[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean brushed his fingers through his sweaty hair as he lay still, catching his breath. Lexi’s bed suddenly felt more comfortable than his ever had as she lay on his chest, perfectly fitting right there, as if they had known each other forever. The images and sounds from the last hour would be seared into his brain for life, he figured, as he shook himself from his thoughts with the sound of her voice.

Her comment made him laugh breathlessly, a bright and relaxed smile on his face as he tilted his head to press a kiss to her forehead, his hand wrapping around to brush some stray sweaty hair away from her face, “Well, that’s good to know. But I could say the same about you. Jesus…”

Dean chuckled again, using humor to hide the serious feelings that were bubbling into his mind. He glanced down at the top of Lexi’s head, and flashes from their time together flooded his mind again, the sounds echoing through his brain causing his heart to flutter. He couldn’t tell if that flutter was anxiety, excitement, or a rush of something else. Either way, he wasn’t going to ruin it…not now.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first time we touched, as pathetic as that sounds.” Dean grumbled, covering his eyes with his free arm. Then he laughed out of nowhere, “We should meet like this more often, darlin’.”

[h3] Anya [/h3]

Anya chewed at her bottom lip when she felt Sam’s hands on her thighs. It seemed her teasing had worked, and when he voiced it out loud, she raised her eyebrows and shrugged as if to say ‘guilty as charged, I guess’ and then she laughed silently. She waited for a moment, toying with his hair as she stared into his eyes. There were a million things she wished she could say, if she had a voice. But she could use her touch. 

She tightened her grip on the sides of Sam’s hair, tangling her fingers in the strands before pressing her forehead against him, moving her hips a bit to remind herself that he was touching her. She brushed his nose with hers, breathing against his lips as she pressed her chest against his, feeling his warmth there.

Anya brought one hand down, trailing it over his ear and down the side of his neck, feather soft touch that she knew would bring goosebumps to his skin. She let that hand trail over his shoulder and onto his back, tightening her grip to climb onto his lap, pressing her hips tightly to his. She slowly tilted her head and kissed him deeply, slow and gentle as if teasing his obvious urges, now that they were alone. 

They had nothing but time…and each other, and all she could think about as the goosebumps formed under his fingers was ‘who is Sam Winchester behind closed doors?’ And ‘what version of him will be reserved only for me?’ As if she never planned to leave this place…