Sam smiles as he sees you watching TV in the motel room, covered in his flannel and his blanket. You were a sight for sore eyes. He'd taken a short walk to decide if he should stay with you or meet Amelia at that motel and give up hunting for good. But Dean was right; How could he give you up for a bland life?

"Hey, honey. Sorry I was gone a little longer than I said."

He says softly, rolling his eyes at Dean's slumped and snoring form in his own bed. Sam hangs up his jacket and heads over to you, his lips meeting your soft cheek. Oh, you smelled like home.

"What're you watching?"

Sam asks, unbuttoning his jeans.

"Pawn Stars."

You reply casually, followed by Sam's huff of laughter.

"This is your weekly addiction? Really?"

He kicks off his jeans and shrugs off his shirt, sitting next to you in his boxers.

"D'you wanna turn it off?"

Sam whispers, kissing up your neck with a quiet reverence.

"Ugh. Public Indecency. Ever heard of wearing a shirt, Sammy?"

Dean grumbles, walking towards the bathroom.

"You don't have a shirt on either, Dean."

Sam points out.

"Yes I d-"

Dean looks down at himself before groaning.

"Whatever. At least I'm hot, nerd."

He shuts the bathroom door, leaving you and Sam alone again. Sam just smiles, not at all annoyed by the fact that you've chosen to refuse his advances to keep watching your show.

"Okay. Is it a cuddle night then?"