![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
The Seduction of Scott, Part 19, Supernatural, Keeper!Verse, R
Title: The Seduction of Scott, Part 19 (The Morning After)
Characters: Sam/Dean, Dana, Scott, John, Jamie, cameo by Aristotle
Rating: R (established m/m relationship as well as het couples)
Word Count: 2283
Disclaimer: Not mine - just playing.
Summary: Written by my friend M, So, the Dana & Scott hook-up happened in 18 (at Am's journal) and, all things considered, it went fairly well. But, this is Keeper!verse so the morning after brings a complication - named John Winchester.
They were standing in the kitchen, drinking orange juice, both of them a little sleepy, wrapped up in a warm, golden silence.
Scott was in a brand new, white robe of Dean’s, probably a long forgotten Christmas present, that Dana had dug out of a drawer somewhere.
Dana stood there in a pink, kind of ratty, robe with a smile on her face.
They both set down their glasses to move together and cuddle up. Scott’s back rested against the counter, his hands wrapped around her waist; her hand wrapped around his shoulders with her head touching his chest. They swayed gently as one.
“Let’s go back upstairs,” she mumbled.
“Really? You sure?” His lips pressed to her forehead and she leaned her head to meet his eyes to convince him she meant it.
Probably because she was too focused on the wonderfulness of Scott and too caught up in the warmth of the moment, Dana didn’t sense someone approaching the house.
So Scott and Dana both jumped sky high when the kitchen lock tumbled and the door swung open. Next thing they knew John Winchester was standing in the doorway, gaping at them.
Dana gasped and jumped in front of Scott to face her grandfather. “Papa?” She saw his momentary confusion, followed quickly by mounting rage.
She looked up, meeting John’s eyes.
What she met was a mask of unmistakable, volcanic fury.
“Where is your father? And Sam?” he asked through clenched teeth, tone low, each syllable annunciated.
“Hunting.” Dana felt her body temperature climb, knew she was bright red from head to toe.
John eyes flashed between the two of them. “Son, you best head home.”
Scott mumbled, “Dana?” She could sense that he didn’t want to leave her, felt his hands squeeze her waist.
Dana kept her eyes trained on John as he stepped into the kitchen, door slamming behind him.
“Go ahead Scott. I need to talk with my Papa.”
“You sure?” His reluctance, mixed in with worry for her, rolled off him in waves.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied confidently, willing him to understand that she could cope and would be fine. She knew she needed to handle this solo.
Scott walked out of the room. Nothing else moved.
John and Dana locked eyes. Dana told herself not to blink even though she desperately wanted to back down, beg him not to be mad, get that look off his face.
John broke the stand-off. “I’d ask what the hell is going on here but ‘what the hell is going on here’ is painfully clear.” He took one step toward her, hands on hips.
“Papa. I am eighteen years old. You can’t tell me what the hell I can or can not do. This isn’t your business.”
“Like Hell it’s not my business. My granddaughter in the kitchen with her boyfriend in nothing but robes!” John yelled as he moved another step closer.
“And you were in your living room with Ms. Lutz if I recall, and she was wearing your shirt.” Dana replied smoothly. She knew, intellectually, that baiting him was dangerous territory but her sassy mouth uttered the taunt before she could swallow it down.
“How dare you compare this to that?”
Dana sensed Scott standing outside the door, debating whether or not to rejoin them. He was projecting his thoughts so loudly that there was no escaping them. With a minimum of intrusion, she placed a should just go thought into his head. It was a violation of her pledge never to use her powers on him but only a teeny one. And this was an extreme circumstance.
Dana heard the front door close, Scott heading home. She sighed softly in relief, didn’t want him to hear any more of this. She figured that maybe the Winchesters had finally scared him away for good.
She brought her thoughts back to the situation at hand. One furious John Winchester standing in front of her, glaring at her, shooting daggers with his eyes. She’d seen him this angry before, but never with her. It reminded her vaguely of when she was little, how John used to look at Sam when he thought no one was looking. She hated that look with every fiber of her being.
