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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Chapter 4

Hours to Go Before I Sleep

From Chapter 3

Sam pulled Dean's wrists together and wrapped them up with one big hand. He lifted the trapped hands over the blonde's head and pinned them to that wall. With his free hand Sam felt Dean up; paying a lot of attention to Dean's rock hard dick. The larger man swept in again and claimed Dean's lips for another bruising, almost violent, kiss.

Just when Dean thought he was going to come in his pants, Sam stopped, spun the smaller man around and smacked his ass hard. Leaning in Sam demonstrated a tongue that felt prehensile to Dean when it circled the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Sam whispered; "Ten o'clock tonight, room 218."

Sam pulled the door key out of Dean's pants pocket, unlocked the doors and left, leaving Dean a quivering mess.

Chapter 4

Dean was left behind in the auction room, disheveled, aroused and deeply pissed off. He stepped into the doorway and watched Sam Addison calmly walk off, leaving the green-eyed Winchester behind like a discarded toy.

Andy immediately entered the room and surveyed his boss. Determining that all the important parts were still there and apparently unbruised Andy closed the door behind him. "Pull it together, Dean." Andy barked. "Excuse the cliché but you really look like you've been 'ridden hard and put up wet'.

The security man laughed. "It looks like that guy knows how to handle you, for sure. Now come on, Boss, you've got an auction to run."

With Andy pushing and snarking Dean sat down and pulled his professional mask back on. The traveling case still lay on the counter and he needed to get it unloaded and the lots in their cases before the bidders started showing up for early views. Straightening his clothes Dean took out his key ring and got to work.

This evening's portion of the sale was limited to a few hours. Really it was more to whet the buyer's appetites for the second evening where more esoteric items would be offered. Sunday night was the special one. By that time the weaker bidders would have been weeded out and sent home happy with the treasures they could afford. Some would be taking problems home with them that might require some special handling later. Dean could see some possibility of using someone like Sam Addison for the requests for help that always came in later when the less knowledgeable of his customers came to realize what they had bought. He wondered if trying to tame Addison might not be worth it. If Addison was the real deal….

Dean mentally slapped himself upside the head. Here he was making up plans to keep Addison around just because the guy gave him an instant boner; not the way to make a business decision. Dean never before had allowed the guys who got into his pants the opportunity to get into his pocket. Firmly pushing away thoughts of the way Addison's hands felt on his body, Dean got to work.

Tonight he would have the Pompadour necklace; a set of Egyptian canonic jars with lids shaped like the heads of the protective deities, the four sons of Horus; The Guillotine blade; a lovely 19th century French Jumeau doll; a Book of the Dead, or Funeral Papyri, another Egyptian artifact; whores' petticoats from the Bird Cage Theatre in Tombstone Arizona and a few other odds and ends.

Some of the items might be haunted. Their proveniences were a little obscure. Of course, he would have to now say that the Guillotine blade only may be haunted, not guaranteed to be haunted as stated in the catalogue, due to Mr. Addison's interference. He hoped to take that loss out of Sam's ass later in the evening perhaps.

This first night was just a taste. The Pompadour necklace he hoped would sell early and quickly. There was no magic attached to that item. It was left over from his Grandfather's time and Dean regarded it as more of a nuisance than anything else. It was worth a lot of money but there was no real historical value to the piece. It wasn't even known how the Lady acquired it. If they had been able to trace it directly to the King that would have been at least something but Granddad had either lost the paperwork or just bought it because it was pretty.

Looking around the room Dean made sure that only tonight's lots had their pedestal lights on. Everything looked ready to go.

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At a quarter to ten the Hotel's elevator stopped on the second floor and Dean Winchester stepped out. He was pretty full of himself. The auction had gone well. His reserves had been well estimated and everything offered had gone for at least the reserve price or a little bit more. Someone had bought the Guillotine Blade even after Dean had denied the ghost.

He was little early for his date but the auction had ended at nine and other than primping in his room he really had nothing else to amuse him. So Mr. Addison was getting an early visitor. Dean had brought along some Samuel Adams Boston Lager to smooth the way. He had considered Budweiser or even Coors Light but decided not to be such a smart ass. Who knew, maybe Addison was a beer snob? Dean was hoping his ass was going to be admired for other reasons than being smart, anyway.

He stepped in front of Room 218's door and knocked.

Sam Addison opened the door and smiled. He was wearing only a loosely tied white bathrobe and his long dark hair was wet. Dean smiled back. He liked his men clean and smelling of shampoo and soap.

"Well hello, Princess." Sam Addison said softly. "You're just a bit early. Come on in."

Dean moved into the room and looked for a place to put the beer down. Addison caught his waist from behind and lifted the six pack away. "Let's get this in the refrigerator, why don't we?" Addison's warm breath caressed Dean's neck as the taller man leaned forward to kiss the sensitive skin below Dean's ear. Sam then let go and put the beer away in the little courtesy fridge but not before snagging two bottles.

