Plot: It's Christmas Eve and Dean has a hit. You see, Dean is a hit man, a very good one. Except that he finds himself distracted from the work at hand by a youth, stumbling down the street and sleeping in a doorway. Will his one act of kindness lead to more than just kindness?
Who knows what a hitman's gift of compassion will bring by the light of Christmas Day.
Warning: AU. Unrelated. Sam/Dean but strangers. Language and violent content follows. Some schmoop too.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sammy walks down the street, rubbing his arms. His jacket is worn and he is bleeding.
Sammy Downing is a whore.
He knows he is no good, but yet, It's Christmas Eve and no one is around. He likes the lights and the window scenes. So he waits until the street is dark, and goes to see the lights.
The streets have been his home for many years now, he's used to it.
He is injured and possibly damaged badly but it isn't something he hasn't felt before.
Sam is tired now and goes to a doorway and pulls his jacket off, and uses it for a pillow. He wraps his arms around himself and tries to stay warm. He doesn't see the green eyes watching him and misses their worried look. Sam passes out and bleeds out onto the pavement.
The man comes up and checks on him, preparing to give him his jacket, then sees the blood.
He knows blood.
He's a hitman, after all.
But not for the bleeding youth, so close to dying on Christmas Eve.
Dean Paulson is a bad man.
But deep down, he is good.
He carries the man to his car and bundles him in blankets, forgoing the hit he meant to do. This Youth feels more important. He'll give the money back later, the client will let him, he is too afraid of Dean not to accept it.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Sam wakes up to cotton sheets and bandaged limbs. He feels clean as if he's been washed.
He sits up and sees the man sitting in a chair nearby, watching him sleep, drinking coffee.
Dean sighs at the man's beauty and wonders how anyone can stay looking that good after what he's been through.
Sam is freaked.
"I have to call my pimp. He's going to be so pissed at me!" Sam cries, and Dean tosses him the phone. Sadness creeping into his face then coldness takes its place.
"Have him come get you here." Dean says softly, "Say I was a client and paid you for the night." Dean tosses Sam a ball of cash and smiles, "So he believes the story."
Sam smiles gratefully, Dean smiles possessively into his cup. He formulates a plan.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Two hours later, the man shows up and promptly grabs at Sam, groping him and leering. Rolling the cash between his fingers.
"Can I make you a drink?" Dean asks, and the man grins pulling Sam down with him to the couch.
"Sure." The man says rudely, Dean hates him already. Wants him to leave Sam alone.
"So, who beat up Sam last night? He was sure hurt." Dean says softly, already knowing the answer, "He was sure broken in good." Dean hadn't touched Sam last night but someone had. He wants to know who.
"I did, I break all my bitches in, especially the pretty ones." The pimp leans into kiss Sam and Dean almost snaps right then. He instead accidentally pours his drink on the man's lap, rubs a cloth into it to dry it, the man moans. Dean works him over his pants while slipping the drug into his drink.
Soon the man cums and Dean moves back, grinning falsely. The man sips his drink then swallows it down.
"You're a whore, too, aren't you?" the pimp says and goes to approach him. Dean swears happily to himself that if he touches him, he's going to shoot him with the gun he has hidden in his other hand. Before the poison can take effect. He's not picky, he just wants the man dead.
The man that left that beautiful man with the soft hazel eyes broken and bleeding on the street on Christmas Eve.
Dean has time to reflect that love is an unknown concept for him but since last night, he's felt different, possessive of the man. He knew what Sam was when he took him in, when he bathed his body and removed the cum and blood from his body. He knew what he was when he stitched up his wounds and applied bandages and creams to his broken body. He knew the man did not deserve to be abused and left for dead.
But this one did.
So he waits with glittering green eyes on shiny fearful hazel ones.
"I will save you." He says as the pimp approaches.
"Yes." Sam says trembling.
"I love you." he says and Sam manages a smile, with almost dimples showing, making Dean's heart race already.
"Love?" Sam asks, he's never known love.
"Love." Dean says ignoring the body falling at his feet. He's never known love either.
"Stay with me?" Dean asked as he pushes the body into a trunk, weighing it down with concrete slabs.
"Yes, I'll stay with you." Sam says smiling, kissing him softly, and helping him dump the trunk into the deepest part of the river.
