ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!
ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!
AU, OOC. Kinda gory the first scene. Sorry, I got a little bloodthirsty. :D
I tried some humor as well, but looks like I'm not always successful... but you tell me that.
Hope you'll like my new character. And he's ALL MINE! :D And I'm not going so easy on him. But you'll see that later.
With the school starting my updates will be less frequent, but I'll try to do it as much as I can.
Alright, enjoy the chapter!
"Azazel!" Dean growled out. Harry just chuckled.
"I'm not him anymore, for a long time now" the boy smirked, drawing out the word 'long'. "Your little brother just fed me more and more, made me strong. You can call me Samuel" the demon's smirk turned into an evil grin at the last sentence. Gritting his teeth, Dean held the yellow gaze that reciprocated his glare with a wild glint in it.
"So?" the demon spoke again, getting bored with the staring contest. "Where's that famous Devil's Trap of yours that doesn't work on me? My guess" the demon pointed upwards, "is the ceiling." With that it looked up and it was right: the huge drawing decorated the ceiling in black.
"How do you know it doesn't work on you?" Dean commented. The demon raised an eyebrow at that then started walking towards the man. It was a little surprised, when Dean didn't even budge, but then it found out why: it stumbled back with a halt. It tried again, but the result was the same. The demon became angry at the smug smirk on Dean's face.
"What the fuck is going on?" the demon snarled as it tried again and again, but to no avail. Sam closed his eyes in pain, hearing the swearword come out of his lover's mouth.
"Look at the drawing closely!" Dean grinned wickedly. The demon obeyed: it noticed the new sign with an enraged cry.
"You're gonna regret this" the demon hissed, but fear glittered in the yellow irises. "And what will you do? Send me back to Hell? There will be another Yellow Eyes!"
"Who said anything about Hell?" Dean interrupted. The demon continued to snarl at the annoying human, but then Sam gasped in horror. The yellow eyes turned to the young man confused, but a tickling feeling flooded its face. Raising a hand to the area, its fingers were greeted by sticky liquid; pulling them away the tips were painted with blood. The demon pinned its angry gaze onto Dean, but everyone could see the growing terror in it.
"Did the cat get your tongue now?" Dean spoke still smirking. "Or more like the kitten?"
"What makes you think this is mine?" the demon growled. Suddenly it gagged hard; more blood splattered onto his hand. As it looked up, it revealed its bloody lips and chin, even a few drops on the T-shirt, and it noticed the thick tome in Dean's hand that was lying open on the man's palm. "What are you doing?" it panted, but another set of gags cut it off. Dean's smile, though, just got wider then he started chanting. The demon's eyes widened at the Latin words.
"You don't know what you're doing!" the demon cried out frightened, but the man ignored it. "If you do it, the boy will die!" it shouted, but to no effect.
"Dean, stop it!" Sam cried out in terror, seeing the dangerous sway of Harry's body as the demon threw up more blood. His brother, however, ignored him. "Enough, Dean, STOP IT!" he screamed and tried to jump up, but strong arms held him down.
"Calm down, Sam!" Bobby hushed him. "Harry and Dean know what they're doing!"
"This is an odd way of suicide, Sammy" the demon struggled out grimacing then fell onto its side with a painful cry, sputtering more blood onto the floor. Dean's voice trembled slightly hearing and seeing the suffering, but he didn't stop.
Shortly he slammed the book shut as he stopped chanting and the demon fell onto its back with a huge force. Everyone watched horrified, as Harry's upper body lifted off of the ground, his spine arching unnaturally, the boy fighting the demon inside him. Suddenly a blinding, silver flash filled the room: the three men quickly turned away. Looking back they were greeted by a terrible sight.
Harry was lying on his back with his arms thrown limply to the side, his widely open eyes pinned to the ceiling in dull green, the blood dribbling down from his parted lips to the ground.
