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Deceit

"Slower," Sam commanded.

He leaned the back of his head into the couch. Every ounce of anger, rejection, and bitterness was being pulled down the center of his spine. He relished in the moment. Craved to stay in this land of momentary bliss forever. Sadly, he knew it would only last minutes. This was something he would savor. She was going too fast. He wanted her jaw to ache tomorrow.

His eyes rolled shut. The sight of Diem trying to deep throat him caused every muscle in his body to clench tightly. Crazy how God could make such beautiful lips do such dirty things.

She did as she was told. Her rhythm became a throbbing beat. Her movements were careful and deliberate. Every circle of her tongue was intoxicating. He wheezed out a low moan, grabbing her by the top of her ponytail. Each bob of her head felt like was trying to swallow his soul. He wondered if she thought she could make love with only her mouth.

Then she stopped.

His eyes ripped open and glanced down at the brunette who had settled for using her hand to do a job only a throat could do.

"What?" he asked, unsatisfied with the switch.

"Do you want to leave?" she asked with a smile that made him stiffen.

That had been the her third time asking that night. The first time, was when she had taken off her shirt and releasing her gorgeous breasts from its bra. They had bounced right out, joyful to be free. Even though she had clearly seen how turned on the action had made him, he still denounced her and told her yes.

The second time had been a little more than ten minutes ago. She asked, on her knees, pinning her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, if he was leaving. He was still reserved and declared yes. But when she asked if she could suck his dick, he couldn't help but nod his head, very curtly. That deserved a yes, as well.

Now there they were. Diem had worked her voodoo. Did Sam want to leave? Absolutely. But did he really? Business had to be finished. He couldn't just leave a job half-done.

"I'll stay," he breathed.

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course."

She grabbed his hand and placed it where hers had been.

"Prove it. Stay and let's go back to normal. You jack off, I go shower, and you stay, okay."

He wanted to growl at her to just shut up and go back to work. Instead, he witnessed the sadness behind her eyes. He wasn't that guy. Someone who used girls for sex. They liked each other. He didn't want to use her. His need for her to release him wasn't as strong as his need to protect her.

"Okay," was all he could say. She stood, kissed his forehead, and headed to the bathroom.

"Put some ice on your nose. Get some sleep when you're done. I'm gonna shower and take a walk to clear my mind."

Sam wanted to protest but couldn't. She shouldn't be walking around at night alone with Bub on the loose. And she'd taken a drink! After a year of hard sobriety she had just fallen right back off the wagon. Off the wagon and onto Dean. So she could impress him with her twerking skills or something. Why hadn't Dean stopped her? Was Bub right?

With all the thoughts swirling in his head, he felt the head in his hand soften.

This was all Dean's fault.

...

"He's staying," Diem said, taking a seat beside him on the creaky bed. She shuffled and gazed around the flea bag of a room Dean made his home. The TV still had antennas on it. He doubted he'd be catching the Dr. Sexy marathon.

"How'd you convince him?" His brother was a hard headed rascal. There was only one way that Diem could pull a trick like that off. The image of her seducing Sam and having sex with him seared his retinas.

"Did you have sex with him?"

She winced and smacked her lips.

"Are you trying to imply that the only was he'd stay is if I fucked him."

He stood up. Of course she had. That was low of her. "You're disgusting."

Dean's face scrunched as if he'd taken a lick of lime and vinegar. "That's my brother."

"Yeah, well, that's my boyfriend."

"I thought you weren't dating," he said. The role she played in Sam's life dawned on him. "I thought you were both playing house."

"I don't get how that's your business."

He reflected on what Bub had told them. That they were instantly attracted to each other.

"Do you..." he stammered, searching for a good word as he poured himself a drink, "... find me … appealing to the eye?"

She laughed. "Is this about what Bub said?"

"Yes. Now answer."

Her chocolate eyes scanned him up and down. He was tempted to flex his muscled, but instead he dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

She shrugged. "Sure. You're hot and you have a nice smile."

He grinned, forgetting himself. "Thanks. Chicks really dig the smile."

"What about me?" she asked and just by her light tone he knew she was smiling. "Do you find me attractive?"

He didn't beed to look at her to answer. So he didn't. He downed his shot and pained another. "Yup," he said through the alcohol's burn. Diem was the kinda girl he'd dream of fooling around with on lonely night. Curvy with a little tone. Rough around the edges. You could take her to a burger joint instead of a five-star restaurant. Sure, she'd probably insist on getting tofu instead of a real meat, but that was okay. The laughter, the sparks... it would make it worth it.

Down went the second shot as he relinquished the memory of her ass grinding against him. He could've sworn in that moment that only the two of them existed, and that she wanted him. You like that? was the question those hips were asking, and Dean had a part of his own body that would've answered if Cas hadn't interrupted.

"Okay," Diem said, her hand grabbing his shoulder.

Dean looked to her. "What?"

"You just downed five shots."

He hadn't noticed, but now that she mentioned it, he could suddenly feel that familiar sway in his head.

"Sam and I are dating, Dean, and I like him. Like a lot. I won't jeopardize that."

Dean looked into her eyes. She seemed truthful enough, but he was still a little apprehensive.

"I think you're hot. That's all. Nothing more."

She reached for the tequila bottle, but Dean grabbed ahold of it before she could.

"None for you," he whispered. They held a tug a war with the bottle. He snatched it in his direction and drew her closer to him. "You're supposed to be a sober chick."

"And you care what I am...why?"

Dean thought it over. He had no reason to he be protective, despite not wanting her to drink. The thought that Bub might be right won, and so he handed her the bottle. She took a chug straight from the plastic.

"I can't drink anymore now, because I know where your mouth has been."

"From how you act, your mouth has been there too."

"Whatever." he sneered. "Bub's a liar."

"What do you expect, that's what his kind do. Lie, and murder, and stir up trouble for no good reason," she said, running her hand over the dingy blanket on his bed. "Make this your last night sleeping in this filth. You can stay with me."

"And be forced to hear you and my younger brother fuck? I'll pass."

"Fine, but feel free to cash in the offer once your spine feels like shit against this cardboard mattress. God only knows who's fucked on this."

"You willing to go behind Sam's back just to put a stop to him?" Dean asked. This was a serious thing they were about to do. They were risking Sam's trust. Not only that, they were going against an Angel who they hardly knew how to kill. "You ready for this?"

"Bub is powerful and has to be stopped before we're officially up shit creek." She took a final swig from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "We don't have a choice, partner."

Throwing his arm around her shoulder, he grinned. "Well then rest up, kiddo, tomorrow we've got a case to crack."