Title: Touching Me
Summary: All the people Dean Winchester has touched. 500 word drabble
Warnings: Tiny touch of slash if you squint and mentions of male/male intercourse.
Dean and Sam were always touching. Normally they were high on adrenaline and had barely avoided the talons of their hunt. Other times, one of them had miraculously escaped the clutches of hell or the brink of death. Dean wasn't sure which one he preferred.
When he was younger, he was always holding Sammy's hand. Sometimes he'd be helping him cross the street, other times when their dad had vanished in the foliage and they were stuck sitting in the back of the Impala, nervous. Even when Sam was little and couldn't sleep, Dean would hold his hand until he dropped off. Dean didn't mind though. He held his little brother's hand until Sam said he was too old for it any more. Sometimes Dean missed his kid brother.
After his mum died, his dad didn't touch him much.
Dean tried not to take it personally. His dad was busy, and Sammy was just a baby. Sammy was young enough for cuddles and to hold their dad's hand when they walked around the town. Dean wasn't. Dean was a big boy now, he needed to be a man, a grown up for Sammy. Grown up didn't need to hold their dads hand.
So Dead didn't.
Dead touched a lot of girls too.
The first time he touched a girl, he was twelve. They had kissed and held hands, because now he was old enough to know that cooties weren't real, just something adults made to stop their kids having fun. He was sixteen the first time he actually had sex with a girl, and that sort of opened the gates for him. The girls came flooding into his bed after that.
By the time he was twenty, he had touched more girls then he could probably count up to. He had felt their supply breast under his callous hands, their smoothed unmarked skin, the plumpness of their lips and the hot little puffs of breath against his shoulders.
By twenty three, Dean's pretty sure he's tasted every flavor at the sundae bar.
The first time Dean touched a guy, he was twenty five.
It had been on Valentines day, and he had actually gone home with a women. Her husband was away on a business trip. Dean wasn't that interested though. At least, not until said husband walked through the door, cheering 'surprise'. Dean was just about ready to bolt, but the husband and wife had other plans. Apparently they were both in a kinky relationship.
Castiel was always touching him.
At first, it was annoying and kind of creepy, because, hello, personal space. After a while though, Dean kind of looked forward to it. His vessels hands were heavy on his shoulders, but not controlling and demanding answers like his dads were. It was comforting and supportive. A nice change.
If Dean smiled a little brighter when Castiel touched him, or leaned in a bit further, nobody mentioned it. Castiel was the one person Dean hoped never stopped touching him.