Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2632214.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      John_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      John_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Parent/Child_Incest, rape_scenes_are_not_graphic, Hurt_Sam
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-17 Words: 6677
****** First Kiss ******
by Tina_J2
Summary
     Sam is learning to deal with all the first times he never wanted to
     have.
     John can't remember what happens when he's drunk and Sam is to afraid
     to say anything.
Notes
     I love John, but for this story I needed him to be the bad guy.
**
That's how it started.
**
Sam was sitting at his table, looking through his math book and trying to catch
up with how far his new class was. It really sucked how often he missed school
and classes in between hunts or finding a new place to stay.
The desk lamp was the only light illuminating the room. Leaving everything
beside his table mostly dark.
Sam winced when suddenly the front door closed with a bang.
He heard sluggish feet move along the hall floor and turned around to look over
his shoulder. John was standing in the door to his and Deans room.
He was swaying a bit and leaned against the door frame. His eyes seemed
unfocused and glassy.
Sam didn't need for his father to come near to smell the alcohol. He could see
John must be pretty drunk.
John stepped into the room. „Where is your brother?“ He drawled.
Sam was watching his father move. Not liking that he entered the room. „Meeting
some girl he met at school.“ He shrugged with a shoulder.
John swayed on his feet when he walked over to where Sam was sitting. Letting
his leather jacket slip from his shoulders and fall to the floor. He stopped
behind Sam's chair, supporting himself on the chairs backrest.
„What are you doing,“ he slurred.
„Studying...,“ Sam answered, looking down at the table.
John leaned forward ,over his sons shoulder, looking at his writings. Sam was
hit by the strong smell of Whiskey and smoke. „I wish...,“ he swayed to the
right and managed to catch himself on the chairs backrest before he fell.
„..you would put this much energy into hunting.“
Sam stayed quiet, body tensing. Waited for the fighting to start, like it so
often did.
It didn't happen.
Instead he felt John put a big hand on his head and lean down, breathing in.
„You smell so good Sammy.“ One hand brushed through his strands and John bend
down, face pressing into Sam's hair.
The light touch made Sam feel uncomfortable. He wasn't used to having his dad
so close or touching him in almost a tender way.
„Your mom smelled that way...“ John's hands moved to Sam's shoulders, just lay
there. He pressed a kiss to Sam's temple. „You´re a beautiful boy...have the
good looks from her..“ His hands were now caressing up and down Sam's upper
arms.
Sam was tensing even more. He could feel the hot breath on the side of his
face. The lips as they pressed to his cheek. „Dad... what are you doing...?“ An
unsure tremble in his voice.
Sam wanted to stand up and back away from his father. But sitting at the table
with John right behind him prevented him from moving and left him helpless.
„Sammy....,“ John muttered, pressing his face into the crook of his sons neck.
Inhaling deeply. His strands tickling the side of Sam's face.
„Dad...stop...,“ Sam pleaded. The tender touches made his insides turn. He knew
his father wasn't supposed to touch him like that. Knew that it was to
intimate.
He suddenly sucked air in and jumped as John began to suck on his neck. He
tried to stand up and get away but John just held his upper arms tight, not
letting him up.
A firm hand slide over his chest to his stomach, pressing down there and
squeezing his abs. „Taste good too,“ said John, kissing along his sons neck.
The hand on his stomach made him hot and cold. His fathers stubble scratching
the tender skin on his neck. He stopped breathing, didn't want to be touched
like that. „Dad...stop...please...“
Sam was trying to wiggle out of his fathers grip but it was useless. His dad
was to strong and he couldn't get out from his position at the table.
Johns lips were moving up his neck and nibbled on his ear lob.
A shiver went through Sam´s whole body and his spine prickled. He suppressed a
groan. „Dad....“ Tears were gathering at the corner of his eyes. „Stop,“ his
voice was weak.
