There's a devil... (Sam/Carmen plus Sam/Dean, nc-17, 2811 words)
spn_j2_bigbang reveals went up today and I have been desperate to squee about this ever since I saw her claim my summary! wanttobeatree makes me very happy.
Work sucked to the nth degree today (where n is a number not less than 3 billion) and I coped by writing angsty porn. Title from Nick Cave - again.
There's a devil waiting outside your door
(Sam/Carmen plus Sam/Dean, nc-17, 2811 words, warning for infidelity)
Sam's the kind of guy you can't say no to. An au of the Wish-verse, kind of.
"He's a geek," says Dean. "I mean, he's a pretty cool geek. C'mon, he's my brother, he's not gonna be a complete loss. But he's a geek. Kind of guy who probably doesn't know there's porn on the internet, y'know?"
So Carmen isn't expecting Sam. Neat and tall and smart. His hand closes around hers, warm and powerful, as Dean introduces them. His smile is polite, distant. Then he looks at Dean and the smile goes even further away.
Dean talks about Sam with a patronising indulgence. "Aw hell, I don't know what he's doing at school. Law, maybe. I dunno. Doing pretty good at it though, I think. Whatever it is." It takes Carmen seven months to hear the bewildered awe in his voice when he talks about his brother.
Sammy's a geek, a nerd, too into his books and studying to even know how to check the oil on his car.
Sammy's some mysterious alien creature, too far evolved past Dean's understanding for him to figure out.
Both men exist at once in Dean's mind, both occupying the space of 'Sam'.
:::
She doesn't know how it starts. She isn't expecting it because she loves Dean. And sure, she wishes he wouldn't pass out dead-drunk on the couch so often, that he wouldn't get engine grease all over the kitchen, that he'd pretend not to notice when pretty girls check him out. But she loves him and she's not looking for anyone else.
And she sure as hell isn't looking for Sam.
It starts in the summer. A dry Kansas summer. Sam and Jess are visiting Mary before they take off on a vacation to somewhere exotic and foreign. Mary and Jess are sitting on the porch, Jess at Mary's feet, talking in soft, tired murmurs. Sam is reading through some of Mary's legal papers for her, sitting among the carefully organised piles of them. And Dean is washing the Impala. Damp t-shirt clinging to the strong lines of his shoulders and back as he leans over the hood, hands sweeping through the soapsuds sliding over the glistening black metal. The soap bubbles shimmer fairy pink and lilac and powder blue in the sunshine.
There have been no lingering looks, no accidental touches. Sam hasn't said a single thing to her that could be made into anything remotely flirtatious. Carmen's been treated with friendliness and respect but nothing more. So it starts when she goes into the kitchen to fetch Dean a bottle of beer and turns around to see Sam's followed her in.
It starts when Sam kisses her and she lets him. His tongue licks her lips open for him. It's deep and slow and filthy.
The chilled bottle slips from her loose fingers and smashes on the kitchen floor. Tiny golden bubbles of beer fizz among shards of glass and Carmen stands there, staring at them, the sensation of Sam's mouth on hers still hot inside her. She looks up at him and, after a second, Sam reaches past her to the cupboard under the sink and finds a cloth.
"I'll tidy this up," he says.
:::
Three months later, Sam's chest is plastered to her back and he's pushing into her from behind. One of his hands is planted on the mattress, the other is pressed between her shoulder blades, keeping her pinned to the bed and her ass canted up to him. As the head of his cock nudges against the slippery, swollen lips of her cunt, a long breath shivers loose from deep inside Carmen.
Beneath their bodies, the sheets are rumpled and soiled. It's the bed Carmen shares with Dean and when the weight of Sam on top of her crushes her face into the pillow, she smells Dean. Her skin is hot and flushed, her face damp with sweat and tears. Sam's spent almost an hour sinking his fingers into her, playing with her and making her sob with arousal.
Sam's cock sliding into her is a sudden hardness in a place that feels wet and tender. Both satisfying and too much. She squeezes her eyes shut and tears roll down her sticky cheeks.
