Young Sam Drake One Shots

Midnight sleepovers

   "Hey, Y/N," Sam says with an almost exhausted voice as you open the front door. The rain has soaked him completely, as his clothes cling to his body as well as his hair swept back.

It's currently 12:24 am

   "Sam, hey, is everything okay? Come in," you motion for him to step inside. He sighs, and before you close the door after him he asks quietly: "Are your parents home? I don't wanna get you in trouble"

   "No don't worry, they won't be home until Sunday, what's going on?"

Sam sometimes comes to your house for a place to sleep. It's usually because he's too exhausted to drive home on his motorcycle, since your house is closer to his workplace than his own. You don't mind it though - you've been best friends for a pretty long time now, so you're kinda used to his company. And besides - he's always fun to have around. Samuel Morgan sure knows how to make your day.

   "I got caught stealing, the cops know where I live, I need a place to crash. Do you mind if I stay here for a couple of days?" He asks apologetically. He knows it's on a short notice, and that it's his own fault he ended up in this problematic situation, yet he knows you won't say no. Sam saw this as a perfect opportunity too.
The perfect opportunity to talk to you.

   "Of course, stay as long as you want. Jesus, I'm glad you're okay though," you say, stepping closer to him as you hug each other. "You gotta be more careful, I don't want anything bad to happen to you." "Don't worry, nothings ever gonna happen, Y/N, I promise," he kisses the top of your head. "Ugh, you're soaked," you try to break out of the hug as the water is soaking through your shirt as well, but Sam keeps you close to his chest and starts laughing. You give up and instead enjoy his strong arms around your shoulders, not even caring that your shirt probably has a big wet mark on it by now.

   "Aw Sam you're soaking my shirt," you say in a defeated tone, looking up at him. He looks at you with a smile. Shortly after, Sam looks at the door with the usual cocky smirk of his before looking back at you.

   He quickly bends down and picks you up bridal style, opening the front door and bringing you out in the rain. "Sam! What are you doing?!" You can't decide if you're annoyed or amused by the sudden actions he's pulling on you. The heavy rain splashes onto both of you as he lets you down and takes both of your hands, putting your left hand on his shoulder, subsequently putting his own hand on your waist, the other one holding your free hand. "Y'know how to dance right?" He asks with a grin through the loud raindrops. "Well— a little bit I guess," you say, but before you could protest against it, Sam already starts stepping back, then to the side, front, side, back, side and so on. And before you know it, you're dancing in the rain with Sam, not even caring about your soaked clothes nor hair. You're both having the time of your life, and you honestly couldn't feel happier. Who knew that a rainy midnight was all you needed to pep up your day?

   After some time, you both stepped inside in your soaking wet clothes, water dripping everywhere on the floor. It's good that your parents aren't home - you would've definitely gotten in trouble for that.

   "There's no way I'm not gonna get a cold from this," you say, trying to get the most of the water out of your hair and clothes, Sam is too. He laughs at your comment. "Then I'll stay and make you feel better if that's the case," his Boston accent hits you as he tilts your chin up with a click with his tongue. Sure you've noticed his accent before - it was actually one of the first things you noticed about him. But for some reason, his words keep echoing in your ears as they repeatedly for each word heat up your body.

   "I'll get us some towels," you say as you leave the room in fear of blushing in front of him - and because well... you both severely needed those towels. And as you stepped into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, you discover that yes, you were in fact blushing.