Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces

They had both envisioned this night – what it would be like, how it would feel, but they never imagined this, Allie in particular. She never pictured her first time with Dean in the back seat of the Impala, but in hindsight, she knew that it wouldn’t have been the same anywhere else. It may have only been a car, but it held many memories for both of them.

Allie tossed her heels onto the floorboard and shed Dean’s button-up from his shoulders, tearing hungrily at his undershirt. She wanted him – all of him. Their lips moved in unison, their tongues waging war. They were so engulfed in one another that they’d almost forgotten to breathe. Dean pulled Allie onto his lap, embracing her thighs as he gently coaxed the hem of her dress up to her hips. She followed his lead, raising her arms above her head so that he could rid her body of the material.

His eyes, immediately, focused on her bare breasts. She was beautiful, but to him, she was much more than that: she was flawless, the epitome of perfection. Dean shifted Allie onto her back, forcing himself between her legs. His lips were on hers again, then on her neck and her collarbone as she worked tediously to unclasp his belt and unzip his jeans. Once free, Dean supported himself with one hand and used the other to help Allie slide his jeans off of his hips and onto the floor.

The windows of the Impala donned a thin sheet of fog reminiscent of Dean and Allie’s exchange of body heat and the spike in the internal temperature. The archaic radio belted Queen’s Who Wants to Live Forever, barely muffling Allie’s moans and Dean’s grunts. The electricity coursing through their veins, the chemistry between them was like nothing either of them had ever felt, because for the first time in both of their lives, they weren’t just having sex. They were making love.

Allie gripped onto tufts of Dean’s hair as he buried his face between her breasts, softly kissing and nibbling on her delicate skin. She whimpered, her breath catching in her lungs as he gently massaged her through the thin silk of her panties. His erection was prominent against her thigh, their swelling ache for each other finally peaking.

Both completely naked and exposed, Dean settled back on his knees and lifted Allie onto his lap. Allie stared into Dean’s eyes as she gripped onto his shoulders for support, leaning down to connect their lips just before Dean lowered her onto him.

She gasped at the contact as her body was catapulted into momentary shock, adjusting to his girth. Dean groaned in response, clutching onto her hips and her back for leverage as he created a smooth and steady rhythm between their bodies. Allie was lost in absolute bliss, her nails sinking into Dean’s back and the forearm that he utilized to syncopate the movement of her hips with his.

Laying Allie on her back again, Dean increased his pace. He was fully aware of what he was doing to her, expressing his love for her physically rather than linguistically. He softly brushed his lips against hers, masking her cries of pleasure, but he loved the way she moaned his name. “Say it again,” he breathed as he pounded into her, clenching onto her hips. His name echoed inside the cab once more, followed by a shrill cry. She was begging for a release, but he wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet.

Dean basked in the feeling of being inside of her, of knowing her in a way that no one else did. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of – she was everything he’d ever dreamed of. But Allie couldn’t take it anymore. As much as her heart and soul pleaded to never part from Dean again, her body screamed for an end.

She buried her nails into Dean’s flesh, feeling the rush of his blood beneath her fingertips. She fought the desire, the unbearable urge to let go, because she knew that he, too, was close. She could feel him throbbing inside of her, conscious of his erratic thrusts.

Allie relaxed beneath the comfort of Dean’s lips in those last moments. Every muscle in her body took on a gentle warmth and a familiar tingle, originating from her toes and spreading to every corner and curve of her being. As he began to lose control, Dean’s breath faltered against her lips. He rested his forehead on her chest, gripping the seat with one hand and Allie’s hip with the other as he delivered his final thrusts.

Dean’s release seemed to be a cue for Allie’s as her every muscle tightened around him and tensed in pure pleasure. Her back arched, her chest flush with his, her fingers wound in his hair as her head fell back. It was like nothing she’d ever felt; it was truly magical.

The final wave of pleasure washed over Allie, and she sighed contentedly, gasping for air as Dean – deprived of oxygen, as well – rested his head on her chest. Once they’d regained their composure, Dean switched positions with Allie and covered their bodies with an emergency blanket that he kept beneath the seat.

Allie smiled, listening as Dean’s heartbeat slowed to an average pace. She softly traced the tattoo just beneath his clavicle on his chest, Dean’s rough hand aimlessly stroking her arm. He rested his chin atop her head and stared through the rear windshield at the moon and the stars, licking his lips as he recounted the night’s recent events.

“Dean,” Allie began as she placed a couple of butterfly kisses on his chest before looking at him.

“Hmm?” he sounded, a mere rumble in his chest.

“Thank you,” she said.

He smiled, stroking her shoulder with his thumb as he stared at her. “For what?”

“Everything.” She leaned forward and pecked his lips a few times.

Pulling away, Dean brushed her hair aside and added, “I think I’m the one that should be thanking you. Not every man gets the privilege of loving – much less, knowing – a woman like you.”

Allie smiled again. “Don’t make me cry,” she requested.

“I’ll try not to,” Dean replied with a chuckle, “but I can’t make any promises.”

“It’s okay,” she responded. “I don’t need promises. Just you.”

A love like Dean and Allie’s wasn’t common amongst hunters. Truthfully, it couldn’t even be considered common amidst average people, because only when one bears witness to the near death of someone he or she loves so deeply, only when two individuals shed blood for each other and offer everything they have for the lives of one another can a love like Dean and Allie’s be defined.

They understood that the bond they shared was far stronger than any binding contract or ceremony. It was physical, spiritual, mental, emotional – it was everything, and despite all of the death and destruction that they’d suffered together, they managed to find an effervescent beauty in it all.