She desperately wants to not want this.
:::
Dean's got a thing about monster movies. Can't get enough of 'em. It's not something he'll admit - too geeky - but the smile on his face as he and Carmen curl up on the couch in front of Mothra late one evening says it all.
His arm is around Carmen's shoulders and she snuggles into him, wrapping her own arm over his chest and tucking her head into the crook of his neck. She breathes him in, the sweat and beer and engine oil still lingering on his skin beneath the citrus tang of his soap. His eyes are soft and heavy with sleep, long lashes fluttering darkly as he tries to stay awake. The inside of Carmen's thigh is draped over his groin, intimate and comfortable.
"We should get married," Dean says.
On the tv screen, buildings topple and crowds flee, screaming, for their lives. Carmen tilts her face up to Dean's, takes in his too pretty profile, hooded green eyes fixed on Mothra's rampage.
Sam's huge hand on her thigh, Sam's lips closing about her nipple, Sam's cock spreading her cunt wide open.
"We should," she says.
:::
Jess leans in towards the restroom mirror and paints the bow of her lips with pearlescent pink gloss. She offers it to Carmen once she's done, drops it back in her purse when Carmen declines.
"God, I hate how hot these places get," she says. "My curls just go to frizz. I'd kill for your hair."
Carmen dabs powder over her shiny cheeks, the tip of her nose. She feels sweaty and dirty. Even the restrooms of the bar are crowded and too hot. Or maybe it's the guilt laying thick on her skin. Because Jess is so nice and Sam seems to be finding a hundred different ways to get too close to Carmen tonight.
"You wanna call it a night?" she says, trying hard to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.
But Jess shakes her head and smiles at her in the mirror.
"I really want us to be able to do this more often. I think Sam really hates how things have broken down between him and Dean, especially with us in California and you guys back here. He seemed fixed on us all coming out together tonight and things are going so well, don't you think?"
Carmen says, "Oh yeah. Really well, " and tries not to be sick.
:::
They announce their engagement at a barbecue at Mary's. Mary squeals and wraps her arms around Carmen and Jess presses a kiss to her cheek. When she steps back, she's in time to see Sam shaking Dean's hand. His gaze flicks away from Sam, away from whatever Sam's saying to him, straight to her. And Dean's so intent on Carmen that he doesn't notice he's not the only one. Carmen can't smile for Dean without it being for Sam too.
As soon as she can, she takes refuge in the house. Wandering through the shade and serenity of Dean's childhood home. Except
"This was my nursery," says Sam.
He's standing in the doorway behind her and Carmen takes one look back at him over her shoulder then goes back to staring out the window. Dean's flipping burgers at the grill, the air dancing with heat around him. The St Christopher's around his neck flashes in the sunshine. He doesn't look up and see her, but he could.
The floorboards creak as Sam moves to stand right behind her. His fingers trickle over her legs as he hitches up her faded floral sundress. She doesn't stop him. Taking her hands in his, Sam braces them against the window frame. By the time he's sliding her panties down her thighs, she's already filthy wet for him, all but dripping. His fingers, so long and deft, draw circles about her clit until she's gasping, her cunt clenching tight and hungry, her hips jerking helplessly.
He catches hold of her, keeps her steady as he thrusts into her. Carmen moans and rocks back against him. His grip on her tightens, trapping her close, one hand squeezing her breast and the other fingering her, slippery and sloppy, even as his cock grinds deeper into her. The sound of them fucking is thick and nasty but Sam doesn't talk to her. He never talks to her. Doesn't talk dirty or say he loves her. Doesn’t even say her name when he comes.
Outside, Dean grins at something Jess has said to him and rubs his wrist over his forehead, wiping away sweat.
Sam's chin is sharp and digs into Carmen's shoulder as they both gaze out the window.
:::
Later, when Dean playfully slaps her ass for declining any 'real' meat in favour of a veggie burger, Carmen feels Sam's come still sticky and dribbling down her thighs.
