Bonus: Sam and the Twins
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Sam hadn't felt this alive in years. This was first kiss, first time making love, first real adrenaline rush on your first hunt kind of alive. It was like being buzzed on caffeine without the drawbacks, being just so awake that he needed, craved motion, movement, anything. He had never been so pleased to be asked to dance.
It wasn't a truly conscious decision at first—flirting with the twins. With both of them. Sam grinned to himself, thinking that he was as bad as his brother. By why did that have to be bad really? Sam had certainly never heard any of Dean's one-nighters complain. Hearing them agree, on the other hand—if the walls were thin enough—was something Sam had experienced more times than he cared to remember.
So no, it wasn't conscious at first. He fell into it naturally, pleased at their responses and how easy it was for him to smile and laugh and be. He could sense Epica and Attoinette's returned attraction, sense the pheromones when they first started to lure him. That instinctual addition wasn't what swayed him though. Sam doubted—brimming with power and feeling all of his true potential—that there was a being alive that could have power over him. Maybe one day even Malak would be a trifling thing easily dispatched.
It was thrilling, that was true. Sam had never reveled in his own power before, knowing the dangers of that, and as powerful as he felt tonight he didn't allow himself to revel now either. Instead, he took what the power filled him with and used it to focus full-bodied on one thing.
Being Sam Winchester.
He knew it was what Dean would want and what Jessica would want for him too. They couldn't chase after anymore demons tonight anyway, but Sam's thoughts were still on saving his brother. Making Dean happy, seeing him smile unmarred, laughing, and elbowing 'little Sammy' for finally being a man and chasing a little tail, saved Dean in ways the older hunter often overlooked. Sam could give Dean that. Sam would give Dean anything.
The part of it all that was purely selfish paled in comparison to the desire to make Dean happy, but Sam was enjoying himself for his own sake too. He knew what the twins wanted, what they were so obviously after besides just having a good time with an old friend, and what they had asked Sasha's permission for.
Attoinette had said that she could only sense Sam as a normal, regular guy, his power being so amplified that he could easily mask himself. But then Sam had to wonder if the twins were unconsciously lured by that power anyway, by an undercurrent even Sam didn't fully understand.
Dancing felt great as a way to burn some of that excess energy. Sam laughed that that thought could even cross his mind. But it did. He wasn't even twenty-five years old, not for another couple months. He deserved to act his age once in a while.
Seeing Dean and Sasha on the dance floor too, their casual, sneaky touches and ways of swaying close and then away again made the whole thing even better. Sam loved the couple they were. Tonight he didn't have that sinking, mourning feeling at all, not like he had at Wade's bar in Pittsburgh. He only felt the affection he had for both of them and the warm, comforting knowledge that occasionally the world actually got a few things right.
Like him and Jessica. That was right. That was wonderful, however brief. Sure, Sam could admit that he wanted that for himself again, and maybe one day he would find it, but for now he could settle for making sure Dean and Sasha never suffered like he did. He could also settle—no, enjoy—the company of Epica and Attoinette.
"Now in case you're a little rusty later," Dean had started to say before he and Sasha left. Of course Sam couldn't acknowledge that and had to playfully push at his brother's chest, laughing, because they both knew what each other would be doing tonight.
Then Dean and Sasha were gone and Sam was back in the whirlwind of the twins, dancing, and music. There was a throng in his head, whispers that seemed to say if he just opened himself up the littlest bit more he could hear the thoughts of everyone in the bar all at once and it wouldn't be overwhelming. He could sense the twins for what they were and feel the contrast of all the normal human beings. He could still sense Sasha as he and Dean drove away. There were even a few spirits in town. Not harmful ones, just there. And also a few things Sam sensed that he couldn't recognize, things he would have to learn.
Just being like that, dancing with the twins and soaking everything in so that his powers could truly breathe for a moment made Sam feel invincible.
