Caveman, Meet Vampire
Summary: The Winchester's are hired to keep him occupied. No one told them how to do that specifically. [Contains SLASH, threesome and Wincest. Please don't read if you don't like it]
"Well, ain't you a pretty little thing?" Sam raised his eyes to the man that had appeared beside him at the bar and arched an eyebrow. The man was good looking, sure enough, had an edge of danger about him that set alarm bells ringing in Sam's head but that didn't mean Sam wasn't interested. He leaned over and ran his nose up the stranger's neck, breathing in deeply, catching every scent he could and moving back, seeing the man's amused look only brighten. "Caveman?" he quipped and Sam's lips twitched, filing all the information he'd got away and downing his shot. He gave the man one more look and walked out of the bar.
As Sam walked away from the bar, he could feel someone, the man, following him and he thought about what he'd caught from the guy's scent. No sweat, at all. The man was as dry as a bone. But there was stale smoke, unpleasant but bearable; a mixture of perfumes, cheap and expensive, the man wasn't picky. Sam caught an aftershave or two as well. Certainly not picky. The most prominent scent of all though was blood. Lots of it. The metallic tang of coppery tinged liquid was long gone from the skin, but the scent was still there. Strong, hard to miss. Which meant the guy was either a serial killer who liked to bathe in blood, or something supernatural who ingested blood. Often.
Sam's first guess was Vampire, but not like the one's he and his brother had encountered before. The only other kind Sam had heard about was a more 'traditional' kind as far as modern romanticised lore goes; holy water hurts, crosses hurt, can be killed by a stake to the heart, fire or beheading. Their faces changed when their 'fangs' dropped too. More twisted and gnarled bone structure.
He pulled his phone out when he was five minutes from the motel and texted his brother.
"Why are you running, Caveman?" the guy was by his side, falling into step with him.
Sam spared him half a glance but continued to walk along in silence. The guy, intrigued and clearly aware that he was being led somewhere, followed until they were at the hotel.
Just as Sam reached out to put the key into the door of his room, the guy's hand dropped onto his, holding it in place.
"There's someone inside there, you know that, right?" he asked, eyebrow raised and Sam gave him a withering look that told him exactly what Sam thought of the question. The door opened and Sam stepped inside, the guy behind him. "Well, this is cosy," the guy drawled, closing the door behind him firmly.
"Here's how this is gonna work," Dean came out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. You're gonna kneel in the middle of the floor and do as you're told until we say otherwise."
The guy stared at Dean and laughed. "Oh sweetheart, that's just precious," he chuckled, getting control of himself, gasping as his knees were kicked out behind him and he dropped hard to his knees. "Who the hell are you two?" he growled, flinching away from Sam as he held a wooden cross inches from the guy's neck.
"You don't have a name for guys like us," Dean smirked. "Suffice it to say, we have a job to do. And you are gonna play your role like a good little vampire. Because sweetheart... we've both been to hell, and we've learned a lot... of nice tricks." He held a pistol with a long barrel up, aimed directly at the guy's head. "See this? This gun is one of a kind. There are six beings in existence that it can't kill, and you, my dear, dear Angelus, are not one of them. So buck up, and let my brother tie your hands. I promise, you might actually enjoy what we do to you."
Despite himself, Angelus did enjoy it.
He enjoyed them handling him like he'd never let anyone handle him before; rough, purely for their enjoyment, not even Darla had taken that from him. To the brothers, he was a tool, his pleasure was secondary and to them, if he got off, it was a bonus for him. Any mess he caused he had to clean up.
They'd started away from the more pleasurable aspects of the night though... they had a bullwhip that had been soaking in holy water and used it on his back, making him cry out behind the gag they'd forced into his mouth. They used a special knife in their possession to mark him to a point where his natural healing didn't help him at all. He would scar with that knife. With it, they carved symbols into Angelus' hips, for their amusement; a vague sense of ownership he knew they wouldn't fully grasp, or care about either way. They strung him up, nailed him to the floor, tore him apart over and over for hours, keeping him on the brink of rebellion, and then it turned sexual and they used him so thoroughly that he could see it, feel it, hear and taste it for months... years afterwards.
They were both inside him, filling him almost to breaking point when something inside him flared and he arched his back, tensing all over and screamed through the gag, slumping, exhausted a few seconds later.
"There he is," Sam chuckled in front of him, thrusting upwards and making him flinch as he came round.
"Looks like they managed the ritual... it'd be a shame for us to stop though... we're almost there, aren't we Sammy?" Dean asked the rhetorical question but Sam murmured an agreement anyway and they began thrusting in earnest. Angel, newly resouled, was powerless against them and he writhed, aching between them, his dick hard against Sam's stomach
"Almost there," Sam panted, reaching up to roughly rake his fingernails down Angel's chest, clawing over his nipples and eliciting another scream as the vampire reached his orgasm seconds before they reached theirs.
"He was actually kinda fun," Dean said half an hour later as they were stood by the door, bags packed, ready to leave while Angel was still in the middle of the floor, body bloodied, bruised, battered and broken, but alive.
"Come on, I'll find you a vampire you can actually kill," Sam smirked, nudging his suddenly excited brother out the door, giving the vampire behind them one last glance before following him.
Angel heard them leave, heard the car roar to life and drive away and he winced as aches and pains flooded his system. It had been like being back in hell, but he couldn't believe how much he'd longed for it without actually realising what exactly he was longing for.
He felt good. Free.
Sated.
Word Count: 1,114
Just a bit of fun, I got bored and felt Angelus would be good mark. If it's not obvious, Angel's friends hired the Winchesters to keep Angelus 'occupied' while they re-souled him. If I'm inspired enough, I might add more parts to this, though in other fics. This will remain a one-shot. Let me know if you like it! :)