:::
When Dean finds out, Carmen would like to say that she was close to ending it. She's not. It's Christmas and Sam and Jess are in town and it's probably her text to Sam that's given her away. And she'd probably have gone on screwing around with Sam for as long as they both wanted. She wasn't going to stop until something made her. Dean finding out is just that. It stops her.
He calls her at the hospital, his voice slurred with drink. As angry as he is upset.
"How could you? My own brother? My own fucking brother? How the fuck could you do that?"
It'd be a relief. Carmen would be relieved that she didn’t have to be that woman anymore, if only Dean didn't sound to be hurting so badly. She manages to get off her shift early, crying family drama. She calls and leaves a voicemail for Sam and then heads back to the apartment. She finds Dean on the couch, trembling with barely constrained emotion, and absolutely stinking of alcohol. His eyes are red-rimmed, his cheeks blotchy. When he looks at her, the depth of betrayal and open pain she sees there gives her a blank, selfish moment of wonder that he loved her so much.
"I'm so sorry," she says. Like that's going to make any difference.
He cringes and looks away from her, lips rolling back into a shaky snarl. His knuckles are split and raw and she takes in the disarray of their apartment: a chair knocked over, the glass smashed in the framed photo of her on the beach. There's a mostly empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table in front of him, the lid missing and no glass in sight.
"I'm sorry," she says again. "I don't have any excuse. Just… I couldn't tell him no. I'm so sorry. Please, baby, I'll do anything to make this right."
His gaze snaps back to her and she can see in his eyes just how fucking pointless a thing it is for her to offer. There isn't anything she can do to make this right. She made it wrong and there's no going back from that. And it's only now it's broken that she can see how much it meant to her when it was whole. She was happy with Dean. She loved Dean.
"I know why he did it. You're just payback, Carm," Dean says, bitter and drunk. "You know that? Payback for the credit card of his I stole, for all the times I banged some girl he liked. Just payback, Carmen. But… I don't get why you'd-"
He breaks off, rubs his mouth until his lips are swollen and glistening. They go on in silence until there's a knock at the door. Sam stands there, tall and dark-eyed, apparently unfazed by being caught out. Carmen isn't going to let him in but Dean sees him, staggers to his feet, and Sam brushes past her into the apartment.
Sam doesn't say anything, he just watches Dean sway unsteadily. A moment passes, pregnant and unpleasant. And then Dean throws a punch at Sam, wildly off target, and is slammed off his feet by the force of Sam's fist into his jaw. He crashes down onto the coffee table, his breath knocked out of his lungs as he sprawls amidst splintered wood and shattered glass. Blood trickles sluggishly from Dean's split lip and there's a dazed look in his eyes, like his alcohol-deadened brain is trying to figure out what just happened.
Slowly but deliberately, Sam moves to stand over Dean and then drops to one knee, half-straddling him. He fists the front of Dean's t-shirt and hauls him closer, pulling his shoulders up out of the debris. Dean hangs loose in his grip, too drunk to even think to struggle.
Carmen takes an instinctive step towards them but Sam's face turns in her direction. And she's never seen that expression on his face before. Not all the times he was fucking her or giving her those secret looks.
"Can you give me some time with my brother?" is all he says.
:::
It's five hours later when she goes back. She doesn't know what she expects to find, only that she can't walk the streets any longer, waiting for the world to end. If it's over then she needs to know it.
The apartment is quiet and hushed. There's been a cursory attempt at tidying up. The wood and glass have been swept up, the chair's been stood up, the broken coffee table's shoved into the corner. Carmen moves through to the bedroom and finds Dean tucked up in bed, sleeping off the whiskey.
There's no sign of Sam.
:::
When Sam next comes to Lawrence, it's two months later and Carmen and Dean are still together. They're not happy but neither of them has suggested breaking up. Dean's different now, turned in on himself. Drinks more, talks less. When they fuck, it's dead, meaningless. Worst of all, Carmen thinks they both still love each other.
