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“Two rooms, please,” Sam said to the clerk, catching your eye. You smiled at him, winking before you headed back out to the car. You’d just gotten your bag from the trunk when Sam came back out, handing Dean his key.
“See ya in the morning, Dean,” Sam said simply, grabbing his bag from you and leading you to the motel room the two of you would be sharing. You both missed the confusion and disappointment on Dean’s face as he watched you disappear behind closed doors.
“Do you really think it’s working?” you asked Sam as you threw your bag onto the bed closer to the bathroom, knowing Sam would want the one by the door. Sam collapsed on his bed, sighing.
“It’s working, Y/N,” he insisted. “He just hasn’t wrapped his head around it yet.”
You sat on your bed, facing Sam. “It’s been nearly three months, Sam. First the subtle hints, then the obvious ones like getting our own room. He hasn’t said a single thing about it.”
Sam’s long arm flopped toward you, palm up. You put your hand in his, accepting the squeeze. “Y/N, Dean loves you. The jealousy is boiling up inside of him, I just know it.”
You didn’t reply, not knowing if Sam knew his brother as well as he thought he did. Sam sat up, taking both of your hands now in his.
“Tell you what,” he said, getting your attention again. “Let’s go for one more week. If he doesn’t do anything by then, we’ll stop. Have a fake break-up or something.”
You sighed.
“Sound good?” Sam asked, leaning his head down to meet your line of vision. You gave him a half-smile.
“Yeah, sounds good, Sammy.”
He squeezed your hands one last time before letting go. “Dibs on first shower,” he said before disappearing behind the door. He knew you liked first shower, he obviously just wanted to tease you for worrying too much. You rolled your eyes, choosing to spend the time that Sam was in the bathroom just staring at the ceiling above your bed, thoughts of a green-eyed hunter floating around in your head.
The bar was packed, but the three of you didn’t care. You were celebrating yet another successful hunt, one with no injuries to yourselves past a scratch or two. When there were no stitches involved, it mandated a celebratory drinking night.
Four beers in and Sam was yawning, though. “I think I’m headed back, guys,” he said, looking pointedly in your direction. You read that look as You better be staying here with Dean.
“Sammy, who knew you’d become a lightweight in your old age?” Dean teased, laughing at his own joke.
“Yeah, well if I’m old, what does that make you?” Sam sassed right back as he stood. “See y’all in the morning.”
Dean gave Sam a half wave when he walked toward the door before looking back at you. “You not heading back with him?” he asked, something that sounded like resentment in his voice. Maybe Sam was right.
“Nah. He’s a big boy, he can tuck himself in,” you said, smiling. “Me? I want another round.”
You motioned for the waitress to bring you and Dean two more beers before looking at him. “Care for a game?” you continued, looking toward the empty pool table.
“Oh, you’re on, sweetheart,” Dean replied, following you eagerly. In just a few minutes, the two of you had broken a game, eyeing the table for the best moves.
When Dean sunk three balls in a row, you knew you’d have to up your game. As seductively as you could, you lined up your shot – and by association, your ass – right in front of where Dean was standing. You settled into your position slowly, making sure Dean was getting quite the show, before sinking your first ball.
You gave yourself a little victory, biting your lip and grinning at Dean. You couldn’t help but notice that his eyes had darkened a bit, and you hoped your plan was working.
You seductively continued to sink your stripes until all that was left was the 8-ball, pouting obnoxiously at Dean. “Too bad little Dean-o can’t beat a girl at pool,” you said teasingly to him before you lined up your last shot. You had just pulled the stick back to hit the ball when Dean’s hands were on your hips, making your shot go sideways.
“Dean!” you said, turning around ready for a confrontation. Before you could say anything else, though, Dean’s lips were on yours. You sank into the kiss, something that you’d wanted for longer than you could remember.
When your tongue asked for entrance to his mouth, though, Dean sprang back like he’d been burned. “Y/N! I’m so sorry,” he said, his hand going to his neck and messing up the hair it found on the way. “That was completely out of line, I’m so sorry.”
You smiled, walking slowly up to Dean where he was freaking out. “Dean,” you said, voice quiet and calm. Your hands wound themselves around his neck, forcing him to look at you. “It’s alright.”
Dean’s face looked like you’d just slapped him. “What the hell? No, it’s not! I just kissed my brother’s girl, that’s definitely not alright!”
You laughed, but Dean pulled away from your grip. “Dean!” you said louder, getting his attention. He turned to look at you, confusion in his eyes. “I’m not your brother’s girl, it was all fake!”
Dean stared at you for a minute, his mind obviously trying to compute what you’d just said. “Fake?” he finally repeated, grabbing his beer and finishing it in one pull to gather his thoughts. “What do you mean?”
You sighed, slipping onto a barstool. “I mean, Sam has been pretending to be my boyfriend, because we thought it was the best way for you to realize your feelings for me.”
Dean’s eyes flashed at the fact that he’d been manipulated, but then your hand took his and entwined your fingers together. “Don’t blame him, though. We were about to stop, since nothing had come of any of it…”
Silence fell for a few moments, save for the music in the bar and the talking of the other customers. Finally Dean spoke again, quieter this time. “It was all fake? The flirting, the sharing rooms, the cutesy-coupley things?”
You nodded, smiling. Dean surged forward then and kissed you, more confidently this time than the last.
When the kiss ended, he pulled back, one more question on his mind. “But what if I just wanted you because I knew I couldn’t have you?”
You stood, taking a step toward the door and motioning towards it with your thumb. “I mean, I could just go back to Sammy’s room for the night, if that would help?”
Dean grabbed your hand, pulling you back toward him. He grinned. “Not necessary, Y/N. I’m never letting you go.”
You smiled into the kiss, grateful for Sam and thankful that his plan had finally paid off.