A Bunny and Her Jackrabbit

Life was finally good to him– too good– he thinks to himself while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Jesus Christ when did all of that get there? His roughened hands grip at the soft fat that now covered what was once abs. He has a dad stomach, I mean he is a dad but still! Him?

Dean Winchester. World famous hunter. Michael 's vessel. Savior of the World. Him?

For God’s sake how come he never noticed? Had you noticed? Well of course you did– you lived with him, saw him everyday– there’s no way you didn’t. Why hadn’t you said anything? This version was nothing like the Ken doll Dean you met back in the day, he’s always been so used to relying on his looks, now he didn’t even have that?

Unbeknownst to you, your husband was having a full blown crisis while you’re calmly putting the baby to sleep– which was much easier now that your toddlers were nowhere in sight. It isn’t until you step into the bedroom that you catch a glimpse of a very frowny Dean in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Baby?” Your soft voice snaps him out of his self-deprecating train of thought.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t y’ tell me I was getting all–” he gestures vaguely to his stomach, clearly displeased “ –round.”

“All round?” You echo with a gentle (slightly disbelieving) chuckle, stepping closer to him in the small bathroom to place a featherlight kiss on his shoulder, careful hands trailing down his back muscles.

“Yeah,” Dean nods like it was the most obvious, wildest thing in the World “I look like a middle aged man.”

“Honey, you are a middle aged man…”

The look that meets you in the mirror is nothing short of unamused. “Y’know what I mean.”

“I know, I know…” you press another soft kiss between his shoulder blades, arms snaking around his waist to grab at the ‘oh so offending’ pouch of stomach. “Guess I never really stopped to think about it, why’re ya so focused on it?”

Seeing your husband’s shrug is what finally sends alerts ringing in your mind, could this man possibly think he wasn’t attractive anymore?

“Really?” You coax him, all the patience and love you could despite wanting to slap him for ever thinking some bullshit like that.

“It’s just weird, y’know?” Dean’s gravelly voice sounded doubtful for once. “Always been this jacked, badass hunter n’ now I’m just… this” once more he gestures to his body.

“Honestly?” You catch his attention by sliding around to stand between him and the mirror. “I prefer this version of Dean” God, you should’ve taken a picture of the face he makes. “Don’t get me wrong, baby-faced Dean was amazing… but dad bod Dean is the man I made a life with.”

Despite your husband’s stubbornness to maintain a grumpy, stubborn facade– you see the crinkles by his eyes that signaled his fond smile.

“This, as you call it–” you continue, gesturing to his soft belly, “ –was what held me when the nerves of leaving The Life got to my head, when we welcomed all of our beautiful kids to this messed up World, when I go to bed every night…” Each word is punctuated by a soft rub of your thumb over his stubbled cheek. “So yeah, I didn’t mention anything cause I never cared about it, Dean. I care about seeing my smoking hot husband smile everyday in this quiet life we built together.”

He chuckles softly, a deep rumble bubbling from his ribs as his hands cradle the sides of your head. “Y’know… baby-faced Dean would call this a chick flick moment.” There it is, that stupid humor and that boyish grin you missed– even if you roll your eyes at him right now.

“But smoking hot husband Dean ‘preciates it sweetheart.” He leans down to press a tender, all too familiar kiss to your lips, smiling against it.

“Anytime.” You chuckle softly, pressing another soft, fleeting peck to his lips.