"Oh God" Sam breathed and stumbled to his feet. He carefully stepped to the trap and fell to his knees. However, before he could reach out, Dean quickly embraced him to prevent him doing something he would regret. Both of them prayed silently for a sign of life, since the boy wasn't even breathing: Sam leant his head onto his brother's shoulder, who rested a hand on his locks, holding his head in its place.
After seconds feeling like years passed by, Harry jerked with a huge, deep breath. With shaking limbs he reached his hand above his head: his fingers went through the line of the trap. Sam instantly slid next to him and enclosed his arms around the boy, who returned the hug weakly, burying his fingers into the young man's hair.
Sam carefully lifted the boy into his arms and laid him onto the bed then Bobby brought two glasses: an empty one and one full of water.
"Rinse!" Sam ordered, offering the water. Harry obeyed and spat the reddened liquid into the empty glass. He needed another two or three mouthfuls to clean his mouth of the blood.
"How do you feel?" Harry asked, after some color returned into his cheeks; his green eyes were colored again in emerald by life. Sam just shook his head.
"You and Dean" he said disbelievingly, "you both are worth your money." Harry smiled at that and saw Dean hiding his own. "I don't deserve this much…"
"Shut up!" Harry and Dean interrupted him at the same time. Bobby laughed seeing Sam's sulking face and the others eventually joined the older man. The light of the full moon sank under the windowsill.
As Sam got ready for sleep, Harry stepped into the room with a candle, a saucer and a pair of scissors. Sam watched him interested as the boy placed his things onto the nightstand, getting a piece of thread and the box of matches out of his pocket.
"Can I cut a lock of your hair?" Harry asked shyly, lifting up the scissors and the thread. Sam nodded with confusion and the boy tied the thread around a smaller lock of the man's hair, right in the middle, and then snipped it at an inch above the thread. He put the lock onto the nightstand, put the saucer upside down onto it and then carved something into the candle with magic.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked curiously. As Harry placed the candle onto the saucer, the young man saw the carving: Samuel Winchester.
"This is a smaller Wiccan ritual." Harry answered. "Just lay back and enjoy it!"
The boy got a flask out of the nightstand and poured its contents onto the candle. Picking up the matchbox, he began chanting:
"Samuel Winchester, may you be blessed,
May all good things come to you,
May nothing whatsoever harm you,
May your heart be light,
May your travels be safe,
May your health be good,
May your mind be sound,
May your friendships sustain you,
May your feelings lead you on the right path of your decisions,
May you be blessed in every way."
As Harry spoke, he lit the white candle. Hearing these words Sam was filled with deep serenity and calmness and the aroma of vanilla floating around him dazed him slightly: he closed his eyes in pleasure. As the words stopped, he caught with a half-lidded gaze Harry pinching away the flame of the candle, of which a small part burnt away.
Harry got into the bed and turned off the lamp. Sam lazily embraced the slim waist with a pleasing sigh and pressing a kiss onto the ebony tresses he fell asleep. Harry soon followed him into the land of dreams.
A week passed since the cleansing ritual. Sam was behaving more freely, since the threat of the demon-blood evaporated. Harry did the blessing on every night at the same time, until the candle burnt out completely.
Sam and Dean talked through the conflict between them and the discussion – to Bobby's surprise – went down in a diplomatic way. Sam apologized to his brother for his behavior, while Dean – though he accepted it – exclaimed that he's not willing to let go his brother's ungratefulness yet. At last they came to the decision that they won't push each other away because of this incident, but they need some time to think things through, especially Dean.
Harry and Sam's relationship was forming steadily. Harry gradually let Sam closer, who acted in that way towards the boy. For now they just shared small kisses, but they helped each other playfully to get used to the other.
Meanwhile, Harry and Dean became very good friends. Harry could tell the man some important things, mostly about what had happened in England, because he hadn't had the courage to confess to Sam yet, but later – to Dean's strong encouragement – the boy told Sam those tales, as well. In return, Dean shared some stories from their past life with Sam staying with him as support.
The lovers soon noticed that Dean was observing the developing of their relationship sadly and longingly and they bore it with heavy hearts. Both of them wanted the man to be happy. However, that opportunity came shortly.