The hand on his stomach grabbed the fabric there and pushed it up, baring his
abs. Fingers lightly caressing the skin now uncovered, then his warm palm
pressed there. „Don´t you want your daddy to make you feel good?“
„No..,“ it was barely a sound and Sam felt how his body began to shake.
Johns other hand grabbed Sam's chin, moved it to the side and pressed their
lips together.
Fear gripped Sam as he felt lips moving against his and a tongue trying to pry
his lips open.
He squeezed his eyes and lips close. A tear sliding down his cheek.
He sure never imagined his first kiss would be with his father.
The fingers on his stomach were slipping under the waistbelt of his jeans and
Sam could feel panic grip his heart.
The door choose that moment to bang open and there suddenly was light in the
hall.
„Still studying Sammy?“ Deans cheerful voice called through the apartment.
John let go of Sam and stepped away. One last time he caressed the back of
Sam's neck with his fingers. He turned around and bend down to pick up his
jacket, almost losing his balance and falling and left the room.
Sam couldn't really hear the exchange outside his room. He was still to shocked
from what just happened, his ears ringing.
He just sat there and stared at the wall in front of him. His body was still
shaking and he squeezed his hands into fist. He could feel his cheeks get wet
and his lower lip begin to tremble.
His thoughts were reeling. Circling around the possibility of what could have
happened if Dean didn't get home when he did. What would his dad have done? How
far would it have gone? Why was his dad touching him?
„Hey kiddo!“ Dean called as he entered the room. „You really are still
studying! If you keep doing that one day your head is just gonna explode!“
He quickly wiped away his tears. Listened how Dean moved around the room,
getting undressed and babbling on.
„I tell you Sammy, that girl tonight could do things... You really should grow
up fast, cause you don´t know what you are missing!"
Usually Sam would make some stupid comment at his brother, maybe try to hear
more about those thing that girl could do, but right now he couldn't even
really follow what Dean was saying and didn't trust his voice enough to use it.
„Hey, Sam, did you fall asleep or something?“
Sam jumped as Deans face was suddenly inches away from his. He didn't notice
his brother moving that close and starred with wide eyes at his face.
„Damn, your eyes are all puffy and red. Told you you study to much. You will
need glasses soon if that goes on!“ He turned to switch the table lamp of and
grabbed Sam's wrist to pull him out of the chair. „Come on, lets go to bed. I´m
tired and with you sitting there with the books and light I wouldn't be able to
close my eyes!“
When Sam stood up Dean let go of him and moved to his bed. Pulling the covers
of he let himself fall into it with a content sigh. He snuggled under his
blanket and crossed his hands behind his head.
Sam just stood there. His mind wasn't working fast enough to catch up. Only
moments ago his dad has been touching him, making his stomach turn... and now
it was back to normal, just him and Dean again.
He looked down. Wanting to say something but didn't know what.
He still could feel his fathers touch.
„Sammy, are you alright,“ Dean asked, this time really concerned. His little
brother was to quiet and absent minded.
„...Yeah,“ he replied quietly and moved to his bed. Quickly removing his jeans
he slipped under the covers.
He heard Dean move around on his bed and ten minutes later there was steady
breathing.
Sam lay awake. Every time he closed his eyes the evenings events played behind
his eyelids and he would open them again. He pulled his knees to his chest and
the blanket over his head and hoped that he would soon just pass out from
tiredness.
**
Sam woke up to the smell of cafe.
He rubbed his eyes and set up in his bed.
He felt like he didn't sleep at all. He knew that he lay awake really long,
till his eyes and body were just to tired.
Lying in bed, he made himself believing that it was just the alcohol that made
his dad act the way he did. His father never made any moves on him in the past,
drunk or sober, so this must have been a one time thing. It helped him get his
mind around the incidents of yesterdays night.
He got out of bed and went into the kitchen.
Dad was sitting at the table. A cafe mug near him and notes of a new hunt all
around him. Sam quickly looked away from his dad.
Dean was standing at the stove. Turning a pancake over and humming some metal
song.
