The Winchester brothers sat on the couch in Bobby's living room watching with wide-eyed grins as the old man danced around with Ellen as Redbone's 'Come and Get Your Love' played on the radio. Sam jumped up from the couch swaying his hips to the beat as he reached out a hand to his older brother. "Oh, no! No, no." Dean chuckled out his protest. Sam summoned him forward with a finger as he mouthed the lyrics of the chorus. Dean rose from his seat to join them thinking, what the hell.
Ellen and Bobby were currently doing a rendition of the jitterbug, while Sam was doing the hand jive. Ellen and Sam let out a "Woo-hoo!" as Dean moonwalked in front of Sam finishing his entrance with a perfect impression of the Elvis leg swing move. They all laughed together as they settled on doing the twist. The boys smiled warmly at each other sharing small touches as they moved. Dean gave a confident smirk as he busted out the James Brown shuffle. Sam laughed heartily before showing his brother up by doing a perfect cat daddy.
Dean froze as he watched Sam drop low then bounce back up to make the wheelchair motion of the dance. Unaware that he wore a look that read 'What the fuck?'. Sam shyly ran his fingers through his hair, face tipped down, eyes rising to meet Dean. "I uh…learned that in college," he said with slight embarrassment. Bobby and Ellen laughed as the radio transitioned into Sam Cooke's 'Bring It On Home To Me'. Sam placed himself in Dean's arms, gently swaying to-and-fro. Dean shifted nervously on his feet as the older couple came together in a slow-motion spin. Sam sighed heavily Dean didn't slow dance, ever.
Sam pulled Dean by the hand towards the stairs, Dean's hands on his hips as they moved. Bobby turned to see them. "Balls," he said with a sigh. Ellen laughed, reaching over to turn the volume dial up. Once they reached the top Sam could barely keep his hands off of Dean. Already making fast work of his belt. His hands moved to pull Dean's fitted black t-shirt up. His actions halted by Dean gripping his wrist, pressing Sam against the wall. "Easy baby boy, let's get in the bedroom first." Dean cooed, nuzzling against Sam's neck. They're lips locked as Sam stepped back towards the door, pulling Dean with him by the fabric of his shirt.
Sam's kiss was full of hungry heat. Dean groaned deep in his throat as Sam's tongue slid past his lips, demanding entry. The sound of the doorknob turning seemed loud as Dean was pulled into the room to be shoved down onto his back on the bed. He couldn't help but wonder if his little brother's sudden aggressiveness was a side effect of drinking the blood. "You will crave your brother much more violently than you do now," Regina's voice echoed in his head, "Let Dean help you…curb your appetites." It'd been just over a month since the first time Sam had drunk demon blood. He'd ingest a small amount every day, but nothing had seemed to happen yet. No visions, no new powers.
Was Sam's sudden eagerness for sex the first sign that it was affecting him? Dean buried his thoughts as Sam began pulling the zipper of his jeans down, yanking them off along with his boxer briefs to let them fall to the floor before straddling his hips. It wasn't like Sam had never initiated sex before. He was a man. Men have needs. Sam's lips were wrapped around the head of Dean's erection, bringing about the end of conscious thought. Dean tipped his head back into the pillow beneath him. Neck arching as his jaw dropped open, allowing primal moans to escape his throat. His fingers were fisting in Sam's shaggy mane to urge Sam's head into a bobbing movement.
Sam's hands splayed out over Dean's thighs. Fingers were digging into the flesh, kneading it as he allowed Dean to take control. Soft hungry little moans escaping his full mouth as Dean's grip tightened, focused on keeping up his smooth, steady rhythm until Sam's nails were digging in as Dean gently, thrust up into the heat of Sam's mouth, cumming down his throat. Deep lustful evergreen eyes gazed down at Sam's tongue flicking around the head for the last pearls of cum. He leaned up, placing Sam's chin in his palm to pull his little brother up onto his lap. They kissed feverishly as Dean's hands ghosted Sam's shirt up his frame, dropping it to the floor before moving to the button of Sam's jeans.
A ripping sound could be heard over Sam's impatient whimpers as he tore Dean's t-shirt open. Dean hissed loudly as Sam's nails dug into the meat of his back, dragging down to leave whelps in their wake. "Whoa, easy tiger." Dean cooed sweetly against Sam's lips with a grin. Sam shoved Dean back into the mattress as he shimmied out of his jeans and underwear. Dean had barely shaken out of the remnants of his shirt before Sam was back on him, once again sucking him off with vigor. "Fuck Sammy, slow down." Dean pleaded as he pulled his brother up to attempt a gentle kiss. What he got was Sam biting his lip harshly. There was a slight pop sound followed by a sharp sting of pain and Sam was moaning loudly.