She pulled herself together and replied firmly to his last question, “How in the world is it different? We’re both consenting adults. No laws broken.”
“Dana Elizabeth. You are a child living under your father’s roof. Having your boyfriend over for a sleepover is not the same thing. Leave my sex life out of this,” he bellowed.
“I am not a child and you will not treat me like one. And calm down, you’re gonna have a stroke.” She struggled for calm herself, felt some control slipping away. “I put a lot of thought into this. It wasn’t some random, one night feel good session.”
She saw the color drain from his face. He squinted his eyes, narrowed them to small slits. He opened his mouth but she’d never know what he would have said to her ill-advised remark because the kitchen door flew open and Dean burst through, covered in dirt, head to toe.
“What the fuck are you two yelling about at 8 in the morning? Could hear you from the driveway. Jesus Christ.”
Dean stopped and looked slowly from Dana to John, realized they were at Defcon 4. “What the hell is going on here? You two look you are about to tear a chunk out of each other.”
John was looking at Dean. Without turning his head, John said quietly, “Go to your room Dana.”
“No Papa,” she replied defiantly.
Dean looked at them again, first one then the other, confused. He shut the door and walked over to Dana, put his arm around her. “Calm down sweetie. Go to your room. Let me talk with him alone.” He kissed her cheek, got a smudge of dirt on her.
Dana nodded and turned to walk out. She stopped, turned back to her Dad. “You’re not hurt are you? Just dirty, right?”
Dean nodded. “Just dirt. Sam too.” With that reassurance, she left and they heard her stomp up the stairs, slam her bedroom door.
Dean turned to John. “What the hell Dad?”
Without hesitation, John launched into it. “I caught her and Scott in robes in the kitchen when I walked in.”
“Shit,” said Dean. “You probably scared Scott to death.”
“WHAT?” John screamed. “That’s your response? Your teenage daughter is having sex in your house and that’s what you have to say? You have got to be kidding me.”
“You have got to be kidding me Dad,” Dean mimicked. “I was catting around at thirteen and you never said one goddamn word to me.”
“That’s different,” John hissed.
“How the fuck is that different?”
“She’s a girl.”
Dean laughed and rubbed his hair, dirt particles flying into the air. “Are you serious? She’s a girl? COME ON.” Dean stared his father down. “She thought it through. Not random. Not off the cuff. Not slutty. She is an adult and she acted like one.”
“She talked to you?” replied John, look transformed from fury to flummoxed.
“Well, mostly to Sam but yeah, we talked. We knew.”
“You KNEW her boyfriend would be sleeping over?” John had recovered from the shocked look and had gone back to anger. He stepped closer to Dean, into his space.
“Not that exactly, No,” Dean admitted.
“What does Sam think about this?” John asked.
“Shit. Sam. Dad, yell at me all you want but please not in front of Sam.”
And, as if on cue, Sam opened the kitchen door and strode in, if possible, even more covered in dirt than Dean.
“Did I hear my name in all that yelling?” Sam asked as Aristotle came running into the kitchen to greet him. Aristotle ran up to Sam, wagging her tail, and threw herself at his feet. Sam set down a duffle bag on the counter and slipped off his shoes.
Dean cleared his throat. “Sam, could you go upstairs and check on Dana? I’ll be up in a second. Let me finish up with Dad.”
Sam wrinkled his brow. “Uh, no, don’t think so.”
John had grown very still. “I’ll just leave,” he said and turned to go.
Dean spoke to John’s back. “Listen Dad. I get why you’re upset. I do. But, it’s okay, really.”
John grunted.
Dean added, “I’ll call you later,” as John opened the door.
John slammed the door behind him.
Sam looked at Dean, “What the fuck was that about?”
Sam and Dean were in the shower, the water was still running off them in brown rivulets. Dirt can get in some odd places when you are climbing through a cave on your stomach trying to track a godforsaken possessed bobcat.
