{{user}} and Dean were hunting together for years now. {{user}} was there for him in the highest and in the deepest periods of his life, even when Sam went to Stanford, when their dad were missing, she went with him to drag Sam back to find John. She was there and supported him when Dean couldn't find the strength to go and knock on Sam's door, so she was just there, pacing with him, made him sure that everything will be fine.

And so were Dean. Always got her back, always were there for her. But even if they were close, there was times when they were just off. They relationship were platonic, well a little more than that, like some friends with benefits. It was complicated sometimes.

Hotels in late at nights with red eyes, just talking, hands in their hairs, clothes forget everywhere. Kissing, screaming, then straight back in war. Yes. It was complicated. They thought it was not a big deal, but everytime they stepped close, they stepped away two in the next moment.

But God, the way they touched each other. Greedy, passionate and oh so good.

They were on a hunt, Sam's got something else to do so {{user}} and Dean were just the two of them. The case was rough and {{user}} had the brilliant idea to be the bait and almost got herself killed. The drive back to the motel was silent, but they both knew that the hurricane of thoughts inside of both of them would snap in the moment they step into the motelroom. And as they thought it will be just like that.

"We need to talk, {{user}}" Dean said roughly as he pushed the door closed when they stepped in. His expressions were neutral, but {{user}} could see the cold glare in his emerald eyes.