*And here's where it gets M rated…just so ya know.
Dean later commented that they couldn't take action until they were absolutely certain that Andy was a werewolf, so he assigned Sam to looking after their suspect while Dean armed himself with a fake FBI badge and went to the morgue to make sure there wasn't anything out of the ordinary with the corpses. Well, out of the ordinary besides the fact their hearts were missing. Sam on one hand was weary of being around Andy again, and furthermore facing his attraction to Andy, but on the other hand he was looking forward to spending time with the cheerful brunette again.
The sun was sinking down behind the distant mountains by the time the brothers split up to attend to their separate duties. Reds, pinks, and oranges painted the sky in an ethereal mural, casting a long shadow behind Sam as he made his way down Orchard Street. Andy's van was exactly where it had been a few hours ago, not that the hunter had expected otherwise. Sam was, for reasons that were unknown to him, feeling confrontational. Not in a violent way. He would have preferred it to be violence that was resulting in his face flushing a deep shade of red, but the tension clenching his muscles was disturbingly sexual. And it had all started to set in after he'd been faced with the prospect of seeing Andy again. He hated the way he was reacting, but he was powerless to repress himself.
Sucking in a deep breath and filling his lungs with air, Sam approached the van and lightly rapped on the passenger's side door. Andy opened it and came tumbling out, his hair mussed and his eyes bloodshot. He gave Sam a dopey grin, the clumsiness of his actions giving away that he was most definitely high.
"You came back," he said happily.
Sam smiled. "You're the one who said don't be a stranger."
"That I did, my friend, that I did. C'mon, join me."
Andy opened the door to the back of his van, and Sam's job was to keep an eye on him, so he accepted the invitation. The inside of Andy's van was…very Andy. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, a beaded curtain separated it from the rest of the interior, a couple of books littered what had been turned into a bed, tigers were painted onto the walls, and a bong laid in the center of it all. It was long and made of glass, more than likely the boy's most prized possession. Sam's long legs protested to the enclosed space, but as Andy crawled in after him and pulled the doors closed behind him, the hunter readjusted himself until he was sitting cross legged in front of Andy. It was dark once the doors were closed. Sam could barely see Andy.
All the more discontenting were the images that came to Sam's mind when he found himself in a dark, enclosed space with Andy. They were close, so close that he could feel the other boy's body heat. The tension that had been curling through him on the way here all combined in a rush of blood that flowed straight down his body and into his groin. He was thankful for the darkness, for it concealed the slight bulge in his jeans. Something about Andy Gallagher was firmly rooted under his skin, and for the life of him, he couldn't pinpoint why.
Just when Sam thought his day couldn't get any worse, a very high Andy leaned forward and trailed his lips over Sam's neck. "I can smell you…smell your adrenaline…smell your hunger…"
This was it. The confirmation. But Sam played dumb. "What are you talking about?"
Andy leaned away and reached down to take Sam's hands, a glint of fear shimmering under the bloodshot depths of his eyes. "I have to tell you something. I've never told anyone else. But I feel like I can trust you, Sam."
"Tell me what?" Sam asked, all the while feeling like guilt was going to swallow him whole.
Andy's voice dropped to a whisper. "Dude, you may not believe me…but I'm a werewolf. A real, honest to God werewolf. I was turned when I was eighteen. I never found out who did this to me. Ever since then, I've felt like a freak. And it's so lonely, man. You're the first person I've ever met that makes me feel safe. I get it if you run screaming, or if you never wanna see me again, but Sam…I don't want to be lonely anymore."
His speech had pretty much undone whatever remains of self control Sam had managed to preserve. Because not only did he really like Andy, and not only was he insanely attracted to him, but he knew where he was coming from. Sam had always felt like a freak. He could never tell anyone what he was, never open up to anyone. No one could ever completely know him, inside and out. And as sick and twisted as it was given that Andy pretty much had a death warrant hanging over his head, he felt like for once in his life, he'd finally met someone he could be himself with.
Which is exactly why he didn't object when Andy hesitantly, vulnerably brought their lips together in a kiss.
Sam opened his mouth with a low moan as Andy slipped his tongue inside. He wrapped his fingers in that curly brown hair, clenching it between his fingers. After spending so long alone, without becoming attached to anyone, kissing someone felt so damn good. Judging from Andy's low moans, the feeling was mutual. Before Sam could really set his mind on a rational path so that he could tell himself how positively horrible of an idea this was, it promptly went offline as Andy repositioned so that Sam was laid out on the makeshift bed and Andy was on top of him. His knees were drawn up slightly to accommodate the small space.