„Morning sunshine!“ Dean called and grinned, looking at him from the side.
Sam gave him a small smile in return and moved to stand beside his brother to
gaze at the plate full of warm pancakes.
„Smells good,“ he commented.
„Woah Sammy! What's that?!“ Dean called out surprised.
Sam didn't know what his brother meant and then Dean was wrapping his arm
around his shoulders and dragging him over to the table.
„Look at this dad! Our geek boy here has a girlfriend!“ Dean had a huge proud
grin on his face as he stopped by their fathers side.
Sam didn't understand what Dean meant.
Then Dean was pulling the collar of his t-shirt down. „Look at this huge hickey
Sam got!“
Sam froze, eyes wide. It was the place were his dad had sucked his neck
yesterday.
John looked up from his notes to look at Sam's neck. He frowned and his brow
furrowed. He gazed from the hickey to Sam's face and back to his neck, his look
a little confused and intense. Like he tried to remember something important.
„That girl must be like a vacuum cleaner judging by the size of it!“
Sam could feel the shaking starting. Yesterday suddenly clean before his eyes.
His breath quickening.
„Let go of me!!!“ Sam screamed tearing away from Deans hands and running
towards the bathroom closing himself inside.
He could hear Dean call after him. But he didn't understand what it was. He
leaned his back against the door. His breathing was heavy and fast. After a
moment he pushed away from the door and went to stand in front of the mirror.
He first looked at his face. He looked like he felt. Like shit. His eyes red
and begs under them. Then he moved his eyes to his neck.
There it was. A huge, purple hickey where his shoulder met his neck. Sam just
stared at it. It was like a huge advertising sign of yesterdays night.
God, Sam wished it would have been some girl who put it there instead of his
father.
He brushed his fingers over it and then flinched away, hastily pulling the
collar of his shirt over it. Hoping out of sight, out of mind would help.
After washing his face and taking a deep breath he opened the door and went
back into the kitchen.
He just hoped he would forget that it ever happened.
**
The next time it happened was three weeks later.
They still were staying at the same apartment. Sam going to school and here and
there helping with hunts over the weekends. His father and brother were absent
from home a lot. Always going on hunts together or separately.
His father and brother have been gone for four days now. Dean was somewhere
looking at a hunted cinema and his father was meeting with an old acquaintance
to learn more about demons.
Sam had busied himself that day with writing an essay for his English class and
cleaning the weapons that have been left at home. In the evening he ordered
pizza and made himself comfortable in front of the TV.
After a while he had nodded off.
When the front door opened Sam didn't hear it.
**
John let the beg he had hanging over his shoulder fall to the floor. It was
heavy with all the books he got from his acquaintance Marcus.
The time with him was mostly spend with research about the demon who killed
Mary. They didn't really find a lot. Which was disappointing and ate at Johns
nerves like nothing else.
One his way back he had stopped at a bar. The frustration and void of
information over the past days to much for him. He couldn't just go home, to
afraid he might break down in front of his boys. Alcohol at least always
managed to help him forget.
So he drank and drank till he could feel everything in his head go black, no
thoughts anymore, no painful memories of the past years. Only then he felt like
to going home.
So now, he walked through the dark apartment, swaying and had to use the
furnishing to keep himself upright.
His eyes caught the person lying on the couch.
It was curled into a ball. Sleeping peacefully. Clad only in white socks and
blue briefs. The TV throwing a bluish light on it and at parts of the otherwise
dark living room.
John tottered to the couch. Stood on it´s end and watched the boy sleep. His
Sammy. Still so fragile, so beautiful.
He watched as his chest and stomach moved as he breathed in and out. One of his
hands lying curled on his abs, the other under his head, lips slightly parted.
John moved to the side of the couch, now standing between it and the TV.
He just stood there and watched the young body. Hands hanging limp at his
sides. Head down. John's only movement was the light swaying caused by to much
to drink.