She expects them to see as little of Sam and Jess while they're in town as can be politely managed. But the same day they arrive, Dean and Carmen are there at Mary's waiting for them. Jess is painfully pleased to see them both, her face lit up with her smile. And then Sam moves over to greet them both. He lays a kiss on Carmen's cheek, his body dangerously close to hers for a moment, his breath on her skin making her dizzy, and then he lets her go and reaches out to Dean. Dean keeps his gaze averted as they shake hands and pulls away just a second too soon.
They go for a picnic in the park. Fresh green leaves waving on the branches and the sunshine washes clear and golden over them. Dean hasn't told Carmen what happened after she left that night and there hasn't been a tactful way for her to ask. So she doesn't know whether Sam's sorry or unrepentant, totally past it or liable to try again. Whatever the situation is, she can't relax.
She's determined to stick close to Dean's side, whether he wants her there or not. Because if she's with Dean then Sam can't. But that only works if Dean will stick close to her. And he doesn't. Abruptly, halfway through Carmen opening a bottle of beer for him, he gets to his feet, mutters something about stretching his legs and stalks off into the trees. Carmen stares after him and thinks maybe she should go with him.
She thinks about it just a second too long because it's Sam who smiles and rolls his eyes affectionately. Sam who says, "Guess I'd better see what's got into him."
"Isn't it adorable?" Jess says once Sam's gone. "It's so awesome they're friends again now. I hated it when they didn't even talk outside of holidays. But Sam was so excited about seeing Dean again."
Carmen nods and smiles and all the while some new, strange horror is settling in the pit of her stomach.
:::
Much later, when she sees the bruised mark of mouth and teeth at the nape of Dean's neck, Carmen takes a breath and hates Sam with everything she has. She fights down the howl of misery trying to escape from her throat.
"It wasn't payback, was it?" she says. "Sam and me… wasn't about me at all. I was just… the next best thing, a stepping stone."
Dean goes very still, shoulders hunched and his eyes fixed on her warily, nothing but a cornered animal. Then he straightens up and smiles without anything warm or happy to it.
"What fucking hope did I have of telling him no?"
~end
Het porn today and possibly mpreg next week - I should expect mass defriendings, right?
Work sucked to the nth degree today (where n is a number not less than 3 billion) and I coped by writing angsty porn. Title from Nick Cave - again.
There's a devil waiting outside your door
(Sam/Carmen plus Sam/Dean, nc-17, 2811 words, warning for infidelity)
Sam's the kind of guy you can't say no to. An au of the Wish-verse, kind of.
"He's a geek," says Dean. "I mean, he's a pretty cool geek. C'mon, he's my brother, he's not gonna be a complete loss. But he's a geek. Kind of guy who probably doesn't know there's porn on the internet, y'know?"
So Carmen isn't expecting Sam. Neat and tall and smart. His hand closes around hers, warm and powerful, as Dean introduces them. His smile is polite, distant. Then he looks at Dean and the smile goes even further away.
Dean talks about Sam with a patronising indulgence. "Aw hell, I don't know what he's doing at school. Law, maybe. I dunno. Doing pretty good at it though, I think. Whatever it is." It takes Carmen seven months to hear the bewildered awe in his voice when he talks about his brother.
Sammy's a geek, a nerd, too into his books and studying to even know how to check the oil on his car.
Sammy's some mysterious alien creature, too far evolved past Dean's understanding for him to figure out.
Both men exist at once in Dean's mind, both occupying the space of 'Sam'.
:::
She doesn't know how it starts. She isn't expecting it because she loves Dean. And sure, she wishes he wouldn't pass out dead-drunk on the couch so often, that he wouldn't get engine grease all over the kitchen, that he'd pretend not to notice when pretty girls check him out. But she loves him and she's not looking for anyone else.
And she sure as hell isn't looking for Sam.
