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samsexualdeancurious · 2 years

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Set Sail | Chapter Two (NSFW) (FIN)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2,167

Summary: Sam and Y/N go on a couples cruise for a case. The only issue? There's actually no case - thank you, Dean Winchester - and they're not actually a couple. Yet.

Warnings: Fluff, light smut in Chapter Two

Written for an Archangel patron's request.

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Amanda’s plan starts simply enough - share the bed and see what happens. Your stomach does a little flip at the thought but you think you can manage that.

You and Sam decide to pass the day with Amanda and Henry. They seem more familiar with the workings of the ship and cruises in general, which is nice because you have no fucking clue what to expect. Plus, the two of them are easy to be around.

It’s refreshing, honestly, to talk to people who don’t know about the supernatural and have no reason to ever bring it up. You pull out a few of your go-to jobs when it comes up - contractor for Sam, accountant for you. Easy, boring, and no one asks too many questions. Usually. Henry wants some advice on a home project he’s been doing and you’re surprised at how knowledgeable Sam is on the subject. You know Dean worked construction when Sam was in Hell, forever and ever ago, but you had no idea that Sam was equally capable.

You can’t help watching those long-fingered hands as Sam gestures about whatever it is he explaining over the dinner table and think about all the other things they’re capable of doing. You’ve seen Sam handle everything from monsters to crying family members to guns to puppies with those same hands. They’re just like the man himself - strong, yet capable of incredible gentleness. Warmth blossoms in your chest at the thought.

You tear your eyes away from Sam’s hands to find Amanda watching you with a knowing smirk and feel your cheeks burn. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t notice. He may be a really smart man but he’s also more than a little oblivious most days.

Hopefully, he’s not too oblivious.

After dinner, the four of you go back out on the deck for a few evening drinks. The view is gorgeous and you’ve seen some great views. There’s no land in sight but the stars. You’ve only seen that many stars in a few places before but there’s nothing quite like the way they reflect off the smooth surface of the ocean, the thick line of the Milky Way only broken when the breeze ruffles the water.

“Maybe this whole thing isn’t so bad,” you whisper to Sam, letting Amanda and Henry get ahead of you as they beeline towards a set of couches that look like they’ll have a good view of the water.

Sam murmurs his agreement. He’d offered you his arm when you left the dinner table and you’d looped your own through it without thinking. Now, you look up to find that his eyes aren’t on the view at all. They’re on you.

As soon as you lock eyes with him, though, Sam looks away. His cheeks are adorably pink in the low lighting.

Huh. Amanda had been very sure of herself earlier but there was still a part of you that didn’t believe her. Maybe she was right.

The two of you don’t actually get back to your room until near midnight. You’re both a little tipsy, leaning on each other as Sam fumbles with the key card. He’s smiling, lighter than you’ve seen in months, and has one arm slung casually around your shoulders. Your own arm is fitted around his waist, both to hold yourself up and to keep him balanced. It’s not an ideal situation, with Sam being so large, but you make it work.

The room is exactly as you left it and a wave of exhaustion hits you as soon as the bed comes into view. You stumble forward, dragging Sam along with you, and then let go of him to get your shoes off.

“I’ll take the couch,” Sam says, an echo of his statement from earlier, and he looks surprised when you shake your head.

“It’s a king,” you reply, sinking to the floor because there’s no way you can get the tiny buckle on your heels done while using one hand to steady yourself against the wall. “We can share.”

“You’re sure?” Sam asks, toeing off his own shoes before filling two glasses of water from the bathroom sink. He downs one glass, helps you up with his now-free hand, and then gives you the other. “We don’t have to.”

“I know. I don’t mind. It’s a week-long trip, Sam. I’m not making you sleep on that tiny couch for a week when there’s plenty of room for two in the bed.” You drink some of the water while rummaging in your chosen drawer for some PJs. You’d packed in a hurry and are more than a little embarrassed to find that you only brought one of your oversized nightshirts. It’s not like Sam hasn’t seen you in them before but still.

“If you’re really okay with it.” Sam refills his glass of water and sets it on the nightstand closest to the door. “You can have the bathroom first.”

The two of you get changed for bed, Sam out in the bedroom and you behind the closed bathroom door. The light buzz from the drinks you had is fading by the time you’re finally ready for bed and you’re feeling much more nervous about sharing a bed with Sam. It’s not like you haven’t slept in close quarters before - the backseat of the Impala or, on one memorable occasion, the tiniest tent on the planet where all three of you had been more than a little squished - but those times were different. This situation is different.

Your feelings are different.

As you lay side-by-side with Sam in the dark, just listening to him breathe, you can’t help but wonder when your feelings for him changed. You can’t pinpoint an exact moment, no matter how hard you think about it, but you know it happened. One day, Sam was just your best friend, and the next… well, he’s still your best friend. The best friend you’ve ever had, really. Except maybe Linda way back in high school and fuck. You haven’t thought about Linda in years. You should see about checking up on her. Maybe she and Mark finally got their heads out of their asses and got married. What would she think if she could see you now? What would she say?