The fingers of his right hand twitched. He wanted to touch. This boy there,
still so innocent and so pure. He knew it was his son, his Sammy. But he wanted
a part of him, a part of his purity. To feel close to something that was like
his Mary when he met her and learned to love her.
He let his right hand brush the strands away from his sons forehead. Just that
small touch send a jolt through him.
He wanted... No, needed, more of that feeling.
**
Sam woke up as he felt the sudden pressure on his body. He startled awake and
tried to get away. But the body on him was to heavy. No weapons in his reach to
grab for and protect himself.
Did he forget the salt lines? Or any of the other protections? What
supernatural being could be after him?
He wiggled from side to side, trying to shake the body off, pressed on it´s
shoulders to get it away.
Big hands were grabbed by his wrist and pushed down beside his head. The body
pressing him hard into the cushion, not letting him breath properly. „Sshh,
Sammy... It´s just me.“
Sam froze.
His breathing quickening as he recognized the voice, then the smell. `Not
again` he though in a panic.
He could feel his fathers lips caress along his collar bone. Kissing it softly,
teeth nipping the skin. John's body lay between his spread legs, his dads
stomach pressed to his pelvis. John still wearing his jeans and a old t-shirt.
His dad was heavy, full weight resting on Sam's small body.
„Dad... what are you doing;“ he asked, couldn't keep the quivering out of his
voice. Tried to struggle again but it was in vain. His dad held him down easily
with his heavy body and big hands. Sam with his 13 years was no match for his
father.
„Sammy... you are so soft...“ It was muttered into his chest. Lips kissing
there now, finding a nipple, sucking on it.
Sam's spine arched of the couch and he had to close his eyes against the
feeling. Electric shocks running up and down his spine.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He did´t want his father doing this. His father
shouldn't be the one awakening those feelings in him.
„Stop.... I want you to stop!“ He tried it with more force behind his voice.
Weren't you taught in school to say no loud and clear when you were harassed?
But his father didn't stop.
Instead he adjusted his hold on Sam's wrists, using only one hand now to hold
his wrists, the other sliding over Sam's side. His mouth was moving up and down
Sam's chest and neck, open mouthed kisses and licks over the soft skin there,
scratching him with his stubbles. When he reached his jaw he nibbled on it. And
then he was kissing Sam's lips. Licking them, moaning while he did so.
Sam squeezed his lips shut. Promising himself to not let his dad in.
But then the hand on his side was pushing under his briefs. It found the limp
penis there and caressed it. And Sam groaned. Opened his mouth. And his father
was inside. Moving his tongue and sucking on Sam's.
The hand in his briefs began to play with his penis, making it hard. And all
Sam could
do was buckle his hips.
He didn't know that the touch of someone else could feel so good. He only knew
how it was to touch himself there.
Now it was his fathers firm hand stroking him. Wrapping around his still not
fully developed penis and jerking him off.
It made him feel good and at the same time he wanted to vomit. Feeling so sick
that he was enjoying this.
He tried to stop his hips from pushing into his fathers touch. But it was like
his body had a mind of its own.
He at least manage to finally turn his head away, managed to keep his father
from kissing him any longer. He pressed his mouth shut, fighting against the
sounds that tried to escape. His eyes were burning and tears were collecting.
His father kissed his way back down. Muttering „Sammy“ all the time. Licking
and kissing over his chest and finally finding a nipple to suck on.
And that was it. Sam bit hard into his lower lip and came all over his abs and
his fathers hand.
He was breathing heavy through his nose, eyes squeezed shut, tears sliding down
his burning cheeks.
Sam turned his head into the cushions as best he could, crying silently. His
body trembling with shame and after shocks.
At least it was over now. He hoped it was over now.
He pressed the hills of his now free hands into his eyes, trying to curl onto
his side, as best as he could, with his dad still between his legs.
Johns lips were brushing his ear. „Sammy... come on... please...“ On of Sam´s
hands was taken from his face.
Sam froze, stopped breathing as he felt the hard bulge. His dad was pressing
his palm onto his own hard cock.