Dean shoved him back his worried eyes searched Sam's own as a trickle of blood ran down from his bottom lip. Sam's stare was sensual yet ominous. It felt as if he were daring Dean to question him. A moment passed where they just stared at each other. Sam leaned forward, eyes on Dean's lips. Dean dipped back avoiding Sam. Sam leaned forward again, gripping the back of Dean's head to hold him in place. He pressed their lips together, sucking Dean's bottom lip in between his own. Pulling Dean's blood into his mouth with sounds of urgent need. They struggled against each other. Dean was trying to pull away, Sam holding him in place while pressing their erections together, grinding against Dean.
Dean flipped them over, pinning Sam beneath him. Wiping the red smear from his lip as Sam licked it from his own. "Fuck me De." Sam sighed out, stroking his erection. He leaned up to lap up the last drop of coppery red from Dean's lip.
Dean shoved him down harshly into the mattress. "Sam, stop!" Worry ate away at Dean. God knows Sam could seduce him into doing all manner of filthy things to him that Dean was pretty sure were illegal in most states. Sam was usually eager to take Dean's tough love, as it was, with no complaint.
But, the way he tried to take control so aggressively was unsettling for Dean. Then there was the blood thing. Dean was far from squeamish, yet the act had left a sort of sickness in his stomach he desperately wanted to shake off. Bringing forth the image of Sam riding him with Dean's bleeding wrist pressed to his lips. His own voice alien to him as the most maliciously evil laughter burst out of his toothy grin as he lay in the wet sticky redness that marred the sheets beneath him.
As Dean shook off the sickening memory, they fought to overpower each other. Sam bucked beneath Dean trying to overtake him. Dean pressed into Sam, pinning his hands above his head. "Stop!" Dean's voice boomed, laced with commanded warning. Hazel eyes searched emerald finding fearful uncertainty. Sam rolled over onto his stomach. He pressed his cheek into the pillow as he arched his hips up so that Dean's hardness would slip between his plump ass cheeks. Dean groaned loudly. He leaned down placing gentle kisses on the middle of Sam's back before trailing his tongue down.
Licking a strip down the dip of Sam's frame stopping just above the cleft at the top of Sam's cheeks. "Fuck De, quit being such a pussy. Just fuck me already." Sam snapped. Dean reached over to the nightstand to fumble for the bottle of lube. Finding it, he squirted some out into his palm.
"Spread em, show me that little fuck hole," Dean growled out as he roughly ripped his hands away from where they had Sam's pinned above him. Sam obeyed, his hands sliding down the sheets before moving to grip each of his cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing his entrance. His actions were obedient, yet the eyes watching Dean over his shoulder were rebellious.
Dean had wanted to take his time, tease Sam with some foreplay. Now he wanted to punish him for calling him a pussy. Dean slicked up his length with the lube in his palm before squeezing a large glob out onto the tip of his thumb. He rubbed the digit around the hole before pushing it in to the knuckle, earning a gasp from Sam. Thrusting it in then out a few times. Just enough to work the viscous liquid inside before pulling it out then ramming his hard cock inside to the hilt.
Sam cried out at the sudden harsh penetration dropping his hands down as Dean pulled him up, so he was on widespread knees. Dean leaned over him as he gripped Sam's hands, linking their fingers together before pinning them on either side of Sam's head. "Now, fuck yourself on big brother's dick," Dean ordered.
Sam panted, forehead pressed against the mattress. "Give me a sec…need to adjust," Sam panted out.
Dean bit the back of his neck hard, causing Sam to wince. "I said fuck yourself, now!" Dean barked back.
Sam's hips began to rotate. His chest was dipping down against the mattress as he slid up, back arching beautifully. Shoulders rose as his hips rounded in a full circle to slide back down onto Dean, while he whimpered little cries of pleasure at the overwhelming feeling of harsh penetration.
