Twisted Love

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, but I do own Johnny, Kit, their parents, Jack Foel, and Newbridge Falls.

Author's Note: Beta'd by mysterichic. Big thank you's to you for making sure this was alright to be posted.

Review Answers:

Spuffyshipper – Glad you liked it. He likes women as well as men, and he's a little out of practice with men. At least, that's how it is in this story. Wow, now I'm even more determined to write those stories, lol. Eye of the Storm, Arrival and Something More are all in the works (how long it'll take them to get it out of them, well, that's another story), so keep an eye out.

talon81 – Good, good, the compliments keep the writing coming. This soon enough for you?

puplover77 – I'm not going to be able to fit my head through the door if everyone keeps complimenting my work like this, lol. I'm happy you think so well of this story. In answer to your other question, well, I've started writing chapter one. Who knows, I might get lucky and have it up soon.

JRAismine – Good to hear it. And I know what you mean… I certainly prefer OMC's over OFC's. Trouble is, there's only three or four others on the site (and the two Sam ones I find were supposedly really dark, so I didn't even read them). Partly why I was so determined to write this one.

Fractured Dreams – Ah, yes, the date. It'll be in this chapter, let me know what you think of it. I guess you'll just have to read on and find out.

Rose of No Man's Land – I like you. You keep giving me long reviews that I enjoy reading, lol. Yes, a date between my favourite character and my fictional character. Is it pathetic to be jealous of a non-existent person I've created, lol? Yes, she is a little scattered… And I was trying to make their parents as, well… un-parent-like as possible. Creeping out the readers counts as un-parent-like in my book, thank you for making me a success. I'm glad you're so pleased with my writing. If you'll just scroll down a little ways now, you can have more of it.

Rosalene – Hmmm, didn't think of that, lol. But technically, it's the other way around; Johnny's the one who's attracted to Sam. But I'll keep that in mind, they do seem to have a tendency to lay blame at the feet of others' for their children's faults.


Chapter 4: Dreams and Dates

When it came to demons and spirits and the like, and seemed there was no better place to research then the Newbridge Falls' Library. Sam had found more information on succubae and incubi since he arrived there then he had in the last eighteen years.

And the more he learned, the more convinced he became it was a succubus that was killing all these men. Not that he needed much convincing to begin with.

He gave a startled jerk when he heard his mobile go off, shattering the silence of the old library. He received a few disapproving looks from some of the others readers, which prompted him to answer his phone before they got out the torches and pitchforks.

"You trying to get me killed?" Sam demanded.

"Huh?" Was Dean's intelligent response.

"Many of my fellow readers now have murder in their eyes… so does the librarian." He shivered and turned his back to them (maybe not the smartest thing to do if his joke turned out to be the truth). "What do you want?" He asked.

"Guess who's got a date tonight." Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean, we've been in town less then twenty-four hours and you've already sweet-talked some poor idiotic girl into having sex with-"

"No, dumbass," Dean said, cutting of Sam's accusations. "You, remember? Johnny, six-foot-one, blond hair, wears lots of flannel shirts. You know, the guy who blurted out that you were cute."

"Oh." Sam said, falling back into his seat.

"And listen, I think it might be a good idea to keep him away from any… suspicious females tonight." Dean said. "If the patterns follow, then tonight's the night when the succubus is going to kill again. And I don't think we want Johnny to be added to her list of victims, do we?"

"No." Sam said neutrally, still in shock from the whole date concept. Time to ask the question he'd been dreading since Dean had suggested he go out with Johnny. "Where do I meet him?" He asked. His lack of enthusiasm must've seeped into his voice, because the next thing he knew,

"Jeez, Sam, it's a date, not a funeral. Try to sound excited." He said.

"Yeah, okay, whatever." Sam said. "Hey, I found out a lot about succubae. Did you know that there a different types of them. Like, there are the normal ones, the ones Dad taught us about. But there are also people who willingly forsake their human soul to a demon and can become a succubus. And there are some that are sired by-"

"Wait, sired? What, you mean like a vampire?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, something like that." Sam said. "Let's hope this isn't the case though; it says that a succubus can only be sired if it's already been… well, you know." Sam said.

"Sam, we're not kids anymore, we're allowed to talk about sex." Dean said.

