It's the sound of her name on his lips that drives a shiver down her back, that slides like ice but settles in with a warmth, one much like the fingers that splay over her hip, her thigh. While Faye's outfit has always been one designed to allow easy movement, what she's grateful for now is how much it allows her to feel. His thumbs are calloused, rough, but the touch is still gentle as Faye ends up being the half that's anything but, her hips grinding roughly against his, a breath catching in her throat. "Dean," she whispers before she can fully find her voice, scared of the way it makes her heart lurch, scared of how much she wants him, of how the prospect of being alone scares her more than it has in years. Her teeth tug at his lower lip, before she deepens the kiss again, hooking her fingers around his belt and jerking it close, before her fingers work to deftly unclasp the buckle.

She manages to think better of running her teeth along his jaw, the shape of which she's practically seared into memory, and traces the bridge of her nose along the curve instead. Tugging the zipper roughly down, Faye's hand slipped under his boxers, taking his length in hand, lips momentarily curving into a wicked grin. "Hi there," she smiles, pressing a brief kiss to his lips, searching, tasting him.