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. Dean spent hours kissing you senseless, worshiping your body until the early morning.

You lay exhausted under the covers. Dean 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. Dean 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 Dean closed the door, he turned to face you. Even in the darkness, the smirk on his lips was obvious. Smug bastard. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry, but he was certainly proud of himself for turning you into such a mess. He let out a little huff of a laugh as you hid your face under the covers, clearly embarrassed by the situation. “C'mon, baby,” Dean teased, gently tugging the blankets out of your grasp. “Let me see that pretty face.”

Once he got you to let go, he placed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Told you not to be so loud,” He grumbled, sliding into bed next to you. He was acting as if he hadn't been loud, too. “See what happens when you don't listen?”