"Yeah, well, you're missing the point." Sam said. "If that's the case, that would mean that succubus you and Dad killed probably had a mate."

"So that would mean an incubus and a succubus to kill."

"Exactly." Sam said.

"Okay, then let's just keep our fingers crossed and hope that it's just another succubus that's moved in on someone else's turf." Dean said. "I'll be there in ten to pick you up. Then we can take you back to the motel and get you all dressed up for your date."

"Bite me." Sam said, and then cut the connection before Dean could respond. He slipped the mobile back into his pocket and looked over his shoulder. Everyone who had been giving him filthy looks when he'd first answered the phone were now acting like he wasn't there at all. He wasn't sure if he should count that as a blessing or an insult.

He returned the books to the proper place, and then exited the library to wait for Dean. He was not disappointed as about five minutes later, Dean arrived, looking more then a little pleased with himself.

"Did I miss something?" Sam asked. Dean just continued to grin.

"Get in." He said. Sam figured he wasn't going to be getting any answers out of his brother, so he just walked around to the passenger door and climbed in.


They drove back to the motel in silence, and Dean waited until they got in to pump Sam for everything he'd learned on succubae during his time at the library.

"Well, our theory on how to kill them is more or less in tact." Sam said. "There is another way to kill a succubus, but I recommend sticking with the flaming death idea."

"Why?" Dean asked as he started to undress. In front of Sam. Not a care in the world. He made sure the curtains were closed, but he didn't seem bothered with his brother seeing his naked body. The younger Winchester tried to ignore his brother's lack of modesty and continued his explanation.

"Because, the other way involves depriving the succubus of any intimate contact whatsoever for several weeks," he explained, "She will, and I quote, 'eventually go mad before burning up completely'. I say we skip madness and go straight for the burning- oh god, Dean, take it into the bathroom!" He said.

Dean looked at his brother, and then suddenly became aware that he had almost stripped down to nothing. As much as he wasn't bothered with his brother seeing him naked (it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other when they were younger), he'd forgotten that Sam felt a lot different about personal modesty since going away to college. So he acquiesced to his brother's wished and picked up his change of clothes and went into the bathroom before he finished undressing, and then got in the shower.

Sam was just trying to figure out what to wear when he went out to meet Johnny. So what if he was reluctant to go out with the younger man. He could at least put in the effort to look presentable. He was just laying some clothes out on the bed when he heard the shower start, and turned a confused look in the direction of the bathroom.

"Hey Dean, didn't you have a shower this morning?" He called. No answer. "Dean?" He called again, walking over to the bathroom door.

"Sam, get in here!" His brother's voice was urgent, and Sam kicked the door open when he realized Dean had locked it.

"Dean?" He said softly. The room was filled with a thick layer of steam that made it difficult to see (how so much steam had accumulated in such a short amount of time, Sam hadn't even begun to wonder).

"Sam…" That wasn't Dean's voice. "Don't be afraid." The voice was calming. Soothing. Sam felt himself relaxing, his body acting on it's own as he moved slowly towards the shower.

"Sam!" His eyes snapped open and he sat up straight, looking around. He took in a long, shaky breath when he realized Dean had just parked the car in the motel parking lot. He looked over and saw his brother was watching him with a concerned look his face.

"You okay?" Dean asked. "Was it a… uh…?"

"No." Sam said, saving his brother the problem of admitting that Sam was having visions. "Just a dream… I guess I still haven't caught up on the sleep I missed when we were waiting up for the shtriga." He said with a shrug. Dean was by no means convinced, but he decided to let it go for now. Sam had his secrets that needed to be kept, just like Dean did.

"So, would you like to tell me what it is you learned about succubae this morning?" Dean asked. Sam looked over his shoulder, bit his lip, and shook his head.

"Later, I need to… uh… I need to take a shower." He said. Dean gave him a questioning look, but he just shrugged. With a sigh of resignation, Dean nodded. It wasn't like Sam actually needed his brother's permission to take a shower. He just wouldn't enjoy scolding his skin with the hot water as much if his brother was badgering him with questions through the bathroom door (or worse, from actually inside the bathroom).

He breathed a sigh of relief as the remnants of the dream were washed away by the hot water, feeling a strange sense of pleasure from the near-scolding water against his skin. And a slight feeling of light-headedness as well.

