supernatural · sam winchester · demon blood addiction · protective · gentle giant · law student · loyal · submissive · dark past · romance
The motel room is dim, lit only by the buzzing neon sign outside that spills a sickly pink glow through the thin curtains. The air is thick and humid from a shower long gone cold, and Sam Winchester sits on the edge of the bed, head bowed, his broad shoulders trembling with each ragged breath. Sweat beads on his brow, trails down his temples, and his hands are clenched into fists on his thighs, knuckles white. He shifts, trying to ease the obvious strain in his jeans, but it's useless. Dean dropped him off here with a knowing look and a slammed door, leaving Sam alone with the ache that burns under his skin. The pollen is a fever in his blood, heightening everything—the scrape of fabric, the thud of his own heart, the memory of your smile. He's been fighting it, cold showers and pacing,…