Character: Sam
Type: Idk... first kiss
Word Count: 1984 (yes, it's long but I love this one)
"That is the creepiest thing I've ever seen in my life. Some people have way too much money..." I say, my voice laced with vague disgust. I'm just able to catch a glimpse of the painting through the window as we stand outside the auction house in the cold.
It's rare we find a hunt that doesn't involve immediate blood and guts and guns, so I feel a strange kind of gratitude for this case. It's refreshing to take it slow, peruse a fancy auction with fancy drinks and fancy clothes, in order to steal a haunted painting.
The only thing is that, for our plan, Sam and I have to pretend to be married. It went a little like this...
"How are we going to get in without causing any suspicion? They'll probably have a guest list." I pointed out to the Winchesters, perched on the edge of the motel bed.
Dean waved his hand in the air, dismissing me, "I'll make a call, pretend to be someone important, get us on the list. What do you want your names to be?"
I love making up names for undercover hunts, but Sam had to be a buzzkill, "Just use our normal names. I always forget what to call everyone."
"Fine," Dean huffed, and he made the call. Dean is such a good liar it's almost scary. "... yes, that's right. Sam and Y/N Winchester, and best man Dean Winchester. Brother. Uh huh. Thank you. Yes, I agree. Alrighty, bye bye." He hung up with a boyish grin on his face, relishing in the fact he was able to make both me and Sam blush.
I've had the biggest crush on Sam Winchester from the moment I saw him. I mean, who wouldn't? I think he might like me back, or maybe he's just awkward. Either way, I would never want to ruin our close friendship, and we work together. I made the stupid, drunken mistake of telling Dean my feelings and now - at every chance he gets - he tries to embarrass me.
"Yeah... the girl looks like she's staring into my soul," Sam remarks and I'm brought back into the present. Sam offers me his arm. "Shall we, m'lady?" he asks, smiling like a dork.
"And they say chivalry is dead..." I retort with a smile, linking my arm through his, as we step through the entrance, Dean following close behind.
We get in without any problems, but Sam and I need to sell we're just some rich couple who got hitched nearby, looking for some new home decor. Home decor that costs thousands of dollars, but decor, nevertheless.
The auction house is giant and posh, with high ceilings and polished wooden everything. Small tables are dotted around the room, draped in lace tablecloth and littered with champagne flutes. Elegant music wafts through the room and I see Dean roll his eyes. He whispers something incoherent in Sam's ear before turning to me, "Blend in, make yourself trustworthy. I'll kill the lights at 11.30 - that's when you and Sammy grab the painting. Have fun, but not too much fun," he winks before approaching an attractive young woman who is sipping champagne alone. Classic.
When I turn back to Sam, I see his cheeks and ears are a rosy pink already. "Let's get socialising," I say, taking the lead, avoiding any awkwardness. We approach a table where a middle-aged couple stand. I slap Sam gently on the arm as we get closer, "Oh Sammy! 'Girl with a Pearl Earring' was painted by Johannes Vermeer! Look, lets settle this, shall we? Excuse me, hello. My husband here," I smile widely, placing my hand on Sam's chest, "Thinks the 'Girl with a Pearl Earring' was painted by Michelangelo!"
"Oh, well, sir, your wife is correct," Says the stout man, scratching his white beard, "My wife and I always bicker about art. Funnily enough, she's always right too," he winks at Sam, and he returns a polite smile, pulling me subtly closer.
"Oh yes, I am," smiles his wife. She has a kind face, aged only by a few wrinkles, "I'm Polly and this is my husband, Humphrey."
"Sam. Y/N." Sam replies, "Do you two come here often? This is our first time."
"I bet!" Humphrey says heartily, "How old are you two? Early twenties? Polly and I got married at eighteen! Ah, those were the days... couldn't keep our hands to ourselves, always sneaking off... Ah, young love..." he sighs dreamily while Polly giggles.
Sam clears his throat, and I make the mistake of looking at him. He looks as perfect as ever and it makes my heart ache. I'd give anything to be with Sam, but my own judgement is stopping me from making a move.
"Yes, I know what you mean," says Sam, while I still look at him. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I turn back to Polly and Humphrey before I turn the same colour as my lipstick.
We bid them a courteous goodbye and acquaint ourselves with a new couple - a young brother and sister who have recently inherited a large sum of money. "And you've been married how long?" the brother, Miles, asks me. I feel Miles's gaze trailing from my eyes downwards, lingering on my cleavage for a little too long which makes annoyance brew in my stomach.
"Half a year," Sam says, teeth gritted slightly. He puts an arm around my waist.
"Six months..." Miles ponders quietly. I sniff and flash my 'can we get out of here?' eyes at Sam, who immediately understands.
"It was nice meeting you both." Sam says, expressionless.
We leave hastily and Sam pulls me into a quiet corridor. "You okay? That guy is such a creep! If I didn't know any better, I'd -"
"Sam," I say, smiling a little now, "It's fine. Thanks, Sammy. I..." I stop, not knowing what to say.
