Title: Five Times Dean Knew He was Totally In Love With Chloe
Category: Smallville/Supernatural (Crossover)
Rating: NC17
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Chloe/Dean
Word Count: 2,500
Series: Five Times Chlean (5 Times Chloe Knew Dean Was In Love With Her, 5 Reasons Sam Knows Chloe Is Perfect For Dean, 5 Times Lois Knew Dean Was IT For Chloe)
Summary: Much as he wants to deny it, even Dean has to face facts, and there were five times he just couldn't pretend he wasn't totally in love with Chloe Sullivan.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III,

IV.

It'd been a week and a half since he talked to Lois and got the go-ahead and now... now was the pinnacle of that conversation.

It physically hurt to take the keys from the grinning salesman in front of him. Instead of climbing back into his prized baby, he left his Impala in the rusted rearview mirror of the sturdy but far-less-eye catching car he'd just picked up. The seat was uncomfortable; it didn't mold to him like his Impala. The drab brown upholstery wasn't like his girl's leather. But he grit his teeth and continued driving with one more stop before he left back to the motel room that Chloe was currently residing in. He convinced Sam to leave them alone for just an hour or two. Get some grub or read some obits, hell look for porn on the laptop somewhere, he didn't care. And as he parked the ridiculously small-feeling car in front of the jeweler's, there was mixed satisfaction when he went inside, put down a wad of cash and pointed out what he'd found three days prior. Taking the black velvet box from the grinning man behind the counter, he nodded, pocketed it, and made his way back to the eye sore he just bought.

He didn't know whether to kick himself or pat himself on the back. When he pulled into the Motel parking lot, he sighed (with resignation or relief, he wasn't quite sure). All he knew was that in an hour, when his brother got back, Sam was going to laugh until his sides hurt and then he was going to freak out. So he got out, didn't bother locking the door and walked to the Motel room. When he stepped inside, she was lying on her stomach, dressed in one of his old shirts, long enough to reach her mid-thighs. Sprawled along the bed, her legs up, ankles crossed, face pillowed on one hand, she read a book - probably one of those romance novels she liked so much. He snorted, shaking his head, and suddenly felt so much more at ease.

Closing the door behind him, he kicked his boots off and shrugged off his coat.

"Hey," she said, grinning up at him.

He nodded, crossing the room and laying down next to her.

She leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder. "Listen to this..." She cleared her throat.

"Rosetta was no poor soul, despite how the others looked at her. ‘Poor, little Rosie,' they all thought. Because why? Her husband, of course. They looked at him and saw him unfit for her; too rough, too dark, not sensitive enough to her needs, could never understand ‘little Rosie.' But what they didn't know, what they'd never know, was that within the confines of their room, in moments spared where people couldn't watch or listen or hinder, her husband was the kindest of all men. He had a heart spun of gold, whether he knew it or not.

"Yes, he was gruff and he could be callous when pushed, but in the end, he was nothing but a good man born of bad luck. He would lay down his life in favor of hers or anybody else's. He would offer himself up to death on a silver platter. ‘Take me,' he'd cry, ‘and leave the innocent be.' And that is how Rosetta knew, that is how she held her shoulders high and comforted herself on days where they stared and whispered and shook their heads, tisking over the match. They - they knew nothing. She - she knew it all. She was not the poor soul, no. She was the lucky one."

Turning her head, she looked up at him, lips curled.

"Where's the hot, steamy sex?" he teased.

She laughed. "Innocent me reading such naughty literature?" She rolled her eyes. "Why I wouldn't dare..." She rolled onto her back. "Of course, I wouldn't be against showing you how they did it."

He reached for her, arm wrapping around her waist and dragged her across the bed until her back was pressed against his front.

She turned her head. "This usually involves less clothing and not that I'm against the positioning but we could definitely readjust a little here," she murmured.

He chuckled before ducking his head and kissing the corner of her eye which fluttered at the touch of his lips. He kissed lower, along her cheek and down her jaw. Drawing her hair out of the way, he pressed his lips to her neck, suckling her skin and grazing his teeth against her.

