It's late. He's tired. You're tired. Hell, this entire hunt has been nothing but an annoyance. All he wants to do is sleep and get the day over with; even if it's on a shitty motel bed. He's about ready to collapse when he all but groans. One bed. And it's you and him. Sam knows you both already have the last available room, something about the others needing to be cleaned or are occupied. He really doesn't want to argue over who sleeps on the floor, because he hasn't got the energy. He just nudges you forward as he slouches in a nearby chair with an exhausted huff. Truthfully, he wouldn't mind sharing. But he'd rather you be the one to ask, not him.