Chapter Nine: Rolling on the Highway to Destruction
The next morning went without angelic visitors, and Dean and Sam prepared to make the journey to meet Ava, the closest person that they knew to have had the same ritual as Dean. It was easy to forget how much danger that they were in with the thoroughly sated mood that last night had left them in. But as Sam gazed at the sigil that he had carved into the wall to ward off angels from the house, he sighed, knowing that he would have to come to terms with what he now was and the consequences that came with it.
Bobby and John were in the study when he knocked tentatively on the door. He had been resting so deeply the night before that Dean had said that he slept right through their arrival home.
"Come in," Bobby said.
Sam walked into the room and fought not to shove his hands into his jean pockets.
"You doin' alright? I heard you passed the test." John stared up the conversation.
"Yeah, I just needed to sleep. It was intense, to say the least." Sam smiled wryly. "Are you staying to look for Azazel?"
John nodded, "I figure that if I can find him, we can avoid this whole mess before it starts,"
Even Sam knew that John knew it was a fool hearty attempt, it didn't matter if they dispatched with Azazel. There would just be another to replace him, possibly stronger too.
But Sam nodded back. "Well, I was just thinking about the whole angel ordeal and I can't really get over the fact that some of the angels might be working against us. So..." Sam breathed deeply, and held out his open palm. A wide silver dagger, not unlike the weapon that he now owned as a Guardian, appeared.
Sam grasped the blade with his left hand and presented the handle to John.
Dean's father stared at it. Bobby raised an eyebrow.
"And this is…?" John asked.
"One of the only weapons that can kill an angel. Works on demons too."
Bobby got up from behind the desk and took the knife gingerly in his hands. The metal was smooth and cold, and did not warm from the skin contact at all.
"I didn't want to leave without giving you something other than the wards," Sam looked sad and sheepish.
"Won't you get in trouble for this?" Bobby asked, not taking his eyes off the weapon.
"Well, my mother gave that to me, and Joshua gave it to her…so I really don't know or care," Sam shook his head, "It's not like I have a reputation to keep. Just don't go around killing angels that don't try to hurt you first."
Bobby and John smiled, but agreed seriously.
"Thank you,"
"You're welcome. We're about ready to head out now…"
"SAM!!" Dean's voice yelled out.
"And that's my queue. Sorry for the trouble I've caused." Sam's sheepish look was added by the faintest of blushes on his neck and face.
"Don't you worry about that. Knowing the Winchesters is not all that different from knowing the Hawk family, apparently," Sam laughed when John rolled his eyes at Bobby's ribbing comment.
"I'll take care of this," Bobby held up the dagger.
"Nah, keep it. I never needed it before and I have a new weapon now," Sam waved goodbye and laughed again at Dean's shouting from the car outside.
Bobby shook his head. "If your boy don't end up marrying Sam, I'm gonna have his head examined."
John smiled, "Don't think he could have found anyone better…same for Sam,"
"Yeah, they're a lethal duo."
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"Damn. And I was hoping that we might've actually been able to meet with her today." Dean shifted under the covers.
"You started it," Sam said, teasingly. Really, they were here in Boston to warm Ava, maybe set up a few defenses. It wasn't their fault that their libidos wouldn't let them leave the hotel room when they got there at four in the afternoon. Of course…it was nearing ten o'clock now…
"You're supposed to be the responsible one. It's not fair that you look fucking sexy all the time. Those stupid jeans you wear should be illegal." Dean groaned.
"Me, the 'responsible one'? We're in trouble if you think that." Sam chuckled, "You're not so easily resistible yourself,"
Dean sighed dramatically, "The curse of being a Winchester,"
"Yeah…Bobby warned me about that," Sam smirked, "Ellen too."
"What?" Dean's eyes widened jokingly, "Why do I get to be the bad guy in this? No one warned me about you…"
"It's probably because they think that you're the top," Sam laughed.
"Hey! I do top, just as much as you!" Dean pinned Sam on the mattress, laughing along with him, and nipped Sam's neck in retaliation.
"Hmm," Sam tilted his chin up as Dean continued his 'attack'. "Prove it then,"
Dean grinned when Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders. He leaned in and roughly captured Sam's mouth as he slipped a hand into Sam's hair. Dean's fingertips skimmed down Sam's chest, almost touching the skin and feeling it rise into goose bumps, making Sam writhe under him. He ran his nails over Sam's neck as his other hand slid under Sam and massaged Sam's left buttock, teasing the hole with the pads of his fingers.
Sam moaned and moved into the mixed sensations that Dean always enjoyed to play on his body. The older man was skilled enough to completely distract him from when Dean opened the tube until a slippery finger worked its way inside of him. Dean sucked on his neck, leaving Sam's lips free to gasp and make all those delicious noises. By the time Dean had three fingers working into Sam; Sam was arching and begging with bruising grips on Dean's arms.
"Fucking tease," He puffed out, "Dean... come on, I'm more than ready…nnnn," He hated and loved the way Dean knew his erogenous zones so well.
Dean bit down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, chuckling. "You're just too sexy like this. I wanna see you cum with just my fingers up your ass, wanna make you scream. You telling me that you don't wanna cum?"
"Dean… you bastard," Sam grit his teeth, trying not to give Dean the satisfaction of hearing him moan. "I wanna cum with you. Wanna feel you pound into me; leave marks from holding me so hard as you lose control," Sam growled lowly, "You telling me that you don't want that?"
Dean groaned as his eyes darkened further. It was like the best fucking wet dream ever, his beautiful angel with such a filthy mouth, pleading to be fucked into oblivion. He pulled his fingers out and pinned Sam to the bed with his other hand as he slicked himself quickly. Sam's legs spread and tucked themselves around Dean's waist, a wanton abandon blowing his hazel coloring almost black with lust as Dean pushed all the way into him with one thrust. Sam's head was thrown back as Dean started with a rough pace, not even having to struggle to find Sam's prostate.
Dean had Sam by the hips, keeping up his tempo without too much effort. The need to be harder, faster, deeper overwhelmed him, and he pushed Sam's legs up on his shoulders. Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he let loose a sinful groan and gripped the sheets roughly. It wasn't long before every stroke made him see white, and he came with Dean's hand wrapped around his cock, nearly screaming.
Dean slammed in harder as Sam tightened impossibly vise-like on him, moaning loudly as he buried himself a final time and came, feeling ready to black out with the incredible force of his orgasm. They breathed in harsh tandem together, regaining their minds slowly as they rode the aftershock of oh-so-fucking-amazing sex.
Dean fell next to Sam after he pulled out, a wistful smile in place. He looked over to his angelic lover and said, with all the tact of a sailor,
"I fucking rock as top, sweetheart, don't you ever doubt that,"
Sam could only nod and laugh breathlessly, "Goof. I never said that you didn't. Everyone should bow to your toppy greatness, oh homo sex god,"
He laughed harder as Dean puffed up his chest and smacked him with a pillow before they burrowed into each other's embrace, sated and ridiculously peaceful.