That feeling was shattered when he felt arms snaking beneath his own to wrap around his chest. He spun around, and saw nothing. His gaze darted around the inside of the shower, like someone could somehow avoid being seen by him in the enclosed space.

Feeling a lot less relaxed then he had seconds earlier, Sam cut his shower short, climbing out and pulling a towel from the rack, pulling it around his shoulders as he shivered, not just from the cold, but from the slightly unfounded feeling that there was someone else in the bathroom with him. He gave himself a shake. He was being foolish, that's what John would say. That's probably what Dean would say as well. He dried himself off, and then pulled on a green hooded sweater over plain grey shirt, and then a pair of old jeans.

He walked out of the bathroom and saw Dean scrutinizing something he'd laid out on the bed, and Sam walked up behind him and glanced at it.

It turned out to be a medium-sized piece of canvass, with a portrait of Dean painted on it. The likeness was uncanny, almost as if someone had taken a photo and then touched it up to make it look painted.

"Who's the artist?" He asked, and caught Deans' elbow as it came back to deliver a crippling blow to his gut. It was a reflex the older Winchester had had since he was twelve and a bunch of seventh graders crept up behind him on Halloween. "Chill, dude, it's me." Sam said. Dean glanced over his shoulder and scowled, pulling his arm out of Sam's grip.

"Sam, you no better then to sneak up on me like that." He growled, and then turned back to the portrait, and Sam suddenly wondered if his brother was trying to find something wrong with it.

"I repeat: Who's the artist?" He said.

"Johnny's sister." Dean said. Sam nodded, and turned away, walking over to the kitchen part of the room where he set about fixing himself some coffee to try and make ignoring the fact that he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in two days now. It was nothing new to him, but it never got easier. If anything, the more he skipped out on sleeping, the harder it was the next time. "The girl has talent, I'll give her that much." Dean continued, still trying to find something wrong with the painting. Sam nodded absently as he began to scoop the coffee out of the jar. He grimaced suddenly when he felt a familiar throbbing at his temples.

He dropped the spoon, not really hearing it clatter against the floor. He groaned, and with a sharp intake of breath, pushed himself back from the bench to avoid cracking his skull on it when he inevitably fell to his knees, his fingers digging into his temples, like he was trying to drill the pain out.

Dean had spun around at the sound of the spoon hitting the floor, just in time to see Sam crashing to the floor a little way back from the bench.

"Sam!" He cried, rushing to his brother's side. Sam didn't see him. His hands fell from his temples, pressing flat against the floor, and with a cry of pain, a blinding white light filled the younger Winchester's vision.

It moved as if it wasn't there. No one would see it. No one would remember it… Quiet and quick as death it moved about the small, dank room, towards the bed at the very back… Johnny fell back against the bed, head lying on the pillows, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the figure standing over him…

"Argh!" Sam cried out in pain as he fell backwards. Dean was there and ready, catching Sam before the younger man cracked his head against the end of the bed behind him. He helped Sam to his feet and then to the bed where the younger Winchester sat down, rubbing his temples again.

"Was it a…?" Dean let the question hang. Sam nodded, still grimacing in pain. "What… what did you see?" He asked.

"Uh… I'm… I'm not exactly sure. Flashes, mostly. There was something… dark. And sad, I think." He tried to remember. "And Johnny!" He exclaimed. "I think it- the thing I saw- I think it was attacking him." He looked helplessly at Dean. The older Winchester frowned, getting to his feet, biting his lower lip as he tried to think what to make of it. As much as he disliked planning his hunts via a supernatural tip, if Johnny was going to be attacked…

"Okay, we stake him out, and when it shows up to… no, wait, better idea, you don't leave his side." He said.

"What?" Sam asked, his mind still too scattered to make sense of what his brother was talking about.

"Tonight." Dean said. "You're going to meet him at the restaurant, and you're going to make sure he's not alone in a room until the night is over." Sam blinked.

"You still want me to go on a date when something could possibly kill again tonight?" He asked in disbelief.

"Normally, no." Dean said, and Sam became aware of just how serious Dean had become. "But the fact that the victim happens to be your date kind of makes it fit." He said, and it was obvious Sam had no chance at arguing. The younger man sighed in resignation and got to his feet. "Sam, I repeat, you're going on a date, not your brother's funeral." Hecould've kicked himself for saying it that way. Sam had not been too fond of his death jokes since his brush with death a couple of months earlier, and it was still painfully obvious his brother had not quite gotten over it yet.

