tarotgal

1.

“Dad? Sniff! Sniff! Cad I hab sub bore tissues? Sniff!” Dean rubbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt back and forth under his nose.

John glanced over his shoulder, at the backseat. Little Sammy was fast asleep, slumped against one side of the Impala, his first chapter book hugged to his chest, the bookmark sticking out of it brushing against his chin. On the other side of the backseat, Dean was bundled and buried in blankets, but still looked chilly. “I just gave you some tissues. I bought you a whole pack of them. Don’t tell me you’re out already.”

But he was. The little pack Dean’s dad had picked up at a gas station convenient store had only held twenty tissues. Dean had made his way through each one of them swiftly, wiping his nose, blowing his nose, and covering his nose when he felt a sneeze coming on. “Sniff! Sorry. Sniff! Cad I have sub bore though? Blease? By dose is all stuffy. Sniff!”

John sighed, his eyes fixed on the road. “I’ll get you some the next time we stop. But I can’t keep making these detours, or we’ll never get to South Carolina. Dean, people are counting on me. It’s a matter of life or death. You know what I do. You know how important it is.”

“Sniff! Sniff! Yes, Sir.”

“Sometimes being a Winchester means manning up even when you’re sick and making do with what you have without complaining. Do you understand?”

Dean swiped his sleeve under his nose again. “Yes, Sir. Sniff! I think so. Sniff!” All the same, he wished he had some more tissues already.


2.

Jeanie was playful. Jeanie was beautiful. And, most importantly, Jeanie was there, ready and willing, in the passenger seat. Dean was just one easy slide away from first base—hell, all the bases, if she was up for that. Dean was ready to play ball.

Finding a good place to park where the already black car would be virtually invisible was important in case any cop or other meddlesome adult should happen to come down this road. But in this town, there were more dark places than light; and given the number of creatures that tended to lurk in the dark, it was also one of the reasons they’d stayed here so long.

Pushing aside thoughts of his dad and of hunting for once, Dean turned off the car and shot a knowing smile in Jeanie’s direction. She smiled back and crooked a finger at him, inviting him over. Dean Winchester didn’t have to be told twice. He slid across the seat to her side of the car and immediately put an arm around her.

She pressed himself close and then began to wiggle. He spent a few seconds trying to figure out what she might be doing until she reached into one of her sleeves and slowly pulled her brassiere out. This girl was, he decided, magical. “Cool,” he breathed out, still grinning as he swooped in and attacked her neck with kisses. He swept her hair away, trailing wet kisses up the side of her face. Then he found her mouth and a tongue instantly willing to venture into his own mouth. The sensation was so overpoweringly arousing that he wasn’t even aware of his hand sneaking up the front of her shirt until her breast was already cupped in his hand, warm and heavy and, oh god, his pants felt tight. They needed to come off right fucking now.

His free hand went for his jeans, but he found Jeanie’s hands there already, popping open the button and sliding the zipper down. With a small moan of pleasure, he planted his face in her chest, right between breasts he knew were bare beneath her thin top.

And that was when he felt it—a powerful, intense itch in his nose. He tried rubbing his face into her chest, hoping the pressure applied might be enough to get rid of the feeling. Usually he could stay tough and use his will alone to drive a sneeze back. But sometimes a man was forced to improvise. However, even pressing his nose against her wasn’t helping. If anything, the itch got worse. Dean was sure there was nothing less sexy than a guy stopping in the middle of sex to scratch at his nose, unless it was a guy stopping in the middle of sex to sneeze.

Resignedly, he pulled back and rubbed his palm up and down his nose. Next, he trialed fingernails up and down the bridge, but the itch wouldn’t go away. He cupped his hand to his nose and mouth as he took a quick, involuntary gasp in and then let out three even quicker sneezes. “hihtchi! Ihtchuh! Ihtchh!” The sneezes had been bad enough, but the sniffling sound he made just afterward was so embarrassingly loud he cringed.

Jeanie reached down and grabbed her small, shiny gold purse from the passenger side footwell. She pulled a tissue out and handed it to him.

Even more embarrassed by this, Dean wasn’t sure what to do with it. He settled for mumbling a pathetic “thanks” and wiping his nose and hand dry with it. Before he could say or do anything else, she was on him again, reaching into his open pants and stroking what she found there. Dean drew in another gasp, this time worried about a whole other kind of premature explosion. He pulled her to him, his hands on her back, beneath her top, tugging at her top. He craned his neck and grabbed hold of the slick fabric with his teeth. He started to ease her top off but suddenly felt it again. This time, the itch was even stronger. Almost immediately he felt the urge to sneeze and wasn’t sure he could stop it.

He pulled back, breath hitching, hand cupped to his face again. “ihh hihhh uhh-Hihtch! Ihtchihh! Hihtchii! Ihhtchii!” The rapid-fire sneezes didn’t seem to want to stop until he slid back to the other side of the car, where he couldn’t accidentally sneeze on her.

She took another tissue from her purse and handed it over to him. “Maybe we should stop?”

He shook his head. “D’no. I’b fide.”

Frowning, “You don’t sound fine.”

He sniffed hard and cleared his throat. “I feel fine. In fact, I feel great…” He came at her again, determined to at least get a look at her breasts. But the itch came again as well. “ihhh!” He turned his head, brow furrowed with confusion and frustration. “Ihh-HIHtchhh! Ihtchiii! Hihtchiii!”

From her purse, she handed him another tissue. Then she closed her purse with a snap. “As soon as you stop sneezing, I think you should probably take me home.”

Dean looked hurt and disappointed as he wiped his nose. “But—”

“That’s my last tissue, but I have a feeling that’s not your last sneeze.” She gathered up her bra and folded it, not wanting to meet his gaze any more.

With a sigh, he turned the keys in the ignition and drove. And sneezed. The tissues were damp and useless, balled in his hand, but he pretended they were enough. He pretended that he wasn’t spraying his hand with each sneeze. He pretended this were all perfectly normal. He tried to salvage as much of his dignity as he could. But that was hard when his nose just would not stop itching. “ihhh-HIHchhh! Hihtchh!”

When Dean pulled into the driveway of the single family home, he attempted one last move. But she got out of the car and was up the walk to the front door before he even had time for a quick peck on the cheek. It was then that the itchiness in his nose finally decided to back down. Wondering if he should go after her and somehow convince her to come back, he saw her enter her house and close the door without looking back at him. Through the part in the curtains of the front window, he saw her walk across the living room, bend down, and scoop something up into her arms. Dean narrowed his eyes, wanting to be sure he saw properly. It was a cat.

She hugged the orange, striped furball to her chest. Then she turned, smiled, and picked up a black and white tuxedo kitten. She put one on each shoulder, laughing as they pawed each other behind her head.

With a sigh, Dean reversed the car down the driveway and back onto the street. Maybe he’d move on and ask Adrienne Thompson out instead. She struck him as more of a dog person.