![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityTitle: the Truth is Never Easy
Pairing: Sam/OMC, Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1556
A/n: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shades_of_hades for the Free-for-All. Her request was: Sam/Dean, Wincest fic from the outside POV of someone Sam went to school with. Must know they're brothers.
Sam’s a good kisser. He seemed unsure at first, but after a few minutes of Ethan coaxing his lips apart with a few gentle strokes of his tongue, he could feel Sam start to relax, feel the muscles in his back loosen and unknot beneath his hands, and slowly Sam started kissing him back.
They were just supposed to be studying for the Bio test on Friday. Sam told him he wasn’t really allowed to have people over, especially when his Dad was away and his brother was at work, but he unlocked the door and let him in all the same. He dropped his stuff on the couch in front of the tv and said he’d get them a soda and something to snack on, and Ethan got the hint pretty easily that Sam didn’t want him snooping around the place.
He’s not sure when or how they got to this point, just that Sam has these really gorgeous arms and long legs and when he goes on forever about mitochondria and adenosine tri-phosphate, Ethan doesn’t hear a word Sam’s saying for staring so hard at his mouth. Ethan’s had wet dreams about mouths like that.
At first, it really had seemed like Sam wasn’t that into it, but now he’s not even letting Ethan up for air. He’s kissing him harder, rougher, dragging his teeth over Ethan’s tongue, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he threads his fingers into Ethan’s sandy hair and tugs.
“You’re so hot,” Ethan tells him, pushing up the hem of Sam’s t-shirt, finger catching in the ragged hole near the bottom, and spreads his fingers out across Sam’s ribs, listening to the little hiss of air that escapes Sam’s lips as he mouths at Sam’s neck. Sam stops him with a firm touch to the back of his head before Ethan can suck a bruise to the surface.
“C’mere,” Sam says and pulls Ethan into his lap. The kid is stronger than he looks, Ethan thinks as Sam starts tugging at his shirt until its kind of stuck halfway on his head, half way off, stretching his eyebrows to his hairline. He probably looks like a fucking retard, but Sam tells him he’s gorgeous and there’s so much emotion in his voice, lining his face that Ethan actually blushes.
Sam’s hands are huge as they move expertly up and down Ethan’s bare skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to his collarbone and the dip in his throat, licking at his pulse and pressing his tongue there, feeling the little flutter beneath his skin. It’s driving Ethan crazy. Sam’s still got his shirt on and the only skin Ethan can feel is where he’s snuck his hands beneath Sam’s shirt, stroking his thumb against Sam’s hipbones where his jeans have slipped off.
Sam groans into his mouth and grabs for Ethan’s hips, pulls him forward, sort of grinding against him and that’s when the door swings open. The first thing Ethan sees is a pair of scuffed black boots and grease-streaked blue jeans. Sam’s older brother stands in the doorway, fading sunlight framing his silhouette and shit, his arms are bigger than Sam’s and he does not look happy. Ethan’s heart is racing at being caught, wants to reach over and grab his shirt and take off before Sam’s muscley brother introduces him to his fist. His knuckles are ragged and scraped up, like punching people’s faces in is his favorite hobby, but Sam digs his fingers into his hips tighter, like he doesn’t want him to leave.
Sam’s brother just stands there for like…ever. Just staring. Sam’s still holding onto him, still tight, but he’s staring over Ethan’s left shoulder, in some kind of weird staring match with his brother, like who can go the longest without blinking. Except when Ethan was little, they got to punch whoever blinked first on the arm. Sam’s brother looks like he wants to do a whole lot worse to Sam. Ethan’s kind of scared for him, to be honest. He likes Sam. He’s nice and honest and smart and doesn’t act like he gives a shit about what anyone else thinks about him.
“Put your clothes on and get the fuck out.” Sam’s brother finally mutters in this low, strangled tone, and walks off, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Ethan thinks he almost sounded sad.
