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HARRY

The house was quiet again.

Not the heavy kind of quiet—the good kind.

The peaceful kind.

The kind that settles into your bones, warm and steady, like the smell of coffee in the morning or the creak of the porch swing on a summer’s night.

Dean was curled up on my couch, barefoot, legs folded under him, wearing one of my old flannel shirts that hung loose on his frame. His hair was still a little damp from the shower, soft and messy, and there was the easiest smile on his face—the kind I hadn’t seen for a long time.

The kind that wasn’t forced.

The kind that wasn’t hiding anything.

I leaned against the doorframe for a second, just watching him, arms crossed, heart full. God, he looked good here.

Like he belonged here.

Like he always had.

“Stop staring at me, old man,” he teased, eyes glinting, that smile tilting into a smirk.

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m admiring the view. Don’t be rude.”

Dean laughed, head leaning back against the cushion.

I crossed the room, dropped down onto the couch beside him and pulled him close, tucking him under my arm. He nestled into my side like he was made to fit there.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I murmured, kissing his hair.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It feels really good. No chaos. No lights. No screaming fans. Just this. Just us. ”

Dean tilted his head up and kissed me softly, slowly—one of those lazy, happy kisses that didn’t need to prove anything.

After a minute, he pulled away, eyes sparkling. “Hey,” he said, nudging me gently with his elbow. “Feel like playing a song together?”

I grinned. “With you? Always.”

We both stood, moving almost in sync, crossing to the corner of the room where my acoustic guitar—now freed from the closet under the stairs—leaned against the wall alongside his touring guitar.

Dean grabbed his, settling into the chair across from me as I picked mine up and gave the tuning pegs a quick twist.

We didn’t need to say what song.

We just started playing.

Two guitars.

Two hearts.

In perfect tune.

You’re a secret on the wind

You’re a stolen work of art

You’re the one I’ve always wanted

You’re the hammer of my heart

Only, our love wasn’t a secret on the wind anymore.