ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.
ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!
AU, OOC. SLASH! Cross-dressing!
Hey, guys! Here is the LAST part of my mini-series. I don't intend to continue this, focusing my Sam/Harry loving on my story Jade.
I want to thank JUSTxAxFRIENDLYxPSYCHO for the perfect kick to the right direction. I hope you'll like my choice of the song, even though it's not one of the songs you suggested. So, thank you for your help!
I really hope you all will like this final part of the series.
Also, there's a poll in my profile for the story Jade, if you're interested.
Alright, enjoy the story!
What's Amor Revelatum?
Lightning flashed through the black clouds, followed closely by the rumble of thunder. The yard of the church was darker than usual, foreboding the events ready to take place inside. No light was visible from the building or the town, the latter swallowed up by the shadows of the clouds hiding the silver moonlight.
A young, beautiful woman was walking slowly towards the entrance, her pure white dress and blonde locks flowing in the gentle breeze, behind her an army of people as if they were her bodyguards. She had a pleased smirk on her face, his milky-white gaze roaming over and taking in the church. It was the perfect spot for her plan to come to fruition. While she examined the building, her bodyguards kept watch around their group, the raven-black eyes roved over the darkness crawling amongst the graves that surrounded the church.
The woman slowly reached the entrance and opened the two enormous wings. She marched up the hallway, holding her head high, her guards following him. She turned a corner and pinned her gaze onto the beautiful, pristine marble altar in the middle of her destination. She knew her goal was close, she just needs to do some preparations… Just a few more minutes, she thought gleefully.
As she stepped into the room, though, the door banged shut behind her, the guards stuck on the other side. She turned around when she heard the screams and choking cries, but didn't make any move to help them. They're useless, anyway, she thought. When she turned back, she froze from mild surprise, not letting it show.
"Sammy…"
Sam Winchester was standing in front of her, a serious, determined expression on his handsome features. She chuckled delightedly, when she recalled the taste of the young man. His lips were so soft…
"Lilith…" Sam sneered, disgust flitting across his face as he looked the demon over.
"You are such a naughty, naughty little boy, Sammy" Lilith shook her head reprimanding. "You shouldn't have poked your nose into the grown-ups' business."
"Says the childish little demon" Sam replied in a firm, monotone voice.
"I may like children, but I'm still older than you" Lilith said with a gleeful smile. "You can't stop destiny. Especially not by yourself."
"Watch me" Sam spat back, his tall frame trembling in fury. Lilith saw the thirst for revenge in his eyes. Just some more prodding and he'll snap, she thought excitedly. Perfect…
"How's your dear older brother?" she asked nonchalantly. Sam tensed, his hazel-green orbs spitting flames and lightning bolts. "I missed him downstairs. It's not so much fun without him entertaining us…"
"Shut your mouth" Sam interrupted. Lilith's eyebrow raised into an elegant curve. The boy's voice was too collected to her liking. However, before she could do something about that, small fingers closed around Sam's strong shoulder, caressing it tenderly. Lilith smiled. Finally…
The small form stepped out from behind Sam, but the sight wasn't one Lilith expected.
"Hello, sweetheart" the British accent echoed around the room, making Lilith flinch. Emerald orbs pierced through the demon's eyes, a tiny, satisfied smirk gracing the thin, rosy lips. Waist-length, ebony-black waves framed a slim waist and a petite body, which was hugged perfectly by the tight, black tank top, dark jeans and the black leather jacket.
"Harry Potter" Lilith hissed, now afraid.
"The one and only" Harry replied scornfully. Sam had a pleased grin on his face, perfectly calm by the presence of the wizard.
"But… Ruby…" Lilith stuttered, speechless for once in millennia. Sam's eyes flashed with anger at the other demon's name.
"Don't worry" he growled. "You'll meet her soon enough."
