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19 May 2009 @ 10:50 pm
852 words

notes: for musesfool. ♥

When he gets back to the apartment the back door is open. He sets dinner down on the table, hoping that when he gets back to it, it won’t be cold. He calls her name and she doesn’t answer, but he knows she can hear him through the screen door. He moves further through the kitchen, and he can see her bare back, and he worries a little bit about what the neighbors are going to say.

“Sam,” he calls as he makes it to the back door. The screen door squeaks when he pushes it open. It’s still raining, and there’s no cover back here; she’s dripping wet and shivering. She’s standing there in her underwear – periwinkle or something that she begged him to get for her two towns back because she was sick of granny panties – and his worry kicks into something like panic. “Sam,” he says again and touches her arm. Her skin is wet and cold.

She looks over her shoulder at him, wet hair clinging to her face and raindrops clinging to her eyelashes. She doesn’t say anything when she turns back to stare out at the muddy backyard. Dean turns her around, hand warm on her shoulder; she’s naked in the rain except for her underwear. Her nipples are drawn into tight peaks from the cold, her lips a little blue.

“Sammy,” Dean says softly. “What are you doing?” He’s taking his jacket off then and putting it around her shoulders.

“Don’t be mad,” she says, and he can tell she’s been crying, is still crying. She looks up at him with watery eyes. “He was nice to me, and he said I was pretty. I didn’t mean to.”

“What are you talking about?” He asks, confused.

“We’ve been working together at school, and studying at the library, and I felt normal and… I’m so sorry, Dean.” She was shaking her head.

“Sammy,” he says softly. He touches her face, smoothes her wet hair away from her face. “You couldn’t have done anything so bad that – “

“I slept with him,” she whispers, fresh tears making tracks down her cheeks. “I slept with him – in our room, in our bed, and I…God, I’m so sorry.” She’s shaking her head.

“Shh,” Dean says softly. He kisses her lips – they’re wet with cool rainwater, salty with tears, and cool – and he does it as much for her as for himself. He wants to chase away the taste of anyone else and taste her. She slips her hands under his tee shirt, wet now, too, and her hands are cold against his warm skin; she pulls him against her and he can feel her hard nipples through his shirt. He follows her until she bumps against the brick wall, and her hands drop to his belt.

He breaks away from her mouth, barely a breath apart, and looks down at her. “Sammy, not here.”

“Yes,” she says softly. “Yes, here. Right here – make me forget what I did.”

He is angry, but not with her – he’s angry that he couldn’t make her feel what she wanted to feel, that she had to fuck someone else. He moves back in and attacks her mouth. He can make her forget – they’ve always been good at making each other forget. She pulls at his belt, rips it open, and shoves at his pants. He’s already half hard for her and hisses when her cold hands wrap around his heated flesh. He doesn’t push her panties down while she works his cock with her hands; he rips the sides instead – first the right and then the left – and drops the mangled fabric on the ground. Rainwater drips in his eyes.

She pushes his jeans and boxers down, and he hitches her up, up the brick wall. He doesn’t even give her a second, just slides right in. She gasps loud, and tips her head back against the wall. “Oh God, Dean, please.”

He’s not nice or gentle; he fucks into her harder than he usually does, but he knows this is what she’s asking for. She has both legs wrapped around his waist, making soft noises in her throat, and biting at the curve of his neck. Each thrust drives her up the wall, and when he pulls back she slides back down; there will be angry, red scrapes all over her back – he’ll clean them later, put antibiotic ointment on them, and tell dad she’s going through a phase when dad tells her to put a bra on and she doesn’t.

He can feel her shudder, nails digging into her shoulders. “Please,” she whispers. He leans all of his weight into her and bites at her lips. She’s coming and crying out, legs squeezing his waist, nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Sammy, shit,” he groans into her neck, and he’s coming too – hard and quick, so good it’s almost painful. She rests her head down on his shoulder, face turned in toward his neck.

She doesn’t say thank you, but she whispers “I love you”. They’re both shaking.

peeps wanna see peeps boink: you were not mine to savemusesfool on May 20th, 2009 02:59 am (UTC)
Aw, Sammy. *pets them both* This is heartbreaking and lovely. Thank you.
bury me in memoryephemerall on May 20th, 2009 03:11 am (UTC)
thank you. and you're welcome.

do you have any experience with femme slash?
peeps wanna see peeps boink: no power in the 'verse can stop memusesfool on May 20th, 2009 03:14 am (UTC)
Um, I've written it occasionally, and I read it sometimes. Why?
bury me in memoryephemerall on May 20th, 2009 11:30 am (UTC)
i felt like writing a story... both dean and sam are gils (deanna and samantha). Sam's kind of crazy in love with her sister, and Deanna is kind of a slut. lol
gorgeous and affectingjoans23 on May 20th, 2009 09:15 am (UTC)
make me forget what I did
Oh, Sam! This was gorgeous and visceral, total wow!
never trust a big butt and a smile: girl looking over shoulderobeetaybee on November 5th, 2009 07:30 am (UTC)
Oh, this was so heartbreakingly lovely. Oh, Sam.