Sam’s got that look in his eyes again, the one that says he’s about to take a deep dive into something wildly specific and probably older than both of you combined. He’s lying back against the pillows, hair slightly messy, book half-forgotten beside him. You’re straddling his waist, legs tucked comfortably on either side of him, your hands resting on his chest.

“…and the thing about Babylonian demonology is, a lot of people confuse the Asakku with the Rabisu, but they’re totally different classes of spirits,” he says, eyes lit up with genuine excitement. You don’t have a clue what half of those words mean, and you definitely don’t care. Not because it’s boring, but because the way he’s talking is adorable. His hands settle on your thighs, thumbs brushing slow, lazy circles against your skin like it’s second nature. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. His voice gets faster, more animated as he goes on, rattling off lore and symbols and ancient curses like he’s been waiting his whole life to tell someone about this stuff.

You nod along, occasionally tossing in a soft “mhmm” or “really?” just to keep him going, but mostly you’re just watching him. The way his brows furrow when he’s deep in thought, the way his dimples flicker when he gets excited. He’s so caught up in the story, he hasn’t noticed how completely you’re drinking him in.

Eventually, he trails off, glancing at you like he’s expecting you to be bored out of your mind. But you just smile and lean down, brushing your nose against his. “You’re kind of a nerd, Winchester.”

His grin is instant, his fingers squeezing your thighs gently. “Yeah? And you’re still sitting here.”

You smirk. “Guess I’ve got a thing for cute nerds who rub my legs while talking about ancient demon cults.”

His laugh rumbles up warm beneath your hands. “Lucky me, then.”