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Crappy Craftsmanship

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The first time Dawn Summers and Sam Winchester met, it was because of their siblings. Dean and Buffy had met years earlier; it just so happened that their little siblings had been with them when they met the second time. It was as Buffy and Dean disappeared that Dawn and Sam struck up an awkward conversation—mainly to distract themselves from what was going on in the hotel room opposite them.

That awkward conversation had turned into a genuine one as they figured out they had a lot of in common. They talked about their college life and what had caused them to leave it behind; they talked about their favorite foods. They had been so busy talking that they hadn’t noticed with Buffy and Dean came back.

A steady friendship had started and grew between them.

Now—at two a.m. she was readying to leave his hotel room after a hunt well done that had been filled with drinking—that comfortable, warm friendship sparked into something else. If they were both being honest with themselves, it had been building between them for a while. The spark had been there always. Alcohol had just served as a fan to the fire.

“Hey,” Sam called as she opened the door. She turned and blinked as she caught him so close to her. She looked up at him.

“What’s up, Sam?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. Sam licked his lips and bit the bottom slightly. “Sa-!” His lips smashed over hers. The force of his kiss knocked her body back into the door and slammed it shut. She gasped against his mouth but there was no protest; if anything, it seemed to excite her further. His hands fell from her hips to her thighs. She could tell what he wanted when he pulled her forward. She hopped up and wrapped her legs around his hips. And instantly she could feel him. She moaned quietly against his lips. Suddenly, she wanted him. That spark that existed between them erupted into a raging fire.

As their lips pressed together again in a needy meeting, she worked on undressing him. She wasn’t willing to ignore her body’s cries any longer. Her hands shot into his jacket, ripping it from his shoulders. Before the tan, thick material even hit the ground, she was busy popping the buttons to his plaid shirt.

His own hands gripped her head, keeping her from pulling away (as if she wanted too) as he kissed her. His lips were punishing and hard against hers: a testament to the anger that always seemed to be shimmering within him. She loved every second of his kisses. A startled, needy gasp escaped her lips as he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled it.

Her fingertips brushed her stomach and his, unable to go any further. She grimaced and dropped her legs from around his hips. She used the door as added leverage and shoved him away from her firmly. He stumbled back only a few steps and glared at her. She ignored it and finished undoing the buttons. She shoved that off of his shoulders and instantly grabbed for the hem of his T-shirt. She jerked it over his head and threw it in a random direction. Before she could fully appreciate the chest she had just revealed, his hands seized her waist. She gasped out as he swung her up; her legs locked back around his hips as he turned and walked toward the table.

She planted kisses on his neck and shoulders as he leaned forward and swiped everything off of the table. Books, knives, and a glass crashed to the carpet. Before her bottom even touched the wood, his lips were back on hers.

As his hands slipped underneath her black “Led Zeppelin” tank top, a small voice—the only one that hadn’t been drown out by the copious amount of alcohol she had consumed and the feel of his lips and hands on her skin—whispered that this wasn’t her, that this was a mistake; thankfully, that voice was smothered by the fire her partner was igniting in her as he pulled her upper lip into his mouth and pinched it between his teeth. She pulled him closer with her legs and ground against him. He groaned into her mouth and pushed back. She gave a breathy gasp against his lips.

He pulled away only enough to strip her of her tank top. He rained bites and kisses on her neck as his hand fiddled with the button of her jeans. The sound of the zipper dropping sliced through the heated air. She swallowed, braced herself against his shoulders, and lifted her hips, helping him undress her. He tossed them away and came back to her quickly. A moan escaped her lips as he found that spot on her collarbone right next to her bra strap. His lips traced the strap and then ghosted over the skin that swelled from the cups of her bra. She shivered and involuntarily arched her back, pressing his lips harder against her skin. He obliged her and licked a path along the cup. His hands slipped behind her, tugging at the clasps, as he sucked the swell of her breast. He pulled back and slipped the bra from her shoulders. He tossed it over his shoulder and returned to her breasts. He paid the right the same attention he had been previously paying her left. As his mouth worked over her right breast, his hand came up to toy with the left. He rolled her nipple between his fingers as he lightly scrapped her nipple with his teeth. She hissed quietly and grabbed for the edge of the table. He kissed down her stomach to the rim of her panties and slipped his fingers into the sides. His nails scrapped down her hips and thighs as he slipped them off.

“This is getting a little unfair,” she breathed as he stepped back between her legs.

“What is?” He asked as he looked down at her. His eyes and his voice were filled with so much heat, so much lust for her that it momentarily dazed her. Dawn raised her hand to his chest and ran a finger down; she skimmed them just over his low-slung jeans. The look in his eyes became a little more intense as she played along the rim of his jeans, scratching.

“You’re still dressed and I’m all naked. How is that fair?” She asked as she moved forward, unable to ignore the call of his chest. She kissed the skin above his heart before moving down and wrapping her lips around his nipple. She bit down gently. He gave a quiet moan. She jerked in surprise as his fingers slipped between her legs. She moaned as his thumb found that little bundle of nerves. He rolled his thumb gently over it before pinching softly. She jerked toward his hand and grit her teeth.

“You might wanna work on fixing that,” he drawled as he dipped a finger dipped inside her.

“Definitely,” she breathed against his chest as he added another finger. She gave his nipple one more teasing bite before her fingers popped the button of his jeans. It was hard to concentrate on getting his pants off when his fingers were pumping teasingly slow in and out of her, but she managed. After all, she knew something better that could satisfy her urge and it rested just underneath his clothes.

