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Eileen drapes her arms over Dean’s shoulders, leaning in closely; as close as she could get on the bar stool. In turn, Dean places his hands on her waist to hold her steady and his boots digging onto the bar of his own stool.
They stare into each other’s eyes, brown meeting green, and they don’t have to say much. That’s just how they work.
Playfully, Eileen pops a bubble of gum in Dean’s face with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. Dean makes a face, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting out his bottom lip like he’s offended. She smiles and goes back to chewing her gum.
They sit like that for a few minutes before Dean gets curious. With his freehand, he attempts to sign “What flavor of gum are you chewing?”
It’s messy, his ASL still a work in progress and he’s using one hand, the other still firmly on her waist.
He states the question out loud too, just in case she can’t make out his signing, so she can read his lips.
“Bubblegum,” she replies, then sticking out her tongue to show the pinkness of the gum.
“Nice.” he signs back, a small triumph buzz in his stomach when Eileen quirks a smile at his accurate signing.
“Can I get a, ” he adds, pausing towards the end as he thinks of how to sign stick of gum. Eileen nods, she knows what he means because that’s just how they work.
Though rather than reach into her back pocket where Dean knows she keeps her gum, she leans forward and moves one of her arm resting on his shoulder to tap at his bottom lip.
Without giving it another thought, he opens his mouth and she presses her lips against his, transferring the gum to his mouth. It has Dean a little hot under the collar but it’s nothing to think too hard on because that’s how friendships work… he assumes.
They don’t pull apart, even though Dean now has the gum in his mouth, but their lips rest against each other sharing breaths.
Sam clears his throat and Dean pulls away, startled; he had forgotten Sam was there. Eileen notices Sam again too, shrugging at him apologetically but the smile on her face said otherwise.
Sam looks at both of them as if he swallowed a lemon, before signing “Get a room.”
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“Ah, fuck,” Dean mutters, tugging at the shirt he was wearing and pausing at the threshold of the motel doorway.
“What’s the deal now?” Sam groans, from his spot against his own motel door. They were supposed to be on the road at 9am but it was already 1pm, according to Sam's shitty Nokia.
“Well, me and Eileen mixed up shirts.” Dean clicks his tongue.
Sam took in Dean’s appearance, he was wearing his normal ensemble of heavy brown boots, dark blue jeans, and flannel but his shirt looked 2 times too small.
(Their dad’s brown leather jacket had been gone from Dean’s shoulders recently, usually found on Eileen instead.)
“What? Eileen’s in your motel room?” Sam asks, moving to peek into Dean’s room.
Dean slaps the back of his head lightly, “Not anymore obviously.” Sam rolls his eyes.
“I’ll just text her to let her know, I think that was my last clean shirt,” Dean tells Sam, pulling his own flip phone out of his back pocket.
Curiously, Sam watches as the screen flickers to life revealing a photo of Eileen, her cheeks puffy as she smiles with cotton candy in her mouth.
“hey e, think i got your shirt,” Dean texts and Eileen’s reply is almost immediate.
Sam looks away, he’s not that nosy.
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“Hey, Sammy, check out this new tattoo I got,” Dean turns around, lifting up the back of his shirt to reveal a crude tramp stamp with the name " Eileen" in the center with flames surrounding it.
“Pretty cool, right?” Dean quips, looking over his shoulder with a smile.
“Yeah, I guess, Dean,” Sam furrows his eyebrows at Dean. Him and Eileen must be pretty serious, the only other tattoo on his body is Cassie’s name over his heart.
“Eileen’s got one too,” Dean adds, happily.
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“Want anything else, sugar?” The waitress purrs, leaning close to Dean and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Dean looks up from his slice of pie to check out the waitress before grabbing his fork to dig in.
“Nope,” he says, popping his p and not bothering to look up. The waitress, clearly snubbed, walks away with a huff.
“What was that?” Sam asks, kicking at Dean's leg under the table when he doesn't reply.
“What?” Dean replies, annoyed with mouthful of pie.
“Dude, she was totally coming onto you!”
“So?” Dean swallows his bite of pie, then takes a swig of water. “Don’t really care about boning. ‘sides I gotta meet up with Eileen after this, we’re going hustling.”
Sam’s eyes bulge out of his head.
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“Hi, Sam,” Eileen greets him with a smile.
“Where’s Dean?” he signs, curiously looking around her as if Dean would appear out of thin air.
After all, they were always attached at the hip.
“Oh, he’s out back. We’re working on Baby together.” She speaks her reply as Sam’s sign language was rudimentary.
Sam nodded, taking a moment to fully take in her outfit and grease that covered it.
With her hair drawn back into a ponytail, not her usual style, Sam notices the necklace resting against her collarbone. It was a plain chain, conveniently silver, and at the end rested a ring.
No, Mary’s wedding ring.
Sam stood in Bobby’s kitchen in shock, that definitely wasn’t a gesture he’s seen Dean pull on his conquests.
He must’ve been standing there, staring at Eileen for a while because she eventually waved her hand in front of his face.
“Can I get to the fridge?” she asked, and Sam just nodded, dumbly.
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“Aw sweet, they have an internet cafe in this town!” Dean exclaims as he drives the Impala down the town's main street, taking in the shops.
“What do you need to go to an internet cafe for? Pretty sure they got porn locks on their computers,” Sam teases.
“Hardee har-har, you’re so funny.” Dean huffs, pulling into the parking lot of a vacant motel.
He turns off the engine, stepping out of the car and walks toward the motel's main office. Casually tossing his keys into the air then catching them, he turns his head to look at Sam over his shoulder.
“If you have to know, there’s this instructor I watch online. I’m learning ASL more. Can’t leave all the teaching to E.”
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“Hey, baby,” Dean calls out and mutually signs towards the direction of his car. Sam rolls his eyes, Dean was always so weird about his car, but that was a new one.
“Hey there, cowboy,” Eileen replies from where she was leaning against her red car, parked next to the Impala.
She moves over to Dean, slipping her hands under his jacket.
Oh, that was a new one.
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Sam figured things between Dean and Eileen were getting pretty serious even though Dean had no mention of his new relationship status. Dean was also the guy who said “No chick-flick moments,” so talking about his feelings was like pulling teeth.
Sam had him cornered though as Dean was nursing a beer, his first one of the night surprisingly. They had been hanging out at the Roadhouse, their go to location for their off time between hunts.
Sam knows Dean comes to the Roadhouse often, like a dog after a bone, just to see Eileen. It makes sense though, Sam thinks about it now, since they are dating.
“So, looking for someone special tonight?” Sam starts, turning to Dean.
“What?”
“You know… someone yea high,” Sam puts out his hand, trying to gesture to Eileen’s height. Dean gives Sam a look of confusion.
“Brown hair?”
“Name starts with an E?”
“Sam, are you asking me if I’m fucking Ellen?” Dean asks, bluntly causing Sam to sputter.
“No! Oh god, no! No, that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Sam backpedals, face bright red like a fire hydrant.
“I was just, well, I’m just happy for you, man.” He tells him, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder, flashing him a rueful smile.
“For fucking Ellen?”
“Jesus, Dean,” Sam removes his hand from Dean's shoulder and facepalms. “I meant Eileen, you know the girl whose name you have as a tramp stamp? Who you call baby? Who you gave mom’s ring?” he tries again.
“I’m just happy you’ve finally found someone to settle down with, you guys make a great couple.”
“Me and Eileen are dating?” Dean says, in actual bewilderment. “That stuff is just things best friends do.”
“Dean, are you fucking with me?”
“No?”
Sam groans.