apfelgranate: #It’s bright out when Sam tells...

February 4, 2012

#It’s bright out when Sam tells Dean and Dad that he’s leaving for Stanford because he’s so fucking sick of this life, but all Dean can see is the dark smudges under Sam’s eyes, the way his lips look like they’ve been kissed too hard, how he’s standing like he’s expecting a punch. Dad yells and yells and yells and drives Sam out of their lives in two point five seconds and Dean doesn’t even get a chance to say anything. But, later, when Sam’s furiously packing his bags, Dean says, stay. Says, don’t leave. Please. Sam looks wrecked, a little used up, and way too tired for a seventeen year old. It makes Dean’s heart ache, makes him angry, so he muffles a sob against Sam’s mouth and brings them both down onto the bed. Please, please, please don’t- Sam interrupts with, I love you. I’ve always loved- Dean can’t bear it, can hardly speak, so he yanks Sam’s shirt off, eats up Sam’s moan, and grips his hair. Please, he says one last time and digs bruises into Sam’s hips as he pushes him higher up the bed. Dean, take care of yourself, Sam whispers, and Dean’s movements suddenly switch from needy to furious. Fucking selfish bastard, he growls into Sam’s ear, drags his fingers down his jaw, licks into his mouth, scratches up his belly. I hate you, he says, sounding broken and pathetic, and pushes away to yank to Sam’s jeans off. He thinks, gonna fuck you so you’ll be ruined for anyone else. He thinks, I love you.

(via deanwinchesterinmybed)

Filed under queue wincest forever reblog