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It wasn’t often that they got a break from hunting. For the past several weeks, (Y/N) and the brothers had been on the road nonstop. Hunt after hunt, the monsters didn’t seem to take a rest, and when the monsters were active, so were hunters. That’s why, after an intense fight with a coven of witches that left the trio beaten and bruised, (Y/N) was thankful that there was nothing of interest in the news articles to keep them away from the bunker any longer. They were finally able to go back to the stuffy, safe, concrete structure that they called home.
And (Y/N) couldn’t have been happier.
When they initially moved into the Men of Letters’ bunker, (Y/N) thought it was silly - cute, but silly - that Dean seemed to have a fascination with the memory foam mattresses in all of the rooms. After the peaceful rest he got last night, he felt stupid for even having had that thought process. It’s true that ever since he and Dean got together, the nights in the dingy motels weren’t as bad. A night with Dean on a memory foam mattress, though?
Heaven.
Which was why, after they awoke at ten in the morning the day after they returned, (Y/N) didn’t want to get up.
Dean had fallen asleep on his back, one arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s shoulders. Both of (Y/N)’s arms were wrapped around Dean’s midsection, a leg draped over Dean’s hip, and his head on his chest, similar to the way a koala would cling to a tree. Dean was the first to wake, his eyes welcomed to the overwhelming darkness of the room. The downside of living in an underground bunker was the lack of natural lighting. Was it 6 AM, or was it 5:30 PM? Who knows.
Dean groaned as he attempted to get up, but found that he was stuck. He glanced down at the weight that kept him pinned to the bed. He let out a sigh once he saw (Y/N)’s restful expression. Although he would have loved to be in bed, cuddled up next to his boyfriend for hours on end, if he didn’t go to the bathroom soon, then his bladder was going to explode.
Gingerly, he rubbed (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Baby,” he mumbled, his voice gruff. “I need to get up.”
(Y/N) let out a mere hum, but didn’t verbally respond. Dean rolled his eyes and tried to get up, only to find that (Y/N)’s arms and leg got tighter around him. His shoulders slouched in frustrated defeat.
“Babe, I need to go piss,” Dean said.
“No,” (Y/N) replied, matching Dean’s tone of voice.
“Do you want me to pee on you?”
“No,” (Y/N) nuzzled his nose into Dean’s neck. “I just wanna cuddle you.”
“Well, I can’t do that if I have to piss.”
They sat there for a moment, neither of them moving. Then, reluctantly, (Y/N) pulled his body away from Dean’s. In that moment, Dean missed the warmth of his boyfriend’s body on his, but he couldn’t deny the ache in his pelvis. He tossed the comforter off himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head lowered as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. (Y/N) mimicked his actions, albeit more clumsily. As Dean stood, (Y/N) followed, and the two of them made their way out of the room. The hallway light blinded them as they left the comfort of their bedroom and made their way to the bathroom. The entire time, (Y/N) was a single step behind Dean, similar to that of a tailgating car. He grabbed Dean’s hand and held it tightly, which caused him to chuckle.
“You’re like a lost puppy,” Dean commented, his voice still laced with sleep.
(Y/N) could only grumble incoherently in response.
When they reached the bathroom, (Y/N) dropped Dean’s hand and leaned against the wall, eyes still halfway closed as his boyfriend went into the lavatory. One big thing that he and Dean had in common was the fact that they weren’t morning people. Most of that had to do with the fact that they would stay up until the ass crack of dawn, digging up graves or hunting various monsters, only to have to leave first thing in the morning when check-out was at eleven. When he and Dean would proclaim that they could survive on only four hours of sleep per night, they always neglected to mention that caffeine played a huge role in their ability to tolerate their fellow humans. If that need was ignored, God help anyone in their way.
The toilet flushed behind the concrete wall, followed by the sound of running water from the faucet. It didn’t take long before silence filled the hallway once more, and Dean emerged from the bathroom. (Y/N) grabbed Dean’s semi-wet hand in his and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. Dean kissed the top of his head.
“Do you wanna get some coffee?” He asked.
(Y/N) nodded.