“So wet, so tight,” he breathed in her ear as his fingers worked inside her. She jerked hard as his thumb pressed a little harder against her clit. “I can’t wait to know what you feel like wrapped around my cock.” She couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her lips because the promise in his voice only made her want him more. She pushed his jeans and boxers down as far she could with her hands and then used her legs and feet to get them off the rest of the way. A small disappointed mewl escaped her as his fingers left her. He laughed quietly and he stepped out of his jeans. She blinked as she noticed for the first time the condom in his hand. As he rolled it over his cock, she realized just when he had gotten it out didn’t matter. Because really, was that even supposed to be sexy? Her eyes flicked up to his as he moved closer. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her. She ripped her lips away from him as he entered her quickly with a hard thrust of his hips.

“Fuck!” She groaned as she tightened her legs around him; if his initial thrust had her seeing stars, she could only imagine what he would do to her when they really got started. He smirked against her shoulder as if he wasn’t seeing stars because of her tightness. God, she felt amazing around him—better than any woman before her. He clenched his jaw as he pulled out of her because damn if she didn’t clench her muscles around him. She laughed as she pulled a hiss from his lips. He bit into her collarbone as he entered her sharply; she gasped, her muscles clenched around him of their own will. All play left them as they buried themselves in the pleasure that each other offered. She brought her hands from where they had gripped the table up to wrap around his neck and spread her legs wider around him. Her heels pushed against his lower back. They both groaned as the action let him go deeper.

The table was proving to be an unreliable anchor as his thrusts caused it to rock and groan. The hand that had been on her neck fell to her thigh, gripping tight, as he set his pace even harder; his other hand tangled in her hair. He pulled her lips back to his, smothering her gasps and cries. He groaned around her lips as her nails dug viciously into his back, but the pain only spurred him on. Her legs quivered around him as she neared that edge; she tightened them around him as if it would help her to stop the shaking. The hand that was in her hair fell to her lower back, pressing her to him harder, holding her in place. She pulled her lips away from his and started peppering kisses along his jaw, underneath his ear, and down his neck. Her arms felt like jelly; she couldn’t hold on anymore.

She dropped so that she laid across the table; his hands moved to her hips. She brought her arms above of her head and grabbed the edge of the table as she surrendered completely to what he was doing to her. He pulled her hips down to meet him each time he thrust inside her. She could feel him getting close. His pace stuttered.

He moaned and clenched his eyes tightly as he tried to keep his composure. He didn’t want to jump over that edge before she did. He looked down at her and clenched his jaw. This new angle allowed him to see himself disappearing into her. He looked away. Not helping his composure. He focused on her face. Her lips were parted in a soft ‘o’; her eyes were clenched tightly closed. He felt so much pride to see her unraveling. He licked his lips and moved one hand from her hip.

She cried out as his thumb fell over her clit, moving in a slow circle. The pressure would increase each time his hips slapped against hers. “Oh, God, Sam!” She cried; she clenched around him tightly, taking his breathe.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunted. He rolled his thumb faster over her clit as his thrusts became faster and harder. Her hands tightened on the edge of the table. She dove over the edge with a loud cry of his name. He fell over the edge with her. The force of his orgasm took his breathe away and threatened to bring his knees out from underneath him. He grabbed the edge of the table to stay standing, but the table had taken such a beating that it’s worn legs buckled. They both yelped as the table collapsed. Sam fell atop Dawn, knocking her breathe out of her.

“Well,” Dawn panted once the shock of the fall wore off, “that’s crappy craftsmanship.” He chuckled and rolled off of her. “Then again,” Dawn breathed, looking over at him, “I may not be able to walk tomorrow and I’m pretty sure I have splinters. So it could have just been you.”

“My apologies to the table then,” Sam laughed breathlessly. A small groan escaped his lips as he rose up on his elbows.

“Don’t I get an apology?” She asked, smiling up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he pointed out. His eyes darkened slightly as he recalled exactly all he had heard her doing though. Those little moans, gasps, and cries of his name drove him crazy.

“I can’t feel my legs,” she reminded him, “how is that not a compliant?”

“Because,” he said, rolling over to fully look at her, “I’m taking it as a compliment.”

“Hmmm. What about the splinters then?”

“I’ll nurse you back to health,” he deadpanned. Dawn smiled cheekily and muttered:

“Well, hey, there’s an idea.” Sam snorted.

Both knew they would have to talk about whatever this was between them, but for the moment they just wanted to bask in this new closeness and the afterglow. Dawn wanted to get up from the table if only because her back couldn’t handle the flat surface anymore. She stood up and walked on shaky legs to the bed. She crawled toward the center and laid down. Her eyes popped open as she felt a warm hand sliding onto her hip.

“I’m too tired to go again. Don’t worry,” Sam soothed her. Dawn’s lips twitched upward. He just wanted to cuddle. She suppressed a giggle. Who would have thought? Sam Winchester—big bad hunter extraordinaire—was a cuddler. Still, she didn’t protest as he wrapped an arm around her naked waist and pulled her back to his chest. She felt a rush of longing as his naked body pressed against hers. Her skin tingled everywhere he touched. She bit into her bottom lip and closed her eyes. She wasn’t a cuddler, but this was nice. She felt safe, wanted. She snuggled further back into him and closed her eyes.

Sam grinned as he caught the quiet sigh. He had been expecting her to push him away. Dawn Summers, despite popular belief, wasn’t a cuddler. She liked her space when she slept; so the fact that she snuggled back into him took him by surprise. His entire body heated everywhere hers touched. He didn’t know what it meant, but at the moment he didn’t exactly care.

They would talk about it in the morning.