He was the one who finally said that he really should be getting back to the motel, and did the girls have a car, would they be kind enough to drop him off since he had maybe had a little too much to drink. None of those words matched their subtext of course. As much as Sam could easily mask his powers he allowed for the twins to at least sense that.
As it turned out the twins did have a car. Epica drove. Sam didn't ask if it was something they always had or just rented. The car wasn't anything special or that he could name. Not that it mattered. He chuckled to himself thinking that Dean could have been with triplets and he would have managed to note the make and model of the car more accurately than his conquests' names.
While Epica drove, Sam and Attoinette sat in the back, which was a little awkward at first. The part of Sam's conscious mind that was still very much a boy scout—he could admit that to himself—felt exposed and fidgety when Attoinette first started pressing up against him, sliding one small but firm hand up his thigh and squeezing through the denim. It just seemed like there should be some sort of etiquette to follow since Epica could so clearly see them through the rearview mirror.
Then Sam realized. She couldn't just see them. She was watching.
The moment Sam realized this his eyes met Epica's in the glass and he felt his face flush with heat. Epica's eyes weren't the same bright blue as Sasha's or like Charis' that were practically silver; they were a deeper blue, especially in the dark. Maybe it was lust shining there—shimmering, expectant. Regardless, Sam knew then that it was okay and turning to Attoinette beside him, he caught those same dark blue eyes but different now, so different. His gaze drifted slowly to her mouth, slightly parted, smiling. She squeezed his thigh again, higher up this time, promising. And suddenly Sam was kissing her.
It was an eruption really, a great collision of all the wanting between them that finally found release through lips and tongues. It reminded Sam—he realized this with something of a pained shock—of Madison, the last woman he had been with, though he would never admit that to Dean. Sasha could probably tell just by looking at him. Sasha could probably smell it, the lack of anything but Sam himself. The twins had to be able to sense it too and maybe that was why they offered this and wanted this so heatedly.
Sam didn't know where the twins were staying but he knew where they would be staying tonight since Epica had driven them to the hunters' motel. By then Sam had begun kissing the soft skin along Attoinette's neck. She sighed just like how she giggled, melodic and all together sweet. It was such a wonderful contrast to Epica and how she came around to the passenger side door and dragged him suddenly out of the car away from her sister only to push him up against the vehicle with amazing force and claim his lips for her own. It went unspoken but acknowledged that watching Sam and Attoinette in the backseat had spurned Epica along just fine.
Attoinette was giggling again as she got out of the car after them, never jealous or possessive. Neither of them ever seemed to get that way as their night continued, but instead they shared him like something precious they had to treat with tender—well, more oftentimes fierce—care.
At some point Sam knew he must have said where his room was and had to have produced the key, though maybe one of the twins fished it out of his pocket. He did remember passing by Dean and Sasha's room and hearing a few telling thuds that made him chuckle and realize that he definitely wasn't completely in his right mind tonight. He was a little drunk, a little power-buzzed, and, he could admit it, very horny.
Single words floated around Sam in the twins' like but still different voices once they were inside his room. It was a calming, whispered mantra as they worked together to remove him of his clothing without ceremony or hesitation.
"Here."
"Relax."
"Come."
"Warm."
"Trembling."
"Okay?"
"Calm."
"Touch."
"Breathe."
"Feel."
"Lucky."
Lucky. Sam clung to that word, knowing he had missed so many between the ones he had heard. They were saying they were lucky, lucky to be with him. It got Sam lost in all those soothing utterances and he wondered since he couldn't hear his own voice if he was responding into their minds. They never said anything about it but he made an extra effort not to think too much. He didn't want to accidentally order what would be willingly given. He just wanted to be. Just be. Just be Sam Winchester.
Sam Winchester knew how to do this.
Admittedly, Sam Winchester knew how to do this one on one. The double-teaming was new. It seemed like there were hands everywhere. He was down to his jeans and he could feel soft fingertips pressing into his chest and back. He had to get his bearings; the room was dark and he was nearly stumbling as the girls led him back towards the bed.