Words were whispered huskily into his ear. „Please Sammy, help me out.“ And his
palm was rubbed against the hard bulge. John moaning beside his ear.
His hand shorty left the jeans covered bulge and Sam heard fumbling and a
zipper.
Then John was wrapping their joined hands around his cock and Sam's mind just
closed off. He just stopped thinking about what was going on, what was
happening.
He wondered what would happen if he screamed. What would his father do if he
really fought? If he would hit him, try to bite him, kick him. Would his father
hurt him? Really force him into it with bodily strength? Maybe beat him into
submission?
Sam really didn't want to find out.
He just closed his eyes and gave in. Jerking his father off. Listening to his
loud moans. Ignoring his father as he pressing his face into the crook of his
sons neck and panted hot against the skin there.
And as he felt the wetness of his fathers sperm hit his stomach, he pulled his
trembling hand away and sobbed into the cushion.
**
Sam slowly opened his eyes. He stayed in bed, not moving. He pulled the blanket
under his jaw, holding it there with both hands.
He sniffled.
He felt like a baby, afraid of leaving his own bed.
Yesterday night, his dad passed out after he came. Sam managed to get from
under the dead weight, that was crushing him. He rolled to the floor and then
ran to the bathroom to close himself inside. Not losing any time Sam had
removed the little clothing he had on and stepped under the shower.
When the hot water hit him he scrubbed at his skin, especially his stomach.
Wanting the smell and fluids of his father gone. Wanting the shower to wash
away the dirtiness he felt himself covert with and the memories branded into
his mind.
After the shower he had hurried into his room. Inside it, he put a chair under
the door handle, keeping it from getting open. He didn't want for his dad to
wake up and decide he wanted some more.
Then he was able to lay down and cry himself into sleep.
And now...he didn't know what he should do now. He couldn't just get up and go
out there. He couldn't step in front of his fathers and pretend like nothing
happened. He wouldn't be able to look him in the eye or open his mouth.
Last time he could pretend it was a one time thing cause John was drunk. The
next day his father couldn't remember anything anyway.....and the only thing
that had happened were just a few kisses.
But now? Sam still was sure it was the alcohol, because sober his father never
tried anything. He couldn't pretend any longer that it was only once, cause now
it had happened again. Would his father start to molest him now every time he
got drunk? How far would it go?
`Yesterday it sure went beyond fatherly love.` Sam though bitterly.
He heard about stuff like that. Knew that there were horrible people who abused
their own children. He just never though he would end up as one. And he
couldn't think about his father as horrible or evil.
Sam had a lump in his throat. Sure, his dad and him fought a lot but he knew
his dad loved him. His dad was quiet often engaged in hunts but he always has
been there for him and Dean. Protected them and raised them the best he could.
After what happened, he should hate his dad but he couldn't. He just wanted him
to stop, to never touch him again. He wanted to stop feeling so ashamed and
dirty. Why had he enjoyed his fathers touch? Maybe his dad didn't stop cause he
saw Sam enjoyed it? Thought Sam wanted it. Maybe he was the one with whom there
was something wrong?
His head just couldn't stop thinking. Thoughts turning over each other inside
his mind.
Now he got his first kiss from his father and his first orgasm. What would be
next?
There was a knock on his door.
„Sam?“
Sam's body stiffened in sudden fear. His father was at the door.
Again a knock. „Sam, you awake?“
Sam pulled the blanket over his head. Hiding under it. Trying to block the
sound out.
There was rattling, John was trying to push the door open. But the chair Sam
put there last night served it´s purpose. „Please Sammy, open the door.“ The
voice was steady and concerned.
Oh god, what was he supposed to do now?
„Sam!“ The voice was more insisted now.
Sam could feel how he began to tremble. He just couldn't face he was father
yet. He just couldn't!
„Dad.. I´m...,“ he got out, to quiet, he barely heard himself speak. He tried
again. „Dad, I need to get dressed... Give me five minutes.“ He called, now
louder but voice still unsteady.