Ethan slides off of Sam and Sam hands him his shirt, eyes and mouth turned down in an apology. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Ethan murmurs, pulling the neck of his shirt over his head. When he hears the shower spray coming from the bathroom, he kneels on the carpet in front of Sam, putting his hands on Sam’s thighs. Sam’s back to being all tight-wound, jaw clenched, and tense. “Hey,” Ethan whispers, tilting Sam’s face up and catching his bottom lips briefly. “You gonna be okay? Your brother, he’s not gonna hurt you is he?”
Sam’s mouth thins out and he pushes Ethan away, nearly stepping on his hand when he stands up and walks over to the door, opening it for him.
“You don’t know anything about him.”
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Ethan gets about two blocks before he realizes he left his Biology book and his cd player at Sam’s house. If it was just the book he’d say screw it, but he just got that cd player for his birthday and his mom would kill him if he didn’t come home with it.
He’s hoping he can just knock on the door and Sam will meet him at the door with his stuff and he can get and stay the hell away from Sam Winchester and his psycho homophobic brother.
Ethan knocks three times, waits at least three minutes between each knock, but no one ever comes to the door. Maybe they went out, he thinks, except that the black muscle car is still parked at the curb, so probably not. Just as he steps off the porch, Ethan hears the squeak of the door knob turning.
Ethan turns around and is blinded by the yellowish front porch light being switch on from inside. He can tell that the shadow lingering inside the doorway isn’t Sam’s and his body goes cold. Then, Sam’s brother starts to laugh, and its not some Hannibal lector I’m going to eat your liver with fava beans psychotic laugh either. It’s just innocent laughter, like laughing at someone’s joke or a comic in the Sunday paper.
“Sammy,” He bellows, tilting his head back. “Your boyfriends back!”
“Hey, Ethan.” Sam says, squeezing between his brother and the door. “You, uh-”
“Forgot my cd player,” Ethan finishes for him. He’d rather not drag this out any longer than he has to. “And my bio book, but who gives a fuck right?”
“Yeah,” Sam laughs easily, randomly throwing an elbow into his brother’s ribcage.
“Ow, bitch.” He grumbles and Sam smirks, jumping just out of Dean’s reach.
“Jerk,” He mutters, turning back to Ethan. “Hey, come on in and get your stuff, man. We had pizza for dinner, you can have some if want.”
Walking into their house again feels like stepping inside the Twilight Zone. All the lights are on and Sam’s smiling and Sam’s brother is smiling and flopping into the recliner, throwing one of his legs over the arm and tossing popcorn into Sam’s lap.
“Here’s your stuff,” Sam says, picking up Ethan’s cd player and textbook, shooting Dean a look when a piece of popcorn gets stuck in his hair. He stands up and that’s when Ethan notices it, the overhead light falling just right on Sam’s face and neck where his thin t-shirt has been pulled to one side. Sam’s lips are bright red and swollen, maybe even bitten, and there are marks on his neck, the beginnings of bruises and red streaks where teeth have scraped across his skin.
Well, hell.
“You want some pizza, kid?” Ethan jumps and Sam’s brother laughs at him. “Or maybe just a beer’s what you need.”
“Leave him alone, Dean.” Sam mutters, putting a slice of pizza on a plate for Ethan. “Have a seat, we’re just watching the game.”
Ethan sits on the loveseat and watches, not the game but the two of them. Mostly he watches Dean, who mostly watches Sam. Then, when Dean’s looking at the tv, Sam’s looking at Dean. It puts this twisting feeling in Ethan’s gut. The weirdest part is not being disgusted about what is obviously going on between Sam and his brother, but realizing that Sam had been using him, probably to make Dean jealous or get his attention.
“Hey ah, no thanks man. I’d better get home.” He says, offering Sam a neutral smile after stuffing his book and cd player into his backpack. Sam follows him to the door and Ethan stops on the last step when he feel a hand on his shoulder.
“I just,” Sam sighs and combs his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “I do really like you, Ethan.”
Ethan smiles up at Sam; it doesn’t feel like a lie. “But he’s your family.”
“Yeah,” Sam says. “He’s all I got.”
It doesn’t make it any better, but at least it’s the truth.