After a few moments of silence, Sam changes the subject, "I never knew you were such an actress." he smiles playfully.
I laugh, "I try, I try. Nice to know I have a fan." I wink. "We... should probably get back out there. I think they've started."
"Yeah..." Sam agrees uncertainly, rubbing the back of his neck.
He follows me out and we watch the plastic seats quickly fill up. I look at Sam, who is scanning the room for a spare pair of seats. He walks over to Humphrey and Polly, flashing them a big, innocent smile "Hi, again. Do you know if they keep any extra chairs? There doesn't seem to be any free space." I join Sam and when he puts his arm around my waist instinctively, I almost melt.
Humphrey looks at the single spare seat next to him as if the solution is obvious. "The only seat left is this one." he states matter-of-factly, staring at Sam. Sam stares back. Humphrey then turns to me. "Just sit on your husband's lap, dear, nobody here is going to judge you."
Sam clears his throat, his cheeks tinting pink. He sits down and looks at me apologetically, while I scream internally. I carefully sit on his lap, trying to cling on to as much dignity as I can. If Dean sees this, I'll never hear the end of it. Blood drums in my ears when Sam wraps his arms around me. His jaw clenches and unclenches, and I worry if he's hating this.
The auction starts off slow and boring, but honestly, I can't concentrate on anything. Every little shuffle that Sam makes - even just the fall and rise of his chest - I'm hyper-aware of.
I mustn't forget why we're here. I check the time - 11.27.
I shift in place a little, and Sam grabs my wrist. I freeze immediately and he whispers hoarsely in my ear: "Stay still."
I take in a shaky breath. Ice pricks my skin and my eyes dart around the room. "No." Sam breathes. "We're not in danger. It's..."
My eyes widen in realisation when I look down. "Oh my fucking god." I mutter, my skin suddenly lighting on fire.
Without warning, everything goes pitch-black, and I jump off Sam. Still flustered from what just happened, I lunge clumsily for where the painting was. My fingers connect with a cool frame, and I pick it up, sprinting towards the green glow of the 'fire escape'. I hurl it through the door - where hopefully Dean is waiting - and follow the sound of two deliberate coughs, back to Sam.
When the lights turn back on, I'm back in Sam's lap as if nothing happened. I fake confusion, looking around and asking pointless questions to Sam. He plays along and pushes me gently off his lap. Panicked people start to get up, some shouting over the missing painting, some just sitting with baffled expressions. Sam takes my hand and leads me from the room, out into the darkened courtyard.
"Sam, I thought we were meeting Dean by the..." the last word sticks in my throat like glue because Sam has stopped and is staring at me with eyes so intense, so deep, I could drown in them.
I watch his jaw clench. I watch him wrinkle his nose slightly and look somewhere behind me. My eyes betray me, and I glance down at his pants, instantly blushing.
He swallows. "Y/n, I'm sorry about... that. I - I don't really know what to say but," he laughs humourlessly, "Now seems like good a time as any to tell you that, I, urm..."
My heart is beating faster than humanly possible. My eyes are big in anticipation.
"Y/n, if it isn't obvious enough, I like you. And I know -"
"Sam." I cut him off and he looks so nervous, it's endearing. I stand on my tiptoes and place a delicate kiss on his cheek. "I've liked you since the day we met."
Sam's whole body freezes and the tension is palpable. "Sammy, you've gotta say something,"
His face slowly cracks into a small smile, and he leans down as I reach up, our lips grazing softly. Kissing Sam Winchester is exactly how I imagined: electric.
He pulls away but my eyes are still fluttered closed. I'm afraid if I open them, I'll wake up in my room. But I do, and Sam is looking at me intently. Our faces are inches apart and a beat passes before his lips are on mine with a new heat, a new passion that I've never even dreamt of experiencing. He's kissing me like he'll never be able to again, he's devouring me like we're the only ones in the world.
I kiss him back, barely able to breath, but I don't care in the slightest.
"See? Young love," I hear a quiet, fond voice whisper nearby. I pull away from Sam, and see Humphrey and Polly walking past us, hands intertwined. I let out a soft laugh. I turn back to Sam and he takes my hand in his.
Wordlessly, we walk over to the field where we agreed to meet Dean. Dean flashes the headlights at us impatiently, and Sam laughs. Dean leans out of the rolled-down window and shouts, "Took you long enough!"
The creepy people in the stolen painting glare at me as I slide into the backseat. Sam gets in next to me, not in his usual passenger seat. I grin and Dean sighs loudly.
When we pull into the motel parking lot, Dean turns to look at us. "So, I'll get my own room for tonight, okay? Y/n, take my bed. Or don't." he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Huh?" Sam and I say in unison while Dean shakes his head affectionately.
"Come on, man. You haven't let go of her hand the whole way here." he says to Sam and we both blush. Dean smiles triumphantly. "Goodnight."