Getting ready for the date with Dean proves to be more challenging than you thought. You want to look good, but not like you're trying too hard. Plus, considering that Dean has seen you in your pajamas, you really have no idea what to wear.

Because you invited him, it's up to you to decide the place you're going. At first, you thought to take him to the movies or to have dinner, but that's basically what you would do on a normal day after work. So, no, you had to be more creative this time. That's why, after pondering, you chose to go someplace probably unusual: a car exhibit. It was just in your luck that they are having one a few towns over. That being said, even if he's going to spend more time looking at the cars than at you, you want to look nice. In the end, you decide on your favorite jeans, a tight turtle-neck blouse, and boots. You're just finishing your make-up and hair when there's a knock on your bedroom door.

"Are you ready?" Dean's voice travels from the other side.

You pick up your purse and open the door. Dean's eyes roam your body appreciably, and you take your sweet time to do the same. Just like you, he didn't go over the top with his appearance. He's wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, as anticipated, but they're the good ones. The shirt hugs his chest in the right places, and the burgundy color is a nice contrast to his skin and green eyes. A slight blush covers your cheeks once his gaze clashes back with yours. He has noticed you checking him out because he smiles mischievously.

"You look hot." Dean's compliment is blunt, though you expected that from him.

Trying not to boost his ego, you reply: "Thanks, you look fine."

Dean's grin only grows wider, he knows you're downplaying your compliment. Though, he decides not to mention it. "Ready to go?"

You take his arm and guide him downstairs. Throughout the whole trip, Dean tries to pry on the destination of the date, but you refuse to spill anything. For some reason, you want it to be a surprise. Even when he's the one driving, you only comment vague directions on where to go. Sometimes, he turns his face to you, annoyed, yet there's a lingering smile on his lips that makes it clear he's pretending. In previous months, you never would've thought you'd be like this with him. All of your bickering before had been legit, you truly hated each other... or so you thought.

When you enter the road where the exhibit is supposed to be held, you start seeing cool cars here and there, probably from the people attending that thought it'd be a good idea to bring their own. Dean looks at a blue new Camaro with furrowed brows.

"Wait- did," a 70's Plymouth Barracuda turns into the corner of the parking lot. Dean instantly snaps his eyes at you. "Did you just bring me to the car exhibit?"

The way he says the car exhibit makes you realize that he probably already knew about it. "Yes... did you come already? It's been only for two days..."

"No, no," he shakes his head and continues driving to the parking lot. "I wanted to come, I just wasn't sure when..." He chuckles, "this is certainly a nice surprise, sweetheart." His right hand takes yours in his and doesn't let go until you get out of the Impala.

The exhibit center is more crowded than you anticipated, maybe because it's a weekend. Either way, Dean pays no mind to it, he is too excited to see the cars. When you climbed out of the Impala, a few people were all too eager to praise Dean on the car. Of course, he was more than willing to receive the words. It's no secret that Dean prides himself on taking care of his Baby, and you enjoy listening to him talk about it. Not because of what he says, but because of the smile that lights up his face in the most precious way. Well, fuck, you're in too deep.

The ticket office has a long line at the front, luckily for you, you bought the tickets beforehand online, so you don't need to worry about it. As it turns out, the exhibit is about cars in general. They have information ranging from the first motored vehicles to the last ones, some of which even use electrical or alternative fuel. Dean, of course, is more interested in the part of the exhibition that is about classical cars from the 50's to the 80's. And the muscle cars are certainly his downfall. Every piece has a small presentation card with facts; most of it is too technical for you to understand, like types of motors and tires, but you do your best to read it while Dean briefs you on what he knows. Unsurprisingly, Dean's wisdom is greater than those in the cards. He could very well give a tour if he wanted to. A few times you catch other people listening to what he has to say about the models. Not that he notices because all of his focus is on you... and the cars, of course.

Halfway through it, you go to the coffee shop inside the building. It's a bit cramped, but you manage to secure a place near the back. Dean's still beaming when he places an iced smoothie in front of you.

"Did you see the awesome 1970's Dodge Charger by the end of the last room?" You saw a lot of cars, but you can hardly remember which is which. Dean must notice your hesitancy because he pulls out his phone and shows you the picture he took. "This one. The owner was there by chance, and told me to..." It amuses you how much he can talk non-stop about motors and other things you don't really understand that well. Not that you mind. As if reading your thoughts, he stops. "I'm sorry, I'm boring you, am I not?"