Pairing: Sam/OMC, Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1556
A/n: Written for
shades_of_hades for the Free-for-All. Her request was: Sam/Dean, Wincest fic from the outside POV of someone Sam went to school with. Must know they're brothers. Sam’s a good kisser. He seemed unsure at first, but after a few minutes of Ethan coaxing his lips apart with a few gentle strokes of his tongue, he could feel Sam start to relax, feel the muscles in his back loosen and unknot beneath his hands, and slowly Sam started kissing him back.
They were just supposed to be studying for the Bio test on Friday. Sam told him he wasn’t really allowed to have people over, especially when his Dad was away and his brother was at work, but he unlocked the door and let him in all the same. He dropped his stuff on the couch in front of the tv and said he’d get them a soda and something to snack on, and Ethan got the hint pretty easily that Sam didn’t want him snooping around the place.
He’s not sure when or how they got to this point, just that Sam has these really gorgeous arms and long legs and when he goes on forever about mitochondria and adenosine tri-phosphate, Ethan doesn’t hear a word Sam’s saying for staring so hard at his mouth. Ethan’s had wet dreams about mouths like that.
At first, it really had seemed like Sam wasn’t that into it, but now he’s not even letting Ethan up for air. He’s kissing him harder, rougher, dragging his teeth over Ethan’s tongue, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he threads his fingers into Ethan’s sandy hair and tugs.
“You’re so hot,” Ethan tells him, pushing up the hem of Sam’s t-shirt, finger catching in the ragged hole near the bottom, and spreads his fingers out across Sam’s ribs, listening to the little hiss of air that escapes Sam’s lips as he mouths at Sam’s neck. Sam stops him with a firm touch to the back of his head before Ethan can suck a bruise to the surface.
“C’mere,” Sam says and pulls Ethan into his lap. The kid is stronger than he looks, Ethan thinks as Sam starts tugging at his shirt until its kind of stuck halfway on his head, half way off, stretching his eyebrows to his hairline. He probably looks like a fucking retard, but Sam tells him he’s gorgeous and there’s so much emotion in his voice, lining his face that Ethan actually blushes.
Sam’s hands are huge as they move expertly up and down Ethan’s bare skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to his collarbone and the dip in his throat, licking at his pulse and pressing his tongue there, feeling the little flutter beneath his skin. It’s driving Ethan crazy. Sam’s still got his shirt on and the only skin Ethan can feel is where he’s snuck his hands beneath Sam’s shirt, stroking his thumb against Sam’s hipbones where his jeans have slipped off.
Sam groans into his mouth and grabs for Ethan’s hips, pulls him forward, sort of grinding against him and that’s when the door swings open. The first thing Ethan sees is a pair of scuffed black boots and grease-streaked blue jeans. Sam’s older brother stands in the doorway, fading sunlight framing his silhouette and shit, his arms are bigger than Sam’s and he does not look happy. Ethan’s heart is racing at being caught, wants to reach over and grab his shirt and take off before Sam’s muscley brother introduces him to his fist. His knuckles are ragged and scraped up, like punching people’s faces in is his favorite hobby, but Sam digs his fingers into his hips tighter, like he doesn’t want him to leave.
Sam’s brother just stands there for like…ever. Just staring. Sam’s still holding onto him, still tight, but he’s staring over Ethan’s left shoulder, in some kind of weird staring match with his brother, like who can go the longest without blinking. Except when Ethan was little, they got to punch whoever blinked first on the arm. Sam’s brother looks like he wants to do a whole lot worse to Sam. Ethan’s kind of scared for him, to be honest. He likes Sam. He’s nice and honest and smart and doesn’t act like he gives a shit about what anyone else thinks about him.
“Put your clothes on and get the fuck out.” Sam’s brother finally mutters in this low, strangled tone, and walks off, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Ethan thinks he almost sounded sad.
