Work Text:
you were currently sat on the double size mattress of the old motel bed, switching channels on the small crappy tv that sat mere meters away from the bed. it was around ten at night and dean had gone out to the shitty bar connected to the motel with sam. the three of you had a successful hunt, saving peoples lives and putting an angry spirit to rest. so, dean wanted a nice cold beer drink to relax. you turned down the offer, desperate to shower and fall into bed after a long day. thankfully the younger winchester agreed with wanting a drink and followed his brother so you could rest easy knowing that if dean got pished, his brother could keep an eye on him.
after settling on a channel that was playing a movie you had already seen, you got comfy with pressing your back up against the propped up pillows. you only got through half of the film when the door was unlocked and in came a tipsy dean and mostly sobered up sam. “wanted to make sure he got back alright before i headed to bed. good luck and goodnight y/n.” sam says, dumping dean onto the bed before leaving the room and closing the door, swaying ever so slightly. you listen out, waiting to hear the door open in the room next to yours since that is where sam is sleeping for the night.
once you know sam is inside, you look over to dean and sigh. dean can be a handful at times when he’s drunk. though, he’s different this time. and it’s unsettling to say the least. “hey y/n,” he slurs, messily kicking his shoes off and shrugging his flannel off so he’s left in jeans and a faded metallica t-shirt. “yes dean?” you reply, still sat on the left side of the bed, watching curiously. “could you hold me?” he mumbles, turning back to look at you with glossy eyes.
dean hasn’t been the best at showing his most vulnerable parts, but who can blame him with how he was brought up? throughout your relationship you’ve been working together on tearing that wall down but dean does well at keeping it up. he’s never usually the one to ask for soft caresses or hugs, don’t get him wrong though - he loves to touch you and hold you close but when it’s your turn to hold him and give him touch outside of a sexual setting, he freezes up and becomes almost apprehensive.
“sure you can, come up here baby.” you say gently, watching as the man crawls over to you and drops his head on your chest, strong arms wrapping around your back. he lays on top of you, pressing into your legs but you don’t pay attention to it. “what’s happened hmm?” you ask, wondering as why dean is being all soft. usually when he’s drunk he can be loud and obnoxious, so the opposite of this. your hands rest on his shoulders, softly rubbing them.
“it’s nothin’,” he mumbles into your chest, not looking up at you. slowly you move one hand up into his hair and gently comb through the soft locks. dean reacts, body tensing and breath hitching but he doesn’t say anything. “is this okay? do you want me to stop?” you ask, hand stilling. at this, dean moves his head up and reveals his teary eyes. “please don’t,” he whispers and you instantly resume your actions, soothing your boyfriend.
your heart breaks at the sight of him looking so upset, like he’s never been touched so tenderly. “you never ask for this when you’re sober, why the change of heart?” you egg him on, hoping those beers will help loosen his lips and have the truth tumbling out. and that’s exactly what it does. “never got to experience this type of touch with my parents. after mum was gone, dad didn’t do much past a tight hug now and then.” he says, defeated. “guess i’ve been desperate for it.” he slurs, head dropping back into your chest.
“i know it’s easier said than done, but you can ask even when you’re sober.” you whisper back, still running a hand through his hair while the other rubs his back. “dad always said to man up.” he mumbles into your chest, arms wrapping around you tighter. you honestly wish you could punch that man across his face for how he spoke and treated his children. “well i’m not your dad am i? you will always have a place wrapped up in my arms. bad or good day, drunk or sober, injured or perfectly healthy. i’m your partner, let me take care of you now and then. you don’t have to keep up that tough guy who deflects everything with humour around me.” you whisper, continuing your actions.
you can hear the sniffles every now and then and the wetness of tears soaking into your t-shirt but you don’t say anything. you just hope that when he wakes up in the morning, he’ll remember all of this.