Jack's Motel

Faithless

I giggled, and rolled over to face Scott's smiling face. His eyes met mine, and we both smiled wider. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

His hands glided over my arms, my stomach, my thighs. His rough fingertips tickled my skin gently. They stopped over my forearm, his thumb brushing back and forth over the cut that was just starting to scar over. I'd refused stitches, it wasn't that bad anyways.

"I'm sorry."

"Scott, stop." I reached over and took his chin in my hands, forcing him to look up at me. "It's a casualty of the job." He nodded, avoiding the discussion and sat up. He threw his arms out to the side and behind his neck, stretching his limbs. His muscles rippled from the movements.

Sam avoided the discussions about "casualties of the job". He tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal to him, me being a hunter. He pretended that it didn't bother him as much when I was hurt, because he knew I could deal with it. But I knew why he really steered away from the topic. It was because of Alex. His best friend, my boyfriend — ex-boyfriend.

Alex and I would spend hours, nights, days screaming at each other about me being a hunter. He always seemed to forget that I'd known this life before I knew him, but that didn't seem to matter. Anytime I got hurt on a hunt, whether it was a small cut or a bullet wound, we'd spend the next few days away from the bunker or screaming at each other. I knew it was because he cared, but it was the toughest part of our relationship. And Scott knew that. So he tried to avoid it altogether.

Any discussion of Alex really, was avoided. Neither of us had said his name aloud around the other, instead using pronouns to refer to the eldest of us.

It had been five weeks since my first kiss with Scott in that motel room, and it had been magical. I was happier than I'd been in months, and the thought scared me. Scott and I just fit. It felt right with him, but there was still Alex. My Alex who would do anything for me, my best friend. And here I was, falling for his best friend. I tried to pretend that finding him was just part of another case. I hoped maybe then, with that distance, the guilt would fade away. But I couldn't forget Alex that easily.

Scott stood up, the bed groaning from the shift of weight. He grabbed an abandoned flannel from the floor and shrugged it over his shoulders.

"Where are you going?" I asked him playfully, sitting up and crawling towards him on my knees. Scott turned around and shot me a grin. He leaned forward and kissed me again. He pulled away, his mouth still inches from my own. My eyes were focused on his lips, flickering back and forth between them and his eyes.

"Kirst'll be here soon-"

"Kirstin can wait." I grabbed a fistful of his flannel and pulled him towards me with surprising strength. Soon enough, his lips were engaged with my own in a lustful exchange. I had just managed to unbutton the top button of his shirt when there was a loud crash that echoed down the hall.

The crash came from the kitchen, where a faint whoosh could be discerned. At the sound of clashing silverware, Scott and I tensed before he stood up from the bed and rebuttoned his flannel. I groaned and fell back onto the sheets.

"Dammit, Kirstie," Scott chuckled and leaned over the bed, pressing a light kiss to my forehead. He lingered there for a second before pulling away as I said, "I'll meet you out there." He nodded and grabbed his jeans from the end of the bed, pulling them on and leaving the room.

I stayed where I was for a few minutes, trying to give enough time between Scott and I's entrances. Finally, I stood, throwing the covers to the side. I slipped one of my own big shirts over my head and made my way out of Scott's room and to the kitchen. But the sound of Kirstin's light voice made me stop around the corner to eavesdrop.