know what he's talking about: the same thing that won't let you sleep tonight. The stupid sex war.

"Yeah."

More silence.

"Truce?" Dean's voice is low, for a moment, you almost think you've imagined it.

You're tired of this fight, of whatever made him tell Benny he'd sleep with you, you're tired of him too, but sadly you're stuck with this living arrangement at least for a while. The least you can do it's provide a non-hostile environment, at least sexually.

"Yeah."