With a sigh, Sam got his feet. Dean was right; it wasn't so bad, going out on a date. Only, he hadn't been on anything that could be classified as a date since before Jess had died. Because he'd been afraid to. Afraid of what might happen if he showed interest in anyone.

Truth be told, he still was.


Dean had told Sam that Johnny was expecting him at the restaurant. What Sam didn't understand was why he didn't just meet Johnny at the motel main office, considering he worked there. But Dean had insisted that it be a proper date with them meeting at the restaurant, even though Sam argued a proper date would have Johnny picking him up (since Johnny was the one who made the first move).

So there he was, standing out the front of the restaurant, doing up the front of his jacket in an attempt to keep out the cold wind that had suddenly picked up. A moment later, he pulled the hood of his sweater up over his head, shocked by the intensity of the cold, and coming to the decision that if Johnny didn't get there within the next ten minutes, he was going back to the motel, succubus or no succubus.

As it was, Dean didn't have to be disappointed in him, because Johnny chose that moment to walk up to him. He was wearing a pair of warm black trousers and a blue quilted shirt, having anticipated the change in temperature. Sam gave him a good-natured grin, which Johnny returned whole-heartedly.

"I'm glad you came." Johnny said. "I was worried you might think it too, er, strange, that I told your brother that, er…" His cheeks flushed, and Sam couldn't suppress a grin. The younger man was acting just like he had on his first date. Sam suddenly wondered if this was Johnny's first date. It seemed unlikely; he was an attractive young man, Sam was sure he'd have had plenty of offers in high school.

"Why don't we go in?" Sam suggested. Johnny's smile returned and he nodded. He walked ahead of Sam so that he could hold the door open for him, and Sam's grin got wider as he began to question his reluctance to get back into dating. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

They found a table (Johnny wanted one near the back of the restaurant, so that they could have some privacy), and ordered their meal, and then sat in awkward silence for a few minutes while waiting for it to arrive. Finally, Sam could stand it no longer and asked the first thing that popped into his head.

"Do you really think I'm cute?" He asked. Johnny's blush reached his ears this time and he looked like he wanted to just melt into the chair. He gave a stiff nod, and, feeling a little sorry for the guy, Sam smiled at him.

"Nobody's called me cute since ninth grade." He said, and Johnny frowned, obviously not sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or worse. He seemed to take the smile as a confirmation Sam was trying to lessen his embarrassment, and returned it.

"I… er, I haven't said that to anybody, or about anybody." Johnny said. Sam blinked surprised. He thought girls… guys, he corrected, would be lining up to go out with Johnny. Well, then again, just because he hadn't called anyone cute didn't necessarily mean he hadn't been out on a date.

More awkward silence followed. Sam wondered what was taking their dinner so long. This time it was Johnny who broke the silence.

"Did you want to… do this?" He asked. "Like, did you actually want to… have dinner with me, or… it's just, the way Dean told me… it didn't seem like he gave you… well, I just had to ask." Sam would've smiled at Johnny's inability to finish a sentence if the question hadn't immediately set him thinking on what to say. The seriousness seemed to leak into his facial expression, because Johnny shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked a little worried.

With a deep breath, Sam decided on the truth. "No." He said simply. "I didn't want to go out with you." Johnny's head sagged forward in a cross between a nod of acceptance and resignation. "You see, a few months ago, I… lost someone, and… we were close." He bit his lip. Johnny was looking at him now, and he wasn't sure if he should continue. "I haven't really… well, wanted to go out with anybody since her."

"Her?" Johnny asked. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I haven't dated men since I… let's see… I was sixteen the last time I even thought about another guy that way." He said. "Don't get me wrong, I can go both ways, but…" He trailed off, not really wanting to finish that sentence. He was saved the awkwardness of avoiding it by the timely arrival of their dinner. He glanced at Johnny, who still seemed a little on edge. Sam gave a small sigh. "Okay, it's true that when Dean first told me you thought I was cute, I didn't even want to think about it. And, yes, I was reluctant to even come here tonight…" Johnny looked down at his plate. "Hey." Sam said, reaching over and tilting the younger man's chin up so that he was looking him in the eyes. "I honestly don't know what to expect to come out of this, or that anything will come out of it, but I am happy to be here." He smiled. "I'm happy to be here with you." Johnny looked doubtful for a minute, and then the beginnings of a smile started at the corner of his lips.