„Good....“ He heard his father move away.
Sam stayed in bed. Taking deep breaths to calm himself. When he felt more
steady he got out of bed and got dressed. Jeans and a long sleeved shirt.
He stood in front of his door and prepared himself mentally before he removed
the chair and opened the door.
He searched the open space for his father and found him at the kitchen table.
His dad was sitting there, still in the clothes from yesterday. His body looked
tired, not as fit as it normally did. He had his elbows on the table and his
face hidden in the palms of his hands.
Sam walked to the table and stood on the opposite from his father. „Dad?“ He
asked, since his father didn't show any sing of noticing him.
John sigh and looked up.
He looked horrible.
His face was pale and his eyes red rimmed and glassy. The few wrinkles he had
stood out. He had dark rings under his eyes. John looked at least ten years
older then he really was.
Sam squirmed under the intense look his father was giving him.
„Sammy... I..,“ he stopped there and took a deep breath before he went on. „I
know I was drunk last night.... and today when I woke on the couch... I had
this dream... God help that it was just a nightmare...“ John shook his head,
like to clear it from muddy thoughts. „I need to ask you something.“
Johns eyes now met Sam´s. They looked wet and there was a deep sadness around
them, horror left from the nightmare. He looked like someone who just lost the
love of his life.
He wiped a hand down his jaw before he went on. „Yesterday night... Did
anything happen yesterday...?“ It was clear he wanted to say more. The `between
you and me` hanging in the air.
Sam´s breath was fast now. His eyes widened. Could his dad remember?
His father was starring at him, waiting for an answer. Looking so heart broken.
Relief flooded him. That was Sam´s chance! His way out! He could tell his dad!
Could get him into stopping drinking if he heard what he did! It would all be
over!
But what left his mouth was: „No dad, nothing had happened.“
He couldn't put that burden on his fathers shoulder.
„Thank god!“ John breathed and put his face back into his hands.
**
Later, Sam would regret that he had pity on his father.
Cause the drinking didn't stop and the molesting either.
It didn't happen every time John was drunk. Sometimes he didn't even notice
Sam, sometimes he would just pass out and sometimes Dean was there.
And after it happened a third time, Sam started to avoid his dad when he drank
as best as he could. He hid in his room or closed himself into the bathroom.
Sometimes John would stand at the door, begging for Sam to open it, let him in.
At those times Sam just stayed quiet in his room or bathroom, hoping John never
would try to open the door by force.
A third time was followed by a fourth time, and a fifth and after that Sam just
didn't want to count anymore.
From jerking off it moved to John giving him a blow job and then wanting one in
return.
The first time John came in his mouth Sam vomited all over the carpet. The
cleaned it up to erase all the traces.
It didn't happen often. Sometimes nothing happened for weeks and Sam would
think it was over. Then John would make a move again.
He still didn't fight his father. Still to afraid of really being forced into
it, of the possibility of getting hurt or beaten. He learned that the faster he
would go along, the faster his dad would be done and leave him alone.
So when John would manage to get him, he just tried to close his mind off and
do what was wanted.
Partly he thought it was his own fault. He didn't fought really hard and he
came at his fathers touch. So that meant he had to like it.
Sam started to keep to his room now when John was around. He didn't want to see
his father when he was sober or drunk and already being in his room gave him
the chance to close his door faster when needed.
Even with Dean around he rarely left his room anymore. He didn't want to feel
his fathers worried glances, hear his voice or talk to him.
Going on hunts together was the worst for him. Cause there they had to talk
with each other and casual touches happened all the time.
One time John throw him to the ground and lay down on him to protect him from
an attack. It left Sam trembling and not able to move for a few moments.
At least, his dad never tried to go the last step with him. Real sex. That was
something of a small comfort to him.
**
It was the week after Sam's fourteenth birthday.