She licked her lips, rocking her hips back against him. "Sam could come back, we-"

"He's busy for the night," he said, fingers nimbly dragging the shirt she wore up her body. She hissed at the cool touch of his hand spreading along her bare skin. He kissed her shoulder, tugging her shirt away to reveal her back.

Gathering her hair up into his hand, he held it as he kissed down the base of her neck and along her spine. She rolled over slightly, half on her stomach. He braced a knee between her thighs and drew her shirt off the rest of the way, tossing it to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties. His hands found her hips and kneaded up her sides before cupping her lace-sheathed breasts, flicking his thumbs over her tight nipples. Whimpering, she arched into him. He teased her awhile, drawing circles with his forefingers and massaging her skin before drawing one hand away only long enough to undo the clasp of her bra at her back.

Sliding his knee up further between the juncture of her thighs, he held her tight against his leg and rocked it against her. Her breath hitched with each rub of his jean-clad thigh against her heat, barely shielded through her thin cotton panties. His arm snaked around her, his hand sliding down her abdomen slowly before wandering beneath her underwear, cold fingers sliding against her warm slit.

"Dean," she gasped and he felt his chest clench. She was going to be saying that name, just like that, for the rest of her life, he decided.

He massaged her folds with his fingers, feeling her heat coat his digits. She jerked against him, turned her head and pressed her cheek against his as his front pressed against her back. Wrapping another arm around her, he switched positions radically, drawing her into his lap as he sat back on his haunches. Her head fell back to his shoulder while she straddled his thigh, rubbing herself down against him while simultaneously rocking herself against his wandering fingers. Sliding his hand up her stomach, he cupped her breast, kneading the soft, firm flesh. Turning her head, she attached her mouth to his neck, nuzzling his ear as she suckled and lightly bit his skin.

Her hand fell to his lap, rubbing back and forth along the hard bulge already formed. "Hm-mm," he disagreed, grabbing her hand and drawing it up to hold her other breast. "This is about you," he said in her ear. She looked up at him, eyes dark and he knew she was about to ask why, so he flicked her clit with his forefinger and distracted her entirely. She moaned, jerking her lower half against him. Her eyes fluttered closed and her teeth bit into her lip. He watched her cheeks flush and her body writhe as she melted into his grasp, rocking her hips to meet each stroke of his fingers.

He ducked his head to kiss her shoulder and up her neck, suckling her pulse point, feeling the vibrations of her moaning. He could feel her heat dampening his jeans. She reached an arm behind her, her nails biting into his neck, dragging down. He drew circles with his fingers, massaging where he knew it'd make her whimper. He ran his middle finger down in a straight line, dipping it inside of her, massaging her inner walls, twirling his finger around and around. Her cheek rubbed against his as she lifted herself up and brought herself down on his digit, wanting him deeper.

"More," she breathed, opening her eyes to look up at him.

He stared back, at those green eyes that had him grinning from the very first moment he met her. So full of passion and strength and wild energy that she didn't want to reign in. He kissed her, inserting two fingers deep inside her and pumping them in and out quickly. His tongue stroked hers and along the roof of her mouth, making her whimper as she rocked her hips and tried to focus on kissing him back. He thumbed her clit, his two end fingers curling and unfurling against her folds. She gasped, her mouth falling open and he nibbled her lower lip before kissing down her chin and along the column of her neck, suckling the crook where her shoulder started.

His finger circled her nipple, using his short nails to send shivers through her as they lightly scratched her skin and ran across her nipple at random. He inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of her heat mixed with the faint smell of her bodywash still on her skin. His nose brushed her neck as he kissed up to her ear. "Say yes," he told her.

"Yes," she replied simply.

He grinned. "Not yet."

She laughed breathily. "Hey," she rasped, "I'm liable to say yes to anything right now... What'd you expect?"

He lifted a brow. "How liable?" He twisted his fingers inside of her, rubbing her clit a little faster.

"Very, very," she panted, "liable."

He nodded. "Good."

"Why?" she wondered, looking up at him with lust darkened eyes.

"Nothing," He licked his lips. "Just remember to say yes."

Her lips curled. "Duly noted."

