You hadn’t even seen the storm coming. One minute, the four of you were driving up the winding mountain road, the early evening sky painted in hues of pink and orange, and the next, the horizon was swallowed by gray clouds. The rain started as a drizzle, but by the time you reached the inn, it was a full-blown downpour, complete with howling winds and the occasional crack of thunder.

"Guess we’re not making it to the cabin tonight," Sam said, pulling his hoodie tighter as the four of you sprinted through the rain to the inn’s entrance. You barely noticed the bell jingling over the door as you stepped inside, soaked and shivering. The cozy warmth of the lobby was a welcome relief, the fireplace crackling softly in the corner.

The relief didn’t last long. "Two rooms," the innkeeper said, barely looking up from her knitting. "That’s all we’ve got left."

You felt Dean’s gaze land on you then, the weight of it making you acutely aware of the tension that had been simmering since the trip began. He’d been mostly quiet during the drive, occasionally throwing sarcastic comments your way, but now, his smirk returned. "Looks like we’re bunking up, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with amusement. You groaned inwardly. Sharing a room with Dean Winchester was one thing. Sharing a bed?