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It was the quiet moments like this that Dean could just lay in bed and feel like he was the luckiest man alive.
The early morning sun filtered in through the vaguely red window curtains of the motel room. It was quiet outside except for the occasional bird chirping and the soft sounds of a car driving past on the road, wet from the last nights’ rain.
And on the king sized bed, two bodies stretched out beside the hunter. Two rather breathtaking figures, beautiful to behold in the early mornings, utterly relaxed and momentarily free of worries or stress, youthful and vibrant.
Joe, as always, was in the middle of their little doggypile. Flat on his back sprawled like the starfish sleeper he was, one arm extended to rest across Dean’s chest, the teenager snored softly, soft lips parted as he breathed. His yellow blond hair was growing out, much like Sam’s, except wavier, framing his face rather nicely. The freckles high on his cheekbones were perfectly highlighted within the balance of shadow and light, showing his age though his body was well toned, someone just leaving puberty and reaching the height of his prime.
Frank was on Joe’s other side, slender body wrapped around his younger brother. His own dark hair swept across his forehead, curled on his side with one arm wrapped tightly around Joe’s waist, the only indicator that he was prepared to wake in an instant if Joe was pulled from his grasp. Even in sleep, the elder Hardy was ever vigilant of his brother’s safety. But for now he was deep in slumber, the usual stress lines in his forehead smoothed out by sleep. Shadows were cast over his angular face, and to Dean he didn’t look like the hardened nineteen year old he had come to know, so on guard, always on the edge of fear and anger. He looked like any worry free kid, maybe even younger than what he was, and the older hunter wanted nothing more than to kiss the boy’s nose, to whisper in his ear that everything was okay, they were safe.
But he didn’t want to disturb them, either of them. Sleep was something they all treasured, and Dean was content to lay here and watch over them, examining their faces, lightly tracing their scars, pale lines over their skin, many of them much older than their recent hunting lives, reminders of a life full of mystery and potential, adventure and danger wrapped into one, a life where they thrived and had to abandon when they had nothing else left but each other. Depending and trusting one another, loving each other as they always have but used to have to hide.
Dean would forever be amazed and grateful that the Hardys let him into their little world. They loved each other so deeply, so purely, so unconditionally, and the fact that they welcomed into that, gave him the same love and trust they had between each other, it was a sight to behold, even if they weren’t fucking like rabbits.
It was how they moved together, looked at each other. When soft moments occurred and Frank would gently stroke Joe’s hair as his brother snuggled against him. When, before a hunt, Joe would grasp his brother’s hands, blue eyes locking onto grey, an unspoken agreement, a silent vow to return alive, to come back to each other. THAT was a true kind of love, the best kind of love.
Dean didn’t deserve that kind of love, but they disagreed, and for that he was humbled, honored, and would do anything to protect it.
Another silent vow, as the sun climbed higher and Joe slowly woke first, as Dean leaned in to kiss that soft mouth, his heart speeding up as Joe kissed him back, not fully awake but still content, still happy, as the teen reached up to touch his cheek and Frank stirred from sleep as well, kissing Joe’s shoulder, Dean knew this was something he would do anything to keep safe.
He belonged with these two broken brothers. These boys who, despite everything that had happened, who had seen evil, had stared into cold eyes and experienced things no child should ever experience, these two brave, amazing young men who still saw good in the world, who fought to protect and save the innocent and went to bed feeling accomplished at knowing they had helped make the world a bit safer, they were a firm addition to Dean’s family. He loved them, and they loved him, and for that he was happy. As long as he had the Hardys and Sam, then things really couldn’t be bad again. Not really.