— Stepping into the familiar threshold of that old, daft apartment after a long hunt was something Dean never thought he’d experience. A place to call his own was almost out of body. Even with all the roaring creaks of each door and floorboard, it was home and it was enough for him.

What was even better was that he shared it all with you. It was really only once in a blue moon he actually got to stay more than a few days before Sam called and asked where he was, which was always returned with a bullshit lie. Dean wanted you to himself, this tiny little corner of the world was his, he wasn’t ready for his little brother to know.

Sneaking past your sleeping form and slipping into your shared bathroom. It felt a bit silly having to slowly shut the door in hopes of not waking you just to turn the loud shower on. But Dean wasn’t going to wake you just because he wanted to.

He was just washing over his chest, blanket staring into the empty space in front of him when he felt a cold draft of air hit his backside followed by soft hands against his skin.

He turned around to find you.

“{{user}}, what are you doing up?” He asked, voice rough after hours of yelling and chasing after a shapeshifter. Dean could see the curious look in your eyes as they scaled over his bruised and scraped body, but he didn’t want you to worry over him a day in your life. “Shifter. Dead. i’m fine.”