The veins of Dean's arms bulged as he squeezed Sam's hands in his own with a vice-like grip. Moaning out his satisfaction as he leaned up to watch Sam's opening consume his hard length. "Fuck Sammy. Damn baby boy you feel so fucking good. Mmmph, wish you could see the way your tight little hole is all stretched around my cock. Fuck! So fuckin pink." The achingly slow way Sam was grinding himself up then down on Dean's length was quickly becoming not enough. He hadn't wanted it rough, but Dean was quickly getting into it. Dean roughly gripped Sam's hips to hold him in place, halting his movements, so he was buried balls deep inside Sam. Sam whined with need as Dean remained motionless. The older Winchester smirking when Sam began to wiggle in an attempt to move even just a little bit.
With a sharp snap of his hips, Dean pounded roughly into Sam. The action caused Sam's knees to give out sending them crashing down onto the mattress. "Fuck De," Sam groaned out, earning a seductive chuckle from Dean.
"Too much Sammy? Thought you wanted me to fuck-Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Sam was inching towards the headboard in a feeble attempt to gain his footing. Dean was refusing him a moment of reprieve; demanding Sam feel every moment, hear every sound the two made. Forcing down his feelings of worry, anger, and the fear that Sam would forget the feel of him. That one day he'd lose the memory of his smell, the sound of his voice, the thrill of his love. Dean was letting go by literally pounding out his worry into Sam. Transforming the panic-inducing fear into an ecstasy they both feel.
Summoning strength from some unknown place deep inside Sam turned the tables. He broke away from Dean's grip, flipping around to face him. Straitening his back to kneel before Dean, his hazel gaze boring down into his brother's eyes. Sam then lifted himself to straddle Dean placing himself in Dean's lap, lowering himself down to once again bury Dean's hardness deep inside him. Dean was letting out a loud guttural sound while wrapping one arm around the small of Sam's back as the younger man arched up onto the pads of his feet to begin riding Dean. Making sweet slow rises then torturous hard strokes down. Sam linked his hands behind Dean's neck, his fingertips sending pleasant sensations to his brain at the feel of the soft prickles of recently buzzed hair follicles.
Teeth were pressed into the tender flesh of Dean's neck, marring it with imprints that would bruise later. Dean hissed from the sensual pain. Their lips were meeting in a desperate carnal mess of teeth and tongues. Dean's free hand was reaching between them. Fingertips were snaking slowly down the ridges of Sam's abs, a single digit ghosting up the length of Sam's shaft before fisting around the throbbing organ to begin pumping in time with the rise and fall of Sam's hips. Making Sam moan gravelly. Dean leaned into Sam's throat, nuzzling against it. The feeling of Dean's five-o'clock shadow scratching against the soft skin sending a shiver coursing through Sam's body. When Dean's teeth sank into the skin, the sharp bite sent Sam over the edge. Cumming hard into Dean's hand.
Sam was still shaking from the aftershocks when his body went limp, settling into Dean's frame. Dean was raising his cum covered hand to his lips, the tip of his tongue darting out to lap the white viscous substance. Sam leaned in, his tongue licking cum from Dean's hand before the two pairs of lips met in a mix of tongues, cum, and husky groans. Dean leaned forward to lay Sam on his back. His hands were hooking behind Sam's knees, pushing them forward to arch Sam's hips at just the right angle to reach his prostate. Sam was whimpering as Dean loomed over him with a pleased smirk. "Fuck De...you're so beautiful." Sam panted out the words. Dean dipped forward with his hips, making Sam's head fall back, and his hands grip the sheets.
When Dean came, he would later swear the earth shook, if anyone were to ask him. Sam had writhed, bucked, and cried out beneath him so beautifully. He'd left hickeys, teeth marks so deep they were already growing a blackish purple on Dean's broad shoulders and neck, along with red whelps and fresh cuts from his nails down Dean's back. The feeling of warm cum bursting forth inside Sam was like feeling your soul leave your body. Dean's eyes were closed. His chest heaving from exhaustion. A bead of sweat on the tip of his nose ready to fall at any second. Sam licked the salty wet up before placing gentle kisses all over Dean's face. Dean pulled out of Sam before gently laying down in his arms to drift into a peaceful sleep.
Sam sat in the desk chair in the corner of their bedroom watching Dean in peaceful slumber. A full-bellied hunters moon was shining through the windows giving the room a soft orange luminous glow. He gently tilted the glass of warm bourbon in his hand making the dark liquid swirl before downing it. Memories raced through his skull. John was grabbing a duffle bag from the counter in a shit motel before turning to a young Dean to say "Lock the doors, the windows, close the shades. And most important-"
Before John could finish Dean chimed in, "Watch out for Sammy."