"I think it's time to go shopping" Harry exclaimed stepping out of the kitchen. The sunlight of the late April glinted on his glasses, chasing away the storm clouds at last. The brothers found out not too long ago that the boy's sight improved from the hazy vision he once had, because the ministry wizard had repaired his sight every day. Thanks to that, Harry didn't have to constantly wear his glasses.
"Alright, I'm coming with you" Sam stood up from the couch and next to his lover.
"Oh, thank Heavens" Harry sighed dramatically. "At least someone can hold the bags."
"So, that's the only thing I'm good for?" Sam asked with mock-hurt in his voice, but his wide smile ruined his acting.
"Well" Harry shrugged, "if Bigfoot is already tamed…"
Dean laughed hearing the jab, but the pair saw the sadness glinting in his eyes.
"And if it has such muscles" Harry finished his sentence coyly.
"What muscles?" Sam asked in a deep voice, as he wrapped his arms around his lover.
"Oh, what muscles!" Harry grinned, enjoying this little scene, as he smoothed his hand down Sam's shirt that hid a hard, strong chest.
"Hey!" Dean shouted and the pair looked at him. "Get a room!"
"Do you want to come with us?" Harry asked with a sudden idea, leaning his head on Sam's chest.
"Thanks, but I'm not into threesomes" Dean smirked. Harry blushed at the innuendo, while Sam pulled a face at the image. "Me and shopping are two separate worlds. More like, universe!" Dean tried to decline, turning serious.
"Come on!" Harry freed himself from Sam's arms and turning off the TV he pulled Dean up to his feet. "You have to get out of the house. Look what's in your hair!" The boy playfully ruffled the blond spikes of the man. Dean slapped his hand away.
"What?" he asked, arranging his tresses into order.
"Mould!" Harry's answer came so suddenly that it startled Dean and broke surprised laugh out of Sam, who adored the boy in front of him, instantly recognizing the playful kitten in him. Harry then threw Dean's jacket to its owner and began to push him towards the door. "So, I'm not accepting no for an answer, so move it! And besides, you're the only one who gets to drive the Impala, with that unhealthy obsession of yours…"
"Okay, okay, I'm going! Jeez!" Dean cried out a bit scared and quickly hopped into the driver's seat.
"Didn't you eat a little too much sugar by any chance?" Sam spoke still laughing, as they set off.
"That's your thing, Sammy-boy, not mine!" Harry ruffled the young man's locks from the backseat. Sam let out an indignant yelp and hastily arranged his hair.
"You can say that again!" Dean laughed out, but Sam just crossed his arms, sulking at them. "And those times he's practically jumping on the ceiling!"
"Ha-ha, very funny" Sam retorted. "I bet that if someone organized a werewolf hunt, you would run around on the roof!"
"Sam!" Dean chastised his brother. The younger man looked at him confused then catching up he turned towards the backseat.
"It's okay" Harry raised his hand quickly. "I got the joke. I'm not taking any offense." His bright smile proved his words.
The rest of the trip was spent in a slightly tense and awkward silence. Arriving at the mall, Sam and Harry got a trolley and went their way hand-in-hand, while Dean wandered to the opposite direction.
He was in the sweets isle and was organizing a – luckily figurative – drooling session at the M&M's section, when a huge crash echoed among the shelves, coming from the end of the isle. Hurrying towards the sound he was greeted with a remarkable sight: a trolley had knocked over a stack of cereals then it'd hit the stand and fallen onto its side. All of the purchases in it was scattered around the floor, a couple of cans even rolled away from the 'scene of the crime'. On the side of the chaos a shorter person was lying, probably the user of the trolley.
"Are you okay?" Dean hurried to the person's side and helped the guy up, who looked like in his early twenties.
"Yes" the boy grumbled annoyed; Dean had never ever heard a voice so melodious that it was beautifully singing even with anger in it. "I've never managed to control these freaking trolleys."
The boy flipped his dark-blond locks from his face and raised turquoise eyes onto his helper. The sky and grass widened slightly from surprise as they met. Dean unintentionally checked out the other guy.
