[ Oh you're touching him. It's comforting. He doesn't want to need comfort from you—life has needed too much from you already—but it's nice. It's too nice to pull away from. This body wants comfort, leaning further into you, close enough for his forehead to brush against the shelf of your shoulder. Not resting there. Just touching. He's terrible at resisting temptation.
This is nice, Dean. You were unable. But you're not anymore. You won't be always. That's enough. He lets out a soft huff, a sigh, exhaustion and relief. Doesn't pull away. ]
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This is nice, Dean. You were unable. But you're not anymore. You won't be always. That's enough. He lets out a soft huff, a sigh, exhaustion and relief. Doesn't pull away. ]
Do you, uh, have other phone pictures?
[ Of him. Of your life. Whatever. ]