“Then we can sit down in the Man Cave for a bit?”
Nod.
“Alright then,”
They went into the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. The entire time the machine heated up, (Y/N) stayed clinging to Dean’s side, an arm wrapping around his waist soon enough. Even as Dean prepared their individual coffee mugs, he wouldn’t let go. Despite Dean’s rugged exterior and lack of interest in the general population, his boyfriend’s clinginess felt good. Soft. Surprisingly domestic. As he got older, the idea of domesticity didn’t seem as bad as it did when he was in his early thirties, and (Y/N), sometimes, gave him a glimpse at a life that could be in the future for the two of them if the world wasn’t in constant peril. Perhaps in another life. Maybe in this one?
There were perks when it came to having a bunker to themselves. In spite of the isolation, with the location being just outside of one of the smallest towns in the state of Kansas, the bunker was spacious. Yes, it kept everyone safe, both from supernatural entities and natural disasters that were bound to pass by from time to time, but there was nothing like knowing that you could go anywhere in the bunker and have the opportunity to not see anyone else for the rest of the day. Only true family knows when they need a break from one another, some time to themselves, and respect it when other people feel the same.
That’s why both Dean and (Y/N) were grateful when they made their way into the Man Cave and Sam wasn’t there. Granted, Sam normally spent most of his time in the library, which was the last place the two of them wanted to be. Dean walked over with his cup of coffee and set it down on the table between the two recliners. (Y/N) set his down next to it. Dean let out a sigh as he sat down in his chair. He barely had time to get comfortable before (Y/N) sat down on his lap, one arm wrapped around Dean’s back, the other wrapped around his torso. (Y/N)’s head rested on Dean’s chest, and Dean let out a grunt of surprise.
“What the Hell’re you doin’?” He asked, unable to keep the small smirk away from his face. “You have a chair just for yourself.”
“Yeah, but I wanna be with you.”
“You are with me, that doesn’t mean you have to try and crawl into my skin.”
“But I want to.”
“What? Try and crawl into my skin?”
“Why not?”
Dean sighed and let out a breathy chuckle. He draped an arm around (Y/N)’s back. He grabbed his coffee mug and sipped on the black liquid. For a moment, they sat there, wrapped up in each other.
“You wanna watch a movie?” Dean asked quietly.
“Sure,”
“You have a preference?”
“No, just pick one. I’ll be here.”
(Y/N) nuzzled his nose into the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean chuckled as he turned and planted a kiss on (Y/N)’s cheek before he turned on the television.
…
Dean’s hand felt big in his. The course pad of his thumb ran across the side of (Y/N)’s hand. Their eyes weren’t on each other, for once. Rather, their attention was turned to their own activities as they sat in the library, side by side. Dean’s eyes were on his laptop, a variety of news articles across his browser, while (Y/N)’s was on one of the many Latin lore books they kept. Everything was peaceful. Content.
Then Sam walked into the room.
He carried his own laptop in his hands, his gaze turned to his brother and (Y/N) as an amused smirk graced his lips. He set the computer down on the table across from the couple.
“Aw, aren’t you guys just the cutest little couple?” Sam said, his words laced with a teasing intention.
Dean looked at Sam, his lip curled into a small scowl as he rolled his eyes. (Y/N) simply gave Dean’s hand a squeeze, which wiped the expression off of his face. Dean went back to focus on his computer.
“Dean’s looking at potential hunts. I’m catching up on some studying,” (Y/N) stated.
“Is that the sixteenth-century book about witches I’ve been telling you to read?” Sam asked as he opened his laptop.
“Yep.”
“Well, it’s at least good to see that you guys are using your time wisely. Do you have to do all the PDA while doing it?”
“Could be worse,” (Y/N) shrugged as he finally looked up at Sam. “You missed the first thirty minutes of us being in here, where I was sitting in his lap.” He grinned.
Sam’s nose scrunched as the image popped into his head. “Yeah, well, thanks for not doing that when I came in here.”
“Anytime, Sammy.”
The three of them sat in a comfortable silence aside from the occasional sound from the keyboards of the brothers’ computers or the gentle turn of the feeble pages. God only knows how long they sat there, with no way to tell time but the clocks on their devices and no desire to check them; none of them cared how long they were quiet.
