Untitled
Title: Untitled
Author: rolleson
Fandom: SG-1
Rating: ADULT
Character/Pairing: Sam/Mark
Spoilers: Seth
Warnings: Sex, incest
Summery:
Notes:
She told people that Mark painted her with the same brush as her father but telling anyone the real reason wasn’t an option.
She didn’t even like to think about it because it inflamed every sensibility she had in her. Plus when it came down to it, it had started for childish reasons. It hadn’t been about sex or love or anything like that. It had been about ‘I told you so’ and Sam arguing back.
She couldn’t look him in the eye and in not doing so, couldn’t discover if he felt the same but they could put their arms around one another and play happy families for a while, with their dad, because five years was a long time and San Diego was far enough away from Colorado Springs.
She didn’t think about it that much, it didn’t plague her like she thought maybe it should. When she did think about it, she couldn’t decide if it was worse that they had had sex or that she had enjoyed it.
No one had won the argument.
A fierce fuck up against his hallway wall did not make either of them feel any better about the break up of a relationship he had been against from the start. A relationship she had stayed in a little longer than she had wanted to just to see, just to say ‘you were wrong’.
It didn’t make either of them winners because this wasn’t really about Jonas Hanson, this had been about them and their relationship, the lack of one, since their mother had died.
This was about their mother.
Sam doubted she’d be very pleased with either of them but hoped she wasn’t too disappointed. Too disgusted.
They had made amends with the world in their own way she liked to think, though sometimes she wasn’t entirely convinced she had done anything wrong.
Truth was, five years had past and faced with him again she didn’t really know what to think. Except that he was her brother and she loved him anyway.
And she could still feel his hands on her body. Imprints burnt into her hips, the memory of his teeth digging into her neck when he had bit her. It had been so strong she had raised her hand to check for marks and when she looked at him saw that he had been staring at her neck too.
He remembered too, all too well, and had looked away, a blank look on his face. She didn’t know what he thought but maybe he felt the same as she did.
Or maybe he couldn’t get over the feel of it all, the confusion that came along with the knowledge that they had both enjoyed it. That she had enjoyed every moment from his fingers stroking her roughly, to him pushing into her hard, entering her in one deep thrust. The way her head had hit the wall as he had begun to move, the fire and the intensity as she had come, gritting her teeth, determined not to cry out.
The way he had done the same moments later.
She’d had much better sex, before and after, but this wasn’t just anybody, this was her brother.
It stuck in the mind a little bit.
She couldn’t tell if he could look her in the eye but she could see that Mark couldn’t look his wife in the eye now she was there. It properly stuck in his mind more, cheating on his wife and fucking his sister. She wondered if she knew, if Mark had told her, but she doubted it.
She certainly wouldn’t be telling anyone.
It was with relief that she left knowing that at least she’d be able to keep in some sort of contact with the kids. They weren’t a part of this and they didn’t make her feel uncomfortable, they were just kids. They didn’t need to know that daddy and aunty Sam had tried to settle their differences and grieve for their own mother up against a wall, their jeans around their ankles and underwear simply pushed aside.
It hadn’t helped. She still missed her mother like nothing else on this Earth and while her relationship with Jonas hadn’t worked out (too demanding, too angry, too much) it didn’t necessarily make Mark right about him. Their relationship as brother and sister was still fractured, broken even, and the way she had felt leaving his home told her it was probably beyond repair.
She wasn’t sure she cared any more.
She loved him and they got along with their dad but she had been without them in her life for the past ten years she could carry on the same way. Then in another five, ten or twenty years the memory would fade and their grief would lesson and maybe this wouldn’t bother her as much as she was refusing to admit to herself.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: SG-1
Rating: ADULT
Character/Pairing: Sam/Mark
Spoilers: Seth
Warnings: Sex, incest
Summery:
Notes:
She told people that Mark painted her with the same brush as her father but telling anyone the real reason wasn’t an option.
She didn’t even like to think about it because it inflamed every sensibility she had in her. Plus when it came down to it, it had started for childish reasons. It hadn’t been about sex or love or anything like that. It had been about ‘I told you so’ and Sam arguing back.
She couldn’t look him in the eye and in not doing so, couldn’t discover if he felt the same but they could put their arms around one another and play happy families for a while, with their dad, because five years was a long time and San Diego was far enough away from Colorado Springs.
She didn’t think about it that much, it didn’t plague her like she thought maybe it should. When she did think about it, she couldn’t decide if it was worse that they had had sex or that she had enjoyed it.
No one had won the argument.
A fierce fuck up against his hallway wall did not make either of them feel any better about the break up of a relationship he had been against from the start. A relationship she had stayed in a little longer than she had wanted to just to see, just to say ‘you were wrong’.
It didn’t make either of them winners because this wasn’t really about Jonas Hanson, this had been about them and their relationship, the lack of one, since their mother had died.
This was about their mother.
Sam doubted she’d be very pleased with either of them but hoped she wasn’t too disappointed. Too disgusted.
They had made amends with the world in their own way she liked to think, though sometimes she wasn’t entirely convinced she had done anything wrong.
Truth was, five years had past and faced with him again she didn’t really know what to think. Except that he was her brother and she loved him anyway.
And she could still feel his hands on her body. Imprints burnt into her hips, the memory of his teeth digging into her neck when he had bit her. It had been so strong she had raised her hand to check for marks and when she looked at him saw that he had been staring at her neck too.
He remembered too, all too well, and had looked away, a blank look on his face. She didn’t know what he thought but maybe he felt the same as she did.
Or maybe he couldn’t get over the feel of it all, the confusion that came along with the knowledge that they had both enjoyed it. That she had enjoyed every moment from his fingers stroking her roughly, to him pushing into her hard, entering her in one deep thrust. The way her head had hit the wall as he had begun to move, the fire and the intensity as she had come, gritting her teeth, determined not to cry out.
The way he had done the same moments later.
She’d had much better sex, before and after, but this wasn’t just anybody, this was her brother.
It stuck in the mind a little bit.
She couldn’t tell if he could look her in the eye but she could see that Mark couldn’t look his wife in the eye now she was there. It properly stuck in his mind more, cheating on his wife and fucking his sister. She wondered if she knew, if Mark had told her, but she doubted it.
She certainly wouldn’t be telling anyone.
It was with relief that she left knowing that at least she’d be able to keep in some sort of contact with the kids. They weren’t a part of this and they didn’t make her feel uncomfortable, they were just kids. They didn’t need to know that daddy and aunty Sam had tried to settle their differences and grieve for their own mother up against a wall, their jeans around their ankles and underwear simply pushed aside.
It hadn’t helped. She still missed her mother like nothing else on this Earth and while her relationship with Jonas hadn’t worked out (too demanding, too angry, too much) it didn’t necessarily make Mark right about him. Their relationship as brother and sister was still fractured, broken even, and the way she had felt leaving his home told her it was probably beyond repair.
She wasn’t sure she cared any more.
She loved him and they got along with their dad but she had been without them in her life for the past ten years she could carry on the same way. Then in another five, ten or twenty years the memory would fade and their grief would lesson and maybe this wouldn’t bother her as much as she was refusing to admit to herself.