It starts in the summer. A dry Kansas summer. Sam and Jess are visiting Mary before they take off on a vacation to somewhere exotic and foreign. Mary and Jess are sitting on the porch, Jess at Mary's feet, talking in soft, tired murmurs. Sam is reading through some of Mary's legal papers for her, sitting among the carefully organised piles of them. And Dean is washing the Impala. Damp t-shirt clinging to the strong lines of his shoulders and back as he leans over the hood, hands sweeping through the soapsuds sliding over the glistening black metal. The soap bubbles shimmer fairy pink and lilac and powder blue in the sunshine.
There have been no lingering looks, no accidental touches. Sam hasn't said a single thing to her that could be made into anything remotely flirtatious. Carmen's been treated with friendliness and respect but nothing more. So it starts when she goes into the kitchen to fetch Dean a bottle of beer and turns around to see Sam's followed her in.
It starts when Sam kisses her and she lets him. His tongue licks her lips open for him. It's deep and slow and filthy.
The chilled bottle slips from her loose fingers and smashes on the kitchen floor. Tiny golden bubbles of beer fizz among shards of glass and Carmen stands there, staring at them, the sensation of Sam's mouth on hers still hot inside her. She looks up at him and, after a second, Sam reaches past her to the cupboard under the sink and finds a cloth.
"I'll tidy this up," he says.
:::
Three months later, Sam's chest is plastered to her back and he's pushing into her from behind. One of his hands is planted on the mattress, the other is pressed between her shoulder blades, keeping her pinned to the bed and her ass canted up to him. As the head of his cock nudges against the slippery, swollen lips of her cunt, a long breath shivers loose from deep inside Carmen.
Beneath their bodies, the sheets are rumpled and soiled. It's the bed Carmen shares with Dean and when the weight of Sam on top of her crushes her face into the pillow, she smells Dean. Her skin is hot and flushed, her face damp with sweat and tears. Sam's spent almost an hour sinking his fingers into her, playing with her and making her sob with arousal.
Sam's cock sliding into her is a sudden hardness in a place that feels wet and tender. Both satisfying and too much. She squeezes her eyes shut and tears roll down her sticky cheeks.
She desperately wants to not want this.
:::
Dean's got a thing about monster movies. Can't get enough of 'em. It's not something he'll admit - too geeky - but the smile on his face as he and Carmen curl up on the couch in front of Mothra late one evening says it all.
His arm is around Carmen's shoulders and she snuggles into him, wrapping her own arm over his chest and tucking her head into the crook of his neck. She breathes him in, the sweat and beer and engine oil still lingering on his skin beneath the citrus tang of his soap. His eyes are soft and heavy with sleep, long lashes fluttering darkly as he tries to stay awake. The inside of Carmen's thigh is draped over his groin, intimate and comfortable.
"We should get married," Dean says.
On the tv screen, buildings topple and crowds flee, screaming, for their lives. Carmen tilts her face up to Dean's, takes in his too pretty profile, hooded green eyes fixed on Mothra's rampage.
Sam's huge hand on her thigh, Sam's lips closing about her nipple, Sam's cock spreading her cunt wide open.
"We should," she says.
:::
Jess leans in towards the restroom mirror and paints the bow of her lips with pearlescent pink gloss. She offers it to Carmen once she's done, drops it back in her purse when Carmen declines.
"God, I hate how hot these places get," she says. "My curls just go to frizz. I'd kill for your hair."
Carmen dabs powder over her shiny cheeks, the tip of her nose. She feels sweaty and dirty. Even the restrooms of the bar are crowded and too hot. Or maybe it's the guilt laying thick on her skin. Because Jess is so nice and Sam seems to be finding a hundred different ways to get too close to Carmen tonight.
"You wanna call it a night?" she says, trying hard to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.
But Jess shakes her head and smiles at her in the mirror.
"I really want us to be able to do this more often. I think Sam really hates how things have broken down between him and Dean, especially with us in California and you guys back here. He seemed fixed on us all coming out together tonight and things are going so well, don't you think?"
Carmen says, "Oh yeah. Really well, " and tries not to be sick.
