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John stirs awake, shaken up from his slumber, his breathing from the jolt is loud in the quiet room. John’s eyes feel heavy, as he blinks at the ceiling. He definitely hasn't had enough sleep. Dean sleeps soundly facing him, his hand lying on John’s stomach, like he doesn’t want to let him go even in his sleep. John goes to hold Dean’s hand, softly caressing it with his thumb.
For a few minutes after, he tries to go back to sleep but it doesn't come. So he rearranges his body to face Dean. His son’s hand now has moved to his waist.
He is lost in thought, with his head resting on his upper arm, watching his son sleeping so peacefully beside him. Dean looks so beautiful with just the light and moonlight from outside of the room beaming in through the curtain. John looks at the beautiful sinful lips then he goes to touch it with his thumb, while his mind goes back to his dream that woke him up.
Mary .
John releases a sigh, part missing her, part guilt.
His eyes keep its focus on his son’s peaceful, dead-to-the-world face.
Even when his head is in turmoil, John cannot seem to tear his eyes away from Dean’s lips.
His son has always turned people’s heads, doesn’t matter if they are women, men or anything in between. With his son's kind eyes, and luscious lips, it’s a tantalizing combination.
John thinks back to those years when he had suppressed the feelings.
Hating himself for it. Wished death just to make it stop.
Vowing to never ever touch his son and not to give into his desire.
He had tried his hardest to stay away from Dean as much as he could.
There were a few times where he almost lost control and wished to take what he wanted but he had stopped himself.
Even after that one night, when Dean blatantly and outrightly asked for things he shouldn’t want,
Oh, how much he wanted to accept what Dean was offering. But the shame he felt when Dean had accused him, of Dean knowing the sickness in him and sensing the want in his eyes all along, that shame was stronger, so he put a stop on that.
He had vowed not to act on his desires, not even when Dean wanted it too, not when Dean was too young to know better.
He had kept his vows for years after.
How awkward it was between them when they both knew they wanted each other.
But he had stood his ground. Nobody can say he didn’t try.
But now, those buried and forgotten vows have now been traded with touches and moans.
John cannot find it in him to regret anything.
Even if there are times where he still wonders if he is taking advantage of Dean, and sometimes there is a small voice in his head that keeps saying “We shouldn’t be doing this” during their intimate moments. But that voice is getting dimmer and dimmer with every kiss.
It has been one month to the day since they started this.
He doesn’t know how long he has been lost in thought, looking at his son’s soft features.
He brushes his thumb lightly to those perfect lips again, thinking what boundaries he had crossed just to be able to do this.
Dean suddenly stirs.
John stops and waits to see if Dean wakes up.
When Dean blinks up blearily at John, the older man apologizes.
“Shit, sorry, I woke you up”.
“What time is it”? Dean asks, voice deep from sleep.
John moves to take a look at the wristwatch on the side table. “Almost 4”, he answers.
Dean reaches for John’s hand on his face, holding it. “Why aren’t you sleeping”? His eyes are heavy with sleep.
“Is something wrong”? Dean continues, looking more alive by the second.
“No, nothing’s wrong. I just got woken up and can’t go back to sleep.” John answers.
“So you spend that time staring at me sleeping like a creep?” Dean asks jokingly with a smirk on his lips.
John gives a small laugh. This little shit , he thinks.
After a second, Dean’s face turns serious. His thumb is brushing John’s hand. “What’s stressing you out so early in the morning”? Dean asks.
John can’t find the answer to that question. So he finds it best to not to.
“It’s nothing. Sorry for waking you up, baby. You should go back to sleep”. John strokes Dean’s cheek and leans in to kiss those hard-earned lips.
Dean holds off John’s chest and turns his face to block the kiss. “Morning breath”, he says shyly.
“I don’t care. I want to kiss you”, John whispers his answer, and so he does.
He cups Dean’s jaw and kisses his cheek. He can see the love in Dean’s eyes before he leans in and grazes their lips together. The rhythm is slow and languid. Dean seems so relaxed from it, he looks like he is almost dozing off.
“You can go back to sleep, Dean”, John whispers into Dean’s ear, before giving him a last kiss.
Dean just gives a sleepy hum and makes himself comfortable. He moves his hand to John’s chest and gets their bodies closer.
John holds his son’s hand on his chest, waiting for his own sleep to come.