Sam broke away from whichever twin was kissing him, who he saw was Attoinette again; Epica had his hips from behind, gently tugging while she lifted up on tiptoe to tongue his ear. Sam shivered amidst the double sensations and watched how Attoinette's eyes glowed in the dark of the room. Did Sasha's, Sam wondered briefly. Did Dean get this lost in them?
Epica must have climbed onto the bed because suddenly she was pushing Sam's shoulder down so that he would sit on the edge. Finally this gave her a height advantage, up on her knees behind him. She was rough, sucking and biting his shoulder, up his neck and to his ear again where she swiped her tongue in languid strokes.
Attoinette came forward, parting Sam's legs with her hands so she could sink between them right into his arms for another deep, slow kiss. She wasn't really that much taller than him like this, standing while he was sitting, so small and seemingly frail for all the power that was really in both of them.
Melting into the kiss that was so wonderfully sweet and affectionate compared to Epica's alluring roughness, Sam fell prey easily to how they complimented each other. He could feel the pheromones pressing on him and he let them cloud his mind with desire, a willing victim.
He had Attoinette around the waist and allowed his hands to slither up her sides to her shoulders and down her arms. He gripped there tight and then moved back up to her shoulders, sliding his hands down her arms once again while this time bringing the straps of her dress down as well. His fingers grazed the soft skin beneath. Moving down her back to seek the zipper, he realized it must be some cosmic succubus miracle that she wasn't wearing a bra but still remained that voluptuously perky. As he brought the dress down she was revealed soft and ivory and he felt the flush to his cheeks burn hotter.
Her markings were beautiful. He hadn't expected to find any on her chest since Sasha's were only on his hips and back. But succubae, it seemed, also had them detailed and delicate beneath and around their breasts, gently encasing them like lace. Even more surprising was the warm, dusty-rose color. Sam had seen Lindsey and Charis and Cam; he knew the color schemes could vary. But dark pink was just so fitting and beautiful for these women. He wanted to see the rest of them.
Easily the dress slipped down Attoinette's body. Her hips were slim despite an ample chest and Sam was not surprised to find her wearing a thong, pink with purple trim. He could see the dark rose tattoos coiling around her hips from out of the silky underwear. It seemed almost too intimate a thing to touch the markings, such a bare and exposed part of what she really was, but Sam reached out anyway.
With gentle fingers Sam traced the curving lines, first on her hips and then further up to ghost around her breasts. He even reached around her back, pulling her close, her bare chest pressing into his so he could feel where he knew her wings would be.
Attoinette whimpered in the back of her throat as he did all this, shivering a little in his arms. He kissed her shoulder. Her neck. Had no one before ever cherished her for what she was?
Behind Sam, Epica was squeezing his biceps and licking the places she had marked on his neck. She bit hard into his pulse point suddenly, making him gasp. Fangs. Then he grinned because he knew why she had done that. Seeing him touch Attoinette—her parody self—stirred something in Epica. There was a breathy growl that accompanied that bite, something Sam was certain she wouldn't have allowed if not for the fact that he knew what they were. Attoinette giggled at her sister and Sam understood.
Releasing Attoinette, he turned, climbing immediately onto the bed so that Epica had to fall back and scoot her way up the mattress or risk being overtaken by is larger body. She smirked up at him as she moved always just out of reach until her head was on one of the pillows. The bed was big enough for two but maybe not quite three. They'd make it work though.
Sam realized that Epica had lost her jacket at some point too, just in that low-cut red tank that showed off her midriff. Just as he fit his fingers underneath the fabric and began to lift, he felt Attoinette slithering up behind him, reaching her small hands around his waist and beginning to undo the button to his jeans. He lifted Epica's shirt over her head just as Attoinette tugged his jeans and shorts down his thighs.
