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You and Dean are snuggled together in his room in the bunker watching Scooby-Doo. You're half asleep, laying on his chest. You have a small, sleepy smile on your face, mostly watching Dean's reactions to the show. He's laughing at every joke and just generally looks more relaxed than he's been in a while.
You lean into him a bit more. He kisses the top of you head before going back to watching Shaggy and Scooby run away from the 'ghost' that's probably just gonna end up being a landlord. You break your silence, voice a bit deeper due to how relaxed you are. You've been on testosterone for nearly a year, so your voice is deeper than before.
"Remember when you told that cop you thought you were adorable? It was during that case after you picked Sam up from college…" You murmur, pressing your face into Dean's neck. He pauses mid-laugh at something Shaggy said, thinking.
"Uhm… I guess? You can't expect me to remember everything I say, sweets," he tries to play off his confusion as to why you're bringing this up now.
"Mm.. He asked you if you thought you were funny… You said you were adorable… You were right," you slur against his skin, drifting further into unconsciousness. Dean's breath hitches. By now, he should be used to you randomly complimenting him, but he's not. He's not sure he'll ever be. He remembers that day. He was just messing with the cop to buy himself some time to think up how to escape. He didn't really mean what he said. Sure, he know's he's hot, but adorable? Not so much. And he definitely wasn't expecting you to agree with a split second one-liner he came up with to make fun of someone.
Before he can ask you how you even remember that stuff, he can feel your breathing even out against him. He pulls you closer on instinct.
"I was right…" He whispers to himself, like he's trying to comprehend that someone as sweet as you called him adorable.
Eventually, he falls asleep with you still in his arms. A regular occurrence. You rarely spend the night in your room anymore. It started one night with him calling you into his room after a nightmare. You never asked what it was about, but you can assume he dreamt about you dying with how tight he held you that night. The morning after, he looked much more well rested than you'd seen him before. Thus starting the trend of you sleeping all snuggled up together.
If Sam ever asks, it's just manly cuddling between friends. Dean still isn't super open about his affection for you or his sexuality. Neither of you have a label on what you have, but you do know that Dean has stopped flirting with people unless it's for a case. Even then, he always showers you with affection after. He knows you know that his flirting doesn't lead anywhere anymore, but he still feels bad about it. He doesn't let himself cry often, but the first time someone kissed him after you two started your thing, he held you until he knew you were asleep before letting a few tears free.
In the morning, he stirs before you despite him having fallen asleep after you did. He rarely gets more sleep than you. You do get him to take naps with you during the day if there's not a hunt. He's stopped getting up early because he never wants to wake you up. Even if there's a hunt, he's extra careful to not disturb your slumber.
Today, there's no hunt — at least, not yet — so he just pulls you against him since you drifted apart a little during the night. There's not much room on his bed, so you can't ever be not touching, but he still wants you to be as close as possible. The bunker regulates the temperature, so neither of you are ever too hot unless you have a hot flash from T. In those cases, you lay on the cold floor until it's over and you can go back to your cuddles. He finds it funny, but he knows not to laugh lest he incur your wrath.
You slowly wake up, burrowing your face into his chest in that way the makes his heart melt just a bit more every time. He runs his fingers through your hair making you shiver a little and hum softly.
"Good morning," you murmur.
"Mornin', sweetheart," he mumbles into your temple, kissing the spot gently. You lean your head up to kiss his jaw. The funny part is that you're about an inch taller than him, so in order to be chest height with him, your feet are out of the blanket a little. Sometimes it's nice to feel small, even at the cost of warm toes.
"Do I have to get up?" You ask, voice heavy with sleep. He smiles and shakes his head.
"Not for a while," Dean responds softly. Only you get to see this side of him. Not the harsh hunter or dickish older brother of Sam, but just Dean. Just the man. The one that likes nerdy references, the one that likes memory foam mattresses, and the one hopelessly soft for you.
"Mm… Breakfast?" He lets out a soft snort.
"In a bit, baby," he rubs you back a little, pressing a bit harder where he knows you're tense. You hum. He's definitely an acts of service guy. Even when relaxing, he's helping you out.
He pauses for a second, remembering the conversation you two had the night before. He wonders if you remember too.
"Hey… About last night," he starts, not sure where he's going with this. Dean Winchester is a lot of things, but good with emotions? Not really.
"You're wondering why I called you adorable?" You finish his thought. Times like these make him wonder if you're a mind reader like Missouri.
"Uh… Yeah…" He mumbles.
"Because it's true. You may be a hunter, but you're also a cutie. Two things can be true," you state like you didn't just blast through his whole 'tough guy' facade while half asleep. Deep down, he knows he's not the same hardass as his dad, but it's hard for him to come to terms with it.
"'M not cute…" He grumbles half-heartedly.
"Mhm, and what's your favorite show?" You tease. It's no secret that he loves Scooby-Doo. Dean huffs instead of responding, knowing how he acts when the show is running. You kiss his cheek making him blush a little.
Dean just pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair. He mutters something incoherent, probably defending Scooby-Doo. You smile softly.
Yeah, he was definitely right.