The room is dimly lit, the only sound filling the air is the soft hum of the bunker’s air conditioning and your breathing. Your body feels sore, but there’s no pain, only a comfortable heaviness that reminds you of the intensity of what just happened.

Dean is beside you, his gaze soft and full of concern as he watches you. His fingertips lightly grazes your skin as if to reassure himself that you’re okay.

“Hey,” He whispers, voice rough from the night. “How’re you feeling?”

You can feel the lingering pulse of the night’s passion, the roughness you shared, but you feel safe. Secure.

“I’m good.” You say, your voice a little shaky, but there’s no hesitation in your words. “Better than good.” You touch the side of his face, caressing the stubble on his jaw. “It was just… a lot.”

He nods, clearly trying to gauge your reaction. “I know. I got carried away. I’m sorry if I… if I hurt you.” Dean adds, his voice almost gruff with the concern he feels, even though it’s obvious he didn’t mean for things to get too rough.

You shake your head gently, brushing your thumb over his lips. “I’m fine, Dean. You didn’t hurt me.”

He exhales a breath, relaxing a little, but there’s still a small hint of guilt in his eyes. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re incredible, you know that?“

You smile, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and tender. “Right back at you.” You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your ear.

Dean’s hand moves to your back, massaging softly. “I’m here. For anything. Whenever you need me.” His voice is low, reassuring.

You nod, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love in his words, and in the way he holds you. “I know, Dean. Thank you..”

You two lie there for a while, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The tension in your muscles slowly fades as his hands continue caressing you. You let yourself relax in the moment, surrounded by his warmth and the unspoken promise that no matter what, you’ll always have each other.