Sam Winchester (
likely_evil) wrote2010-04-08 09:45 pm
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In which Sam calls an old friend...
After the Pastor left, and Sam got Cas comfortable on the other bed, Sam walked outside to get a soda. He just stared at the machine, then finally punch the button for the drink. Then he punched it again, and again and again until the machine had a large fist sized series of dents and Sam was using the bottle to ice his knuckles as he walked back to the room.
He was trapped there. Well, not really trapped, but Cas needed to rest and recover from whatever the whore had done to him. And Dean...
So this was what it felt like to be abandoned. Not just Dean telling him not to come back, or saying goodbye over a phone because it was better apart, or even Dean dying. This was deliberate, and now Sam understood what Dean had to feel every time he had walked out on him.
He tried to call Dean again, but of course he wasn't answering. But he needed someone to talk to. He had already called Bobby to tell him, and he and Cas would make their way there in the morning. There was nothing they could do right now, not without knowing where Dean was. Stupid Nokian symbols.
He rolled the ball over his contact list, then stopped when it highlighted the name FAITH. God, it had been months since they had talked, since the time she had been possessed and tried to kill him and Dean in fact.
Sighing, he hit send and wondered if she would even pick up. Right now he could just use a good, sober friend to talk to for awhile.
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His hand stopped teasing her as he guided himself to her entrance and gave a hard thrust in. Then his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned at the tightness gripping him.
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"You sure you can?"
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He kissed her hard as his hands held onto her hips. His thrusts were hard and fast, primal instinct to just take her right then and there overcoming his senses.
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"Hurt me, Sam. You're still holdin' back. Let go."
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He grabbed her legs and put them over his shoulders, creating a new angle and then pressed down against her body to open her up wide as he took her that way, his eyes clenched tight to not watch.
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"Fuck, Sam, don't stop."
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"I didn't hurt you, did I?' he asked softly after a moment.
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"Not in any way I didn't enjoy, handsome. Don't worry about it."
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He used to be the one who made love. It was beautiful moments between him and Jess, and as the years went by after her death he had slowly come to realize he was never going to be that kid again. That gentleness was gone, at least that was how he felt.
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"Maybe one day you'll get it back. Find it again or whatever."
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So maybe she wasn't so sure about what she was saying, but she wasn't about to admit that. It wasn't what Sam needed to hear, not at the moment.
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