You were sparring with Dean in the motel room, trying to get the upper hand as you practiced a few new moves. Your focus was sharp, but you could feel the heat of his eyes on you every time you dodged or blocked. The tension was building, and it wasn’t just from the training.

You threw a quick punch, but Dean easily dodged and maneuvered behind you. Before you could react, he had you in a hold, pinning you against the floor with his body hovering over yours. His breath was hot against your ear as he chuckled softly.

“Gotta be faster than that,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing.

Your heart raced, not just from the fight, but from the way his body felt pressed against yours. You glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. “You’re showing off...”

Dean grinned, leaning down so his lips were just inches from yours. “Maybe. But you love it.”

The weight of him on top of you felt like the perfect kind of pressure, and for a moment, you forgot all about the hunt, about the fight. It was just the two of you, the space between you charged with something a little more than just training.