Sempiternal

There was a knock on her hotel door.

She looked at the clock on the bed stand and sighed. It was almost 4:00 in the morning. She couldn't sleep, her mind was flooded with the events that unraveled in the nightclub earlier. Just when she thought her relationship with Seth was back in order, it fell apart again.

Lucy thought long and hard about why Seth would be angry with her over Dean, and only one thought stuck out among the rest. Something that Dean had been trying to tell her all along; Seth was jealous.

She couldn't believe how oblivious she had been this whole time. Her lifelong best friend had feelings for her. He had always had feelings for her. And she over-looked him because he was her best friend. How could she have been so stupid?

Dean stood on the other side of the door. Lucy watched him for a moment before unlocking the deadbolt and letting him in. His face gave away that he was exhausted, unable to sleep like herself, and hungover. He didn't say anything as he brushed past her, crossing the room to sit on the bed.

He looked like a sad puppy; lost and scared. She sighed, unable to keep up the act that she was mad at him. She walked over and dropped to her knees in front of him, brushing the curls away from his forehead.

"Is Seth mad?" His voice cracked slightly.

"I'm trying not to think about it right now." She replied softly and kissed his chin. "I'm praying that when he wakes up he'll have a killer hangover and won't remember anything."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, let's hope."

She ran a hand down his cheek, lifting his head to meet her gaze. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too hot." He pulled his shirt off revealing dark red and violet bruises across his back and midsection. "That was one hell of a fight."

"Lay on your stomach." She told him, gently pushing him back towards the bed.

Dean obliged without question, resting his head on his hands. Lucy sat on his butt, delicately running her fingers over his battle marks. "Tell me if I'm hurting you okay?"

"Mhm." He groaned.

She ducked her head down to meet his warm skin, and placed tender kisses over each bruise. She kissed his old scars, and as she kissed them, he told her the stories of how he got each one. His life was fascinating to her. He was a fearless soldier, but delicate and fragile. He put up a ice cold front, not letting anyone in. He had Seth and he had Roman, and that was all he needed. Lucy liked to think that she was chipping away at the ice, and that he was allowing her to do so.

"I don't ever want you to be hurt." She whispered in between kisses. "I would rather take a million steel chair shots to my back, than for you to ever be hurt."

He flipped over, causing her to fall onto the bed at his side. He sat up, and with the most serious look in his indigo eyes, he said, "I would never let that happen to you."

Her eyes desperately searched his face for any hint that he was playing her. That this was some sort of dream, that when she woke up, she'd still be in rehab. She didn't want to feel so much for him, not when her best friend felt the same way about her. Her heart was heavy, it was overfilled with affection for this man. It was so full that it felt like it was going to drop right out of her chest.

She kissed him, pulling him on top of her. A hand slid to the crook of her neck, his thumb softly brushing her cheek. The kiss deepened, and it was more passionate, more heated than any kiss they had shared before; paired with the rush of wanting to feel skin on skin. Lucy hands roamed across his muscular exterior, feeling every indention and curve. He pulled away only to quickly pull the long sleeved shirt that was was wearing over her head.

She was exposed, unable to hide the ugly scars that marked her arms. Dean studied them, his fingers trailing across each one. He was no stranger to these kinds of scars. He knew them well. There was a sadness in his eyes as he looked at her, knowing the pain she had to have felt in order for her to turn down that past. But she was more than that. She was the living embodiment of the phrase 'your past does not define you'.

She was sweet, and kind, and forgiving, but most importantly, she was strong. She was stronger that the World's Strongest Man. The drugs didn't overcome her like they had overcome his mother, and his dad, and all of his friends. She grabbed her enemy by the horns, and faced it head on. And he admired that about her.

He held her arm up, meeting it with a soft kiss.

"Dean," a whisper escaped from her lips, but in the silence of the room, it sounded more like a hushed moan. She wanted him. More than she had ever wanted anything.

His hand cupped one of her breasts, taking the nipple in between his teeth ever-so-gently. There was a time and place for him to be rough, and this wasn't it. Her breathing shifted as

he pinched and pulled, taking her other breast into his mouth. She panted, asking him for more. He sat up on his knees, surveying the naked woman in front of him; admiring every curve. Dean toyed with the hem of her boyshorts. He was teasing her, taunting her, wishing she would beg him for it.

He inched the cotton fabric up her thighs, slowly, sadistically feeding on the way her body arched for him to just hurry up. Finally, he tossed the underwear across the room held her legs open, leaving her clit exposed and dripping for him.

She reached her hand down to finger her wet cunt, but he slapped it away, replacing it with his own. He glided the tip of his index finger over her smooth lips before slowly sliding it in her tight body. Lucy threw her head back at the sensation. She couldn't remember the last time she had been touched there. He slid a second finger in, wiggling them back and forth in a hurry, wanting to build her up to the very edge of climax.

Lucy moved her hips with the rhythm of his hand. "Oh my god, Dean."

He leant over her, pulling her into a kiss as he finger-fucked her pussy. His free hand slid his sweats off, leaving his cock hanging in the open. He removed his fingers, and moistened the tip of his cock with her wetness. With her leg hitched over his back, he slid the length of himself into her, pausing for a moment to allow herself to adjust around his size.

"Fuck." He growled into her ear before taking it in his teeth. "You're so fucking tight."

Her eyes rolled back, as he spoke. His voice could get her off, alone, let alone the feeling of his cock completely buried inside her. He pulled out completely, before sliding in once more, repeating himself a few times as he watched her take every inch of him. They fell in sync as their hips moved together.

He placed a hand over her mouth as she moaned, which only added to the excitement for her. She moved both legs over his shoulder, prompting him to go deeper, as deep as he could, and cursed loudly when he hit her cervix. A deep, painful pleasure took over her entire body; setting every nerve on fire. It was too good, too much at one time, and she felt like she was going to implode. "Dean." She moaned between each thrust. "D-don't st-stop."

His movements became quicker, and he replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing her deeply as she climaxed. She moaned loudly into his mouth, which was enough to send him over the edge as he felt her warm cum covering his dick. Her entire body shook, leaving her with a feeling as if she was a piece of butter melting over a warm stack of pancakes.

He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the curve of her neck. "Fuck." She heard in between his heavy breathing.

She smiled to herself, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. A silence fell around them as they caught their breaths. Dean pulled out, not caring about cleaning up, He just want to hold her in his arms and fall asleep.

"I'm going to be sore in the morning." He mumbled, snuggling her closer to him.

She chuckled. "That makes two of us."