"You want to kill me?" Lilith mocked, not letting her enemies know how intimidated she felt. "You want to avenge what happened to dear Deanie? Then give it your best shot!" Judging by the twin smirks on the two faces, they expected this. They knew she wanted a rise out of Sam. That she wanted him to kill her.
"Not yet" Sam replied then his hand shot out, his palm pointing right at her heart. Lilith began to choke, surprised by the speed the exorcism was going on and by the lack of pain or strain on Sam's face as he did it.
"Gently" Harry whispered into Sam's ear, his voice like silk to the man's senses. Sam did as Harry told him, pulling the demon out of the woman's body slowly, not letting her die. When the black smoke was finally completely out of the body and floating in the air, helplessly swirling in Sam's mental hold, Harry flicked his wrist and it was encased by a blue bubble. Sam lowered his hand with a deep breath.
"I'm proud of you, Sam" Harry whispered, stroking his hand down Sam's back, but pulling it away before he had the chance to feel the shiver run down Sam's spine. "We should go."
The door opened and Dean stepped in, wiping the knife's blade clean with a piece of a shirt, probably from one of the dead bodies.
"That's Lilith?" he nodded his head towards the bubble still floating in the air. Sam nodded, a little scared of what Dean would say about him using his powers. The older man, however, just nodded and smiled at his brother proudly. Harry grasped Dean's hand with his free one, the other smoothing onto Sam's forearm. With a pop, the three men and the bubble with the smoke in it disappeared from the church. Only the dead bodies outside the door showed signs of the events.
"You can do this."
The three of them were in an old warehouse, far from any civilization. Sam was sitting on a table, one arm around his torso while he was chewing on his nails nervously. Dean was sitting next to him, his arm around the younger man's trembling shoulders. Harry was standing in front of them, watching Sam intently and with a look full of trust, his arms crossed. They completely ignored the floating bubble in the middle of a Devil's Trap behind them.
"I don't know" Sam whispered shakily. "What if it kills you…?"
"I know you can do it" Harry answered truthfully.
"You improved a lot" Dean added. Sam felt grateful for his brother's total support. He never would've thought the man would approve of him using his powers. "You're strong enough."
"But there's always a chance…" Sam started, but Harry interrupted:
"That's a risk we have to take."
Sam looked up at Harry, still hesitant, but seeing the determination in those beautiful emerald eyes, he nodded with a deep, calming breath. Harry nodded in reply then walked around them, stepping over the border of the Trap. Taking a seat in the chair prepared in it, he nodded at Dean, who secured the ropes around the boy's wrists and ankles. Once the brothers were outside the Trap, Sam flicked his wrist and the bubble disappeared. With his coaxing, the black smoke entered Harry. When it disappeared in his mouth, Harry gasped and looked around with milky-white eyes, before the emerald irises rolled back down.
"What is going on here?" Lilith demanded, her tone not as childish in Harry's voice.
"We finally found you, you bitch" Dean sneered in disgust. "You'll pay for every pain you caused us."
"You're just lucky" Lilith snarled, her fear showing through her fury. "You would blow up every plan without the wizard. You're just two piss-poor excuses for a human being."
"Guess we've hit the jackpot, then" Sam replied in a cool, collected voice. Dean stepped back, letting his little brother take the lead on this. Sam appreciated it very much.
"You can't kill me!" Lilith started screaming, now visibly terrified. "You-"
"Enough" Sam barely raised his voice, but it echoed around the empty barn like a shout. Not waiting for a reaction, Sam held out his hand, the palm pointing to Lilith's heart. With a sudden move, he fisted his hand and twisted it upwards. Harry's upper body lit up in golden as Lilith gasped in pain, eyes widening fearfully. After a few seconds the glow faded away, leaving the demon gasping for air, but almost immediately it started over when Sam yanked a bit with his hand. He felt the slimy aura of the demon's presence in his mental hold, but he suppressed the shudder of disgust.