It was hard to focus on any one thing so Sam didn't try to, he just sank into the feeling of the both of them. He kissed Epica's chest and that blue star tattoo, then further down her stomach and navel. He moaned as Attoinette kissed up his back and feathered teasing fingers between his legs. It was encompassing. He was up on his knees with Epica between his legs, but when Attoinette curled her fingers around him and tugged he nearly sunk bonelessly to the bed.
He was too big for Attoinette to properly get around his broad back so she pushed at him just enough to get her point across. Sam lay down on his side next to Epica, moving into her body as she turned towards him and scooted back, leaving enough room for Attoinette to fall behind Sam and more easily keep her hands on him. He could feel the warmth of her skin all along behind him. She had definitely lost the thong at some point.
Sam concentrated on getting Epica on even footing with them. He kissed her hard, just like she kissed, surprised but pleasantly to feel the same fangs he had felt on his neck. Now Sam knew Sasha and Dean did something with that. It was just the kind of kink Dean would be into. And really, Sam couldn't deny the strange appeal, the way that slight prick made him shiver.
One hand strayed to the star tattoo, his fingers smoothing little half circles. The other hand moved lower to Epica's jeans, undid the button, slid down the zipper, and slipped nimble fingers inside. He almost laughed then though he couldn't say he was all that shocked.
No underwear.
"Mmmm…" Attoinette hummed as if she was the one he was touching. Sam couldn't help humming in response because those delicate fingers were strong in all the right ways as they held firm on him and stroked, her tongue flitting over his shoulder blades.
Epica didn't hum but growled again instead. She almost seemed worried for a moment afterwards, as if she had just then realized that she was letting a little of the succubus out to play. Sam reassured her with a hand on her cheek, his thumb gently going to her lips and pressing past them to tap a fang. He smiled. He wanted to see more of her true nature and tried to emote that, to impart that with some small part of his powers. Her eyes flashed red almost immediately.
Maybe if Sam was in his right mind without a slight haze of alcohol, such a rush of power, and all the pheromones he had allowed to pass into his senses, he would have thought it strange how much he wanted to know if this was what it was like for Dean when he was with Sasha. Of course he understood where the obvious differences would be, besides there being two sex vampires instead of one, but still, the way those fangs felt against his lips, the sight of those red eyes glowing in the dark, the way Attoinette's free hand traced gently up his stomach with claws, it was like nothing Sam could have imagined.
Then Sam thought of the circuit, of what he had heard from Sasha and Dean, and then later again from Sasha more detailed when he asked the incubus to explain further. It wasn't only something shared with someone marked, it was just that Dean being marked made the circuit more pronounced, more accessible. Sam wanted to feel it. He asked for that without having to ask.
It was only then when rose colored wings were surrounding him and he was lost somewhere in the twin circuits that had a hold of him, that Sam really understood what Dean would lose if he went to Hell. Sam understood because he could remember what it felt like to have this kind of thrill but to be loved as well. It wasn't about love with Epica and Attoinette but he could still remember. And as he remembered he felt for his brother that much more. Sam rode out the waves of the circuit in a delirium of touching and being touched, of being held in soft hands and later being surrounded and filled with warmth by something sweeter. All the while he was both there in the room and somewhere else, a part of him lost in memories of Jessica and the last time they were together, while the rest of him was with Dean.
Sam trembled, thinking of the reasons he had been without this for so long, because of mourning Jess and mourning Madison, because of falling to the obsession of saving Dean at all costs so that nothing else could ever matter more than that. He felt more now how lonely he had been than he did when he was actually alone. But he was so seldom alone really. He would look up and there would be Dean smirking about something or Sasha laughing and that was enough. Sam couldn't be lonely with them there. But he was.
He had born his loss, it was true, but Sasha and Dean shouldn't have to. Sam had to save Dean. He had to find all of the demons. Nothing, nothing could stand in his way.
