Work Text:
Sam checked the clock with a deep sigh, trying not to feel worried or upset at your delay. You’d say you’d be home by nine, but the staff had been so limited at the hospital that you were forced to linger there, and it was already 15 past midnight.
When the Pandemic hit, Sam was able to just move his work from the office to a study room in your house, but you weren’t so lucky. As an ER doctor, you worked restless hours weekly with people, sometimes even COVID-19 patients, and while he was proud of you, he also knew everything was very tiring for you – and it certainly was worrisome for him.
It was Valentine’s Day. Not that it made any change for you two – this year, you were going to spend it working and helping people, and he was left home alone half of the week. Today was one of those days.
Sam’s eyes moved up when he heard the key turning on the front door, and he stood up, finding you entered the room and kicking your shoes out of the way.
“Hey,” you shed your jacket and took off the cap that protected your hair, reaching for the alcohol 70% and spraying over your purse, rubbing and cleaning it before putting it down, and he stood up, rubbing his hands on his own shirt. “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m-...”
“It’s okay,” he assured you, walking to your direction and reaching for your hand. “Can I?”
You gave him a sad smile and sprayed your hands with alcohol, rubbing it for the right time before letting him hold it and kiss it.
“I’ll shower,” you told him. “And then you can.”
His face lightened up for a song, and he was quick to squeeze your hand.
“Hey, do you mind using the corridor’s bathroom?” he asked. “There are towels there and everything you need. And then you can come to ours.”
You frowned, tilting your head, but Sam just squeezed your hand a little more, giving you his famous puppy eyes.
“Please,” he asked. “Trust me.”
You continued to look at him for a moment, but gave in.
“Okay,” you nodded. “I’ll go.”
Sam smiled and kissed your hand, scenting and tasting the alcohol in your hand before releasing you.
“Go on,” he pushed to you forward. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
You complied, following to the bathroom in the corridor, and Sam walked to your bedroom and shared suit, searching around your drawers and placing a trio of scented candles around the room, filling up the bathtub and lighting them up after, preparing fluffy towers and robes, and your favourite shampoo, conditioner and body oils to at least try to relax you, and he raised his eyes to you when you walked into the room wrapped in only a towel.
“Hey,” he smiled, standing up, and talking to you. “No I can kiss you, right?”
You smiled and didn’t verbally answer, but put your arms over his shoulders, and kissed Sam, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in deep
“I missed you,” he muttered, holding your tightly in his arms.
“I missed you too,” you breathed in his scent. “What are you doing there?”
Sam pulled away, and turned you around, showing the bathroom and kissing your naked shoulder.
“Your bath is ready, Doctor Winchester,” he whispered into your ear.
You turned to your husband, raising an eyebrow and at him and, Sam just tickled your side.
“Come on,” he kissed your cheek. “Get in.”
You let your towel fall at your feet, and he held you hand, helping you step into the tub and lay down, resting your neck and head onto a pillow, and he gently pulling your hair away from the bum you had put it up on, and caressed it gently.
“Do you want me to wash your hair?” he offered.
You shook your head.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you told him. “Don’t want to go to bed with it wet.”
Sam nodded, and just caressed and massaged your scalp before braiding your hair and pinning it up like you’d done before, taking a sponge liquid soap, cleaning your skin before reaching for rose oil and covering the skin of your shoulders with you before massaging them gently, and moving down your beautiful breasts, squeezing them and making you laugh.
“Sam,” you giggled.
“No funny business, baby,” he kissed your earlobe. “Don’t worry.”
You yawned, grinning a bit.
“But I love funny business,” you told him.
Sam laughed.
“I love funny business too,” he kissed your cheek. “But not after a fear 48-hour shit.”
You moved a bit on your place, and he could see your eyelids heavy in tiredness.
“I’m not that tired,” you – obviously – lied.
He chuckled. He knew how much you wanted to spend Valentine’s Day doing something at least a little bit romantic, but life hadn’t helped you two, and Sam would prioritise your well being above any sex.
“Tomorrow,” he promised, standing up and taking more of the oil. “Let me see your legs, baby.”
You complied, raising them above the water, and Sam had to stop himself from ogling your naked body as much as he wanted to, massaging your muscles and moving to your arms, covering them in the rose scented product and continuing his ministrations until you were gently snoring, and he chuckled when he noticed.
“Baby,” he called, caressing your cheek. “Baby, wake up.”
You blinked, waking up in surprise and giving him a confused look.
“I fell asleep,” you realised, and he grinned.
“You did,” your husband agreed. “Come on, let’s get you up.”
You stood up, and he helped as you dried your body with the towels he put down for you, and blew the scented candles before picking you up and making you yelp.
“Sam!” you exclaimed.
“Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and you wrapped your hands around his neck, allowing him to lay you down onto the bed, completely naked, and undressed down to his underwear, wrapping his arms around your waist and scooping you close.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered into your ear.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you muttered, resting your face on his chest. “Thank you for everything, Sam.”
He squeezed you tighter.
“No need to thank me, baby,” he whispered. “Just sleep. We’ll celebrate tomorrow, okay?”
You nodded.
“Okay.”