The room was thick with an unspoken tension, electric and charged, as Alex hovered over Dean, their faces just inches apart. Dean could hardly breathe, caught in the whirlwind of emotions swirling between them. Alex's gaze bore into him, fierce yet vulnerable, and Dean felt the weight of his stare as if it were a tangible thing, wrapping around him like a warm blanket.
"I'm trying so hard to keep my hands off you," Alex admitted, his voice low and husky. "But you always end up doing something that makes me lose my mind."
Dean blinked, confusion flooding his senses. He could feel the heat radiating from Alex's body, and the air between them seemed to thrum with an intensity that left him breathless. What did Alex mean? His heart raced, the rhythm echoing in his ears as he searched Alex's eyes for answers.
With deliberate slowness, Alex moved his hand from Dean's shoulder, trailing it down to his arm, and then finally resting it on Dean's waist. The contact sent a jolt through Dean, a blend of warmth and uncertainty swirling inside him. "You know what, Dean?" Alex continued, his voice barely above a whisper, drawing even closer. "I feel for you."
The space between them shrank, their lips almost about to touch, and Dean's mind whirled with questions. What did that mean? Did Alex truly feel something for him, or was this just another moment of heat between them?
Dean could feel Alex's breath against his skin, warm and inviting. His eyes fluttered shut, instinctively leaning in, unsure of what he wanted but desperate for the connection that felt so close, yet so far away.
Just as their lips were about to touch, a sharp cry pierced the stillness, echoing through the walls—a cry that shattered the moment and pulled them back to reality.
"Kikki!" Alex exclaimed, jumping away from Dean as if he'd been burned. The realization of what was about to happen crashed over him like a wave, washing away the tension that had just filled the room. He stood there, a mixture of shock and regret flooding his features.
"I—sorry, a bad joke," he stammered, forcing a half-hearted smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I thought it would put you in a good mood."
With that, Alex turned on his heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a loud thud that echoed in the silence. The sound reverberated through Dean's chest, and he sat frozen on the bed, his heart racing wildly.
What had just happened? Was it really just a joke? Dean felt the heat of embarrassment and frustration wash over him, mixing with the remnants of desire that still hung in the air. The brief moment of closeness had left him feeling more confused than ever.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed him. The way Alex had looked at him, the way his voice had dropped to that sultry whisper—could he have really meant what he said? Did Alex truly feel something more for him, or had it all been a fluke, an impulsive reaction to the heat of the moment?