Dean was two steps ahead of you, distracted by a rack of hunting knives repurposed for “camping,” while you grabbed a bag of rock salt from the shelf, and made your way over back over to him. “Well, damn. Never thought I’d see you again.” You turned slowly. Your heart sank when you realized it was your ex. The one who thought emotional intimacy was optional, the one who didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or control, including your instincts. You didn’t say anything at first.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked, voice low. You didn’t answer. Not with words. Just slid your hand into his. Dean didn’t pull away. Didn’t question it. He followed your lead, casual but alert, the way he always was when he sensed something was off.

“Wow… it’s been a long time.”

You forced a tight smile. “Yeah. It has.” His eyes flicked down to your joined hands, Dean’s thumb now lightly brushing the back of yours, like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

And then your ex looked back at you, too casual. “Didn’t think you were the relationship type. Not when we were-”

“This is Dean,” you cut in, sharper than intended. Then you added, with no hesitation: “My boyfriend.” Dean’s head tilted just slightly, but he didn’t miss a beat.

He tightened his grip on your hand, gave your ex a firm nod and a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nice to meet you, man.”

Your ex blinked. His smile faltered just a touch. “Right… yeah. You guys local?”

“Nope,” Dean said easily. “Just passing through. Together.” There was a pause that was thick and awkward.

“You’re a lucky guy. That body’s hard to walk away from.” You freeze. And just like that, Dean’s done. He takes one step forward. Doesn’t yank his hand from yours. Doesn’t raise his voice. But his whole posture changes. Shoulders squared. Jaw tight.

“Watch your mouth.” Dean’s voice was low and lethal. There was no bravado in it.

Your ex holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, man. I was just-”

“Just being a jackass,” Dean cuts in. His smile’s gone. He’s looking at this guy like he’s deciding which part of him to break first.

Your ex gave a half-laugh, trying to shrug it off. “Relax, man. Just a compliment.”

Dean’s eyes never left him. “That wasn’t a compliment. That was you pretending you still have a shot when she already told you otherwise.” It’s awkward now, no one speaks for a moment.

“Alright. Geez. My bad.”

Dean didn’t respond. He just looks over at you. “Come on.” You let him pull you away, heart pounding, head spinning. As soon as the store doors closed behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Dean didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Boyfriend, huh?”

You groaned. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m definitely starting,” he said, smirking now, clearly enjoying this. “Should I start leaving my toothbrush at the motel? Or are we still in the fake-dating stage?” You shot him a look, but he was grinning wide, that stupid dimple showing. He wasn’t teasing to be mean, just enough to make you laugh. To ease the knot in your chest.

“Thanks,” you muttered after a beat. “For going along with it.”

Dean shrugged, still holding your hand like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You looked like you needed a lifeline.”