Dean's shocked face when Sam slammed John's journal down on a nightstand. "Are monsters real?"
Dean was giving a deep sigh replying, "Monsters are real...dad fights them."
Dean was pacing a few feet of a high school football field while Sam sat on the bleachers. "That kid's dead." Dean had spat about a bully that had picked a fight with his little brother.
Sam was pleading with him to leave it alone. "I don't wanna be the freak for once Dean. I wanna be normal." Sam's memory of his own voice was calm. He poured another then another glass, downing them quickly. Eyeing the empty cup with unsatisfied need. His gaze was darting to the half-full canteen on the desk beside him. His hands were sweaty. His mouth dry. He reached for it, hastily unscrewing the cap turning it up to his mouth to take a sip before placing the lid back on then returning it to the desk.
Dean gave a sleepy groan as he rolled over in bed. Sam's eyes locked in Dean's direction. He'd stirred but was still sleeping peacefully. Sam's hands were shaking. The copper taste in his mouth seemed to burn. He reached for the canteen again, unscrewing the cap turning the bottle up then gulping as a large mouthful of Regina's blood poured down his throat. His Adam's apple bobbing as he downed the contents. Shaking the bottle with his tongue stuck out to catch the last drop. The empty canteen hit the floor as Sam's pupils dilated. Everything was somehow just more.
Lights were brighter, his vision clearer, sounds of crickets chirping outside grew louder. His reaction time seemed faster. All the old aches and pains of past hunting injuries seemed to fade. He could practically hear Dean's heart beating. The sound was much slower than the feel of his beating heart under his breast. His cock filling at an alarming rate even though he'd just spent the last few hours with Dean fucking his brains out. He stood to walk over to the bed. Hesitating before reaching out to roll Dean over, wake him, and begin round two. Instead, he turned to the door. Slipping out of the room without a sound.
Dean woke the next morning with a much-needed stretch. He yawned loudly before turning onto his side. His arm was reaching out to wrap around Sam's waist, finding nothing but cold, empty sheets his eyes darted around the room. He was alone. Nothing seemed out of place other than an open bottle of bourbon on the desk, an empty glass on the floor, and the canteen of Regina's blood beside the bottle. Dean gave an anguished sigh. He hated that Sam was drinking that shit. He hated even more that Sam drinking that shit was the only thing stopping a future where Dean murdered his loved ones.
He rose from bed, dressing quickly. Smirking as he pulled on Sam's Stanford University sweats. The too-long article of clothing was bunching up around his ankles. That skinny boy was a damn sasquatch. He fumbled through the dresser where Bobby kept some of their old clothes they would leave behind in the wash when they visited. Finding his former favorite Def Leppard shirt that he had cut the sleeves off of and torn the sides so it looked like one of those old tank tops rock stars used to wear back in the 1980's. Pulling it over his body before padding barefoot across the hallway to the bathroom.
He brushed his teeth, gargled mouthwash, then took a much-needed long piss before practically bounding down the stairs. Stopping at the bottom to run a few fingers through his hair to make sure it had that I woke up like this perfection before walking into the kitchen. Ellen was at the table watching Bobby at the stove. Sam was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Sammy?" He asked. Ellen took in his appearance with a look he didn't quite understand.
"Been outside all morning. That kid must have run five miles by now." Bobby said as he tilted his frying pan to let the bacon he'd been cooking fall onto a plate covered with paper towels.
When he glanced up at Dean, his face wore the same expression as Ellen's. "Damn son. You lose a fight or something? Don't that shit usually go the other way round?" Bobby teased as he placed the plate on the table before Ellen.
"The fuck you talkin bout old man?" Dean said, scratching the back of his head in confusion.
"You skip looking in the mirror this morning boy? Can't blame ya. If I was that ugly, I would too." Bobby said as he turned back to the stove to begin cracking eggs into a large bowl.
Dean was puzzled. He stepped into the hallway to glance into the mirror that hung there. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yelled out. Bobby and Ellen were snickering in the other room. He had fucking hickeys! Like a fucking teenager! And not just hickeys, bite marks too. Full sets of red and purple teeth marks across his neck and shoulders. He spun around, lifting his shirt to find red whelped claw marks scattered across his already scarred back. The few cuts Sam had left weren't deep. They wouldn't scar. Thank god. At least Sam would be as embarrassed as he was. He had bite marks too.