“You okay Sam?”
Sam grunted, “Dirt everywhere” as he rinsed his hair for the second time.
“Not what I meant, dude.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine babe. Really, no bad memories for me today. Feel bad for Dana though. No one should have to face their grandfather like that. Our girl is tough.”
Dean laughed, “I feel bad for Dad. He was really angry. Thought he was gonna burst a blood vessel.”
“Are you okay?” Sam asked as he stepped aside to let Dean rinse his hair.
“I’d love for her to be ten again but she’s not a little girl any more Sam. We have to cope with that.”
It was true. She wasn’t a little girl but Sam could sense that Dean was playing it cooler than he felt, was trying hard to be an understanding ‘modern Dad’.
Sam leaned over and kissed Dean’s newly clean hair. “Let me help you cope baby.” He lowered down to his knees and sucked Dean’s cock into his mouth. Sam heard Dean groan in response and felt his worries about John and Dana drift from his thoughts replaced by a steady stream of , “Fuck yeah Sammy.”
John slammed the door of his apartment shut. His head was killing him. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier with Dana or Dean. No scratch that. He was upset with Dana. But he wanted to choke Dean. How the fuck is his son so fucking fine with his young daughter having sex?
His phone range and he picked it up, recognizing the tone.
“Hi Jamie,” he snapped viciously.
“Whoa – what’s got your panties in a twist?”
“Nothing.”
“Sounds like a lot of nothing. Are we still meeting for breakfast?”
“Come over, I’ll cook.”
She arrived thirty minutes later to the welcoming smells of coffee and bacon.
“You look positively thunderous. ‘Nothing’ must have a different definition from the one I learned.”
He smiled at that, in spite of himself.
She stepped closer. Put her hands on his waist. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. Talk is way overrated. Let me help you relax.”
Her hands drifted to his waist. She undid his belt, kissing him as she lowered his zipper then lowered herself to one knee, licked his cock with a long swipe of her tongue. John thought, Talk is way overrated.
Dana felt the shield go up as soon as Sam and Dean’s door shut, definitely parental alone time going to happen.
Well, they had earned it. They had been great with her. Came to her room. Didn’t comment on the broken glass. Just sat and asked her if she felt okay, if she had questions. Discussed what had happened with Papa. Treated her like their kid, but in a way that didn’t make her feel bad or wrong, just supported and loved.
She thought about Scott. Figured he was probably contemplating a conversion to Catholicism in order to become a priest after this morning. Didn’t blame him in the least if he never spoke to her again. If Scott’s dad had walked in on them, she would have died from embarrassment and Dr. Wu is no where near as scary as John Winchester, and probably not armed either.
Her cell phone rang, Scott’s ring. “Hi Scott,” she answered, hearing the shock in her voice that he wanted to talk to her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Are you sick of the Winchesters yet?”
“A little, but not sick of you. Meet me at the park?”
She felt her mood brighten. “Sure.”
An hour later they were sitting on a bench, holding hands, Dana’s head on Scott’s shoulder. She had spent the last fifteen minutes filling him in on what had transpired after he had departed the kitchen.
“He’ll get over it. Trust me, he’s faced worse sex traumas than this in his life. His very straight son turned out not to be so straight, remember?”
She felt that warm, gooey feeling creep over her, her “Scott mode”. Just his smell relaxed her, drove away the morning’s trauma.
“Our second round was sort of interrupted,” she uttered, coyly.
Scott laughed. “I thought you’d be scarred for life. Should have known better, you’re incorrigible.”
She jumped up. Tugging his hand, she dragged him into the bushes until they were well out of sight. She whispered into his ear, “Too chilly to get naked but there is something I’ve been wanting to try.”
As she was talking, her right hand lowered his zipper, reached into his boxers, pulled out his cock. She stroked it while they kissed, tongues buried deep in one another’s mouths. She pulled out of the kiss and dropped to her knees, kissed the tip of his dick then licked the slit before opening her mouth and welcoming it in.