"You kill me…" Lilith gasped out when the glow faded away again. "I'll take him with me…"
The threat made Sam want to hesitate, but a firm hand on his shoulder prevented him. He had to go on, he couldn't stop now… For Harry's sake…
With another mental yank, Lilith screamed, Harry's back arching in a perfect arc, only the ropes keeping him on the chair. Sam felt himself start trembling, pained by the tortured screams of his friend, but Dean's hand that remained in its place as a support kept him steady.
Agonizing minutes crawled past them, deceiving their senses. Sam felt like hours went by since he started, but the demon was hanging onto Harry's soul with everything she got, not even bothering with the burn of Harry's magic. Sam tried to do it gently, but he was scared he would hurt Harry some way.
At last, with a final scream and the strengthening of the glow, Sam felt the demon evaporate from his hold, disappearing into the nothingness. The light died away slowly, as Sam leaned against Dean exhausted. The older man wrapped his arm around Sam's waist to hold his brother up.
"You okay?" he asked. Sam wiped at the sweat that gathered onto his forehead during his battle with Lilith.
"She's dead" he answered breathlessly. "I'm okay. It's just… tiring…"
"Alright, take it easy!"
"Harry?" Sam asked, feeling worry creep back into his heart. The brothers turned back to the Trap, where Harry was still tied to the chair. The boy was unconscious, his head hanging forward, his face hidden by the black curtain of hair. Dean helped Sam closer and into the Trap, hoping that everything was alright.
Sam kneeled down next to the chair, while Dean began untying the ropes.
"Harry?" he asked, pulling the black waves away and brushing them over the boy's shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw a thin stream of bloody saliva dripping into Harry's lap. "What the Hell?" He cupped the boy's cheek and flinched from the coldness of the skin. Heart beating a mile a minute, he lifted the limp head up.
Glazed, empty green eyes stared back at him unseeingly… Sam sobbed out loud, fingers searching for a pulse that wasn't beating anymore… Shivering from the ice-cold touch of the ashen face… Gagging at the sight of blood oozing out of the corner of the pale lips… Dean's arms embraced him, pulling him in to comfort him… He began retching from sobs of grief then he finally let out a tortured scream himself…
"HARRYYY!"
Sam shot up from his bed, straight into strong, protective arms. He burrowed himself into the hard shoulder, fisting the back of the… leather jacket?
"It's okay, Sammy, just a nightmare, everything's fine, just calm down…" Dean's soothing crooning reached Sam's ears, as he sobbed into the gun-powder-scented leather of his brother's jacket.
"D-D-De-ead…" he gasped out, voice muffled by the clothing.
"Shshshhh, it was just a nightmare…" Dean repeated, rocking his upset little brother. Sam heard the faint beeps of a phone in the background. After a minute, a faint murmur tried to penetrate the fog in his mind, unsuccessfully. He was still crying, when a soft pop resounded in the room. The mattress dipped on Sam's other side and a pair of lithe arms clutched at his torso.
"I'm so sorry…" came that sweet voice Sam wanted to hear. "I'm okay, not even a scratch… I promise you, I'm perfectly okay…"
Sam began gasping, trying to slow his breathing. The real memories flowed back into their places, replacing the fake pictures his mind conjured up with the help of his fears.
After killing Lilith, they'd found Harry unconscious but alive. In a few minutes, the boy had woken up, just as the brothers had freed him from his bonds. He'd been uninjured, his mind and soul intact, not a trace that a demon had inhabited his body. A brief rest later they'd removed every trace of the events that had taken place and had gotten the hell out of there.
Sam's mind was still rolling in the quicksand of what-ifs, not letting him relax completely. They'd gotten news about Lilith's death being the final seal to free Lucifer and that Sam had had to do it. However, thanks to the help of the angel, Castiel, most of the seals had been restored behind the demons' backs. By the time they'd gotten Lilith and killed her, the threat of the Apocalypse had passed.
