Chapter Text
The rest of the night was great for both of them. Callum had no expectations to work the next day: it was a holiday. He and Dean had a wonderful night together, in the throws of passion, and it felt just as incredible for the both of them as each time before it did. Given Dean’s recent confirmed grounding to the world he now lived in, he might have felt something even more intense.
He laid in bed, held in the arms of his big, beautiful boyfriend. He was facing towards him, and felt the hot snorts of breath from his nose hit his face, and the heat from his body was just as warm, and it only invited him in to press the two closer together. Both very easily drifted off to bed from the fatigue from their cardiovascular exertion minutes earlier.
Callum was the first to wake up, since he naturally woke up for work far earlier than Dean would like. Not wanting to ruin the moment, he laid perfectly still, and kept his hands tightly wrapped against the back of Dean’s head and the small of his back until he woke up on his own. Hours passed, maybe? He wasn’t sure. The feeling was precious, and he didn’t want to let go, so he chose not to until Dean began to stretch awake in the morning.
“You know, your hard-on is pressing right on me. You ready for round two?”
“Sounds great, but I think my back needs a while to recover.”
Callum smirked and held Dean’s buttocks in his hands, tempted to ignore his wishes, but he released his grip and sat up in bed.
“We have 24 hours to kill, Dean. What do you say we do?”
“Well let’s just eat breakfast first. I’m starving.”
“Of course you are.” Callum rolled his eyes.
The two went downstairs and ate, at least for them, a very modest breakfast. A bowl of cereal, berries and milk, an orange, a granola bar, and two slices of buttered toast, each.
“Now that you’re filled up, what do you want to do?”
“It seemed to mean a lot to you. If you really want me to, I’d be open to giving Supernatural another try.”
Callum's eyes lit up. “Really?!”
“Sure,” Dean begrudgingly said with his characteristic grumpiness.
“Let’s go!” Callum in a surprise move, dived in and picked Dean up, who laughed as Callum rushed him down the basement stairs to the Supernatural-themed room that Dean still thought was a bit odd.
“I’ll watch under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Get rid of the damn pillow.” Dean’s face got serious.
“No problem, I’ve got the real thing right here.” Callum rubbed Dean’s scalp. He went to the closet, took the pillow, and quickly ran and put it in the garbage, coming downstairs to a satisfied Dean. “Now let’s give episode 2 a try!”
It might have had something to do with its more linear storyline, but Dean was far more agreeable with 1x02. It wasn’t some grand revelation, given that he had lived every moment of the episode, but seeing Sammy and him together, doing what they do/did best, it put a smile on his face, somehow doing so even in the scenes of near-death for them.
What was even more comforting for Dean was looking at the TV itself. He saw Sammy, and he saw himself there, and he saw that Sammy wasn’t alone. He still had his Dean, watching over him, helping him, and being there for him, as he had done for little Sammy his entire life growing up. Sammy wasn’t alone. At least for the story, he was safe. Sammy had someone right by his side that he loved, and so did Dean.