Even as he thought of all that, the euphoria of sensations melted into something hotter that traveled down into his hands and sizzled. His hands seared with that power, he could feel it, and he gripped whatever he was holding hard, realizing only then that it was forearms, thin and cool to the touch. He poured all of that burning energy into the skin beneath his palms, feeling it heat up and blister away into nothing so easily...
"Sam."
Sam opened his eyes suddenly to a yellow haze that covered everything. With those eyes, his demon eyes, he saw a world barren and black with red dripping along the horizon. There was no sun, no point of light, and yet something was glowing enough to illuminate the land, land that was so hot heat waves were radiated up from it. Trees that should be filled with leaves were burnt away. Husks of ash stood lining empty, broken streets and Sam knew those husks had once been people. Only he alone walked untouched along the middle of some unknown, unimportant road in a town that no longer existed. He was naked and glowing with power. It frightened him that the cracked concrete melted beneath his feet as he walked.
"Dean!" Sam called out, because what other name could be important in an empty world.
"Sammy…" came a whisper like the ash of the no-more people.
Sam turned quickly around to stare down the road behind him. The land was so flat, he could see for miles in every direction and everything looked like the surroundings beside him—black, barren, dead.
There was a hill not far away that might have had grass once. Sasha and Dean were standing on top of it looking down at him. But Sasha was changed, his incubus self, with black wings out and ready for flight even though he was crouched by Dean's feet. His fangs glistened within a sickly smile.
But it was Dean that made Sam's heart clench tight. Dean was seemingly just Dean at first, in jeans, a black T-shirt, and his favored leather jacket. His combat boots were clean somehow of all the dirt and ash of the land. He looked glorious and perfect like always, smiling free as anything, and Sam realized then that the light, the meager light keeping the world from being utterly consumed in darkness was coming from Dean. But it was flickering, fading away.
What was worse was that Dean's eyes were not the soft green and brown Sam knew so well and loved. They were black. All over black. Demon black. And as Dean looked at Sam, grinning with Sasha at his feet, he regarded his brother with those black eyes and bowed.
"Come on," Dean said with that voice that hissed and roared even though it was still just Dean's voice, "We have work to do, little brother."
As Dean spoke, his eyes slowly regained their irises, a color appearing against the black. It was red. Red on black.
Sam almost screamed as he opened his eyes—his real eyes this time. His breathing was sharp and his pulse racing. Before he could contain himself his panic reached a pinnacle he had never before felt and he looked frantically around him, fearing with some awful horror that he would find bodies. There were bodies, but they were the beautiful sleeping bodies of two blonde women—well, succubae—who were snuggled in around him on either side of him in the bed.
Slowly, the panic eased away as Sam realized he had only been dreaming. He checked Epica anyway, the covers low enough on her to reveal her arms that were smooth and unmarred by burns. He looked to Attoinette too just to be safe, but she was equally unharmed. He noticed then since she was on her stomach, her head on his chest and an arm thrown over him so that her hand rested on top of her sister's, that she had a none-natural tattoo too. Other than her markings, like how Epica had that little blue star, Attoinette had a large tree that spanned almost her entire back. It started at the beltline and rose up like the Tree of Life, the branches eventually fading to the marking of her wings.
For a moment Sam just laid there, holding the women close against him while they slept, feeling their warmth and the life pulsing in them so strongly. He could feel it, the energy they had fed off from him that was surging through their veins now. In them he knew it was benign but in himself he wasn't so sure anymore.
Oh god, he thought, choking on fear he had so foolishly forgotten, he wasn't sure of anything.
THE END...unless I do another Sam POV sometimes.
A/N: There you are Ann, my dear. Short, but just a bonus. Wow, did Sam surprise me with alot of that. Thoughts, comments? New REAL chapter up soon, begining the morning after. Love you all!
And for the record not only is this the only het I've ever written other than the previous Ellen scene, this is also the only threesome. Phew. Excuse me while I drag my honey into the shower...
Crim