Then, Dean let out a sigh and closed the last tab he had open.
“There’s nothing for us to snag yet,” he grumbled.
(Y/N) turned his attention from his book to his boyfriend. “How many states have you checked?” He asked.
“Twenty, which means I have a little under thirty to go, not counting Alaska or Hawaii,” he began to type into the search bar with his free hand. “I’ll be damned if I’ll get on a plane just to gank a bitch.”
Sam snorted from across the table, but said nothing. (Y/N), on the other hand, gave a small, gentle smile.
“Do you want me to get you a beer, babe?” He asked softly.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
(Y/N) stood from the table, their hands parting as he placed a kiss atop Dean’s forehead before he turned to leave the library. Sam watched the interaction, his gaze following (Y/N) as he left. He looked at Dean.
“What the Hell is going on with you two?”
Dean furrowed his brows and turned his attention to his brother. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you two all lovey-dovey all of a sudden?”
Dean recoiled, as if Sam had insulted him right to his face. “We are not lovey dovey.” He replied.
Sam flashed him a signature bitch face. “Come on, Dean,” Sam said. “Hand holding? Forehead kisses? Lap sitting?”
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but found that any retort would be futile. “Alright, fine, yeah, we’re being lovey dovey,” he spoke with disgust. “I don’t know what it is, man. (Y/N) just woke up this morning and wouldn’t let me go. And, I mean…” Dean gave a sheepish shrug. “It’s not that bad.”
Sam raised his brows and smirked. “Wow,” he shook his head and ran a hand over his stubble. “You’re going soft.”
“Hey, come on, we’ve been on the road for the past month straight. You can’t blame a guy for wanting to be close to his boyfriend while we have the only downtime in a while.”
Sam shook his head as he looked back at the computer. “I guess you got a point,”
“Plus, I think the only reason why you’re so grossed out by it is that you’re jealous that I get to cuddle with my boyfriend while Gabriel is up doing whatever the Hell he’s doing in Heaven without you.”
It was Sam’s turn to be rendered speechless. His mouth moved up and down, like a fish out of water. Finally, as the words failed to formulate, his jaw clenched. “Shut up,” he grumbled.
Dean smirked triumphantly.
…
For the rest of the day, (Y/N) and Dean didn’t leave each other’s sides. From lunch to a supply run, to another movie, to supper, and showering, they never parted. The only time they separated was when one of them had to use the bathroom. That was where they drew the line.
By the end of the day, they were tired. Not nearly as tired as they would normally be after a hunt, but tired enough to retire to their room for the night. Dean dressed down in a t-shirt and boxers, with (Y/N) dressed in one of Dean’s t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. They crawled into their bed, underneath the covers, and (Y/N) swiftly wrapped his arms and legs around Dean in a similar position that they were in when they awoke that morning.
Perhaps ‘tired’ wasn’t the right word to describe how they felt. They didn’t feel tired, nor exhausted. Rather, they felt calm, placid. It had been the most relaxing day that they had had in a while, and they would repeat it for many days to come if they could.
Dean turned his head, his nose brushing against (Y/N)’s forehead. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep, yet quiet.
“Yeah?” (Y/N) replied.
“Why were you all clingy today?”
(Y/N) blinked for a moment before he looked up at Dean, their eyes connected, his cheek resting atop Dean’s shoulder. “Because I love you,” he began. “And we focus on the hunts so much that I honestly forget that I want to be cute and cuddly with you half the time. So, since we’re on a break from hunting, I really need to be clingy with you. It’s kind of like sexual frustration, but with cuddling and hand holding.”
Dean couldn’t help but smile, a deep chuckle vibrating in his chest. “Well,” he said as he turned slightly so his body to better face (Y/N). “While we’re here, I’ll give you as many cuddles as you want.”
(Y/N) smiled as their noses brushed against one another. “As many as I want?”
Dean leaned down and pressed their lips together. He pulled back. “As many,” kiss. “As,” kiss. “You,” kiss. “Want.”