Something Wrong, Supernatural, NC-17
Dec. 24th, 2006 11:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: Something Wrong
Characters/Pairing: Sam/John
Word Count: 619
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A take on Sam leaving for Stanford. There’s harsh words and something wrong. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
prophetofdoomy who asked for: spn john/sam slash nc17 bruise. "Do I piss you off that much? Than fine take a swing at me dad."
A/Ns & Warnings: Check the pairing above. Father/Son interaction here. If that squicks you, move along. I wanted this to be longer…but it seemed to want to be a ficlet…so it won. Hope your holidays are wonderful, my dear!
Dean left when the arguing started. Sam was furious and their father was even more so. Dean knew better than to get in between them when it was like this.
Sam threw the door closed behind his brother and rounded on his father. “Is this what you want?” His eyes flashed and anger burned through his body. “You want our last words to be like this?”
“I said no, Sam. You are not leaving. That’s final.”
“Last I checked Dad, I was old enough to make that decision myself.”
“You’re my son. You do as I say.”
Sam snorted. “Since when Dad?”
John was angrier than Sam ever saw him. “I will not have you pulling this family apart-“
“Look around you Dad. We’re already apart. You’re never here, half the time Dean’s gone too. I don’t want to live like this.” Sam tried to storm past him, but John caught him around the shoulders and shoved him back into the room. “What? What Dad? You gonna take a swing? Maybe you should. Maybe that will solve everything.”
“Maybe I should put you over my knee and paddle you.”
“Yeah, maybe you should try.”
Everything spun out of control after that, as John reached for him and he pulled away, tearing his t-shirt nearly off. They wrestled for control, hitting, pulling, growling in anger until somehow they ended up on the floor with Sam in an awkward position. Before either of them could think it through, John yanked the too large jeans down and exposed Sam’s ass, cracking his hand against it hard and fast.
Sam bucked, but his father’s upper body had him pinned. His ass flushed with heat as a third and fourth blow rained down, pressing his hips against John’s legs. To his dismay he felt himself harden, even as John slapped him harder.
Worse, his father felt it too, his hand stopping mid swing. Sam shook, laid out across him, ashamed, his face as red as his stinging ass. He tried to move away, but still John held him.
“It’s okay, Sam,” he said softly, his hand making soft circles now.
“Dad…enough…let me up.”
“Shh…it’s okay.”
John’s big hand left his ass, slipped between his ass and his jeans and wrapped around his hard cock. Sam bucked again, though it only shoved him through his father’s fist. “It’s okay Sammy….relax.”
Sam couldn’t talk…words left him completely as his father stroked him. His free hand held Sam’s hips, fingers digging into the skin, against the bone. They didn’t look at one another…they didn’t speak…John pulled and twisted and Sam couldn’t help the way his hips moved or the moans and whimpers that escaped him, and then…just like that he was coming into his father’s hand and against his leg.
Sam sobbed and rolled away, pulling his jeans up to cover his sore flesh, his back to his father. He climbed to his feet while his father sat silent and unmoving on the floor.
“I didn’t have to tell you.” Sam said after the silence had stretched far too long. “I could have just…gone.”
John nodded, not looking up. Sam wiped at tears and moved toward his bedroom slowly. “Maybe you should have taken the punch.”
Alone in his room, Sam hitched up his hip and tugged his jeans down so he could see in the mirror, watching as three finger shaped bruises rose to the surface. At least here, he could hide them easier. Dean wouldn’t see them…wouldn’t know. For once Sam had something from his father that wasn’t Dean’s first.
It wasn’t enough. Not to keep him from leaving, but it was something. Fucked up and wrong and his face still flushed with shame…but something.
Title: Something Wrong
Characters/Pairing: Sam/John
Word Count: 619
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A take on Sam leaving for Stanford. There’s harsh words and something wrong. For
prophetofdoomy who asked for: spn john/sam slash nc17 bruise. "Do I piss you off that much? Than fine take a swing at me dad."A/Ns & Warnings: Check the pairing above. Father/Son interaction here. If that squicks you, move along. I wanted this to be longer…but it seemed to want to be a ficlet…so it won. Hope your holidays are wonderful, my dear!
Dean left when the arguing started. Sam was furious and their father was even more so. Dean knew better than to get in between them when it was like this.
Sam threw the door closed behind his brother and rounded on his father. “Is this what you want?” His eyes flashed and anger burned through his body. “You want our last words to be like this?”
“I said no, Sam. You are not leaving. That’s final.”
“Last I checked Dad, I was old enough to make that decision myself.”
“You’re my son. You do as I say.”
Sam snorted. “Since when Dad?”
John was angrier than Sam ever saw him. “I will not have you pulling this family apart-“
“Look around you Dad. We’re already apart. You’re never here, half the time Dean’s gone too. I don’t want to live like this.” Sam tried to storm past him, but John caught him around the shoulders and shoved him back into the room. “What? What Dad? You gonna take a swing? Maybe you should. Maybe that will solve everything.”
“Maybe I should put you over my knee and paddle you.”
“Yeah, maybe you should try.”
Everything spun out of control after that, as John reached for him and he pulled away, tearing his t-shirt nearly off. They wrestled for control, hitting, pulling, growling in anger until somehow they ended up on the floor with Sam in an awkward position. Before either of them could think it through, John yanked the too large jeans down and exposed Sam’s ass, cracking his hand against it hard and fast.
Sam bucked, but his father’s upper body had him pinned. His ass flushed with heat as a third and fourth blow rained down, pressing his hips against John’s legs. To his dismay he felt himself harden, even as John slapped him harder.
Worse, his father felt it too, his hand stopping mid swing. Sam shook, laid out across him, ashamed, his face as red as his stinging ass. He tried to move away, but still John held him.
“It’s okay, Sam,” he said softly, his hand making soft circles now.
“Dad…enough…let me up.”
“Shh…it’s okay.”
John’s big hand left his ass, slipped between his ass and his jeans and wrapped around his hard cock. Sam bucked again, though it only shoved him through his father’s fist. “It’s okay Sammy….relax.”
Sam couldn’t talk…words left him completely as his father stroked him. His free hand held Sam’s hips, fingers digging into the skin, against the bone. They didn’t look at one another…they didn’t speak…John pulled and twisted and Sam couldn’t help the way his hips moved or the moans and whimpers that escaped him, and then…just like that he was coming into his father’s hand and against his leg.
Sam sobbed and rolled away, pulling his jeans up to cover his sore flesh, his back to his father. He climbed to his feet while his father sat silent and unmoving on the floor.
“I didn’t have to tell you.” Sam said after the silence had stretched far too long. “I could have just…gone.”
John nodded, not looking up. Sam wiped at tears and moved toward his bedroom slowly. “Maybe you should have taken the punch.”
Alone in his room, Sam hitched up his hip and tugged his jeans down so he could see in the mirror, watching as three finger shaped bruises rose to the surface. At least here, he could hide them easier. Dean wouldn’t see them…wouldn’t know. For once Sam had something from his father that wasn’t Dean’s first.
It wasn’t enough. Not to keep him from leaving, but it was something. Fucked up and wrong and his face still flushed with shame…but something.