As you turn your head to see Sam lying next to you, breathing slow and even, that gorgeous profile highlighted by moonlight trickling through a crack in the curtains, you can almost hear her voice in your head.

“You’re both idiots.”

She was never good at listening to her own advice.

You don’t remember falling asleep but you must have because you wake up snuggled against solid warmth, nose pressed to sleep-warm skin. You yawn and sigh and stretch your legs, rolling your ankles. Your pillow makes a soft grumbling sound and you feel an arm tighten around your waist.

Oh, shit.

You open your eyes, blinking against the sunlight peeking through the curtains. Sam sighs, chest rising and falling under your head as he does, and your cheeks burn as you realize exactly what’s going on. You were cuddling with Sam in your sleep.

Your mind races with possibilities. Yes, you’d agreed to Amanda’s idea of sharing a bed but you hadn’t really… considered the possibilities of what would happen after that point. Amanda had implied something more than cuddling with a wiggle of her eyebrows that had your cheeks burning as you rolled your eyes but you’re not sure if that’s going to be in the cards.

After a moment of consideration, you make the decision to at least get up and go to the bathroom. Your head isn’t hurting too bad and your stomach feels surprisingly okay, considering how rough your first day on the ship was. Your bladder, on the other hand, is making itself known.

When you try to move, though, Sam’s arm tightens around your body. You freeze and hear Sam chuckle softly.

“Mornin’,” he rumbles, voice low and husky with sleep.

“Hi,” is all you can muster in response as you lift your head to find him watching you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I don’t mind,” Sam interrupts. “I really don’t mind, as long as you don’t.”

Words fail you at that and you stare at him for a second, processing what he just said. Unfortunately, you hesitate just long enough for Sam’s expression to shift to one of doubt. His grip on you loosens.

“If you don’t-”

You shake your head, stopping him in his tracks. “I do,” you say, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips. “I do. Really. I just also need to pee.”

Sam blinks at you, a little stunned, and then laughs. “All right, then.”

“I’ll come right back,” you promise.

He gives you a little nudge. “Okay.”

You make it quick and soon enough, you’re stepping back into the bedroom. You hesitate on the edge of the bed and just look for a moment, taking in the sight before you.

Sam is beautiful. That’s something you’ve been fully aware of for a long time. But right now, with his fair mussed from sleep and a line from his pillow on his cheek, sunlight warm on his bare chest and arms… he’s absolutely stunning.

“Take a picture,” Sam teases, all dimples.

You laugh softly and crawl up onto the bed, fitting yourself into his embrace when he opens his arms to you. Sam makes a happy little sound as you settle against his chest again.

“I like this,” he murmurs, one hand coming up to settle between your shoulder blades. “I like this a lot.”

“I do, too,” you admit. And you do. It feels so natural, so right, to be pressed close to Sam with sheets tangled around your legs.

Sam tilts his head to meet your gaze and you can see the question in his eyes before he asks it. “Are we on the same page here?”

You rub your palm over his tattoo, the same one you have etched into the back of your shoulder inches from where his hand rests. “On the ‘we’re both idiots and it shouldn’t have taken an intervention from Dean Winchester to realize it’ page?”

Sam laughs, loud in the quiet room, and you giggle along with him. “Yeah,” he says when he’s caught his breath. “Yeah, that page.”

“Definitely.”

His smile softens at that and he brings his hand up to cradle your cheek in the curve of his palm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sam’s lips are soft against your own, his hand huge as it curls around the back of your head. You lift up, shifting higher on the bed so Sam doesn’t have to crane his neck to kiss you.

“Why the hell did we wait so long to do this?” Sam wonders, short nails scratching gently against your scalp and sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Because we’re idiots,” you reply with a soft laugh, grinning when he chuckles. You glance over at the clock. 8:30. Breakfast goes until 10:30, you know. You remember because you were surprised by that late hour when you saw it on the schedule, being used to either hotels that only serve it until 9 or motels that don’t serve breakfast at all. Plenty of time for at least some kissing. Maybe a little more than that, if Sam’s feeling up to it.

“We are,” he agrees and then he pulls you to straddle his hips. You make a surprised sound at the move and brace yourself with your elbows on either side of his head. “This okay?”

“Very,” you assure him and Sam pulls you down into another kiss.

Things escalate quickly from there. Your nightshirt is pushed up and off, Sam’s pajama pants are shoved down along with the blankets. Skillful fingers find their way between your thighs, pushing your panties aside and spreading your folds to find where you’re already slick.

“Sam,” you gasp, breaking the kiss when he slides his thumb over your clit.

“I gotcha,” is his response, words spoken in a low tone that sends a shiver up your spine. “Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart.” He tips his chin up to catch your lips in a messy kiss. “Gotta catch up for lost time, right?”

You laugh against his mouth and nod, grinding your hips down against his hand. You can feel his cock, hard and hot against your thigh, and just the knowledge that he’s as turned on as you are has your body clenching around his fingers. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

It is a good plan. It’s a very, very good plan. When the two of you eventually make it down to breakfast, you’ll have to let Amanda know that her plan was also a very good one. For now, though, your focus is on the gorgeous man beneath you in the bed.

You may also have to thank Dean later.

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