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“You really are a sap,” Dean said happily, breathing deeply.

“For you,” Sloane said.

Dean hummed at his words, which was more than enough for Sloane. Here was a man who knew him inside and out, better perhaps than he even knew himself—a man he could give himself over entirely without reservation or fear.

A man he meant to spend the rest of their shared lives with, and he knew he would never go without.

DEAN

It was good that Sloane’s prediction about how long it would take his family to return was accurate. Once Dean had regained some of the feeling in his legs, he had been quick to straddle Sloane’s hips and draw another round from him. The second time wasn’t nearly as fevered and insistent, but it had still left Dean quivering and crying out by the time they were done. Afterward, he had laid against Sloane’s chest, barely aware of the passing of time as Sloane’s arm wrapped around him.

They couldn’t lay there all day, though, and eventually had to pick themselves up. Sloane had to throw their bedding into the washer, considering the mess they’d left. And while Sloane would deny it, Dean accused him of doing that before their shower because it meant their supply of hot water was limited and would keep Dean from getting any ideas while they were naked and wet.

Falsely accused or not, Dean had to admit it worked well.

By the time the family showed up, the bedding had been thrown into the dryer. Dean had been comfortably lying with his head in Sloane’s lap when the front door burst open, and the customary noise of Shawna, followed by Ana and Diana, entered. They were laden with bags, though Dean had no ideawhat they could have found or how they had the patience to shop for anything on the day before Christmas.

Sloane looked over his shoulder, grinning at his family. “I see you guys had fun.”

“Is he smiling?” Diana asked in a quiet voice.

“He is,” Shawna said, sounding unnerved. “It’s weird. Why are you smiling?”

Sloane’s expression immediately fell to a heavy frown. “Fine, I hope your trip sucked. Assholes.”

“Language,” Ana called from the kitchen. “Girls, leave your brother alone and let him be happy. Get in here and help me unpack.”

Dean chuckled when they were out of sight, burying his face into Sloane’s stomach. “I think they’re onto us.”

“They will be once they see what’s in the dryer,” Sloane said with a shrug. “I don’t care. Does it bother you that they might know?”

“I mean, wearedating. I imagine they guessed we might be sexually active,” Dean said.

“This from the man who thought it was weird being a couple around them,” Sloane said, eyebrow raised.

Dean snorted, closing his eyes. “Your mom and I talked last night.”

“Oh? About what?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious.”

“We talked about you,” Dean said, watching Sloane’s face carefully. “The family, my being here. Your dad.”

Sure enough, a shadow passed over Sloane’s face. “And why would you want to know abouthim.”

“Because I want to know aboutyou,” Dean told him. “He’s always been the one subject you won’t talk about.”

“So you asked her,” Sloane said, glancing over his shoulder.

“She started talking about him.”

“You can know about me without needing to know about him.”

“Maybe. But curiosity has always been one of my greater sins.”

Sloane snorted, running a hand through Dean’s hair. “I wouldn’t call it a sin. She showed you the album, didn’t she?”