Dean shifted away from Sam, slithering to Mateo. His colossal reptilian half glided across the side of Sam's thigh and calf. His scales, iridescent, flickered orange and red in languid pops of color, dimmed by the flickering candlelight. Sam was soaked in sour sweat. His abused wrists gave a particular pang of misery as he wrenched upwards.

"Dean! No!" Sam shouted, straining against the rope. "Don't hurt him!"

Dean gave no indication he'd heard him. The security guard's eyes were so wide they looked like two China plates: fragile and fleeting. Mateo shook his head as if denying the inevitability of imminent harm. Dean's smile widened, famished, as he prowled closer to the captive man. Mateo shivered back against the pipes, his bladder tensing.

"Look who we have here," Dean hissed. Mateo's gaze flickered between Dean's human upper half and his serpentine lower. Dean drew closer, shimming his hips in a measured, languid slide, his face lowering towards Mateo's until they were inches apart.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Mateo blinked. "W-what?"

Dean nodded back to Sam. Mateo's nose wrinkled up, his stomach roiling. "No."

"No?" Dean raised an eyebrow. Dean's hand landed on Mateo's leg. Mateo jumped. Dean's voice dipped low, sensual. Mateo's frightened eyes locked onto Dean's cat-like slits. "That didn't get you all jizzed in your tightie whities?"

Mateo's stomach cramped with fear. "No."

"No?" Dean repeated in a mocking tone. "We really are brothers, you know? We didn't lie about that. We're just a little closer than most."

Mateo didn't respond. The moral implications of an incestuous relationship was the last of his worries when a snake monster was hovering inches from his face.

Dean's smile became predatory, "Well now. Are you gonna squeal for me?"

Mateo's bottom lip quivered. "Whatever you are. Whatever you want. Just let me go, okay? I-I won't tell anybody."

Dean leered at him, grasping his portly thigh, sharpened nails digging into his slacks and drawing pinpricks of blood.

"What I want is for you to shut the fuck up." Dean growled. "And start squealing."

"Dean, please, stop!" Sam cried from across the room.

Dean's head snapped up and back towards Sam.

"Sammy, be quiet," Dean said in a soft, measured tone, the edges of rife darkness writhing just underneath the surface. "Just close your eyes."

"Close my eyes?" Sam exclaimed. "Close my eyes as you do what? Torture him? Kill him? Dean, this isn't you."

Dean's expression darkened, his lips wrenching up in anything but a smile. "How do you know this isn't me?"

"Because I know you!" Sam said. "Because I've known you my whole life. You'd never hurt a civilian. Dean, you're sick. Whatever this is, this curse, this affliction, it's fucking with your head. Just come over here, untie me, and we'll figure this out."

Dean stared at Sam, pulling a crooked smile. "I'm not cursed, Sammy."

"Dean, you don't even have legs anymore." Sam said. "You've been turned into a fucking Naga. You need to just, please, stop what you're doing and think about this."

"What's there to think about?" Dean said imperturbably. "I'm hungry."

Sam's face paled. "Dean, you're not gonna…you can't."

Mateo's gaze darted between the two. Was the monster talking about…eating him? Pinpricks of sweat burst from Mateo's nape.

"Why not?" Dean asked, his voice dark and teasing. "He's here, all trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Is it really my fault I can't resist taking a bite?" Dean's claws ran down his thigh, drawing sallow scratches and welts of hot blood.

Mateo felt a scream bubbling up from his throat. He choked out a broken sound. A low keening. Dean slapped a hand over his mouth. Mateo pawed at Dean's forearms with his bound hands, but Dean kept a steady pressure on his lips, eyes not straying from Sam.

"Dean, you don't want to do this." Sam moaned, banging the back of his head against the pipes.

"Oh, but I do, Sammy." Dean purred. "There's nothing else in the world that I'd rather do."

"No, you don't." Sam writhed upward against his constraints. "You don't, Dean. This is your affliction talking. Not you."

Dean sneered in annoyance, his claws digging into Mateo's leg. "We'll see about that, little brother."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Dean turned his head back to Mateo, tearing his hand away. Viper quick, Dean bent over and sharp teeth penetrated the pulsing skin of Mateo's fleshy neck. Mateo's mouth stretched open in a gasp. A mask of horror, agony twisting his features into a macabre doppelganger. Dean chewed, gnashing his teeth. A stream of blood poured from Mateo's neck, soaking his tight-fitting uniform red, pooling rapidly down to his plump belly. A sound came forth from Mateo's stunned mouth, rapidly snowballing into a scream. A hand was placed over his mouth, silencing him. He screamed into the hand. Against his legs were claws digging, tearing at his cheap black slacks. Mateo slumped over. Liquid flowed over one eye and Mateo didn't know if it was tears or blood.

Something was wrong. Despite the obvious, a bizarre second agony zipped through Mateo's blood. God, he was burning up, full of fire, hot, burning up, in need of water, in need of food, nourishment, something. His toes, he couldn't feel toes. He couldn't feel his legs, his arms, his belly, his chest. Every nerve ending was being torn out: the circuits cut. The last thing Mateo felt was teeth being extracted from his throat. Then the pain of that, too, was extinguished.