The hunter reached up and pushed Andy's robe off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it drop. It took some very agile repositioning to get each other stripped and their clothing ended up strewn all over the van, but after some moves worthy of the most flexible gymnasts, they were skin to skin. Sam gasped as Andy rubbed his erection against Sam's, sending white hot sparks of pleasure racing up his spine. Fingers reached back to probe his hole, eliciting a hard shudder from the taller man.
"Are you sure?" Sam panted, his legs parting without him even meaning for them to. This was so not what Dean meant by 'keeping an eye on' Andy.
Andy nodded quickly and breached Sam's entrance with one finger, stretching the inner ring of tight muscle. Sam growled out that he wanted more, and Andy hastened to oblige, sliding a second finger in, crooking them. Sam moaned and moved his hips down against Andy's fingers, his long brown hair falling into his eyes. He might have thought that it needed to be cut, but suddenly he was blinded with ecstasy as Andy's fingers pressed against his prostate.
"Oh yes," Sam panted, his legs opening as far as they could in their current position.
Sam suddenly felt very empty as those two fingers were removed and then replaced with the long, flushed length of Andy's shaft. His hips bucked up on their own accord, leaving his entrance even more open to the slow burn of penetration. It was the best pain he could ever imagine. Andy, through the haze of his mind numbing high, growled lowly at the tight heat surrounding him.
"Sam," he moaned, his nails biting into the hunter's shoulders.
Sam was flushed, sweating, and by the standards of anyone that knew beauty when they saw it, gorgeous. "Deeper. Please, Andy, just do it already."
Thankfully the boy had no objections to the requested course of action. He pulled out of Sam almost all the way, and with a brutality that sent bolts of pain and pleasure through Sam so forcefully that he feared he would come right then and there, rammed back in all the way to the hilt. Sam's large hands clenched around Andy's forearms, his calloused fingers pressing against the pale, unmarred skin and leaving small bruises to well up under them.
Andy started to pound into Sam with hard, steady thrusts, striking Sam's prostate with enough force to very nearly undo the hunter. Sam bit back a cry of pleasure as soft, nimble fingers caressed his aching protrusion, weakly begging for more. More of what he didn't know; the assault against the bundle of nerves inside of him or the slow but sensual touch against his cock, but Andy seemed to get the idea and started stroking Sam's length with the same fast pace he was thrusting into his body.
"This is so much better than getting high," Andy commented breathily.
Sam laughed through his panting and hit Andy's ribcage with his knee. "Shut up."
The curly haired boy started the lose his rhythm as he got closer to climax, his head dropping down onto Sam's chest, whimpering softly. Sam wrapped an arm around Andy and threw his head back, arching up just as Andy thrust up into him. His hand trailed down to the base of Andy's spine, lightly pressing to where the boy's tail would be, and it elicited a shockingly powerful reaction.
"Oh gods yes, fuck, oh please ohhhh…" Andy trailed off brokenly, rubbing back against Sam's hand.
Sam dug his nails slightly, using his palm to rub the skin. Andy was moaning and panting like nothing the hunter had ever heard before. Those noises were enough to bring Sam that much closer to the edge, which he was teetering on dangerously. Andy was writhing against his hand, still pumping his dick whilst pounding against his prostate. Too many sensations, too many conflicting points of pleasure. They didn't so much as slowly bring Sam to his orgasm as violently throw him into it.
As his release consumed him, his muscles clenched around Andy and his nails sunk into the base of his spine hard enough to draw blood. With a nearly convulsive shudder, Andy came along with him, warmth filling Sam as he did so. They clutched onto each other as if the force of it would tear them apart and carry them away.
"Ffffuck," Andy moaned, riding out the waves.
Yeah, what he said, Sam thought, given that he was unable to speak. His climax was so strong that he grew dizzy and his throat closed up slightly. He wasn't sure how long it was before they finally found themselves twined together, breathing heavily and their hands laced together, resting on Sam's chest. Andy's head was laying on Sam's shoulder, his soft hair tickling the side of the hunter's face. The painfully intimate moment brought every bit of Sam's guilt rushing back to him.
Before he could decide if he wanted to take action based on his guilt, Andy suddenly stiffened and tumbled out of Sam's arms, body tensing up as tight as a wire. "I…I have to go," Andy said quickly, wriggling awkwardly into his clothes and leaving Sam lying there, confused.
Sam tried to grab his arm to ask him what was wrong, but the boy was already out the back doors and disappearing into the night. Sam pulled his clothes on (which was no easy task in the enclosed space) and got out of the van. Andy was nowhere in sight. The sky was an ominous shade of black without a single star to light the expanse of it. Sam looked around, clenching his hands in his hair and cursing under his breath. He had a feeling this was about to get bad, fast. Panic was quickly blotting out the bliss of post coital ecstasy. Sam had more than likely just let a werewolf go, under the full moon nonetheless.
Meanwhile, a low howl echoed in the distance.