The boy was a few inches taller than Harry, so he reached Dean's shoulder. The oval-shaped face was hardened by the firm jaw, but his features stayed boyish. Almond-shaped eyes, straight, slightly turned-up nose, thin, pink lips, at least considering the sun-kissed skin. His tresses were short, but not enough to not fall into his eyes. The boy was dressed simply: white T-shirt, blue sweater with white zipper, faded jeans, worn trainers.
As Dean snatched his gaze back up, he just caught as the boy checked him out, too, and blushed deeper and deeper, causing his own to heat up a bit. Finally, he took the initiative: he reached his hand out.
"My name is Dean" he spoke in a gentle voice. The boy's reaction could have fitted in an anime about shyness: the blushed skin under the eyes, lowered gaze and head, wringing hands. Dean noticed then the litheness of the fingers and felt his own face being generously decorated. Then a timid hand grasped his and barely noticeably shook it:
"Kyle Wells."
"Pleasure to meet you" Dean smiled brightly. Kyle had the honor to witness it: he glanced up just in time and involuntarily broke into a small shy smile.
"For me, too" he murmured, still too nervous around the man.
"Would you like me to help get your stuff together?" Dean offered, careful not to scare the boy away.
"Yes, I'd appreciate that" Kyle nodded a little. Dean grinned again; under the mask of coolness his heart was beating so fast from the innocence of the boy that it wanted to jump out through his throat.
They quickly gathered the escaped purchases and Kyle stood the stack of cereals upright. Since a couple of things hadn't survived the fall, it had to be purchased again, so Dean quickly took the opportunity: he pushed the trolley. After some small talks he found out: Kyle has been living alone in a little house far from his parents since he was eighteen, and the little land is in the middle of nowhere, so often listens – to Dean's great joy – to AC/DC, Metallica and such in full volume.
Soon they were standing at the cashier, waiting in line then Dean helped Kyle to pack the purchases to the boy's car. On their way to the car they left the Impala.
"Gosh" Kyle sighed dreamily. "Anyone, who owns this car, has a damn huge luck."
"Thanks for the compliment" Dean grinned and the boy looked at him.
"She's yours?" Kyle asked shocked. Dean nodded. "Where did you get her?"
"My Dad gave her to me, when I was sixteen" the man answered. "I treat her like a queen. But I'm more careful with her, since Dad died."
"Oh" Kyle lowered his head. "I'm sorry…"
"Oh, it was years ago" Dean shrugged. They arrived at Kyle's car.
"Mine is not that fabulous" Kyle commented, "but that's why I like it."
"A pick-up truck can bear a lot of things" Dean nodded while they packed their things in onto the passenger's seat. "How old is it?"
"I got it five years ago from a friend" Kyle replied, "but it was already used." Closing the door the boy turned to Dean.
"Thanks for your help. I hope I didn't get on your nerves…"
"No" Dean shook his head. "No, you didn't. Not at all."
"I'm really glad we met" Kyle raised a hand that Dean shook with a wide smile. Kyle then got into the driver's seat then with a wave he drove away.
For a while Dean just looked into the pick-up's direction, even when it already disappeared from the sight, then he sat into the Impala and his mind drifted away. As he thought back to the meeting and the time they spent together, he felt his face blush deeply, but he ignored it. His far-away look didn't acknowledge that Harry and Sam walked out of the mall, nor that they sat into the car. He broke out of his musings only at Sam's hand, which was quickly jumping up and down in front of him. Turning that way, he met with his brother's grin.
"Why are you so… strange?" Sam asked uncertainly. "It's like a love-struck little girl's sitting at the wheel instead of my brother."
"Shut up" Dean growled and they drove back home. Neither of the brothers noticed the knowing smile that graced Harry's features.
TBC
And now it's Dean's turn... :D
Check out the profile for the URL of Kyle. I really hope you will like him, because he's the only one I could imagine with Dean. He's a really good OMC material. :)
Alright, see you soon!