And, there he was again at your door. Dean gazed at you easily and you felt the calm that he always brought with him. It wasn't the first time he had come to check on you since your whole family was slaughtered, but every time it made you feel better. It probably shouldn't have because the memories of that horrible night always came back to you, but there was something about the green-eyed hunter that made you feel better.
Since that night, every time Dean and Sam were anywhere near your tiny Midwestern town he stopped in to do what he called a 'regular check-in.' Sometimes he would call first, or text that he was coming over. Other times, he would show up unannounced. When you weren't there right away, Dean usually found his way over to the bar and would come over afterward a little drunk. You never really minded because he was always respectful and would crash on your couch. There were even times where he would bring Sam with him and they would both take up your living room furniture.
Dean's presence was starting to be a regular thing, and you didn't mind. At first, you were a little awkward, but now he was almost like family. Plus, he was pretty nice to look at, let's face it. As time went on, you forced yourself to look at him more as a gay best friend or a brother. It was easier than the thought that he wasn't attracted to you, especially because you were clearly attracted to him.
Today though, you had been at work when Dean messaged that he was coming through town. Apparently, he dropped Sam off with some guy named Bobby, who was like his dad. This wasn't the first time you'd heard the name, and you had long ago figured out that Bobby must live nearby because that seemed to be where Sam would go when Dean came over for his 2 or 3 day stay with you. Of course, with you at work, you figured Dean would be coming over a little drunk tonight and boy were you right.
Now, you had been home for two hours and Dean had just arrived. That dopey grin on his face that was almost too adorable told you everything as you ushered the gorgeous hunter inside.
"Hey beautiful, how are you?" He slurred a little, which meant this was one of those times where you needed to get him some water and put him to sleep on your couch.
"I'm doing well Dean, pretty well. Come in and let's get you out of those shoes and that coat." You ushered him in, and he slumped onto the couch. You were quick to help him remove his coat and take off his shoes.
"You know, I can do that myself."
"Would you just stop? We can talk more tomorrow, but for right now you need some sleep drunky."
"Why don't we have some more drinks together and then we can both be happy?"
"Because you need to sleep, and I'm tired too. We can hang out tomorrow alright." And with those words, you got up pouring him a glass of water from your fridge. When you returned, he already had his eyes closed and his breathing had evened out. You put the drink down on the coffee table out of reach a little so he wouldn't hit it if he had one of those damn bad dreams that woke you both up sometimes. A quick blanket thrown over him and you were heading to your room.
That familiar calm surrounded you as you lay there, feeling the protection that came with having a hunter in the other room. You read a few chapters of your book and crashed out. The door to your room was open, and unlike usual you slept in shorts and a tank top. After all, the last thing you needed was for Dean to see you naked. You didn't need to see the disapproving look in his eyes at the sight of your less than perfect physique.
You left the door open, of course, because Dean might need something and the motherly part of you always wanted to take care of your savior. After the first time he stayed, you knew he had demons. That first night, Dean woke up yelling in his sleep and you had raced out of your room to see what was going on. He looked at you terrified and you had gone to his side holding him a little, until things calmed. He never wanted to speak about what was in his dream, but he was so thankful to have you there. That much you knew.
Of course, the bad dreams were better than the other two alternatives. There was the situation that you worried about a little tonight. When Dean had a bad time, he would drink a little too much and after the night he threw up all over your floor trying to find the bathroom, you were always on the lookout for the sound of him stumbling about so you could jump out of bed to help him. And finally, there was that unfortunate night where he was having some sort of PTSD flashback and was wandering around your apartment with his gun drawn. It ended with you terrified, and him visibly shaken. The shock of him storming around had you worried about going to sleep without knowing if he would throw your door open and take a shot.
All of that added up to you asleep soundly, but with one ear out for your guest to make sure he was okay. That's why you heard the noises at around 3 am coming from the living room. It was rustling that woke you at first. Your eyes popped open just a little, taking in the sounds to determine if it was worthy of you getting up or just him rolling over. When you heard the sound of Dean breathing heavier in the other room, well that was a signal. You figured he was probably having a bad dream.
The dim lamp in the corner of the living room was the only light source as you crept down the hallway in your dark apartment listening. You would usually watch him to see if it was bad enough to wake him. There were times, he would wake a little and just roll over. You always tried to preserve his dignity by not being seen when it was just one of those. Something inside told you there was a whole lot that Dean had seen in his life that caused his nightmares, and the last thing you wanted to do was highlight that dark part of him.
Now, though, you heard a rhythmic shuffling and Dean's breathing was heavy. Fearing the nightmare was truly horrific, you made your way to the edge of the hallway. You could hide in the shadow here but still see all of Dean. Your face flushed immediately as you took in the full appearance of him before you.
Dean had his jeans undone and those and his boxers were pushed midway down his thighs. His shirt was drawn up exposing his gorgeous chest and abdomen, a tan landscape of hotness that was only broken up by a few scars. As if being on display like this wasn't enough to make you turn crimson, there was what Dean was doing. He had one hand stroking over one of his nipples in time with his other hand that stroked up and down his cock. It stood magnificently out, making your body quiver. You had never seen Dean in any real state of undress, but here he was and you could see every inch. Dean's cock was bigger than you expected and even his large hand didn't take away from the girth that was there. It was truly a riveting sight.
You should have left, but it was paralytic to watch him stroke up and down, playing with his tip every so often as a bead of precum would gather. His every sigh and moan had you in suspension as you watched him move faster and faster. If his eyes weren't opened here and there, you would have sworn he was jerking off in his drunken slumber. But, no, he knew exactly what he was doing - just not what he was doing to you. The crush you had on him forever was never going to go away if you kept watching as he jerked himself off on your couch.
"Huh...oh [Y/N]...yea just like that beautiful." Holy fuck, he just whispered your name. You froze, not sure what to make of what you just heard, but knowing that you were going to watch this to its inevitable conclusion.
"Uh...yes...oh you're gonna make me cum baby. Uh...huh...oh [Y/N]." With the last sigh of your name, Dean tilted his cock a little and looked down watching just as you were as cum shot across his stomach. It was mesmerizing to take in the sight of it. Dean's face pulled tight in pleasure, and then relaxed completely when he finished and lay there breathing heavily as he came down.