The sound of the front door closing pulled Dean out of his thoughts. He moved back into the kitchen to see Sam taking a seat at the table next to Ellen. Sam had dressed in basketball shorts and a tight tee shirt. Dean scowled at the fact that Sam's neck was unmarred. He was sure he had seen marks there the night before. Dean let his body flop into the chair next to Sam as Bobby placed a bowl full of scrambled eggs on the table before sitting down himself.
Dean lightly slugged Sam on the shoulder. "Look what you did to me you little fucker." He barked playfully.
Sam gave a hearty belly laugh. "Oh, so it's only ok when you do it to me? Jerk." Sam teased.
"Bitch." Dean spat. Sam leaned over to place a sweet passionate kiss on Dean's lips.
"Idjits," Bobby said with a smile, spooning out eggs onto everyone's plates. The Winchester brothers smiled warmly as they chewed their bacon and eggs. Being with Bobby and Ellen was like having a real family. Like having a real mom and dad. It was a comfort they needed more than the air they breathed.
Sam kept letting his fingers run up the length of Dean's thigh under the table. Relishing in the way it made his big brother sit up straight and stiff. Dean was talking with his mouth full. Going on about this one time he'd gotten into a bar fight with some guy twice his size that he ended up only getting two hits in before the guys scorned girlfriend jumped in screaming he cheated on her with someone named Amanda. Sam leaned over to nuzzle Dean's ear as he finished the story. "You look so fucking hot in those sweats De. And that shirt. Makes me wanna drop to my knees and suck you off." Sam whispered so only Dean could hear. Dean was painfully aware of the feeling of Sam's hand ghosting its way up his inner thigh.
Dean sighed in both relief, as well as longing when the sound of a phone ringing ended the contact. The Winchester's both clearing their throats as Bobby rose from the table to pick up the line. "Singer's Auto...oh um...hold on." Bobby held the phone out towards Ellen with a look of sympathy. When she rose to take the line from him, Bobby spoke quietly. "Boys why don't you come outside and help me with this thingy." He said as he walked passed the table into the library towards the front door. Sam took the hint immediately, rising to follow.
Dean still chewing a mouth full of bacon said, "I'm still eating."
"Joanna Beth, you need to come home." Ellen said into the receiver under her breath.
Dean jumped up from the table grabbing a hand full of bacon before mumbling, "Fuck that." Narrowly dodging the auto trader magazine, she launched at him before rushing out the front door after his brother and the old man. Once in the safety of outside, he joined Sam and Bobby on the porch. His eyes were drifting up to his little brother.
Sam's skin was practically glowing. He looked refreshed, well rested and ready to take on anything. Dean had to admit it was a comfort. They'd been here for nearly a week, so he was itching for a hunt. To be back out on the road with Sam. However, he couldn't shake the feeling he had about Sam. Dean himself bore dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He was wearing the marks of staying up all night fucking. Sam didn't. There was the fact that he'd woke up alone in bed for the first time since he could remember. Plus, there was that canteen. So perfectly centered on the desk in their bedroom.
Screaming from inside the kitchen drew him out of his dark thoughts. The three men bound back inside the house with haste. "I'm your mother, and I don't have to be reasonable!" Ellen was screaming at the top of her lungs.
Jo's reply could be heard on the other end of the line, "You can't keep me there! I don't have a home anymore!"
Ellen was gripping the edge of the kitchen counter so hard her knuckles turned white. "You don't wanna come here then fine! Go back to school." She snapped. Jo's incoherent yelling was mixed with sobs. "Getting yourself killed on some dusty back road? That's where you belong?" Ellen replied to whatever Jo had said, fighting back tears of her own.
The line went dead. Ellen hung up the phone gently with trembling fingers. Bobby acted as if to rush to her side, stopping dead in his tracks when she turned to face them. She was beyond angry. Comfort wasn't needed at the moment.
She calmly sat at the table before snapping her fingers, pointing downward to the center of the table. "You two, sit." She commanded at the boys. They rushed over taking seats across from her. Dean was still chewing his handful of bacon when she started to speak. "Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment. Jo says she wasn't the first. Over the past 80 years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. She plans on hunting alone. I can't lose her. Sam, Dean, please. Stop her." She pleaded.
Less than 15 minutes later the boys were throwing their duffels in Baby's trunk before running around to jump inside. Dean threw the Impala into reverse, spinning her around so fast a thick cloud of dust burst out around her before she peeled out to the driveway. It would take nearly 22 hours to get to Philadelphia from Sioux Falls. Dean was sure he could make it in less.