However, since all of this had been a very close call, Sam was still weighed down by the guilt of almost starting the end of the world. Night after night, his sleep was disturbed by the horrors of massacres and disasters. Strangely, though, these weren't the most of his nightmares.
It was the death of his friend, Harry by his own hands.
Ever since that night, he was completely shaken by the fact how close to dying Harry had gotten. Lilith had been intent on keeping her threat up, to drag Harry with him into death. Sam had felt the boy's soul starting to slip out of his body by the demon's claws, only avoiding tragedy by a thread.
Sam's breaths hitched as small fingers combed through his locks, trying to calm him. He always settled down in his brother's embrace, but Harry's tender touches did wonders on his nerves, as well. Sam chanted every single time when Harry wasn't with them that Harry was alright, awake and alive… He did the same routine before going to sleep, adding 'When I wake up, Harry will still be alive and perfectly okay…' to the mantra. It helped, but sometimes the pictures of horror slipped past that wall.
Sam felt himself lean backwards and he tightened his hold on his brother, fearing to let go, to loose him…
"Shhh, I'm here…" Dean shushed him tenderly, so unlike him. That was why Sam loved him: for those he loved, Dean shed his tough exterior completely, letting the kind-hearted, caring person shine through. "Nothing's gonna happen, I promise… Come on, Sammy, let go, I won't leave you again…"
When his back hit the pillow and the headboard, Sam loosened his hold and wiped at his tears in vain: fresh ones rolled down on his flushed cheeks. When he looked up, he was sitting on his bed in the motel room. Dean was sitting on one side of the bed, worry written all over his face, Harry on the other side, emerald eyes full of sorrow and tears. He had light jeans and a green tank top on, his long black locks tumbling down his shoulders.
Sam hiccupped miserably, joy filling him at the sight of his friend. He reached out a hand towards him and Harry instantly burrowed himself into Sam's side, he, too, seeking comfort. Sam embraced him tightly, breathing in Harry's delicious scent that always had a dash of perfume with it. A huge sigh spilled out of his mouth, when he felt the warm skin and the rapid beat of the boy's heart.
Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder reassuringly and stroked Harry's cheek, before standing up to prepare the breakfast he brought. He felt sorry for the two. Both of them were dragged into horrors no one would want to live through so young that it would count as child abuse. They were so similar to each other both in personality and the life they'd had. No wonder that such a strong connection formed between them.
He smiled as he remembered the first time Sam met Harry.
Their father's been missing for quite a while now, and Dean just faced his hurtful memories of his childhood. He called Harry to talk, but the idiot thought it would be better to meet in person. Of course, Sam wouldn't let him go out alone, worried for his brother after the events in their old house, so he joined him to the bar.
"So, who is this guy?" Sam asked, as they stepped into the building. Dean had to tell his brother about the meeting to prepare him.
"His name is Harry" Dean answered, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music blearing from the speakers. It was a heavy metal song Dean heard once, but couldn't remember its title or the singer. "Don't be surprised by anything! He's a bit… strange."
"What do you mean 'strange'?" Sam asked confused as they made their way towards the barman to get a drink. Before Dean could answer, he halted in his steps. Sam barely avoided a collision with his brother's back. Looking at Dean, he saw him gaping at something, so he followed his gaze.
In the middle of the dance floor, amongst a smaller crowd, a young man was swaying to the music, clearly engrossed with the boom of the drums and the electrical guitars. They watched in shock the feminine twirls of the hips, the alluringly tight clothes hugging a slim body, small hands caressing their owner, who ignored everyone around him, both the hungry and the scathing stares – although the former ones were superiors in number. The lights of the bar rebounded on platinum-blonde tresses that were pointing towards every possible points of the compass.
Dean blinked a couple times then turned to his little brother for help, shocked speechless by the scene. He hadn't found support there, though: Sam looked like he was hit by a witch's spell, his hazel-green eyes stuck on the swaying form.