Scott moaned, “Oh baby.”
Characters: Sam/Dean, Dana, Scott, John, Jamie, cameo by Aristotle
Rating: R (established m/m relationship as well as het couples)
Word Count: 2283
Disclaimer: Not mine - just playing.
Summary: Written by my friend M, So, the Dana & Scott hook-up happened in 18 (at Am's journal) and, all things considered, it went fairly well. But, this is Keeper!verse so the morning after brings a complication - named John Winchester.
They were standing in the kitchen, drinking orange juice, both of them a little sleepy, wrapped up in a warm, golden silence.
Scott was in a brand new, white robe of Dean’s, probably a long forgotten Christmas present, that Dana had dug out of a drawer somewhere.
Dana stood there in a pink, kind of ratty, robe with a smile on her face.
They both set down their glasses to move together and cuddle up. Scott’s back rested against the counter, his hands wrapped around her waist; her hand wrapped around his shoulders with her head touching his chest. They swayed gently as one.
“Let’s go back upstairs,” she mumbled.
“Really? You sure?” His lips pressed to her forehead and she leaned her head to meet his eyes to convince him she meant it.
Probably because she was too focused on the wonderfulness of Scott and too caught up in the warmth of the moment, Dana didn’t sense someone approaching the house.
So Scott and Dana both jumped sky high when the kitchen lock tumbled and the door swung open. Next thing they knew John Winchester was standing in the doorway, gaping at them.
Dana gasped and jumped in front of Scott to face her grandfather. “Papa?” She saw his momentary confusion, followed quickly by mounting rage.
She looked up, meeting John’s eyes.
What she met was a mask of unmistakable, volcanic fury.
“Where is your father? And Sam?” he asked through clenched teeth, tone low, each syllable annunciated.
“Hunting.” Dana felt her body temperature climb, knew she was bright red from head to toe.
John eyes flashed between the two of them. “Son, you best head home.”
Scott mumbled, “Dana?” She could sense that he didn’t want to leave her, felt his hands squeeze her waist.
Dana kept her eyes trained on John as he stepped into the kitchen, door slamming behind him.
“Go ahead Scott. I need to talk with my Papa.”
“You sure?” His reluctance, mixed in with worry for her, rolled off him in waves.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied confidently, willing him to understand that she could cope and would be fine. She knew she needed to handle this solo.
Scott walked out of the room. Nothing else moved.
John and Dana locked eyes. Dana told herself not to blink even though she desperately wanted to back down, beg him not to be mad, get that look off his face.
John broke the stand-off. “I’d ask what the hell is going on here but ‘what the hell is going on here’ is painfully clear.” He took one step toward her, hands on hips.
“Papa. I am eighteen years old. You can’t tell me what the hell I can or can not do. This isn’t your business.”
“Like Hell it’s not my business. My granddaughter in the kitchen with her boyfriend in nothing but robes!” John yelled as he moved another step closer.
“And you were in your living room with Ms. Lutz if I recall, and she was wearing your shirt.” Dana replied smoothly. She knew, intellectually, that baiting him was dangerous territory but her sassy mouth uttered the taunt before she could swallow it down.
“How dare you compare this to that?”
Dana sensed Scott standing outside the door, debating whether or not to rejoin them. He was projecting his thoughts so loudly that there was no escaping them. With a minimum of intrusion, she placed a should just go thought into his head. It was a violation of her pledge never to use her powers on him but only a teeny one. And this was an extreme circumstance.
Dana heard the front door close, Scott heading home. She sighed softly in relief, didn’t want him to hear any more of this. She figured that maybe the Winchesters had finally scared him away for good.
She brought her thoughts back to the situation at hand. One furious John Winchester standing in front of her, glaring at her, shooting daggers with his eyes. She’d seen him this angry before, but never with her. It reminded her vaguely of when she was little, how John used to look at Sam when he thought no one was looking. She hated that look with every fiber of her being.