:::
They announce their engagement at a barbecue at Mary's. Mary squeals and wraps her arms around Carmen and Jess presses a kiss to her cheek. When she steps back, she's in time to see Sam shaking Dean's hand. His gaze flicks away from Sam, away from whatever Sam's saying to him, straight to her. And Dean's so intent on Carmen that he doesn't notice he's not the only one. Carmen can't smile for Dean without it being for Sam too.
As soon as she can, she takes refuge in the house. Wandering through the shade and serenity of Dean's childhood home. Except
"This was my nursery," says Sam.
He's standing in the doorway behind her and Carmen takes one look back at him over her shoulder then goes back to staring out the window. Dean's flipping burgers at the grill, the air dancing with heat around him. The St Christopher's around his neck flashes in the sunshine. He doesn't look up and see her, but he could.
The floorboards creak as Sam moves to stand right behind her. His fingers trickle over her legs as he hitches up her faded floral sundress. She doesn't stop him. Taking her hands in his, Sam braces them against the window frame. By the time he's sliding her panties down her thighs, she's already filthy wet for him, all but dripping. His fingers, so long and deft, draw circles about her clit until she's gasping, her cunt clenching tight and hungry, her hips jerking helplessly.
He catches hold of her, keeps her steady as he thrusts into her. Carmen moans and rocks back against him. His grip on her tightens, trapping her close, one hand squeezing her breast and the other fingering her, slippery and sloppy, even as his cock grinds deeper into her. The sound of them fucking is thick and nasty but Sam doesn't talk to her. He never talks to her. Doesn't talk dirty or say he loves her. Doesn’t even say her name when he comes.
Outside, Dean grins at something Jess has said to him and rubs his wrist over his forehead, wiping away sweat.
Sam's chin is sharp and digs into Carmen's shoulder as they both gaze out the window.
:::
Later, when Dean playfully slaps her ass for declining any 'real' meat in favour of a veggie burger, Carmen feels Sam's come still sticky and dribbling down her thighs.
:::
When Dean finds out, Carmen would like to say that she was close to ending it. She's not. It's Christmas and Sam and Jess are in town and it's probably her text to Sam that's given her away. And she'd probably have gone on screwing around with Sam for as long as they both wanted. She wasn't going to stop until something made her. Dean finding out is just that. It stops her.
He calls her at the hospital, his voice slurred with drink. As angry as he is upset.
"How could you? My own brother? My own fucking brother? How the fuck could you do that?"
It'd be a relief. Carmen would be relieved that she didn’t have to be that woman anymore, if only Dean didn't sound to be hurting so badly. She manages to get off her shift early, crying family drama. She calls and leaves a voicemail for Sam and then heads back to the apartment. She finds Dean on the couch, trembling with barely constrained emotion, and absolutely stinking of alcohol. His eyes are red-rimmed, his cheeks blotchy. When he looks at her, the depth of betrayal and open pain she sees there gives her a blank, selfish moment of wonder that he loved her so much.
"I'm so sorry," she says. Like that's going to make any difference.
He cringes and looks away from her, lips rolling back into a shaky snarl. His knuckles are split and raw and she takes in the disarray of their apartment: a chair knocked over, the glass smashed in the framed photo of her on the beach. There's a mostly empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table in front of him, the lid missing and no glass in sight.
"I'm sorry," she says again. "I don't have any excuse. Just… I couldn't tell him no. I'm so sorry. Please, baby, I'll do anything to make this right."
His gaze snaps back to her and she can see in his eyes just how fucking pointless a thing it is for her to offer. There isn't anything she can do to make this right. She made it wrong and there's no going back from that. And it's only now it's broken that she can see how much it meant to her when it was whole. She was happy with Dean. She loved Dean.
"I know why he did it. You're just payback, Carm," Dean says, bitter and drunk. "You know that? Payback for the credit card of his I stole, for all the times I banged some girl he liked. Just payback, Carmen. But… I don't get why you'd-"
He breaks off, rubs his mouth until his lips are swollen and glistening. They go on in silence until there's a knock at the door. Sam stands there, tall and dark-eyed, apparently unfazed by being caught out. Carmen isn't going to let him in but Dean sees him, staggers to his feet, and Sam brushes past her into the apartment.