"Hey!" Dean called out at last, after clearing his throat. His voice startled the guy, who twirled around, a blush flooding his cheeks. Dean cleared his throat again and elbowed Sam in the ribs to snap his brother out of his daze. Sam yelped and rubbed at his side, his own face turning into a tomato.
"Hey, Dean!" the guy cried out cheerfully, leaping into Dean's arms. The man laughed at the other's enthusiasm, which was infectious: he twirled around with the boy in his arms. He caught Sam looking at them like they were crazy.
"Sam" Dean turned to his brother when he put the boy down, "this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is my geek little brother, Sammy."
"It's Sam, you jerk" Sam hissed irritated, trying to ignore Harry's amused chuckle.
"Get used to it, Sammy" Dean retorted. "Bitch" he added as an afterthought.
"Hi" Sam greeted Harry with a shy smile after an eye roll to his brother, offering his hand. Harry's small fingers wrapped around his firmly and gently, but enthusiastically shook it.
"It's really nice to meet you" Harry said in a rich, British accent. Dean saw a small surprise in his little brother's eyes. "I'm sorry for that scene out there. I'm just into this song ever since I came into the States."
"You're good at dancing" Sam blurted out, instantly turning redder than the descending sun. Harry laughed timidly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"So, what's with the get-up?" Dean asked as they settled into a booth, their drinks in front of them.
"Trying out something new" Harry answered with a wry grin. Dean grimaced at that: he already knew about Harry's hiding. Sam just looked at them confused and curiously.
"I would ditch the blonde hair, though" Dean spoke with a shrug. "It looks ridiculous on you."
"Thanks" Harry laughed. That night they talked about everything that could come up, and Sam and Harry turned out to be good friends just after one night. The rest was history.
Dean shook his head, as he finished setting the table. Looking in on the pair, he saw them in the same position and still awake, but much calmer. With a sigh, he coaxed the two out of bed and each other's arms to get some food into them.
A couple weeks went by since the defeat of the demons and Lilith. Sam's mind finally settled and the brothers returned to their usual routine. They traveled from town to town, state to state, looking for hunts. The baddies, however, decided to give some break to the world, so instead, they decided to enjoy their road trip a little. They even traveled to the Grand Canyon like Dean suggested a long time ago.
The only changes in their routine and day-to-day lives were their strengthened trust of each other and a new addition: Harry. Since the boy had nowhere to go, the Winchesters took him in and the three spent some time enjoying this temporary peace they achieved. The brothers, especially Sam, loved to see Harry's awed expression at some of the United States' tourist attractions. Dean even made a picture of Harry watching in wonder the sunset at the Grand Canyon, completely relaxed in Sam's protective embrace around him.
As they spent more time with the little wizard, Sam felt his past emotional turmoil rouse in his heart. The more they spent time together the bigger the storm got inside him. He often startled out of long brooding sessions, mostly by Dean's annoying attempts. He just didn't know how to sort the mess inside him out.
One day he got the answer.
"What's this Amor Revelatum?"
Dean's question was hushed, not wanting to wake Sam up from his – finally – peaceful nap. They were at another motel room, just resting from the long trip from one side of the country to the other. Sam was out cold on his bed, snoring lightly, and Dean knew the younger man's mind was free from troubles – sort of.
"If you wouldn't try to deny that you have a heart" Harry said to him teasingly, "you would see that Sam has some emotional issues to sort out. So, going through every possibility, I think that there's a girl in the picture. Maybe from the past or just from a meeting…
"So you're saying it's something to do with that… love-stuff?" Dean asked awkwardly. Harry rolled his eyes at his attitude.
"Yes, but don't worry! You're immune" he retorted, earning a whack to the back his head. "Alright, sorry. You need to practice, though."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever" Dean murmured, waving the boy off. "So, he just has to drink it?"
"And it will help him with his troubles, yes" Harry nodded.
"How will we make him drink it?"
