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Dean sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the sounds of family and joy, wondering if this was what it felt like to come home.

SLOANE

Dinner was as loud and messy as the car ride to the house. Only Dean had successfully waylaid Shawna by asking her how her dancing lessons were going.

To his credit, Dean seemed interested in the conversation, while Sloane was glad he could eat in relative peace. He watched Dean talk quietly with the younger woman, his dark eyes rapt as Sloane heard him asking if she might teach him a few ballroom dancing maneuvers. Sloane seriously hoped Dean never tried to gethimdancing. But as he watched Dean’s dark eyes light up with interest, Sloane realized he would give the man exactly what he wanted if he asked.

When dinner ended, his mother stood up. “Shawna, Diana. Put the leftovers away and gather the dishes.”

Shawna clicked her tongue. “Sloane’s here.”

“And Sloane is going to take Dean into the living room so they can relax with some of the hot chocolate I have warmed up on the stove,” Ana told them.

Diana eyed her sister. “She only told us to gather the stuff, not wash it. If you don’t stop, we’ll end up doing both and still not get any hot chocolate. If we miss that, I’m coming for you.”

“I can help,” Dean told her.

Ana snorted. “Sloane, take Dean into the living room. Tie him down if you have to.”

She walked back into the kitchen but wasn’t far enough that Sloane didn’t hear her finish with, “If he hasn’t already experienced that.”

“Mom!” Sloane barked, scowling when he heard her laugh.

“I guess you’re my escort,” Dean told him, pushing back from the table.

“C’mon,” Sloane said, taking Dean by the elbow and leading him into the living room.

Dean wasted no time sinking down on one end of the couch. Sloane flopped beside him, propping his feet on the coffee table.

“Don’t tell Mom,” Sloane said, crossing his feet at the ankles.

“I’ll be sure to keep your filthy secret,” Dean promised, watching Sloane closely.

Sloane snorted, raising the arm nearest Dean. “I know that look. Come cuddle.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Dean said with mock piety, which didn’t stop him from sliding to Sloane’s side and leaning against him.

“Sure you don’t,” Sloane chuckled, wrapping an arm around him. “You giant cuddle whore.”

Dean wriggled into him, a sure sign that he was happy. It was strange, the things he’d come to learn about Dean he’d never known before. Like his wriggling when he was being cuddled and pleased about it. Or when he was having one of his dreams, all Sloane needed to do was curl around him in the middle of the night. Dean had always been physically affectionate, but with their new relationship, that had increased to a whole new level. Dean fed off physical contact, though Sloane wouldn’t complain. He loved the feel of Dean’s body against his.

“You don’t have to hold back just because we’re here,” Sloane told him softly.

Dean shrugged. “I wasn’t.”

“Uh-huh, since when do you hold off on cuddling instead of demanding it like you normally do?”

“Okay, maybe I was holding back a little.”

“You know they won’t care, right?”

Dean nodded. “I know. It’s just...I don’t know, it’s weird, is all. Being here, being around them.”

“You’ve been here before,” Sloane said, frowning down at him.

“I know. But that was different. I was just the awkward best friend you’d told them about. Now I’m the boyfriend,” Dean muttered.

Sloane cocked his head. “And that’s a big deal?”