"Here we go," Sam handed the bottles to Dean. "Why don't you pop the caps on these while I dry my hair?"

Sam moved across the room to a huge arm chair beside the bed. It was upholstered in dark rose fabric that gleamed in the light of a lamp on the bedside table. Sam sat down. pulled up a towel he had around his neck and began to scrub his hair dry. The bathrobe slithered to the side and exposed his long legs up past his knees to his strong, muscular thighs. Dean got a twitch in his pants just getting a glimpse of the paler skin.

Dean didn't want to get caught staring. He had his pride and didn't want to drool. He looked around for a place to open the bottles.

"There's a bottle opener on the top of the fridge." Sam said, dropping the towel to the floor. The man's white teeth shone in the dim light and Dean shivered at the suggestion of power in that smile. Sam wasn't going to be fooled by any of Dean's pretenses. He knew exactly why Winchester was in the room and what the green-eyed man wanted.

Deane popped the lids with his back turned and heard Sam snort at his obvious avoidance. "Just bring them on over here, Princess."

As Dean approached Sam untied the belt of his robe and dropped it on top of the towel. Now he was exposed from clavicle to toes and Dean could not help himself. His eyes immediately fastened on the man's long dick hanging down between his legs, the tip hidden in shadow. Sam's public hair was dark, thick and curly. Dean wanted, among other things, to feel that hair with his fingers and let it tickle his lips.

As he got close Sam reached out and took the beer bottles from his hand. He parked them on the window ledge behind the chair and captured Dean's wrist with his free hand. Sam pulled Dean in like a fish on a line.

"Princess," that dark voice now resonated with just a hint of smoke and fire, "you're wearing too many clothes for our party."

Sam pulled him in to between his opened knees and started at the top. Slowly the man unbuttoned Dean's pale blue shirt. As each button let ago and Sam played the tension like a master. Dean, intending to speed things along lifted his hands to help but they were knocked away. "No, Princess." Sam grunted. "My toy, my way. Behave."

Once the shirt was undone Sam pushed it down to the crook of Dean's elbows and left it there. Now Dean's arms were loosely restrained. His T-shirt went next, pulled roughly over his head and Sam stopped it also at his elbows. Now Dean was doubly constrained in a tangle of fabric. "So pretty," Sam murmured and pulled Dean forward so Sam could fasten his lips around a nipple. Sucking and teasing Sam used one hand in the small of Dean's back to hold him close while the other went to slow work on Dean's pants.

Clever nimble fingers got the job done and all the while Dean's nipple was held captive and teased. Sm slid the pants and jockeys down to Dena's ankles then let go of the tortured nipple. "Can you get off the shoes and kick the clothes away?" Sam rumbled. Dean hastened to comply.

Sam picked up a bottle of beer from the window ledge and swallowed a large gulp. He then reach forward and tilted the bottle into Dean's mouth. "Drink up green-eyes. You're going to need the fluids." Dean closed his eyes and drank. When the bottle was taken away he felt Sam's hand slide from the small of his back down to one ass cheek. Sam's hand just about completely covered the pert, rounded mound.

Sam's other hand grabbed on to the other cheek. His hand was slightly chilled from holding the bottle. Sam pulled the crack open and fingers started investigating. Slowly a long finger circled and petted Dean's rosy hole. Sam scrabbled around in the bedside table drawer and there was a sensation of cold, slippery dampness now. Sam long finger demanded entrance. Dean moaned and arched his back, raising his ass for easier access.

A second finger was demanding access and Dean felt like maybe it was too soon but Dean wasn't driving this bus. Sam was going to do exactly what he wanted to do. Dean could feel his submissive side waking up and taking control. The stiff necked, control freak was drowning in the pool of submissive emotions and Dan relaxed in his lover's control. Pain, no pain, whatever Sam wanted Dean would allow and enjoy.

Sam let go of Dean's ass and finally pulled the shirts off his arms. "Kneel, Princess," Sam demanded and Dean fell to his knees. "Suck me." was the next command and Dean dived in between Sam's legs eager to obey. "Get me good and hard." Sam twisted in the chair and moved a hand to Dean's hair to control his head. Pushing down with his fingers buried in Dean's short spikes Sam whispered, "Come on bitch, and suck."

Dean's hole begged for the missing fingers; his dick was cry out for attention and he was sucking a dick that filled his mouth all the way down the back of his throat. He ran his hands up and down Sam's legs begging for whatever the bigger man would give him. As Sam's dick filled Dean could not help but wonder at the size of the dick he was hoping to ride. It was almost frightening but Dean was more than willing to try and take it.

Sam groaned and started pulling up on Dean's arms. "Come on, baby, get on and ride." Dean had been expecting the bed but this was possibly even better. He had never taken a ride in a chair before. Sam helped him climb onto his lap. Dean got on his knees and slid down each side of Sam's hips, blocked in by the chair's arms. It was like the piece of furniture had been made to fit them. Dean rose up as Sam reached around to line up and then Dean was sinking down on that heavy, long dick. Each inch was a heady combination of pleasure and pain and half way down Sam reach up under his arms and grabbed on to the green-eyed man's shoulders and slammed in the rest of the way.

