This story was written to go with the art (titled Pretty Tied Up) by the fabulous kinkajou on LiveJournal.

Warnings: Dubcon, plant/tentacle sex, kinda dark

Pretty Tied Up

The house didn't look out of the ordinary, but Sam and Dean had seen countless houses over the years that had looked extremely normal but harboured dark secrets. The 'For Sale' sign swung lightly in the spring breeze as the Winchesters climbed the steps and moved the fake brick to find the key just where the Realtor said it would be.

"DIY Realty. Says it all, really," Dean commented as the door swung open. "I could have used some tightly-wound eye candy in an ugly blazer and a pencil skirt after spending all night in the car with your grumpy mug."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam answered, only half listening to his brother as he walked into the foyer. Stairs led up to the second floor on the right so Sam walked left into the living room. The place was empty of furniture, and there were light patches on the walls where pictures had hung. There was a large, weird-looking plant in the corner. Clearly someone had tried to add some cheer to the empty room but had failed miserably in their effort. Who would install grass-green carpet? It was pretty awful. Sam moved through the room and into the kitchen at the back of the house. He peered out into the empty yard and pulled out his EMF reader. Nothing.

He returned to the living room to find Dean standing very close to the large plant, stroking one of its long vines.

"What the fuck are you doing, Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam, confused, his finger trailing something slimy as he pulled it off the plant. "What?" he asked, popping his finger in his mouth, eyes wide and innocent.

"Ugh! Did you just suck the plant-slime off your finger? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Dean pulled the offending finger out of his mouth and looked at it, confused. He frowned, then glared at the plant before turning back to glare at Sam. "I don't know. You always tell me to check the scene thoroughly."

"I also tell you not to lick strange things."

Dean screwed up his face to mimic Sam talking. "Take a chill-pill, bro. Maybe you've finally convinced me to start eating organic." He turned back to the plant and lifted one of the long vines to examine the yellow flower at its tip. He gave it a sniff and turned back to look at his brother when he heard Sam's frustrated sigh. "What? It's an interesting plant, okay? I'm gonna send a photo to Garth and see if he can tell us anything." He snapped a couple photos and typed into his phone. "Okay, your bitchiness?" he asked as he put it away.

Sam shook his head in disgust. "I'm gonna go check upstairs. At least a dozen people have gone missing and it all seems tied to this house. If you're finished with Audrey Two, go check the garage." He pretended not to see Dean's curtsy so he didn't have to go punch his brother in the face.

As Dean heard Sam's boots hit the floor above his head, he turned back to the plant, stroking his fingers along the thick, green vines. He felt a tug at his shirt and smiled, shucking his jacket, and unbuttoning his flannel overshirt. A green tendril brushed against his face as another plucked the shirt from his shoulders. He moaned as two tendrils wrapped around his thighs and a third caressed his cock through his jeans.

"Sam," he attempted call out, but found no power in his voice. And really, Sam probably had other stuff to do upstairs. Dean was happy where he was, although he was wearing too many clothes. He really needed to do something about that.

He'd barely gotten his t-shirt over his head when one of the yellow flowers attached itself to his nipple, just below his tattoo. When Dean's head tipped back in pleasure, a tendril slipped into his open mouth. He suckled at the sweet fluid dripping from the tip of the probing greenery and relaxed limply back into the vines that were slowly lowering him to the carpeted floor.

The vine caressing his hard prick had soaked the front of his jeans in fluid and was working agitatedly at his zipper. Dean laughed around the vine in his mouth and made quick work of his jeans and boxers, tossing them to the side, quickly forgotten. He arched up as a vine wrapped itself around his dick, the coiling and uncoiling replicating a stroking hand perfectly, as a thin tendril tantalized his slit. He pushed himself into a kneeling position, wobbling slightly on shaking muscles, and two thick vines wrapped around his thighs to hold his knees apart.

Alarm bloomed briefly in Dean's mind as he felt a probing pressure work its way down from his balls to his ass, but a thick pulse of nectar in his mouth convinced him that there was nothing he'd rather be doing than spreading his legs wide as a slick vine pushed into his hole. The slippery stroking of his dick increased to match the building pressure on his sweet spot and he came agonizingly hard, one of the large, yellow flowers grabbing the head of his dick at the exact moment of his release, drinking him down as the probing vine worked his prostate until he was gasping for mercy.

Dean was boneless with pleasure when a second vine entered his ass and he was stretched impossibly wide. A tiny voice deep in his psyche cried out that it was too much but the pleasure singing through his blood just wanted more. He fell forward, his face pressed to the soft, green carpet, his muscles limp as the vines fucked into him deeper and deeper. "More," he gasped weakly. "Please, more."

Everything seemed normal in the upper part of the house until Sam found a locked closet with a scrap of fabric poking out the bottom. Frowning, he picked the lock and jumped back when several bodies tumbled out at his feet. The corpses were dried out, essentially mummified, and completely naked, by the looks of things, which explained the clothing tossed in amidst the bodies.