She pulled herself together and replied firmly to his last question, “How in the world is it different? We’re both consenting adults. No laws broken.”
“Dana Elizabeth. You are a child living under your father’s roof. Having your boyfriend over for a sleepover is not the same thing. Leave my sex life out of this,” he bellowed.
“I am not a child and you will not treat me like one. And calm down, you’re gonna have a stroke.” She struggled for calm herself, felt some control slipping away. “I put a lot of thought into this. It wasn’t some random, one night feel good session.”
She saw the color drain from his face. He squinted his eyes, narrowed them to small slits. He opened his mouth but she’d never know what he would have said to her ill-advised remark because the kitchen door flew open and Dean burst through, covered in dirt, head to toe.
“What the fuck are you two yelling about at 8 in the morning? Could hear you from the driveway. Jesus Christ.”
Dean stopped and looked slowly from Dana to John, realized they were at Defcon 4. “What the hell is going on here? You two look you are about to tear a chunk out of each other.”
John was looking at Dean. Without turning his head, John said quietly, “Go to your room Dana.”
“No Papa,” she replied defiantly.
Dean looked at them again, first one then the other, confused. He shut the door and walked over to Dana, put his arm around her. “Calm down sweetie. Go to your room. Let me talk with him alone.” He kissed her cheek, got a smudge of dirt on her.
Dana nodded and turned to walk out. She stopped, turned back to her Dad. “You’re not hurt are you? Just dirty, right?”
Dean nodded. “Just dirt. Sam too.” With that reassurance, she left and they heard her stomp up the stairs, slam her bedroom door.
Dean turned to John. “What the hell Dad?”
Without hesitation, John launched into it. “I caught her and Scott in robes in the kitchen when I walked in.”
“Shit,” said Dean. “You probably scared Scott to death.”
“WHAT?” John screamed. “That’s your response? Your teenage daughter is having sex in your house and that’s what you have to say? You have got to be kidding me.”
“You have got to be kidding me Dad,” Dean mimicked. “I was catting around at thirteen and you never said one goddamn word to me.”
“That’s different,” John hissed.
“How the fuck is that different?”
“She’s a girl.”
Dean laughed and rubbed his hair, dirt particles flying into the air. “Are you serious? She’s a girl? COME ON.” Dean stared his father down. “She thought it through. Not random. Not off the cuff. Not slutty. She is an adult and she acted like one.”
“She talked to you?” replied John, look transformed from fury to flummoxed.
“Well, mostly to Sam but yeah, we talked. We knew.”
“You KNEW her boyfriend would be sleeping over?” John had recovered from the shocked look and had gone back to anger. He stepped closer to Dean, into his space.
“Not that exactly, No,” Dean admitted.
“What does Sam think about this?” John asked.
“Shit. Sam. Dad, yell at me all you want but please not in front of Sam.”
And, as if on cue, Sam opened the kitchen door and strode in, if possible, even more covered in dirt than Dean.
“Did I hear my name in all that yelling?” Sam asked as Aristotle came running into the kitchen to greet him. Aristotle ran up to Sam, wagging her tail, and threw herself at his feet. Sam set down a duffle bag on the counter and slipped off his shoes.
Dean cleared his throat. “Sam, could you go upstairs and check on Dana? I’ll be up in a second. Let me finish up with Dad.”
Sam wrinkled his brow. “Uh, no, don’t think so.”
John had grown very still. “I’ll just leave,” he said and turned to go.
Dean spoke to John’s back. “Listen Dad. I get why you’re upset. I do. But, it’s okay, really.”
John grunted.
Dean added, “I’ll call you later,” as John opened the door.
John slammed the door behind him.
Sam looked at Dean, “What the fuck was that about?”
Sam and Dean were in the shower, the water was still running off them in brown rivulets. Dirt can get in some odd places when you are climbing through a cave on your stomach trying to track a godforsaken possessed bobcat.
“You okay Sam?”