They ate their dinner in silence, though it wasn't as awkward as it had been. When dinner was finished, they discussed various subjects, including the differences between dating guys and girls, how annoying older siblings could be, whether they were guy or girl. Try as he might, though, Sam couldn't bring himself to spoil the evening by asking Johnny what he knew about the deaths that had plagued the town as of late. Despite his original misgivings about the dinner, he found he was actually enjoying sharing the company of another man who wasn't his brother (though he was still having a hard time thinking of Johnny as a man; he still looked awfully boyish).

By the time dessert came, Sam was really starting to enjoy himself, really happy for the first time since Jess had died (not counting those brief moments with Lori back in Iowa).

When they finally had to leave the restaurant (it was closing up early that night, of all night), Sam and Johnny walked back to the motel room. Sam insisted they go back there for two reasons: one, because as long as he was near Johnny, the younger man stood some chance of not coming up against the succubus, and two, he was really beginning to enjoy being with Johnny.

When they got back to the motel, Sam was relieved to see Dean had vacated the premises. He and Johnny talked some more, the subjects getting more and more random as time passed. At ten thirty, however, Johnny started to get uneasy, and at quarter to eleven he said he had to go or his mother would start getting worried.

Sam walked Johnny out to his car, and the younger man was just about to open the driver door when he stopped, and turned to face Sam. "Can I kiss you?" He asked tentatively. Sam blinked, surprised. Most people, if they wanted to kiss him, just didn't. They didn't ask. Maybe he really was Johnny's first date.

Johnny seemed to misinterpret Sam's silence for rejection, because he once again looked terribly embarrassed and, this time, a little hurt. He turned around to get into his car, but Sam broke through his surprise and reached out, seizing the younger man by the arm. Johnny turned back to look at him and Sam planted his lips on Johnny's, wrapping one arm around the younger man's waist, and placing the other hand on the back of his head.


When they finally parted, it became obvious that that one kiss had opened a door that neither of them was in any hurry to close again. Taking Johnny by the hand (and feeling like he was fifteen again) he led him back into the motel room, locking the door behind them.

They took it slowly, first shedding their jackets and shirts, helping each other, lips brushing every so often. Then they removed their pants, which took just as long, especially considering their lips didn't have to part to do it, so they kept becoming distracted.

One thing about their kiss, the way they were holding each other, even the way they were undressing each other; there was nothing sexual about it, no heat or fiery passion. It was intimacy in its simplest form, and beautiful in its simplicity for both of them. It was like the warmth of the sun without the burn or glare.

It became clear that, despite his earlier attempt at departure, Johnny had no intention of leaving.

When they were finally completely naked, Sam guided Johnny to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed in. Johnny joined him, and Sam wrapped his arms around him, kissing him gently on the lips, and then moving, caressing the side of his neck, his shoulder, while Johnny's hands brushed Sam's back and the back of his head and neck, carefully, lovingly.

When their love finally came to a slow close again, Sam pulled Johnny into a one-armed, sidelong hug, letting him rest his head on Sam's shoulder as he drifted off into an easy-going sleep, a small smile on his lips.

Sam had a smile of his own as he pulled the blankets tighter around their naked bodies; if he'd known how cold it got, he would've taken blankets form the bed Dean would've been sleeping in, if he was there. As it was, he hadn't been thinking very far ahead that afternoon, and he was much too comfortable with Johnny sleeping against him to try and get some now. So he settled for pulling the younger man closer and snuggling up against him, with the blanket held tightly around them. His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was of how unbelievably quick he had fallen for the young man held against his body.


A/N: Okay, I have finally managed to finish Chapter 4. I wanted to have a little more descriptive… er… lacking the right word, but I wanted to spend a little more time between Sam and Johnny being undressed and Sam and Johnny falling asleep, if you know what I mean. But I found myself completely unable towrite a halfway betweenlove and sex. That, and I didn't want to tarnish the intimacy with sexual heat. Hope its okay. Please review and let me know, it'll make me a very happy writer and might speed up the updates. Emphasis on might, though.