"Dean!" he yelled. "I've got something. Get up here." He counted the bodies and confirmed that the numbers matched the missing persons reports they'd come to investigate, but what mummified a body like that? "Dean!" he yelled, louder this time, but he was met with silence. GET UP HERE! he texted, and then snapped a few photos, sending them to Garth to go with the weird plant pics Dean had sent. NOW! DEAN! he texted, but when he still didn't hear boot-falls on the wooden staircase, he swore to himself and went to find his brother.

There was absolutely nothing that could have prepared Sam to find Dean face down on the carpet, naked ass in the air, green vines wrapped around his arms and legs as several of them fucked his ass relentlessly. Dean made a sharp, hurt sound as he came, one of the flower-tipped vines closing over the tip of his cock to catch his release.

"Dean!" Sam yelled and ran to free his brother.

"More," Dean groaned, turning to look at Sam, his green eyes hooded and blank.

As Sam knelt and tried to pull the clinging creepers from Dean's limbs, a vine tipped with a yellow flower pressed itself to Sam's face, forcing the pollen into his mouth as he gasped in surprise. It held tightly, fighting every attempt to yank it off, until Sam wasn't fighting anymore, and had started caressing the slippery vine.

Sam rocked unsteadily on his knees when the flower slid from his face, leaving a dusting of yellow powder scattered across his lips. He licked them unconsciously and grinned. He stroked the green vine that was lightly wrapped around his brother's neck and it uncoiled at his touch, moving to caress Sam's face. He turned his head to lick the vine and moaned as his mouth filled with sticky sweetness. He felt something warm and soft touch his tongue and opened his eyes to see Dean licking the other side of the vine, his pink tongue occasionally brushing against Sam's.

Deep within him Sam knew that he shouldn't grab Dean by the neck and pull him in to kiss him wet and dirty, but he didn't care. He had to have his tongue in Dean's mouth, had to run his hands over all of Dean's gorgeous, naked skin, stroke the pink, stretched tissue around where the vines were penetrating him. Sam felt Dean's hands tugging at his shirt and knew immediately that he should be naked as well. As soon as he'd shed his totally unnecessary clothing, he pressed up behind Dean, rocking his cock against the vines plunging in and out of Dean's ass. Dean gasped and dropped his head back against Sam's shoulder, and when Sam saw his brother's blushing mouth, he wrapped a large hand around Dean's neck and turned him for a hot kiss over his shoulder.

Dean moaning into Sam's mouth felt like the best thing ever, and he rutted against Dean's ass, the plant's slick easing the way until he felt his balls clench and he was shooting stripes of come over his brother's ass and back. Several small vines rushed in to lap up the streaks of spunk and Sam was surprised to discover he was still completely hard. He bit Dean's shoulder and moaned, "More," as he thrust weakly against him.

Turning in Sam's arms, Dean kissed him hard before bending to suckle at Sam's nipple and reaching behind to spread Sam's ass cheeks. Sam felt the tip of a vine probing at his hole. The thin nub stroked and pushed like a slick tongue and Sam felt himself bearing down, trying to welcome the intrusion. He gasped as it surged forward spearing him wide. "More," he groaned. "Please."

Vines looped around Sam's legs and pulled him to stand. He braced himself on Dean's shoulders and Dean leaned in to slurp his cock down, the vines pulling at Sam's thighs the only things that stopped him from collapsing to the floor again. It was all too much, too soon, and his balls clenched in protest, desperate to come again, to shoot hard down Dean's throat, but a vine cinched itself around his balls, preventing him from unloading. Dean pulled off at the sound of Sam's pained whine, and the tendril released suddenly, causing Sam to paint Dean's puffy pink mouth with streaks of white.

Dean relaxed back as multiple vines covered his face in tiny, slurping mouths, cleaning Sam's release from his lips in an instant. He watched as two vines coiled around Sam's arms and pulled them sharply behind him, while a third looped itself around his wrists, pinning them there. Sam dropped to his knees, legs buckling from two intense orgasms and the vine still stripping over his prostrate. A thin tendril pushed it's way into his slit and he keened, the pain of the intrusion countered by the ongoing thrums of ecstatic pleasure pulsing through his system.

His limbs were weak with fatigue but Dean found himself crawling toward Sam, aching to get his hands on Sam's thick cock, and to get his tongue into Sam's ass next to the thrusting vine. His mouth was watering as he pressed in tight, licking at the space where the vine was piercing Sam, teasing the straining muscle with the tip of his tongue. He lapped eagerly at Sam's hole, drinking all the fluid leaking steadily from the probing vine. He never wanted to be doing anything other than tonguing his brother's ass until his hand found Sam's leaking cock and found a new favourite pastime as he started jacking him steadily, in time with the plant's thrusts. A flower found Dean's cock and started nursing at the tip, his balls screamed in protest as he unloaded yet again into the relentless yellow suction.

Dean fell sideways onto the carpet, desire short-circuited by exhaustion, despite the vines trying to pull him upright again. "More," he sighed against the carpet as his eyes slid closed.

