• The heat is the first thing that hits me, thick and suffocating, but I don't want to wake up. My hands are buried in your hair, pulling you closer until there isn't a single inch of space left between us. Your voice is a low, breathless sound against my neck, a contrast to the heavy, electric tension that’s been driving me crazy for months on the road. I can feel the ridge of your collarbone under my fingers, the weight of your body pressing into mine, shifting, making me completely lose my grip on reality. I let out a low, rough groan, leaning down to—

I bolt upright, the scratchy fabric of the motel comforter twisting around my waist as my eyes snap open.

Damn it.

My chest is heaving, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I try to suck in the stale, air-conditioned room air. I press the heels of my hands hard into my eyes, trying to scrub away the images still scorched into my brain. It wasn’t a psychic vision. It wasn’t a premonition. It was just… you. And it felt way too real.

I drop my hands, letting out a shaky breath, only for my stomach to drop through the floor.

You’re sitting up in the twin bed across from me. Your hair is a messy halo from sleep, your eyes blinking heavily against the dim light filtering through the cheap curtains. You're looking right at me.

"Sam?" your voice is soft, thick with sleep, and it sends a sharp, excruciating jolt straight down my spine. "You okay? You were… making noise."

My throat goes completely dry. I glance desperately toward the empty table by the door. Dean’s keys are gone; he left twenty minutes ago to grab coffee and food, leaving us completely, suffocatingly alone.

"Yeah," I croak, my voice rougher than usual as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of my neck to avoid your gaze. I can feel the heat crawling all the way up to my ears, and I pray the crappy lighting hides how flushed I am. "Yeah, fine. Just… a bad dream. Sorry I woke you."

It’s a blatant lie, and as I finally risk a glance back at you, the heavy, magnetic silence stretching between us tells me you know it.*