"Maybe just ask?" came a sleepy voice from the bed. The pair turned to its way and met with Sam's owlishly blinking eyes. Seeing the wide-eyed looks, Sam sighed then said:
"Just give it to me and I'll drink it."
Harry jumped, snapping out of his alarm then stood up.
"Are you sure?" he asked when he reached Sam's bed. The young man nodded and took the bottle out of his friend's hand. "Well then, good luck!" Harry finished and backed away.
Sam sat up and uncorked the bottle. The scent of the red potion was sweet like blooming wildflowers on a clearing. Sam was a bit taken aback by the metaphor his mind supplied. He looked at the other two then lifted the bottle up, muttering:
"Bottom's up" and he gulped the syrupy liquid down. Giving the empty bottle back to Harry, he waited for the potion to take effect. The other two was watching him closely, looking for any signs of discomfort or pain.
"Are you sure it's working?" Sam asked, turning to Harry. He could just catch the slow nod his friend returned, before his vision blurred, as his eyes crossed, then he fell heavily back onto the mattress, darkness swallowing his relaxing mind up.
When he came to his senses, silence was pressing down onto his ears. He groaned faintly, confusion about the happenings filling his mind. He froze, however, when he realized, he was reclining instead of lying flat on his back. His hands were resting next to his legs and they were touching… leather?
His eyes snapped open and the air escaped out of his lungs from what he was looking at. It was a big picture of a young woman in a red bikini, the panties barely covering anything and the bra almost snapping from holding the impressive cleavage up, hands buried in a mass of platinum blonde curls, and lips pursed into a kiss.
Sam recognized it as the ceiling, the starting ache in the back of his neck helping him in that. He snapped his head up and noticed that he was sitting on a leather couch. On top of that, instead of just being in his boxers and T-shirt, he was wearing his jeans, his flannel shirt and his trusty, dark-brown jacket. As he looked around he took in the dark red and black walls lit by dozens of spotlights. More pictures of scantily clad women stared back at him, leaving him feel like a deer caught in the headlights.
It was a strip club.
He saw cages on each side of the big room and as he craned his neck backwards, he caught a glimpse of a bar full of drinks. In one corner, there was a closed-off area, a red curtain draped over the entrance. It must be for the private shows. Sam himself was seated directly in front of the stage, which was basically a catwalk ending right at his feet.
As he was looking around, he got a strange feeling, making him slightly alert.
The club was empty.
Excluding him, the place was even more deserted than an actual desert. No customers, no barmen, no guards – no girls. Sam got more confused. What was going on here?
Out of the blue, the speakers started crackling and the scream of an electric guitar filled the empty room, rebounding off the walls. Sam recognized it immediately. It was the very song that played in a bar on the night he first met Harry. When he witnessed – luckily – the moves of the boy engrossed in the music.
It was Marilyn Manson's Dope Show.
As the blare of the music drowned out the deep silence, Sam caught movement out of the corner of his eyes. Snapping his head towards the catwalk, he saw a blonde woman swaying to the music, her back towards him. Her white outfit, which was a tiny dress with a miniskirt and a tight top, similar to a sexy nurse costume, was adorned by the waist-length curls of blonde hair.
The first words of the lyrics boomed out of the speakers and the girl began to accentuate the twirls and eights of her hips and the length of her slim legs that were covered in thigh-highs held up by a garter belt. White, stiletto-heeled shoes were added to the picture.
As Sam watched the girl's alluring dance, he couldn't help but remember that one Halloween night that had changed his life forever. Back then he had just been aiming for an interview for a law school, wanting to live a normal life and leave the hunting behind. So much has happened since the night he'd let himself be drawn into that hunt that started everything, but what always stayed with him was the memory of Jessica.
