Supernatural Imagines

Sam

I realize I've done nothing of Cas and soooo much Sam! Expect more Dean and Cas soon! Anyways here's a Sam oneshot and thanks for reading!

"Sam?" you said unsurely, approaching the table where he sat and stared at the screen of his laptop. He made a small noise of acknowledgement, his mouth otherwise muffled by the way he was leaning against his hand, frowning in concentration. You took a seat diagonal to him, your fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on your knees and your eyes flitting from side to side. "I have something to tell you..." He stayed silent so you assumed he was all ears.

"I like you."

Sam blinked and stopped typing, glancing at your bed. Your eyes were closed and you smacked your lips together before rolling over so that your back faced him, all while sleeping. Had he heard you right?

Tomorrow, the three of you would be hitting the road. The hunt was finished and Dean suggested staying another night just to recuperate. He left this morning to amuse himself while Sam stayed behind to answer some emails. Both brothers decided to let you sleep in. Sam was used to hearing you talk in your sleep on nights where you were particularly exhausted, so it usually happened the night a monster was taken care of, but you mostly murmured about food or past friends that were annoying you, and the occasional dinosaur. Never...

You tensed in your bed and opened your eyes, blinking up at the motel room's ceiling before sitting upright. You ran a hand through your hair and glanced at Sam, who smirked at you. You blinked again, confused, but found him smiling at you this time. What had he been smirking about?

"So, we've got the day off," he said, shutting his laptop and turning to face you in his wooden chair, the window alight behind him. "Got anything you wanna do?"

"Not really," you said, clearing your throat. You pushed the blanket off you and hobbled to the bathroom. "Let me clean up and then we can get something to eat."

Nodding, he went back to answering emails, somewhat comforted by the hum of the shower. When it screeched off, he couldn't help but glance over the top of his laptop at you, exiting in a towel with steam curling through your legs. You hated getting dressed in a hot, stuffy bathroom while still damp so the boys had gotten used to you hanging about in your towel until you picked an outfit to wear and the bathroom had been aired out.

You glanced up. "Sam, have you seen—" You stopped when you saw that he was looking you up and down. Blinking, you quickly turned around, hot with embarrassment. Had he been checking you out? And shamelessly, too. He hadn't even looked away when you caught him. Clearing your throat, you scuttled into the bathroom to change, your skin crawling with the feeling that his eyes were still on you.
Once you were ready, Sam turned off his laptop and shrugged on a jacket. "Dean took the car, so I guess we're walking," he said, opening the motel room door.

You shrugged. "That's fine with me." You pulled the hair from inside the collar of your jacket and walked through the door, which he had been holding open for you. You smiled at that. Sam was very good when it came to manners. However, when you felt him place a hand on the small of your back, it took everything you had not to tense. He had never done that before.

"To the coffee shop?" he asked, unaware of how he was making you feel. Or, maybe he was, because when you looked up at him, that smirk from this morning was playing along with his lips, threatening to take over the smile he'd planted.

"Um, yeah..." you said unsurely, turning away. It was normal to go somewhere other than the local diner when Dean was absent but today in particular didn't feel normal at all.
The cafe you chose was small, with wooden floorboards and dark brown walls, decorated with rustic ornaments. The pastries they served were very in tune with their French heritage and the barista seemed to knowledgable about all things coffee, recommending you the types of beans and blends that tasted best with each style.

When you were seated with your order, you and Sam looked over the paper. He brought out a pen from his pocket and smiled. "Wanna do the crossword together?"

"Sure," you chirped, even though you didn't enjoy it as much as he. You did not often understand the clues and sometimes it made you wonder if Sam thought you weren't smart enough for him. Your troubled thoughts dissolved when you felt something brush against your calf. You looked under the table and realised it was Sam's leg, lazily dragging up and down your own, so imperceptible that no one else in the shop noticed. "Sam," you murmured, flushing deeply.

With the pen between his teeth, his eyes flickered up to meet yours, innocent. "Something wrong?"

"Er..." You wanted to ask him why he was acting so strange but the words would not leave. Hearing them out loud would only embarrass you further, but it had to be done. "You've been...acting weird."

He took the pen from his lips and put it down on the table as he straightened. "How so?" he asked curiously.

You looked around and then leaned forward, almost like you were conspiring in secrecy. "Are you flirting with me?" you whispered.

He stared and your heart jumped into your throat. Oh no. You'd been wrong. You had just made the biggest fool of yourself. He probably thought you were an idiot now. Any second he would burst out laughing and—

"Yes."

What?

You blinked at him and then started when he took your hand. His was so big compared to yours but it was warm and his skin was that endearingly manly type of rough-soft that made your insides melt. "This morning, in your sleep," he began, wanting to smile, "you said you liked me."

"Oh," you said, unsure what else you could respond with. Unable to meet his gaze, you eyed the way he held your fingers, like a prince did before he pressed his lips to the princess' knuckles.

"I like you, too, you know," he said.
You looked up at him in shock. "You do?"

"Why are you so surprised?" He clutched your hand tighter.

"I-I don't know..."

Standing, he disposed of your meal and led you outside, tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow. "I've liked you for a while," he admitted as you walked down the footpath. "I just didn't know whether to tell you or let our relationship grow on its own." He glanced down at you, eyes warm and loving. "You're my best friend."

"Me, too," you murmured shyly.

Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he tilted your face up so that he could bend and press his lips to yours. Your hands fell to his chest and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tugged you into him. He was painted with the smell of coffee and the faint cologne he'd put on in the morning. You played with the hair on the back of his neck and felt him smile into the kiss. You couldn't help but smile back.