“You’re a good guy.” You whispered into the darkness. Dean lay on his own bed, just a few feet to your right. Sam’s snoring filled the silence while you waited for Dean to respond.
“You always say that.” He whispered back, his voice was raspy and aching for a good night’s sleep that you knew neither of you would receive tonight.
You pulled the blanket up higher up over your chest. The sheets scratched against your ass; once again you forgot to pack sweat pants.
“I always mean it.”
“Huh.” He muttered in response. You heard him flip sides. Was he facing you? You couldn’t see.
Regardless, you turned from your back onto your side, to face him.
“Dean?” You asked.
“Do you ever…feel lonely?” You asked. After two in the morning, you found that more often than not, your filter seemed to leave.
After a beat of silence he responded, “Most of the time.”
“What about the other times? What helps you get through them?” You hadn’t realized that your grip around the blanket tightened.
His breathing was even. Dean always breathed deeply, you noticed.
“You.” The word slipped out from between his lips so quietly you almost misheard, until he repeated, “You do.”
After hearing that, you weren’t sure if you allowed seconds to tick by, or minutes. Years worth of tension just released itself between these shitty motel walls. You kicked the blanket down to your ankles before quietly stepping out from your bed.
“Move over.” You gripped his shoulder beneath your fingers. He did as he was told and you crawled under his sheets. He didn’t touch you until you pressed your forehead against his chest. His t-shirt smelled like him, and you nuzzled yourself even closer.
“Do you love me?” You asked suddenly, and Dean lifted his leg over your own. In his own way, that was an answer. Laying there intertwined, you allowed yourself to savor the moment of feeling completely whole in his arms until repeating your question.
It felt as if nothing before this moment had ever existed, even though you had never even been this physically close to him.
Hugs, of course.
Kisses on the forehead, always.
But something was different now; suddenly you became more than just his best friend.
“Yes.” He answered, his lips ghosting over your head. “So fucking much.” His voice was shaking as he said it. You raised your hand to plant it firmly on his jaw. You traced circles over his temple and down to his ear.
“Why have you never told me?” You asked.
He gripped your head in his hand. “I never knew what you thought of me.”
“What I think of you?” You said more to yourself than to him, “You’re honest. Strong. Brave. Caring. Hilarious.” You began listing his qualities, “And that smile of yours, it can light up a room.”
He tucked your hair behind your ear as you spoke. When you dragged your fingers to his cheeks, you realized they were wet.
“You’re selfless, Dean.” You added, “And most of all you’re good. The kind of good that makes the best of men yearn to be like you.”
Right there, you realized you had only seen him cry one other time.
“I love you.” He whispered again and tried to pull you closer. There wasn’t any more space but damn did he try.
“Dean?” You whispered his name as if you hadn’t heard him speak just a second ago, “You’re also the guy I love. I don’t know if that fits in with the rest of the list, but I do. So fucking much.”
He was squeezing you so tight now, you nearly began to sweat.
“It’s the only part of the list that matters.” He said as his hands gripped your back.
– – – –
I haven’t written for this blog in a while. Partly due to exams, and partly to writer’s block. Let me know if you like this/send feedback! I’d love to know how you all feel about this type of imagine.