The sad look on his face makes your heart shatter a little. "What? No, not at all."

Dean seems doubtful, "are you sure? Girls..." He clears his throat. "Girls don't really like it when I talk about cars."

The first thought that comes to your head is who the fuck told this precious man he can't talk about cars? "Don't worry." You place a hand on his, atop the table. "I love when you talk about them."

You expected he would smile, instead, the stare he gives you has your heart stopping and a warm sensation spreading through your body. It's like he's looking at you for the first time, and the affection leaking from the confines of his soul wraps around you in comfort.

The rest of the date goes much more intimate. He keeps telling you fun facts about the models and tries to make you understand as much as he can about his passion. Dean also can't seem to keep his hands to himself. He either hugs you, or grazes your back, hand, or leg. You've never been too much PDA person, and yet you bask in the warmth of his affection. When it's time to go home, you almost don't want to. It's not because you'd like to keep watching cars, it's just that you don't desire this moment to end. You fear that maybe once you get home, everything that makes the date special will disappear. It's kind of a dumb notion, yet it keeps popping in your brain until you reach the parking lot.

"Do you want to drive the Impala back home?" Dean's question surprises you. Although he let you drive Baby before when you went to your grandmother's funeral, he did it because he was too tired to continue. He didn't really like the idea then. Now he's willingly letting you drive it.

You think about asking if he's for real, but maybe that will make him back down, so you simply say: "sure."

The first time you drove the Impala, you didn't really have time to enjoy the car or really experience the differences between Baby and your vehicle. No, you were too preoccupied in your mourning to try to notice anything. Now there's almost nothing that can distract you from the smooth feeling of the steering wheel or the nice leather couch under your thighs. In the passenger seat, Dean doesn't try to tell you how to drive or treat the car. For the first minutes of the travel, he simply enjoys a new perspective of the Impala. Then, he starts telling you stories of his childhood with it.

John Winchester bought Baby when he married Mary, Dean's mother. From then on, it was basically the car that took him everywhere and anywhere until, eventually, his father gave it to him once he was old enough. He tells you a little bit about the composition of the Chevrolet, but also of those weird details no other model has; like the toy stuck somewhere in the backseat.

Too soon for your liking, you park in the entryway. The silence stretches for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Under normal circumstances, this would be the time when you kiss and say goodbye, but you live in the same house, so that's probably not the right thing to do. Dean climbs out of the Impala, and you do the same, he rounds the car and closes the diver's door with one hand while the other holds yours. You follow him up the steps and into the house, once inside, Dean turns to you with a smirk.

He looks towards the stairs, "let me accompany you to your bedroom door." It's more of a demand than a question, yet you nod.

Dean doesn't let go until you reach your destination. There, he looks softly into your eyes. One of his hands caresses your cheek tenderly, and then, almost timidly, he places his lips on yours. The contact is barely there, nothing you would expect from Dean. He parts from you too fast for your liking, so you chase his mouth until your lips collide again. This time the encounter is longer and fiercer. Your mouths morph perfectly in a dance that makes your knees quiver. You never would've guessed you would be like this with Dean Winchester; your previously proclaimed nemesis. All those years ago, you remember him being a pain in your ass, constantly flirting with you or making you lose your head with his attitude. You wonder if the mutual attraction has always been there, and you were too stubborn to recognize it. This second time, you are the one who steps away in order to breathe.

Dean has a gentle smile on his face. "Well, are you going to invite me in?" His cheeky tone has you rolling your eyes in annoyance. He's still the same Dean Winchester you know, all right. Even still, for the third kiss of the night, you push him towards the closed door until his back crashes with it. This time, your tongue and his battle for dominance. Your hand on his chest takes its time exploring the muscles over the shirt. And when it reaches the bottom of it, you're already lifting it up to throw it away somewhere in the hallway. You're not the only one who's eager, Dean doesn't take much time getting you naked from the waist up. His touch is as addictive as you would have imagined. In the back of your mind, you briefly remember when you masturbated to his sinful moans. You turn the doorknob behind him, he almost stumbles when you open the door to your bedroom.

"Are you sure?" He murmurs while you kiss his neck, you're hoping to leave a mark. The response you give him is when you push him into the room. You've never been more sure of anything in your life.

Casual encounters of the Dean kind (Patreon exclusive)

A glimpse into the past.

Are you interested in knowing Dean's perspective when he met you? Go to the external link for a Patreon-exclusive chapter.