Leaning forward, he kissed her once more, more tender now, lingering across her lips, a drastic difference as his fingers thrust deeply inside of her, a third added to the mix. She rocked quicker, unable to keep up, simply taking the hard penetration and stretching her back as she reached closer and closer to her orgasm. He drew his initials with his thumb across her clit, over and over again as he fingered her until finally she inhaled sharply, arched her back, and let out a high cry of ecstasy. She jerked against his hand, her body thrumming and quaking, until she slowly relaxed, falling back against him, boneless. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her lips turned up in a satisfied grin.

He kissed her flushed cheek, watched her eyes lay closed, moving back and forth beneath her lids. "Marry me," he said.

Her eyes opened quickly then, her vivid green gaze meeting his. She stared at him searchingly, as if she thought she'd imagined the words.

He half-smirked, more to reassure himself than anything. "Marry me, Blondie," he repeated, sounding more certain than he felt.

Lifting a hand, she cupped his cheek and drew him down into a kiss, her mouth slanting across his slow and deep, no tongue or teeth, just lips and breath mingling. Her arm wrapped around his neck, her body turning, legs wrapping around his waist. She used it to her advantage, pushing down on the mattress and drawing him up until she fell onto her back on the mattress with him covering her. The feeling rushed back into his legs suddenly but he ignored the pins and needles, too absorbed in her mouth. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her hands spread out along his back, running down to the end of his shirt and drawing it up until it was stuck at his armpits.

As they broke apart, he stared at her, licking his lips. "Just so are lines aren't crossed here...?"

She laughed. "Yes." She nodded, leaning forward to peck his lips once more. "I mean, I have to talk to Lois and... and Clark and my dad, probably, but... I think, yes..." Her brow furrowed.

"I got Lois covered. She told you to call with details."

Her eyes widened. "You... You asked Lois if you could..." She swallowed tightly, her eyes suddenly damp.

He winced. "You're not gonna cry, are you?"

She chuckled, sniffling, before she nodded. "No," she said, contrasting her movement.

He lifted up off her and sat back, digging in his pocket for the ring and pulled it out. "Figure I should do this right..." He held the small diamond band out on his forefinger.

Sitting up, she stared on with wide-eyes. "But... Dean, you live on credit card fraud and poker winnings... There's no way you could've possibly..."

He cleared his throat, shrugging. "I sold off some stuff... Don't worry about it..."

Her brow furrowed. "What'd you sell?" she asked uncertainly.

Taking her hand, he slid the ring on her finger. "What does it matter?"

"It matters," she said, shaking her head before she moved to slide out from beneath him.

He grabbed her hip. "Where are you going?"

"To look in the parking lot," she said pointedly.

He looked away.

"You sold her, didn't you?" she said quietly.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

"Dean?"

"Guy gave me a good deal... We've got another car... It's not bad, not as comfortable, but..." He shrugged. "Saw the ring and I... I knew it was it."

She reached up, cupping his face. "Dean, the Impala was your baby, she's-"

"Not as important as you," he cut her off. "I can get another car..." He frowned. "I'll play more poker, scam more pool, whatever..."

"But it was your-"

"Chlo," he said, shaking his head. "I don't want this to be a big deal. I sold my car, I bought you a ring, we're getting married. That's that."

She was quiet for a moment before finally nodding. "All right."

He grinned, nodding.

With a smirk, she reached forward and grabbed the end of his shirt, tugging it up and off of him. "Now let me say yes properly," she said, brow lifted.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her up against his chest. "I'm not stopping you."

She laughed lightly before pressing her lips to his.

Tomorrow, when he had to climb in the car that wasn't his Impala, he knew he'd be filled with loss. It wouldn't feel right and he'd hate it simply because it wasn't his girl, but as the cool touch of her ring ran across his shoulder, he couldn't muster up any regret just yet. Before Chloe, he couldn't imagine giving up his car for anybody or anything, except maybe Sammy. But this wasn't life threatening and he'd willingly handed over the keys. All because he saw the right ring and he knew it was now or never. So maybe he was just trading in one faithful, all consuming girl for another. Except this one could love him back and would, for a lifetime.

[Next: Part V (End).]

In Proper Order: [Next.]

Author's Note: For those of you who want to burn me at the stake for selling the Impala, wait until you read part five to get your torches ready!