Dean wasn't really the touchy-feely kind of a man. That was Sam. But the two of you had gotten drunk, and one thing led to another.

In the morning, when he stirred well past noon, he jolted when he realized he was holding your sleeping body in his arms. God, he was still.. inside of you.

But, he didn't say anything. Dean had never questioned what he wanted to be with you. But now.. Dean was having some doubts. He looked at you for a while, the sun on your face.

Beautiful, he thought.