John was gone on a hunt by himself, leaving Dean at home so he could relax a
few days. For many months it was the first time Sam and Dean could spend more
then two days together, without their dad or any hunt interrupting.
It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. They had spend the day with sleeping in.
Dean cooked them lunch and Sam did the dishes. Then they sat in front of the
TV, watching cartoons and drinking soda.
Dean was talking about hunts and girls he met at all the different places.
Telling him storys about dumb people he interviewed or pranks he played, making
Sam smile and laugh and he felt so light and happy like he didn't in a long
time.
He missed spending time with Dean. Just hanging around and being normal
brothers who joked and teased each others. He missed Deans stupid stories.
Even back when he still was little he loved it when Dean would lay down with
him at night, tell him a story till he would fall asleep. With the years Deans
stories moved from fairy-tales to action stories, then he talked about the
hunts with dad and later about the hunts he did by himself and when Sam got
into puberty about all the girls he dated.
Dean was sitting on the couch and Sam on the floor beside his feet, leaning
back.
Dean just had told him in detail how his last hunt went, he had been hunting a
witch. She wasn't to powerful but still managed to kill three people by
poisoning.
Sam was so relaxed, listening to Deans pleasantly deep voice and being able to
let his guard down with their dad not around, he felt himself nodding of.
Yawning he leaned his head on Deans knee. Felt as his brother absently began to
stroke through his hair.
„Hey Sam?“
Sam muttered a response, cuddling more into Deans leg, to comfortable to speak.
„I was meaning to ask you something,“ his brother went one. The sentence was
drawled, like Dean was uncomfortable talking about it.
„Hmmm?“
Dean sigh. „You know... you seem so closed of those past weeks... always in
your room... and I´m around so little now... I was wondering... Is everything
alright between you and dad? Are you two fighting a lot?“
Sam tensed and swallowed. All the comfort leaving him at once, replacing it
with tension. Did Dean really have to start that topic now?
Sam felt a lump in his throat. „Everything. alright.“ He answered to fast and
starred at the stains on the carpet.
Deans hand was pulling his hair, making Sam bend his neck back so he could see
his brothers face upside down.
Dean was looking at him. Eyes intense. Searching Sam's face as if for any sign
that he wasn't telling the truth.
Sam tried to make his face look as blank as possible. Pushing all emotion away.
The last thing he needed was for his big brother to find out. He loved their
father to much and admired the man like he was a hero. It would break him if he
knew.
Deans voice was full of concern. „If something was wrong you would tell me,
right?“
Sam kept his breathing even. „Of course,“ he replied as steady as he could.
Dean looked at him a moment longer, deep into his eyes. And then he let Sam go.
The easy mood from before now gone, Sam pulled his knees to his chest and
rested his chin on them, hands on the top of his feet.
Deans hand was on Sam's nape, caressing it and then resting there. A warm and
comforting presence.
Deans lips brushed over his temple in a chaste kiss. His brother left his lips
there as he said: „If anything ever happens that makes you sad, you can tell me
Sammy. I´m your big brother, I´ll protect you.“
With that Dean stood up and went to the fridge to get a new sodas.
Sam pressed his forehead to his knees.
He felt like crying.
**
His dad went the last step when Sam was 15.
**
John was in his truck. His mind was working over time. The word `No no no`
repeating itself over and over again.
Tonight, he met the asshole. Met the demon who killed his Mary. He finally
faced him face to face. Saw that it wasn't just any demon but one who must be
stronger, higher up the ranks, he had yellow eyes instead of black.
John wasn't a match for it. No holy water had helped, no exorcism. The fucker
just pinned him to a wall and kept on killing the woman he came to murder. Then
he gave his attention to John.
The demon taunted him. Telling him the story about how it killed Mary, how much
it enjoyed it. John was burning up inside from his rage, screaming with it.
And then it said it. This one small sentence that wouldn't leave John's head
anymore, was making him press down on the gas so much harder.
„Next, I´ll come for Sammy.“
Then it was gone.
