Sam walks into the dark motel room purposefully, and you can tell it's him immediately from his enormousness.
"Sam!" you yelp joyfully. He's back safe from the job. Then, "Oof!" as he pulls you in for an unexpectedly intimate hug, crushing you against his chest. You squirm and ask, "Sam?" and after pulling away and flicking on the light, "Oh my god, your face!"
Purple bruised cover the right side of his face, and his right eye is swollen shut. The left side is peppered with nicks, and blood is beading on his lip from a cut.
You step closer again and cradle his head with you hand, careful not to touch the injuries, but Sam nuzzles his face into your palm, closing his eyes against your horrified stare.
"Dean let this happen?" you're angry now. "Where is he?"
Sam chuckles at your fire. "Finishing the job." His eyes open with that puppy-dog look. "I'm ok!" he insists when you give him a suspicious glare in response, laughing a little. But your thumb brushes the bruise at his temple and he winces.
"Oh, Sam." You whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He softens, reaching out and winding a lock of your hair around his fingers, then gently skims a knuckle over your cheek. You blush. He's never been so… close. So vulnerable.
"I missed you." His voice is low and husky.
"You weren't gone that long." Is he looking at your lips?
"Longer than you know."
And suddenly his large hands grip your waist, and your eyes widen as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. You let out a breathy sigh as his mouth moved against yours, so slow and soft. They taste like blood.
"You're bleeding," you say in a low voice, breaking the kiss. He doesn't let you go.
"I'm always bleeding."
And he's back, fiercer this time, pushing you up against the wall. You gasp at his desperateness, an ache building in your chest. Your hands fly to his neck, holding it as you mash your mouth against his, panting. His fingertips skim the skin underneath your t-shirt, sending tingling from your waist all through your body.
"Sam!" you growl as he rubs against you, kissing with whole his body. His mouth moves to your jaw, though he has to practically bend over to get there. His hands move up father, and you have a second of clarity to think, this is really happening! "Just take off the goddam shirt!"
He pulls it over your head, then goes back to nuzzling your neck as his hands travel. Finally he is holding you by the sides of your chest, thumb brushing over your breasts.
"Bed!" you gasp, and jump to lock your legs around his waist. His hands grab your ass to hold you there, and his lips are on yours again. He half-falls onto the mattress, kicking off his shoes as he goes, and shoves you against the pillows, straddling you lap, pinning you down. He sits back as he unhooks your bra, and you lay there for a moment, staring at each other, because once the bra comes off, your friendship is over, and something new will begin. You reach up and grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him down. Then you place a small, tender kiss on the right side of his mouth, avoiding the cracked split. He presses his forehead against yours and you push your fingers through his hair with a smile.
And he throws your bra over his shoulder.