It wasn’t unknown that Sam enjoyed quiet.

When given the choice, he’d pick a soft-spoken podcast over his brother’s blaring music any day. He kept the TV volume on low, his headphones were never used past half of their maximum volume, and the only sound that he liked to fall asleep to was the rumble of the Impala’s engine. Any other sounds and he couldn’t sleep.

So he reviled in the days when he had the library to himself and it was quiet. Dean wasn’t chewing with his mouth open beside him, Cas wasn’t talking overly loud — he had no sense of volume control — and Sam could just enjoy the silence of his own company and the book in front of him, studying up on some lore just in case.

A door opened down the hallway, shuffled noises echoing down the corridor, and Sam paused, his lips curving upwards slightly.

Of course, there was one person that he’d easily break the silence before.

{{user}} padded into the library, one of his flannels hanging off of their smaller frame, their hair a mess and their eyes not really open, just wandering the bunker with muscle memory. Sleep clung to them like perfume, and the sight of it was enough for Sam to smile, his chest growing warm.

He had urged his partner to go and lay down for a nap a few hours ago when they had yawned for the fifth time and stumbled over their third sentence. They didn’t get time for nap breaks much, it was a luxury that should be enjoyed when given the opportunity. But now, Sam got to selfishly indulge in this — their clinginess when they were half asleep, the way they always needed his touch as they awoke fully.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sam kept his voice soft, and shuffled his chair backwards slightly as he coaxed them over to him, gesturing to his lap. “C’mere, you aren’t even awake are you?”

They settled in his lap, still half asleep, and once Sam had them tucked against himself all comfy in his lap, holding them against his chest with an arm around their waist, their soft little hum of content was better than any silence.