His heart lurched sluggishly at the sweet memories of the four years he was gifted with by her presence. He still felt guilty for her death, for leaving her, for not telling her enough times how much he loved her. Had loved her. Although it still pained him that she died because of his stubbornness, he had finally accepted what'd happened. His eyes roamed over the body of the girl on the stage. Was she Jess? What would he feel like if this girl was his past girlfriend? He always wanted to see her one last time, but this was such an inappropriate way…
As the song reached the chorus, the girl finally turned around. Sam's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. The girl wasn't Jessica! She was so similar to her, but she had dark eyes and fuller lips and the small birth-mark that had been on Jess's forehead was nowhere in sight. As she swayed to the music, leaning down to show her ample breasts in that mouth-watering dress – Sam had to swallow as he watched – Sam felt the room grow hotter around him. He felt a smirk competing with Dean's slip onto his face as he drank in the sight of the woman. He didn't feel disappointment not seeing the love of his attempt at normal life. He guessed he finally got over her loss.
Who said he couldn't enjoy the show now?
Something got his attention for a moment, though. As the girl lifted her arm in a sensual way, her fingertips brushed something in the air that began rippling in light-blue waves. As if it was a barrier of some sort. Sam frowned at that but let it slide for now.
After the chorus, the girl turned back around and buried her hands into the blonde curls, lifting them up. Sam tilted his head curiously when the curls darkened into brown color and slid into a loose bun. One long, black hairgrip was holding up the tresses. When he looked the girl over, his eyes met with paler skin than the previous girl's, and a shiny, black leather dress that revealed more than Sam thought was possible. Her legs were covered with black thigh-high boots.
This girl had her back towards him, too. Somehow, she reminded him about another past love: Madison. He remembered how attracted he'd been towards her outgoing personality and how crushed and hopeless he'd felt when it'd turned out they couldn't have saved her from the curse of the werewolves. Sam needed a long time to get over the fact that he himself had had to shoot Madison. He knew Madison had wanted it that way, but that didn't make it any less painful.
What was happening here? Why did he have to face his failures in love? Why did he have to remember how he destroyed innocent girls' dreams and lives? He hoped there was a good reason for the emotional torture that he has to suffer through…
In the middle of the second verse, as the girl crouched down in an arousing fashion, a pole was revealed behind her. Sam leaned back with interest, a wolfish leer sneaking into his eyes, joining his smirk. Whether this girl was Madison or not, he would not pass this opportunity up.
The girl walked up to the pole with a provocative strut then as she grabbed it to turn around, it was obvious that she was not Madison. Her face was completely different. Leaning against the pole with her back, the girl slid down into a crouch, boring light-colored eyes into Sam's darkened hazel ones. A faint blush crept up into his cheeks, when warmth surrounded his groin and his jeans seemingly began to shrink.
As the chorus boomed over the empty room again, the girl jumped on to the pole and started spinning on it, riling Sam up with some very spicy poses and her body's flexibility. One time as she stretched her arm out, her fingertips brushed that strange barrier surrounding the stage. It seemed to take the shape of her fingers up, when she reached too far, like it didn't want her to penetrate it. When the song reached a quieter part, the girl slid off of the pole, seductively licking at the cold metal, drawing a moan out of Sam. He tried to keep his head clear, wanting to enjoy the rest of the show.
The girl walked back to the front of the catwalk and turned her back on him again, pulling the hairgrip out of her bun. When the tresses tumbled down, they melted into a black color, landing in beautiful waves on her back. Sam noticed the skin turning even paler and the clothes changing into a black pair of small jeans shorts and a dark red tank top hugging a perfectly curved, slim torso. Her thin, elegant legs were uncovered, the skin pristine like porcelain, just like her arms. She only had high-heeled sandals on.
Sam watched the girl's sway in front of him. It tugged at his mind relentlessly, especially with the music on. The picture of a platinum-blonde guy dancing in the middle of a bar flitted through his mind. The girl's dance was so similar, it could've been the same.
