Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke (a minor god) and the CW.

Written for a drabble response by Flynn_boyant. Request: "Kind of in the mood for some dark!Wincest fic. And you know I've never seen a fic where both of them go darkside at the same time!"

Amusement

The blood was already drying, shedding off their skin as they moved against each other, mouths locked in a savage kiss offset by the grins they were trying to suppress. They had killed Lilith, Sam trapping her in the body she possessed with his powers while Dean plunged Ruby's knife in her back, straight through her heart.

Bodies littered the room, the hostages Lilith had tried to use against them. They had killed them all first, taken out her human shields as the cannon fodder they were. It had been so easy, despite what Dean had told Sam, he still thought it would have taken more work, or caused him more emotional pain than it did.

But Dean was right, as he tended to be, and all that time in Hell had taught him that humans were disposable. It wasn't hard to convince the Sam he had come back to (the wild Sam who Hunted anything he could find) that he should give it a try. Nothing mattered but the two of them, everything else existed for their amusement.

Dean slammed Sam back against the nearest wall, kicking aside the limp form of a child with his foot. He had fantasized about this, in the few moments he had to actually think while in Hell, had remembered all the little looks and touches his brother had given him, all the little indications of something neither would confess to. But Sam wasn't human, not wholly, and Dean realized holding him to those standards was only causing them both pain (he wasn't human, not entirely, anymore--Hell had done something to him, the attention of so many demons over such a short period of time had twisted him--he could understand Sam better, now).

They could continue hunting, they knew, could wipe out anything that they didn't like. Or they could fulfill Sam's destiny, have the whole world to themselves. It was too tempting an offer to resist, now that they felt the slide of fresh blood on their bodies, the warmth of a dying person under their hands. This was what they had always been meant for, everyone else, their father, Jessica, Missouri, had just been holding them back, scared of their potential.