Sam grunted, “Dirt everywhere” as he rinsed his hair for the second time.
“Not what I meant, dude.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine babe. Really, no bad memories for me today. Feel bad for Dana though. No one should have to face their grandfather like that. Our girl is tough.”
Dean laughed, “I feel bad for Dad. He was really angry. Thought he was gonna burst a blood vessel.”
“Are you okay?” Sam asked as he stepped aside to let Dean rinse his hair.
“I’d love for her to be ten again but she’s not a little girl any more Sam. We have to cope with that.”
It was true. She wasn’t a little girl but Sam could sense that Dean was playing it cooler than he felt, was trying hard to be an understanding ‘modern Dad’.
Sam leaned over and kissed Dean’s newly clean hair. “Let me help you cope baby.” He lowered down to his knees and sucked Dean’s cock into his mouth. Sam heard Dean groan in response and felt his worries about John and Dana drift from his thoughts replaced by a steady stream of , “Fuck yeah Sammy.”
John slammed the door of his apartment shut. His head was killing him. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier with Dana or Dean. No scratch that. He was upset with Dana. But he wanted to choke Dean. How the fuck is his son so fucking fine with his young daughter having sex?
His phone range and he picked it up, recognizing the tone.
“Hi Jamie,” he snapped viciously.
“Whoa – what’s got your panties in a twist?”
“Nothing.”
“Sounds like a lot of nothing. Are we still meeting for breakfast?”
“Come over, I’ll cook.”
She arrived thirty minutes later to the welcoming smells of coffee and bacon.
“You look positively thunderous. ‘Nothing’ must have a different definition from the one I learned.”
He smiled at that, in spite of himself.
She stepped closer. Put her hands on his waist. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. Talk is way overrated. Let me help you relax.”
Her hands drifted to his waist. She undid his belt, kissing him as she lowered his zipper then lowered herself to one knee, licked his cock with a long swipe of her tongue. John thought, Talk is way overrated.
Dana felt the shield go up as soon as Sam and Dean’s door shut, definitely parental alone time going to happen.
Well, they had earned it. They had been great with her. Came to her room. Didn’t comment on the broken glass. Just sat and asked her if she felt okay, if she had questions. Discussed what had happened with Papa. Treated her like their kid, but in a way that didn’t make her feel bad or wrong, just supported and loved.
She thought about Scott. Figured he was probably contemplating a conversion to Catholicism in order to become a priest after this morning. Didn’t blame him in the least if he never spoke to her again. If Scott’s dad had walked in on them, she would have died from embarrassment and Dr. Wu is no where near as scary as John Winchester, and probably not armed either.
Her cell phone rang, Scott’s ring. “Hi Scott,” she answered, hearing the shock in her voice that he wanted to talk to her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Are you sick of the Winchesters yet?”
“A little, but not sick of you. Meet me at the park?”
She felt her mood brighten. “Sure.”
An hour later they were sitting on a bench, holding hands, Dana’s head on Scott’s shoulder. She had spent the last fifteen minutes filling him in on what had transpired after he had departed the kitchen.
“He’ll get over it. Trust me, he’s faced worse sex traumas than this in his life. His very straight son turned out not to be so straight, remember?”
She felt that warm, gooey feeling creep over her, her “Scott mode”. Just his smell relaxed her, drove away the morning’s trauma.
“Our second round was sort of interrupted,” she uttered, coyly.
Scott laughed. “I thought you’d be scarred for life. Should have known better, you’re incorrigible.”
She jumped up. Tugging his hand, she dragged him into the bushes until they were well out of sight. She whispered into his ear, “Too chilly to get naked but there is something I’ve been wanting to try.”
As she was talking, her right hand lowered his zipper, reached into his boxers, pulled out his cock. She stroked it while they kissed, tongues buried deep in one another’s mouths. She pulled out of the kiss and dropped to her knees, kissed the tip of his dick then licked the slit before opening her mouth and welcoming it in.
Scott moaned, “Oh baby.”