"I kill people for a living. I suppose you figured that out, huh?" Dean says pulling Sam into his arms, "Does that bother you, Sammy?" He doesn't want to lose his Sammy.
"No, I was a whore. Does that bother you?" Sam asks hoping it doesn't. Neither of them are 'good' men in any sense of the word.
"No, but not anymore. No one touches you or hurts you. I'll kill them if they do." Dean vows and Sam nods, his dimples pulling Dean into his lips, their kiss feels like their souls are connecting through it.
"No, never again." Sam agrees and they drive off to shore.
Dean takes Sam shopping and clothes him in warm clothes. They go see the Christmas lights which Sam admits he loves to see more than anything. They open gifts under a tiny tree and cuddle after love making; Dean claiming him as his own.
Sam and Dean both know Dean will go on killing but Sam doesn't care, he even lets Dean train him at it, too. Soon they work together and make a pretty unstoppable team.
Police seek them but never find them. Interpol and other international law enforcement seek them but never catch them, they move too much for that to happen.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Sam kisses Dean in the morning light coming through their curtains.
They have a job to do soon and Dean gets up to get ready.
Sam smiles and pulls him back to bed, "The job isn't until noon, Dean, come back to bed." Sam's erection is bared for him to see why he's needed back in the bed. Dean never turns Sam down.
"I love you, Sammy." He says, kissing the scar that mars that one small spot on those perfect iips, a memento of their first meeting, a memory of someone who dared to hurt his Sammy. Body still at the bottom of the river for all they know.
"I love you, too, Dean." Sam says and kisses his lover and partner in killing, pulling him on top of him, ready for him already.
The phone rings and they peek at who it is while Dean sheaths himself into Sam's body.
"Hey, Bobby." Dean says as Sam moans softly beneath him. Bobby ignores this sound. These men are his best hitters and he has a job for them. Dean does this with Sam while he's on the phone with Bobby, on purpose, to bug him. Bobby doesn't take the bait.
"Yeah, San Francisco isn't far from here, got a job at noon but we can do it after that." Dean says taking Sam faster now. The man writhes beneath him and leaves bruises on Dean's hips where he's grabbed them, legs around Dean's waist already, pulling him deeper.
Soon they cum while Bobby relays the details of the hit. Both nearly screaming while Bobby laughs and they hang up the phone.
"Well, what did he say?" Bobby is their manager of sorts. He sets up their hits and watches out for them. Man is a criminal mastermind in a baseball cap!
"Hit in San Fran. Some big wig. Six O'clock tonight, says they'll pay double our fee if we do it today." Dean says cuddling Sam to his body.
"You did say we'd take it, right?" Sam asks. They could make that hit, if they left right after this one. He likes San Francisco. They had killed a man there years ago, nice city, good food. He'd rode the trolley after they hid the body, some witness against some mob guy. "I liked that city."
"Yes, I did." Dean sighs happily, Then smiles, "Glad I found you on Christmas Eve that night years ago. Got the best partner ever." Dean rejoices he'd found Sam then; he's never been alone since.
"Me, too." Sam nods and smiles fondly. "My favorite part was when you killed my pimp and saved me." Sam loved that part best.
"I'll always save you, Sammy." Dean smiles into his tousled hair, "I'll never leave your side."
"I know." Sam says and gets up to shower. It is now 11 am. "I'll shower, you pack. We'll head straight to San Fran after this hit." Dean gets up to pack for them and dress. "Hey, is this a close or far hit?" Dean hasn't told him that part.
"Far, got the rifle already planted for us." Dean said.
He always plans ahead.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Soon they are done with hit, some council man here in town.
Then are on their way to San Francisco for the job that Bobby had setup for them.
They cuddle in the car and drive in the sun drenched front seat of their black Impala, black as night and ten times as gorgeous.
Christmas is tomorrow and Dean wants to get a small tree for their room when they got the hit done. Sam loved the Christmas lights there before. Sam loves Christmas in general. It turns that hitman genius into a five year old again, and Dean hopes it always would.
Christmas is their favorite holiday, go figure.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Yes, I had to go there.
Sociopathic, a bit psychotic, and made them not good men, but we do love them bad, don't we?
Tell the truth, they would be good at this job, if they had ended up this way.
A dark Christmas Fic, I know, but with a lot of light, too.
A bit like the boys. Neither light but neither too dark either.
It's the way we love them.