Sam doesn't say anything, he just watches Dean sway unsteadily. A moment passes, pregnant and unpleasant. And then Dean throws a punch at Sam, wildly off target, and is slammed off his feet by the force of Sam's fist into his jaw. He crashes down onto the coffee table, his breath knocked out of his lungs as he sprawls amidst splintered wood and shattered glass. Blood trickles sluggishly from Dean's split lip and there's a dazed look in his eyes, like his alcohol-deadened brain is trying to figure out what just happened.
Slowly but deliberately, Sam moves to stand over Dean and then drops to one knee, half-straddling him. He fists the front of Dean's t-shirt and hauls him closer, pulling his shoulders up out of the debris. Dean hangs loose in his grip, too drunk to even think to struggle.
Carmen takes an instinctive step towards them but Sam's face turns in her direction. And she's never seen that expression on his face before. Not all the times he was fucking her or giving her those secret looks.
"Can you give me some time with my brother?" is all he says.
:::
It's five hours later when she goes back. She doesn't know what she expects to find, only that she can't walk the streets any longer, waiting for the world to end. If it's over then she needs to know it.
The apartment is quiet and hushed. There's been a cursory attempt at tidying up. The wood and glass have been swept up, the chair's been stood up, the broken coffee table's shoved into the corner. Carmen moves through to the bedroom and finds Dean tucked up in bed, sleeping off the whiskey.
There's no sign of Sam.
:::
When Sam next comes to Lawrence, it's two months later and Carmen and Dean are still together. They're not happy but neither of them has suggested breaking up. Dean's different now, turned in on himself. Drinks more, talks less. When they fuck, it's dead, meaningless. Worst of all, Carmen thinks they both still love each other.
She expects them to see as little of Sam and Jess while they're in town as can be politely managed. But the same day they arrive, Dean and Carmen are there at Mary's waiting for them. Jess is painfully pleased to see them both, her face lit up with her smile. And then Sam moves over to greet them both. He lays a kiss on Carmen's cheek, his body dangerously close to hers for a moment, his breath on her skin making her dizzy, and then he lets her go and reaches out to Dean. Dean keeps his gaze averted as they shake hands and pulls away just a second too soon.
They go for a picnic in the park. Fresh green leaves waving on the branches and the sunshine washes clear and golden over them. Dean hasn't told Carmen what happened after she left that night and there hasn't been a tactful way for her to ask. So she doesn't know whether Sam's sorry or unrepentant, totally past it or liable to try again. Whatever the situation is, she can't relax.
She's determined to stick close to Dean's side, whether he wants her there or not. Because if she's with Dean then Sam can't. But that only works if Dean will stick close to her. And he doesn't. Abruptly, halfway through Carmen opening a bottle of beer for him, he gets to his feet, mutters something about stretching his legs and stalks off into the trees. Carmen stares after him and thinks maybe she should go with him.
She thinks about it just a second too long because it's Sam who smiles and rolls his eyes affectionately. Sam who says, "Guess I'd better see what's got into him."
"Isn't it adorable?" Jess says once Sam's gone. "It's so awesome they're friends again now. I hated it when they didn't even talk outside of holidays. But Sam was so excited about seeing Dean again."
Carmen nods and smiles and all the while some new, strange horror is settling in the pit of her stomach.
:::
Much later, when she sees the bruised mark of mouth and teeth at the nape of Dean's neck, Carmen takes a breath and hates Sam with everything she has. She fights down the howl of misery trying to escape from her throat.
"It wasn't payback, was it?" she says. "Sam and me… wasn't about me at all. I was just… the next best thing, a stepping stone."
Dean goes very still, shoulders hunched and his eyes fixed on her warily, nothing but a cornered animal. Then he straightens up and smiles without anything warm or happy to it.
"What fucking hope did I have of telling him no?"
~end
Het porn today and possibly mpreg next week - I should expect mass defriendings, right?