Dean whimpered and fell forward, burying his face in Sam's neck.

"Oh, poor baby. Did that hurt?" Sam chucked. "How about this?" He picked Dean up and slammed his ass down again. "Come on, you can take it slut." Sam hissed.

Dean rose up again and Sam slapped his ass. "Move it. Come on, make me happy."

Dean's own dick was rubbing against Sam's stomach and between that sensation, the sparks exploding every time Sam slammed into his prostrate and the burning in his ass as Sam smacked his cheeks, Dean was turning into a giant, compliant sex toy. The way Sam was fucking and beating his ass it was a wonder the chair held together. In a small corner of Dean's mind he made a note to buying one just like this one.

When he felt Sam shoot his load Dean answered with an orgasm of his own. Behind his eyelids there was a fourth of July light show going off. Dean had nothing, ever, to compare this ride to. He curled forward into Sam's arms and the bigger man covered his neck and jaw in kisses. Holding on loosely to Sam's shoulders Dean wanted nothing more than to rest.

He could feel Sam's come starting to leak out of him. This was the point at which he usually dismounted and headed for the bathroom but Sam's big arm had him firmly pinned down and he didn't think he was going to be allowed to go anywhere for a while. Even so he was more than a little shocked when Sam inserted a plug in his ass. Sam whispered, "Can't damage the hotel's property, can we? They might not let us back again. I'm thinking we might want to use this chair again sometime this weekend."

As they began to cool they started feeling all sticky and after about five minutes Sam pushed Dean off his lap and stood up. "Come on, Princess. Let's hit the shower and get ready for bed."

This was when Dean normally got back in charge. He was master of the roost and if his bed partner got too pushy there was always Andy waiting in the hallway. Dean realized he had broken his own rules. He had been so anxious to see Sam again he hadn't told Andy where he was going. There wasn't any convenient muscle waiting outside the door. There was only Sam.

Dean looked for his pants, which he had kicked off early in the program. They were on the other side of the room with his phone in the pocket.

Sam seemed to understand exactly what was going through Dean's head. "It's all right, Princess. I'm not going to hurt you. Maybe I'll screw you again but I wouldn't think you object to that. Let's hit the shower."

In the shower Sam took very good care of Dean. He soaped him up with a frothy body wash and cleaned away all the evidence. He even took the plug out. Sam got out of the shower first and wrapped up in the hotel's towels. "I'm pretty sure you have a night time routine. There's a new toothbrush on the sink. I'll see you in bed in a little while." Sam left and closed the door behind him.

As soon as Dean was done he opened the bathroom door and headed for his pants.

Sam was a large lump in the bed. "Don't bother, Princess." His voice rumbled. "I've got your phone over here and the door is locked. Just come to bed. You can make your call from here."

Dean did as he was told and climbed into the bed. Sam leaned over and nibbled on Dean's ear lobe. He breathed warm air on the damp skin and while Dean was distracted reached around and shoved the plug back up his ass. Dean yelped in surprise and Sam laughed. "It's just to keep you open. I don't want to waste time in the morning."

"After you make your call I have a present for you. Here." Dean felt his phone pressed into his hand. He dialed Andy and reported in.

"No Andy, everything's fine. I'm in room 218 with Sam. No problem. I'll be sleeping here tonight. I know. It's all right. I want to stay." Dean turned the phone off and put it on the bedside table. He rolled over and faced Sam.

Sam smiled and ran a hand down his Dean's cheek. "Everything fine with your sitter?'

Dean snorted. "Don't let Andy hear you call him that. He calls me boss."

Sam sat up in the bed and reached for something again.

"You know, Sam." Dean drawled. "You certainly have everything all set up around you. I'm beginning to worry every time you open a drawer."

Sam laughed. "Sit up Princess. Don't you want your present?" Dean pulled himself up and was surprised when Sam circled his neck with something cold.

"What the hell is that?" Dean asked, putting up a hand to his neck and finding a necklace. Sam was still fiddling around with the clasp.

"It's your collar, Princess. This one is just temporary. I have a nicer one coming tomorrow."

"What?" Dean yelped. "A collar? Why would I wear a collar? I'm not a dog."

"You may not be a dog but for this weekend at least you are going to be my bitch so get used to it and don't try to take it off." Sam laid back down and reached out to turn off the light. "I mean it. Leave it alone. It's a warning that you are claimed and if I catch you flirting with anyone else this weekend the tanning I just gave your ass will be love taps in comparison to the punishment I'll hand out."

"I'll have to give that idea some thought Addison. I don't remember agreeing to this." Dean replied. "I have a business to run, you know. I'm not here mainly for your pleasure."

Sam yawned. "Really? Well, isn't life surprising?"