Ethan slides off of Sam and Sam hands him his shirt, eyes and mouth turned down in an apology. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Ethan murmurs, pulling the neck of his shirt over his head. When he hears the shower spray coming from the bathroom, he kneels on the carpet in front of Sam, putting his hands on Sam’s thighs. Sam’s back to being all tight-wound, jaw clenched, and tense. “Hey,” Ethan whispers, tilting Sam’s face up and catching his bottom lips briefly. “You gonna be okay? Your brother, he’s not gonna hurt you is he?”
Sam’s mouth thins out and he pushes Ethan away, nearly stepping on his hand when he stands up and walks over to the door, opening it for him.
“You don’t know anything about him.”
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Ethan gets about two blocks before he realizes he left his Biology book and his cd player at Sam’s house. If it was just the book he’d say screw it, but he just got that cd player for his birthday and his mom would kill him if he didn’t come home with it.
He’s hoping he can just knock on the door and Sam will meet him at the door with his stuff and he can get and stay the hell away from Sam Winchester and his psycho homophobic brother.
Ethan knocks three times, waits at least three minutes between each knock, but no one ever comes to the door. Maybe they went out, he thinks, except that the black muscle car is still parked at the curb, so probably not. Just as he steps off the porch, Ethan hears the squeak of the door knob turning.
Ethan turns around and is blinded by the yellowish front porch light being switch on from inside. He can tell that the shadow lingering inside the doorway isn’t Sam’s and his body goes cold. Then, Sam’s brother starts to laugh, and its not some Hannibal lector I’m going to eat your liver with fava beans psychotic laugh either. It’s just innocent laughter, like laughing at someone’s joke or a comic in the Sunday paper.
“Sammy,” He bellows, tilting his head back. “Your boyfriends back!”
“Hey, Ethan.” Sam says, squeezing between his brother and the door. “You, uh-”
“Forgot my cd player,” Ethan finishes for him. He’d rather not drag this out any longer than he has to. “And my bio book, but who gives a fuck right?”
“Yeah,” Sam laughs easily, randomly throwing an elbow into his brother’s ribcage.
“Ow, bitch.” He grumbles and Sam smirks, jumping just out of Dean’s reach.
“Jerk,” He mutters, turning back to Ethan. “Hey, come on in and get your stuff, man. We had pizza for dinner, you can have some if want.”
Walking into their house again feels like stepping inside the Twilight Zone. All the lights are on and Sam’s smiling and Sam’s brother is smiling and flopping into the recliner, throwing one of his legs over the arm and tossing popcorn into Sam’s lap.
“Here’s your stuff,” Sam says, picking up Ethan’s cd player and textbook, shooting Dean a look when a piece of popcorn gets stuck in his hair. He stands up and that’s when Ethan notices it, the overhead light falling just right on Sam’s face and neck where his thin t-shirt has been pulled to one side. Sam’s lips are bright red and swollen, maybe even bitten, and there are marks on his neck, the beginnings of bruises and red streaks where teeth have scraped across his skin.
Well, hell.
“You want some pizza, kid?” Ethan jumps and Sam’s brother laughs at him. “Or maybe just a beer’s what you need.”
“Leave him alone, Dean.” Sam mutters, putting a slice of pizza on a plate for Ethan. “Have a seat, we’re just watching the game.”
Ethan sits on the loveseat and watches, not the game but the two of them. Mostly he watches Dean, who mostly watches Sam. Then, when Dean’s looking at the tv, Sam’s looking at Dean. It puts this twisting feeling in Ethan’s gut. The weirdest part is not being disgusted about what is obviously going on between Sam and his brother, but realizing that Sam had been using him, probably to make Dean jealous or get his attention.
“Hey ah, no thanks man. I’d better get home.” He says, offering Sam a neutral smile after stuffing his book and cd player into his backpack. Sam follows him to the door and Ethan stops on the last step when he feel a hand on his shoulder.
“I just,” Sam sighs and combs his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “I do really like you, Ethan.”
Ethan smiles up at Sam; it doesn’t feel like a lie. “But he’s your family.”
“Yeah,” Sam says. “He’s all I got.”
It doesn’t make it any better, but at least it’s the truth.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-23 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-26 04:23 pm (UTC)