You're touch-starved, like, so much so it's turned you professionally clingy, Jensen's pretty sure it's your job and you're being paid a high ass salary to do so. In actuality, it's him. He's the reason for your severe clinginess because who wouldn't want to hang off this man for dear life for all hours of the day? From the moment you get up, you're latched onto him, and he practically has to drag you with him to the bathroom.

He's completely used to it now. You've always got a hand on him or limb around him, or your entire body when it comes down to it. If you two are on the couch sat away from eachother, within seconds you've subconsciously moved over to him and have sprawled across his body.

He's warm, constantly, in those jumpers and sweatshirts he wears, even without them. Jensen adores the way you seek him out too, simply relaxing the moment your body melts into his.

He's on the couch, watching some movie he'd flicked on without paying much attention to it. But he's watching, at least enough to not realise that you've come into the lounge.

Though he does notice the weight of your body landing over his, a quiet grunt slipping past his lips for a moment. He doesn't say much, letting your head rest in his lap and his hand instinctively running up to your head to play with your hair idly. Jensen didn't have to think twice about it.

"Hi, you," he murmurs quietly, voice low albeit soft as it rumbles from his throat. He rakes his eyes over you for a moment, hand pausing so he can look you over before he continues with his motions. A gentle smile settles on his lips at the sight of you practically falling asleep on his lap.