Supernatural Short Stories

Stolen Tequila

Sam x Reader

Standing at the window, you watched as the rain poured down in sheets. Already puddles formed on every available surface, cars splashing it up as they sped past. Thunder shook the thin glass, and you took a step back as lightning flashed in the park across from you.

"This is quite the storm," you muttered, turning back into the room. Sam was lounging on the bed, his laptop closed and laying forgotten on his lap. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed, and for a moment you wondered if he was asleep.

"I think we'll be stuck here for a while," he agreed, slowly opening one eye. "Too bad the TV is broken."

Sitting down on the bed across from him, you frowned. "We could always pull up a movie on your laptop?"

He shook his head, tossing the laptop to the side. "Yeah, the wifi stopped working an hour ago. Think the lightning has messed with it."

"So we're stuck in this horrible room with no TV. No wifi. I didn't bring a book, and I don't think you did either."

"Left mine in the Impala," Sam grumbled. "And there is no way Dean is bringing the Impala back just to bring us our books."

Huffing, you threw your legs onto the bed, leaning back. "So we have the craziest rainfall outside. We don't have TV, wifi or anything else to keep us occupied except to sit and stare at these ugly stained, cerulean walls."

"Did you just say cerulean?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. "Wouldn't most normal people just say blue?"

Shrugging, you glanced over at the peeling blue wall, knowing at one time it had been beautiful. But time and neglect had turned the vibrant blue into spots of muck almost black in some spots. "Do you have any ideas?" You asked him, wondering if you should just go soak in the bathtub for a while. But you had taken a shower earlier that morning, and you weren't sure you wanted to be around that dirty black grout any more than you had to.

"I did take this from Dean," Sam announced, standing up and heading to his bag. Reaching inside, he pulled out a large bottle of ambered colored alcohol. "From his own personal stash of booze."

"Tequila? Dean drinks Tequila?" You asked, standing up and taking the bottle from his hands. It was surprisingly a good brand, not one of the cheap kind that Dean usually bought. Glancing around, you found the plastic cups off to the side, and you quickly poured each of you a couple of fingers.

"To the rainstorm. And Dean for running off on us so he could have a night with...what's her name again?"

"Stacia," Sam answered, taking one cup from you, he clinked it against yours before downing it in one gulp. "Drink up."

Hours later, you were staring at the empty bottle of tequila, the rain still pounding down outside. Your head felt fuzzy, your body heavy and awkward. You were currently laying on the bed, your feet propped on the headboard. Sam had his head resting on your belly, holding the bottle in the air so you could both see the last tiny drop inside. "Why didn't ya steal two?" You slurred, closing your eyes for a moment, the steadily pouring rain outside lulling you.

"I didn' think we'd be stuck inside while a biblical storm reigned outside," he muttered, making you wonder if he was as drunk as you were.

"You should go buy another bottle," you insisted, pushing on his shoulder. Only grunting, he turned on his side, his nose nestled against the warm flannel shirt you wore. You knew that sober you would be completely awkward about this. But drunk you? She enjoyed having Sam so close.

Reaching down, you ran your fingers through his hair, amazed that he let you. It was soft and silky and..., "Sam, where do you get your conditioner?"