Sam's eyes widened. What could this all mean? Is there a reason why this song is playing during the show? If he thought this whole thing through, remembering back to the other two girls, he heard it while he was with Jessica once and again when he met Harry for the first time. But the first girl's dress… it was almost identical to the nurse's outfit Jessica was wearing on that Halloween and he didn't hear this song then…
Slowly the girl turned around – and shocked the hell out of Sam.
It was Harry! Not just some girl similar to him, but Harry Potter himself! Dancing in a strip club… twirling his hips just enough, so the bone juts out between the top and the shorts… leaning down just enough to create the illusion of breasts under the tank top…
Then something unexpected happened: as Harry reached out towards Sam, the barrier shattered into pieces. Sam swallowed as Harry walked down the small steps of the stage, stopping in front of him. Bending down, Harry leaned his hand onto Sam's thigh. As the boy got closer, Sam was pulled in by that sparkling emerald gaze that always captivated him. Harry lifted a hand up and caressed Sam's jaw with his fingertips, drawing him closer with his index finger.
Sam couldn't stomp down onto the urge to blink. When it defeated him, Harry instantly disappeared, but a foot in a high-heeled sandal landed on his shoulder and yanked him backwards, caressing down his chest then back up. Sam felt himself harden impossibly and couldn't hold back a moan.
When the final notes and words of the song started up, small hands ran slowly down his arms and chest, once combing through his hair. Sam had to gasp for oxygen: the touch was fanning up the fire in him so intensely, he couldn't breath. He fisted his jeans as he arched into the hands roaming his upper body. Black waves danced in front of his eyes and that delicious scent with a dash of perfume filled his nostrils.
A finger ran over the tent in his jeans making him gasp out a cry and throw his head back in ecstasy. He shut his eyes tightly to keep himself in control. The music cut off all of a sudden…
…and his eyes snapped open, just to stare up at the ceiling of their motel room.
He was panting for air, the pictures in his mind still intense in the flame of adrenaline. He felt the sheets in his tightly fisted hands, fingernails digging into his palm from the strength. Sweat slowly dripped down on every inch of his body, flaring up his sensitive nerves.
"Sammy, you okay?" he heard Dean's voice somewhere in the room and over the slight buzz in his ears. He didn't want to move from his position, but the heat in his groin was driving him insane.
"Sam?" that sweet voice, which made his mouth water the moment it registered in his mind, came from next to him, but still from a smaller distance. He couldn't stop a wanton moan break out of him, as it stimulated his body. Turning in the direction of that honeyed tone, he met with the sparkling emeralds he remembered from the club.
Without any chance of coherent thoughts, Sam leaped out of his bed, yanked Harry's light body up with a growl and pushed him up against the wall, ravishing those rosy lips with fervor. Harry was frozen from shock for a moment, but the second Sam gripped Harry's jeans covered ass, the boy wrapped his legs around Sam's torso and gripped the brown locks tightly.
"Yeah, erm…" Dean choked out. "Yeah…" The slam of the door was the only sign of his departure.
"What's gotten into you?" Harry gasped out breathlessly, when he finally pushed Sam away.
"You" Sam answered. "Want you… Love you…"
"What?" Harry asked bewildered.
"What was the potion?" Sam asked impatiently.
"Amor Revelatum" Harry replied. "It basically means-"
"'Love Revealed'" Sam growled out, barely able to hold himself back, craving those lips back onto his own.
"And it revealed… me?"
"Yes" Sam hissed, moving slightly against Harry, who gasped, as well, fisting Sam's T-shirt and locks. "And what a way it revealed you… Loved you… The moment I saw you…"
"Loved you…" Harry replied, soft, tiny gasps escaping him, when Sam rubbed himself to his hard length. "Love you…" And with that he yanked Sam back into a fierce kiss. Sam pulled them away from the wall and lowered them onto his bed, ready to give another chance at love – and making the most of it.
The End
And this is THE end.
So, how was it? Good ending for this series?
Please Read and Review! It's much appreciated.
See you at my other stories! (Hopefully.)