a/n: Supernatural Episode Tag: Live Free Or Twi-Hard.

The Need and the Want

Dean was so hungery, so, so hungery. But he couldn't, he couldn't eat. If he did, he would be stuck like this and Sam would have to cut his head off because he was sure once he got a taste, he wouldn't be able to stop. It was like a deep yearning, one that went deep into his core. A hollowness in his stomach, one that burned for blood; one that needed to be sedated with the warmth, moist, salty-copper-ish taste that could only come from the crimson liquid.

He could hear them, every beat of every heart from every person he passef on the street. He licked his chapped lips as he thought of every gush that would be pumped, imagined the moistness of it wetting his parched throat before warmly settling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes slipped closed and he felt a cold wetness flood his mouth, he swallowed convulsively, but the tang was all wrong. Dean opened his eyes and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, finding that his came away with a smear of blood. His fangs were out and biting into his lips; he forced them back, hating how he could feel them move in and out of his gums.

He had no idea where he was or how long he had been wandering; all he knew was that he was starving. That he needed to feed, wanted to feed. Dean wanted to feel full, full of another's life blood. He hated to think like this, to feel like this; yet at the same time it excited him.

There was a beat that pumped trough his head, throughout his whole body. He knew that it wasn't his heart, but instead something else, something that seemed to come from the ground and up through his body. Like a tattoo that was in rhythm for about three seconds, stop, then there would be one loud one. And repeat.

Dean found it very irritating, yet at times it sounded just like a heart beat, drawing him in. He fallowed it through the darkness, stopping when in the shadows when he found the source surrounded in street lights. His was in a park at a basketball court by the river.

Dean watched as the man on the court bounced the ball three times, before holding it in his hands just so. The muscles under his smooth, pale skin bunching as he tensed he readied to shoot. With a flick of his wrist, the ball went flying; his heal coming an inch off the ground. The ball flew through the air in a smooth arc, hitting the square on the backboard in the middle, falling into the ring below. The slightest of twitches jerked the corner of his mouth upward.

Dean watched with scary intent as a drop sweat slid from the man's temple, down the side of his face and slowly glided down to his - in Dean's opinion - supple pulse point. Dean had never been into men, he was a ladies man, but that didn't stop him from recognizing a handsome man when he saw one - he did need to recognize the competition after all. So he could tell that the shirtless man was attractive, with his flat stomach and toned muscles, short dark hair that clung to his temple and his jade green eyes.

But it didn't matter to Dean whether it was a man or a woman, because this man looked and smelled amazing. And the way that his heart beat a little faster than usual, which in turn caused his blood to flow a little faster and a little thicker. As the man - teen, Dean realized as he took a closer look - bent to pick up the ball that had rolled back to his feet, Dean made his move. He knew that he shouldn't feed, that he would become a full fledged vampire if he did. But it's like not having eaten or drunken anything in days and then having a buffet place right in front of you for the taking. How could he pass that up?

When Nathan Scott had come down to the River Court tonight, he didn't expect what was to come next when he stood up with the basketball in his hand. Something crashed into him, throwing him to the ground. He let out a grunt of pain and surprise; the ball tumbling from his hands. Nathan tried to sit up, but a weight was holding him to the ground. He tried to push it off, but that same weight had his arms pinned.

He panicked, his heart staring to race harder as he struggled to get free. But Dean wouldn't have it; using his knee's he pinned down Nathan's arms. Nathan retaliated by kicking, which didn't affect Dean's hold in the least. When Dean touched Nathan's porcelain skin, he could feel the rush of blood underneath. Dean put a hand on Nathan's shoulder and another on his chin, forcing his head back; exposing his neck.

Nathan swallowed convulsively, a whimper escaping his throat as he saw that gleam of what looked like a dozen small sharp teeth from the corner of his eye. Dean licked his lips as looked down at Nathan's supple, exposed neck. Nathan grunted in fear and pain as Dean's teeth dug into the sensitive flesh of his neck. He felt tears well in his eyes as he felt the suction of lips against his flesh.

The warm blood that filled Dean's mouth was like a bite full of Heaven, and the way that it wetted his throat as it slowly slid down and settled into his stomach . . . was unbelievable. He sucked harder, trying to get as much blood as he could in too short of time.

Nathan had expected numbness to take over soon after the first few mouthfuls of blood were taken, but something different had taken place instead. Slowly, as the pain faded, pleasure started to take its place. It was odd, to pleasure so great to an activity like this - something that was so unwanted. But there it was, and it had him moaning. There was too much pleasure in it to be embarrassed or freaked out. Because for all the world, this felt better then any sex that Nathan had ever had. He arched into Dean, which caused him to suck even harder than before.

It was that intense that Nathan didn't even realize that with every swallow of blood, was one more less in him - that with ever suck Dean took, Nathan was that much closer to death. He was growing weaker and weaker, but the adrenaline that coursed throughout his body didn't let him register it - not until it was too late, not until death, and Dean had sucked him dry.

After that, Dean had gone crazy for blood - literally. Over the years he had drained many people of their life-blood. But none were quite the same as his very first feeding - Nathan Scott. No matter how many people he tasted and killed, it was never just the same as his very first. He knew he was being Hunted by the Campbell's, but he was smarter than them and he never stayed in one place that long. He would eventually stop, once he found his Nathan Scott again.