Chapter Six - Picture Her Face
Dean rubbed the knot out of the back of his neck as Buffy continued to chuckle hysterically. He padded down the hallway and descended the stairs, collapsing on the couch. Sam was about to crawl onto the couch, dressed with a blanket and pillow, when he saw the look on his brother’s face.
“What was going on up there? I’ve never heard Buffy laugh so hard before.”
Dean scowled, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He quickly yanked off his shoes and unfolded the blanket and pillow on the couch opposite Sam.
Sam cocked an eyebrow, “Did she reject you or something?”
Dean’s eyes widened in horror, “What? Hell no! I wouldn’t touch that with a hundred foot pole even if you sterilized it a million times.”
“Oh-kay,” Sam replied, pulling his shirt off. He snatched his toiletry bag and headed up the stairs to the guest bathroom.
Ten minutes had passed since Sammy went to brush his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. Dean tensed, focusing his hearing on the movements upstairs. It was pretty quiet. Dean relaxed, sighing in relief. He turned on his side a couple of times before settling onto his back. He felt his stomach turn as he glanced at the clock. Where the hell was Sammy? It didn’t take him that long to retire to bed.
“Oh hell,” Dean grumbled, throwing the blanket off of himself and standing up.
He hiked up the stairs and ambled down the hallway. He expected to hear the shrill sound of giggles again but was met with silence.
“Hmph,” he said.
Dean looked into the guest bathroom to his right and found it empty. Okay, where the hell was Sammy? Dean concentrated on a particular sound that had drifted from her bedroom, a very familiar sound, a sound he was not comfortable hearing, a sound which normally would have stimulated his body into a carnal frenzy, but was now stiffening with trepidation.
“Aw crap, Sammy, you better not be in there.”
Dean stamped back the lump of bile threatening to erupt from his throat as he slowly walked down the hall. He paused at the entrance of the bedroom and steeled himself for what his eyes were about to see.
“Oh Christ Sammy, what do you think you’re doing?”
Sam jerked forward from under the bed sheet. His brown hair flopped over his bright red face.
“I was just – trying to sleep.”
“Get your ass downstairs.” Dean barked.
Sam stumbled out of bed as Dean looked away, “Jesus Sammy, I’m gonna need years of therapy to get that image burned away.”
“Huh?” Sam said, looking down at himself, “Oh, um.”
Sam ripped a pillow off of Buffy’s bed and used it to shield the front of his boxers. Dean groaned at the snickers coming from under the comforter. Sam abruptly disappeared from the room.
“Show yourself Summers.”
Buffy pulled the covers from her head, her face plastered with a smile. She flashed a wide eyed expression.
“Will you quit trying to molest my brother?”
“Aw come on. Sam’s a good guy, not to mention cute and wicked smart. I thought you’d be all for me hooking up with him.”
“I’ve heard of boy crazy but this is ridiculous.”
“Oh what’s the big deal Dean? It’s just sex.”
Dean slapped his hands over his ears, “I’m not hearing this. And not against my brother’s will.”
“It wasn’t against his will. Sam was – showing me his interest.”
Dean squeezed his hands tighter over his ears, “We’re leaving as sun as the sun comes up. I better not find you snuggling up to Sammy in the morning.”
Dean whipped around and quickly retreated to the living room. Sam turned under the covers, his face having finally returned to its normal shade.
“Jesus Sammy, what were you thinking?”
“You were my age once, what would you have been thinking?”
“Are you kidding me? After everything you know about her, you want to jump into bed with that?”
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed with resentment, “Shut up Dean. Buffy is a great girl.”
Dean scratched his head, “Uh, great isn’t exactly the verb I’d use to describe her.”
“Why do you always have to treat her like she’s a dumb slut? She hasn’t done anything to earn that kind of reputation.”
Dean blinked in disbelief, “Hello? Found girl in closet kissing you, found girl in closet kissing some guy, found girl in bed trying to get busy with you. See how this is progressing? If it’s not her reputation now, check back in three years.”
Sam glared at his older brother, “God Dean, you’re such a hypocrite. If this were any other girl, you’d be maxing out your charm card to get in her pants. I figured you’d be throwing me at Buffy to – as you would say, make me a man…unless…”
Sam studied his brother.
“You like her – maybe even love her.”
Dean felt his jaw hit the floor, “What in the hell are you talking about? Are you looking to get your ass kicked right now? “
“Hmm, interesting,” Sam replied, smiling.
Dean clenched his fists, “What’s so interesting? How I’m gonna make you eat your ass?”
Sam chuckled softly, “I get it now Dean.” Sam burrowed into the blanket and turned around, his back facing his scowling brother.
“Get what bitch? Cut the Freudian bullcrap before you’re eating through a tube.”
Sam chuckled again, “Good night Dean. Sweet dreams.”
“Sammy.” Dean growled.
Sam responded by snoring loudly.
“Damn you Sammy.” Dean muttered.
Dean tossed and turned on the couch, wide awake in the middle of the night. He cursed his smart ass brother under his breath. What the hell did he mean by “you like her – maybe even love her” and all that shit? Dean flipped onto his side, then onto his back, then onto his side again. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling where above him, a certain annoying teenage blonde girl had probably laughed herself to sleep.
He muttered a sequence of curse words as he forced his eyes shut. He conjured images in his head of a girl he met at a sorority house party two weeks ago. He focused on that fuzzy pink sweater that carved out her ample breasts; let his eyes drift down to the white leather mini-skirt that flaunted her long, tan legs, allowed the arousal to spark in his loins.
He sighed, feeling his body release the tension as his mind delved further into his fantasy. As he looked her over again, he let out a breath, remembering how he had taken her back to her dorm room.
He heard his heart beat quicken as various flashes assaulted his mind, her soft, supple lips opening to let out a moan, her smooth legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to drive himself deeper, her hair falling around her face…oh hell, what color was it?...her body caked with perspiration…her eyes sparkling with desire.
“Yeah,” he groaned softly. Where was I? Those eyes, something about those eyes excited him…why? He tried to focus on her body again but his mind kept fixating on her eyes…they flourished with heat and longing for him.
“Oh god Dean…” she moaned.
Suddenly, his mind raced over her hair – long and golden, swept over those eyes – green and gorgeous and then lowered to her face – the face of a young blonde girl chewing gum.
Dean pried his eyes open, “Christ!”
He darted his head over to Sammy who was sound asleep. Dean sat up against the couch and felt his lower body stiff as a rock.
“Shit,” he muttered. He hastily threw the covers off of himself and got to his feet.
Sam stirred during the rustling and asked over his shoulder, “Where you going?”
“To go wash the crap out of my mind. Go back to sleep.”
Sam didn’t answer as Dean crept up the stairs, muttering every combination of curse words he could think of.