"More," Sam groaned in response, his voice harsh and weak.

Sam tried to turn toward his unconscious brother, his protective instinct stronger than any compulsion, but several of the thickest vines surged forward, pulling his arms and knees apart, holding him helpless. He stared at Dean's prone form as a flower engulfed his cock, and it was wet, and soft, and clutched him perfectly and all Sam wanted was to fuck this ersatz pussy until he died. His orgasm hit him like a punch to the balls. He had nothing left, but the vine in his ass just kept strumming his prostate, milking every drop into the clutching flower mouth.

The last thing he said as he fell to join Dean on the carpet was, "More."

A relentless beeping dragged Dean kicking and screaming back to consciousness. "Off," he croaked. "Sammy." The rumbling of his vocal cords was like knives in his throat and he coughed. When he felt a straw pressed to his lips, he sipped eagerly, the cool water was a soothing balm.

The skinny face and large nose that swam into his field of view were less so.

"Hey, Deano. Glad to see you're back with us. They weren't entirely sure you were gonna pull through there."

"Sammy?" Dean asked, trying to sit up, and wincing as a searing pain shot through his balls and ass.

"Yeah, you're not gonna want to move, dude. Sam's okay. He's down the hall. They decided to separate you since I rescued you from that sex cult and they didn't want you relapsing and trying to get at each other before you heal up."

Dean's head swam with confusion. He did not remember any sex cult. He only vaguely remembered a suburban house. "Okay, sex cult sounds awesome, except that my ass does not feel like I was on the right end of that party. But we were investigating that empty house on Roosevelt and I know I'd have remembered a sex cult." Dean frowned as he processed the rest of Garth's words. "And why would they think Sam and I would go at each other?" Dean's face pinched up in distaste. "We're brothers. That's fucked up."

Garth looked away uncomfortably. "Uh, well, I couldn't explain that you guys had been attacked by a killer plant that fucked people to death by drinking all the moisture out of them, so I had to come up with something." His eyes brightened. "After I got your texts, I did some research and figured out what that plant was. It was really hard to figure out but when I did, and you didn't answer my replies telling you to get the fuck out of there, I drove all night to get there.

"You should have seen it, though. I kicked down the door in a hazmat suit and just hit that green bitch with whole tankful of Roundup. And after I'd dragged your naked bodies out to the car, I burned the house to the ground. It's the only way to kill a Pilosella Sinautum.

"And I got you out of there just in time. I'm not sure how long that thing had been, uh, well…" Garth made a vague gesture and Dean fixed him with a dark look. Sitting on his hands, Garth continued, "You wouldn't have lasted much longer. In fact, you were so dehydrated, you'd gone into shock, and your heart was having trouble keeping a rhythm. Sam was in slightly better shape, but I know he drinks water, and not just beer and coffee. That might be a life lesson for you, you know."

Dean listened to Garth's commentary with a bemused grin and then gave him a hard stare.

"But that still doesn't explain they think that we were together?"

Garth started to squirm in the hard chair.

"Garth!" Dean snapped, his throat constricting and setting off a whole new bout of coughing.

Shaking hands passed Dean the water cup. "Well, they used a rape kit on each of you when they saw what kind of shape your, uh, bits were in, and the only DNA they found, uh," Garth's voice climbed an octave, "in you was his, and, uh, in him, was yours."

"Fuck," Dean breathed, sinking back into the thin mattress, and closing his eyes.

"But the pollen that thing extruded was like ecstasy crossed with poppers plus viagra times a thousand so, uh, you really can't blame yourself. Sam is a pretty handsome guy. I mean, he's really tall, and he's got those dimples..." Garth finished lamely.

Dean opened one eye to glare at the skinny man who didn't know when to leave enough alone.

"And we solved the case and the murderous plant is dead, so win!"

"Yeah," Dean repeated, closing his eyes again and pressing the button on his morphine pump. "Win."

When they checked out of the hospital five days later, Garth helped them to the Impala, gave them each a hug and told them not to be strangers. Dean was sure the scrawny hunter was eying them with concern as Dean grudgingly agreed to let Sam drive since he was still way too sore to work the pedals.

"Dean," Sam began when they were seated side by side. His hand was on the key in the ignition, but he hadn't started the car.

"Not gonna talk about it, Sam," Dean warned.

"But we-"

"We were attacked by a monster. Monster is dead. End of story. Now start the damn car-sorry, Baby-and let's go. Or do I have to drive?"

Sam sighed and turned the key, the sweet rumble of the engine beneath him causing Dean to relax back into the seat.

2 Weeks Later, 50 kilometres north

The man climbed the stairs to the porch and dropped his briefcase on the steps. He picked up the pot containing the small, viney plant and a festive "Welcome to the Neighbourhood" sign poking out of the soil. He grinned and looked around at the neighbouring houses. They'd made the right choice moving here.

"Hey, Honey!" he called as he opened the door and stepped into the entrance hall. "The Welcome Wagon left us the cutest plant."