He grabbed the flask from the passenger seat and started to gulp dawn the
liquor. He needed to forget the details of Mary's death. The pain to much.
And then he needed to get to his little boy. He needed to protect Sammy, needed
to stay by his side. Hold him and never let go.
**
The apartment was an one room.
So when Sam sensed another presence it only left him with bolting from the
sleeping couch and making a run for the bathroom. Closing the door behind him.
He knew it must have been his father. Dean only left yesterday and said he
wouldn't be back for at least a week.
His guess was confirmed by his father calling his name. Then there was a knock
on the door and Sam jumped away from it.
„Open the door Sam!“ He didn't even need to hear the slur in his fathers voice.
By now he could feel it when his father was drunk.
Sam got as far away from the door as he could. His back pressed into the tiles
near the bathtub.
„Sammy, you need to open the door! He is coming for you!“
Sam just shook his head. „No... no one is here!“
There was a knock again. „Sammy.....please.“
Then it went quiet.
The corners of Sam's mouth were pulling dawn. He could feel the familiar panic
rising. He knew this routine by now. His father bagging and knocking, till
he´ll get to tired and leave him alone. But knowing that didn't keep the fear
out of his body.
Suddenly there was a load bang and the door flew open. John was stumbling
inside, shoulder first.
Sam froze. Fear keeping him standing there, starring.
A moment later John was there, wrapping him in his arms. Pressing him to his
body.
„Sammy... my Sammy... Daddy will keep you safe... no one will ever touch my
precious boy..“
A hand was pushing his chin up and then there were lips on his. Kissing him and
pushing a tongue inside.
Sam was so used to this by now that he didn't even resist. Just told himself to
go along so it would end soon.
Hands were undressing him and his father was still talking about protecting
him. Protecting him from the evil.
When he was nude, John began to remove his own clothes. Sam was crowded against
the wall, so it would be useless to try and run away. He just tried to cover
his nude body as best as he could, hiding his penis in his palms.
After John was done undressing he pulled Sam to him.
From here one Sam knew how it would go. Kisses all of over his body and then
his dad would either jerk him off or suck him, maybe wanting something in
return after he made his son come.
But this time, Sam was wrong.
Sam was turned around, face first into the wall.
The kisses on his back and shoulders were gentle but did nothing to comfort him
or keep the rising panic away.
For the first time there were hands touching his ass. Fingers caressing his
cleft. Johns chest pressing against his back. All the while muttering in his
delirium of keeping his boy safe.
As Sam felt the blunt pressure at his hole, he pushed his mind as far away as
he could. He knew what would happen next.
After the first kiss and the first orgasm came his first time.
This time, Sam didn't come.
When his father touched him and jerked him off, his penis stayed limp.
All he could feel was the pain.
**
After this Sam managed to avoid his father even more. And John just started to
spend longer and longer periods of time away from home.
So it only happened twice more.
**
Nine years later.
Sam was at Bobby's junk yard.
He sat on the trunk of one of the old, broken cars. His weight supported by his
arms as he leaned back, face towards the sky, enjoyed the sun burning on his
skin, his feet resting on the bumper of the car.
„Thirsty?“ He heard his brother call and looked in the direction of his voice.
Dean was walking towards him. Dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans, boots, his
flannel shirt wrapped around his narrow hips. One cold beer in each hand and a
grin on his lips.
He stopped between Sam's spread legs. When their eyes met, he leaned up and
pressed his lips to Sam's.
Sam let his eyes fall shut and returned the kiss. Lips caressing and tongues
brushing. A hand coming up to cup the back of his big brothers head.
A noise made them break apart. Afraid it might be Bobby, coming to look for
them.
Dean pressed one beer in Sam's hand and then jumped up to make himself
comfortable on the trunk beside his brother, spreading his legs a bit so their
tights were pressed together.
Dean looked up at the blue sky and took a swallow from his beer.
„Hey Sam?“
„Hmm...?“
„Tell me about your first kiss.“
End
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