Work Text:
throughout his life, sam winchester has never really had an all-out celebration of new year's. sure, when he was a kid, sam would stay up with dean and they'd watch the fireworks from the nearest town out of their motel window, and when he'd grown older, he and dean would share a beer. but, right now? sam had been dragged to a party.
this isn't exactly sam's scene, but it certainly is yours. you'd checked if he was okay with going to your friend's new year's party a million times in the last couple days, and he'd assured you every time.
i'll be fine, baby. any friend of yours is a friend of mine. and if i get awkward, i'll just go hide in the kitchen.
of course, sam is okay with accompanying you to the party, but he's never felt more out of place. sam, being slightly older than you, is then older than everybody in this apartment. on top of that, he's huge, and he feels like he takes up too much space, especially as he trails after you like a lost puppy.
you don't really notice the 6'4 shadow that is now following you, too buzzed and happy to be around your friends. you really do flourish in social situations, not that sam had doubted that for a second.
the flush of your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes - sure, consequences of the countless glasses of champagne that you've knocked back, but you just seem so effortlessly happy.
it makes sam's heart twinge without guilt, knowing that his life, being a hunter, would make you so isolated. obviously, you, dean and sam are on the road sometimes, but not as much as the brothers used to be. sam's slowed down his pace, instead wanting to be as serious as he can with you.
which even includes having a drawer of his clothes and his spare toothbrush in your apartment.
he just doesn't want to ruin your life. especially this aspect of it, where it seems that everything wrong with the world, everything that sam is involved in as a hunter, is kept outside of the four walls.
eventually, he blinks himself out of his thoughts, watching you talk to your friend... clara? or chloe? sam has lost track. he bends down and kissed your cheek from behind, squeezing your shoulders with his big hands.
“just gonna go get a drink.” sam mutters, and you nod, squeezing his hand before going back to your conversation, your face lively and your arms gesticulating wildly.
sam pushes through the group of people towards the kitchen. he's not actually going to get a drink, but a moment of quiet might be nice.
he grabs a red solo cup and fills it with tap water, taking a sip of that and breathing out slowly. glancing around the room, he notices that it's only ten to midnight. the start of a new year. a long one, he hopes. one that isn't filled with blood and death and grief.
he looks down at his boots on the floor, tapping them restlessly against the hardwood. glitter covers the floorboards, along with an array of multicoloured balloons and fallen down streamers.
he crouches down to grab the banner saying ‘happy new year's!’ to return it to its place against the kitchen cabinet, picking it up and sticking it back up there with blu tack.
when he turns back around, you're stood right in front of him, looking up at him with a inquisitive face.
he startles a little, bumping his hip against the kitchen counter that corners him in. you also corner him in, putting a hand on your hip with drunken sassiness that makes sam have to suppress a smirk.
“you didn't even come here to get a drink.” you frown at him, to which sam smiles sheepishly and presents his red solo cup of water.
you roll your eyes. “i didn't think you'd actually end up in here.” you say, before concern crossed your face. “am i leaving you out? i didn't want you to feel left out. my friends like you, they do! i just haven't seen them in a while, and i got so caught up-"
sam cuts off your rambling with a press of his finger to your lips, silently shushing you. “hey. don't worry your pretty head. i'm okay, sweetheart. i like your friends, too. i'm just not a social butterfly like you.”
you brush his hand away from your mouth, but plant a kiss on his scarred knuckles anyway. “i just don't want you to feel out of place. i'm sorry. i should've been paying more attention.”
he immediately shakes his head. “don't you say that. you see me all the time. i want you to see your friends, that's why i wasn't trying to get your attention. i'm happy you're here. i'm happy i'm here.”
“you are?” you ask, hopefully.
“of course.” sam insists. “you're in your element, baby. look at you. you're glowing. i'm happy that you're happy, that's all that matters to me.”
you half heartedly push him away, the drunkenness and his sweet words making you emotional. “stop that.” you scoff, shaking your head.
sam huffs out a laugh, pulling you closer to him and planting a kiss on your hairline, brushing his thumbs under your eyes to remove the smudges mascara and glitter eyeshadow. he noticed your high heels that hang in your hands and takes them off of you, holding them for you.
you smile brightly up at him, despite the glossiness of your eyes. there's a click of a polaroid camera to sam's left, and he's soon handed the picture before another one is taken, for a scrapbook, he assumes, from the drunken shouting of all your friends.
you giggle, looping your arm around sam and kicking a pink balloon away from your feet.
“one minute!” sam hears someone shout from the living room, and you squeal, grabbing sam's hand and dragging him back to the edges of the large group of people.
on tv, the news shows times square, with a countdown on it. sam tucks your hair behind your ear, smiling at you brighter than he has in a while.
“ten, nine-” everyone starts to shout, and you and sam join in. you practically vibrate with excitement next to your boyfriend, hanging onto his arm.
he watched you as he counts down, admiring your otherworldly beauty. god might've put you here especially for him, to save him from himself.
yeah, maybe. if god was that kind.
or maybe, you're just you. you're an explosion of light and happiness in sam's dark world, illuminating the darkest corners of the universe, painting his world in colour and laughter.
when the countdown hits one, and you both shout “happy new year!” sam loops his arms around you and presses his lips to yours, the world going quiet for one long, divine moment.
your arms wrap around the back of his neck, your bodies pressing together as you both close your eyes. you grin against the kiss, pulling back and opening your eyes.
“i love you.” sam mutters, only loud enough for you to hear over the buzzing in your ears and the shouts of all your friends.
“i love you too.” you whisper like it's a great big secret, and as if it isn't clear in every smile you give him.
“i know, baby.” he hums. “and happy new year's.”