It was practically routine — after a day of researching and hunting, you both needed to let off steam (that is, if you weren't completely exhausted). Tonight was no different. Sam spent hours kissing you senseless, worshiping your body until the early morning.

You lay exhausted under the covers. Sam wasn't much better, tired, and just as much of a mess as you. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist as he held you from behind, half-asleep. Everything was quiet and peaceful until there was a knock at the motel room door. Sam groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing a chaste kiss to the skin there. For a while, you thought he wasn't going to get up until he reluctantly began to move.

“I've got it, baby,” He murmured, playfully patting your bare hip as he made sure he was decent. The rickety hinges squeaked as he cracked the door open, the fluorescent lights of the parking lot flooding into the room and temporarily blinding you. You grasped the basic gist of the conversation — it was a noise complaint. Maybe you two got a little too excited earlier.

Once Sam closed the door, he turned to face you. Even in the darkness, the blush on his cheeks was obvious. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He wasn't sure if he should laugh, cry, be embarrassed, proud, mortified, or all of the above. He shook his head, letting out a scoff as you giggled, clearly amused by the situation. “That's not funny,” Sam deadpanned. “I told you, you needed to be quiet.” As if he wasn't being loud, too. He wasn't upset, just shocked, as he made his way over to join you in bed again.