He was numb. Wholly numb. So numb he couldn't remember ever being in such a state. Half blinded by the hot liquid running down one eye, Mateo laid, incapacitated, on the concrete. He tried to move his legs, even a slight twitch of his toes. Nothing. He was paralyzed. He was paralyzed and in the grips of a monster. Mateo opened his mouth to pray but his vocal cords were numbed, too, and nothing came out but a pitiful grunt of escaping air.

The monster chuckled mere inches from his face. With his clear eye, he saw the monster tear his slacks from his legs and toss them away. He plucked his socks and shoes from his feet. Although he could not feel it, he saw that he was being lifted. A tearing sound. A long riiiiippppp. His shirt was removed, too. Next, came his underwear. Mateo felt a hot ball of shame slam into his chest. Nobody had seen his privates since he was a child when his dutiful mother gave him baths. Now the monster could see all of him: his naked, helpless self. Mateo began to cry.

"Dean! Stop!" Sam screamed. His voice echoed, bouncing back.

The monster hissed against Mateo's flesh, burying its face against his torn throat and licking at the congealing blood. Pulling away, the monster purred against the shell of his ear, "You're a fat one, aren't you?"

Mateo was briefly brought back to his childhood in Cancun, Mexico. There had been the starving, taunting children outside his father's restaurant: a popular tourist destination for wealthy, adventurous tourists with drugs in their pockets and contempt in their eyes. The neighborhood children made it a pastime sport to jeer at him, calling him gordo, and chunking rocks as Mateo rushed past, running his father's numerous errands. The insult had stuck with him for so long, but hearing it uttered from the lips of a monster was something Mateo hadn't been prepared for. Mateo cried harder.

The monster chuckled, flicking out his tongue and licking his cheek. "Hush. It'll be over soon."

"Dean! Don't!" Sam shouted. "Get away from him!"

The monster looked behind him, his voice harsh: "Sammy, if you don't stop screaming, I'll gag you. Do you really want that, dude?"

Sam ignored the threat. "Just untie me. We can get help. It's not too late. You can't eat him, Dean. He's, fuck, he's a person for God's sake!"

Dean hissed angerly, jerking away from Mateo's body and searching for his shirt. Finding the discarded article of clothing, he tore a strip from the cleaner portion. The monster slithered to Sam. He seized Sam's face. Sam jolted his head to the side, but Dean clasped his cheek, dispelling his struggles. He shoved the makeshift gag between Sam's teeth and tied the cloth to the back of his head. Cheeks flushed and eyes ablaze with a potent mixture of terror and rage, Sam shouted into his gag.

Dean pressed a kiss to Sam's temple, raking his fingers through his brother's tangled, sweaty locks. "Stop it. You're just gonna hurt yourself."

Sam tried to kick out and connect with a portion of Dean's lower half, but Dean jerked back just in time to miss his flailing legs. Dean hissed, maneuvering behind Sam and with one strong tug, broke the rope from the pipes. He fell upon a freed Sam and rapidly rolled him onto his stomach. With his hands still tied behind his back and ropes ensnaring his ankles, Sam struggled to rise. He was just as quickly pressed against the ground. His cheek felt wet against the concrete. Wet and slimy.

"You don't have to watch. I know how squeamish you're about certain stuff." Dean said, poised over him. Dean's hand felt like a hot iron against the small of his back. "Hell, Sammy, when we were kids, you couldn't even watch those PBS nature documentaries."

Sam stared at the candles flickering on top of the table, jerking up against the ground, trying to roll over. Dean's face came into view.

"If you're good for me, I'll reward you after I eat," Dean purred, flicking his tongue against the shell of Sam's ear. Dean patted Sam's jean-clad rump. Sam flinched at the touch. Dean's clawed fingers ran up and down the hills of his buttocks in tentative, soft swipes. At that, Sam's struggles died down to sporadic shivers down his back. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on his breathing. In and out, in and out. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Dean's fingers slipped upward. Dean patted his back for a couple minutes. Despite himself, Sam felt himself calm down, a side effect of Dean's accustomed touch.

Dean nuzzled the side of Sam's neck, murmuring, "Good boy."

Sam groaned into the gag, aching to tell Dean just where he could shove that good boy compliment.

Dean lurched off Sam and bowed towards Mateo. Mateo watched as the monster languidly slithered to him, his lips twisted into a famished grin. Mateo's insides were a jumbled wreck of blind terror, but his body wouldn't even let him twitch a finger. The monster's thick, powerful lower half swiped back and forth against the ground until the creature was a mere yard away. The monster dipped low, crawling towards him on his hands. Mateo saw the monster grasp his shoulders, claws tunneling deep.

The monster opened his mouth impossibly wide. Something cracked, perhaps his jawbone, perhaps something else. Mateo stared into the dark, impending abyss of the monster's mouth. His breath wafted towards Mateo's face, hot and scentless. Tears slipped down Mateo's cheeks. Before he could even attempt a whimper, the monster shoved him forward. His head was engulfed by wet darkness. The monster moaned around him, swallowing thickly. Mateo was pulled forward into the monster's throat. Tightness engulfed him as he was dragged deeper and deeper into the robust, dreadful gullet. Soon, only his feet were left outside his body. They, too, were swallowed.

Mateo's world was abruptly dragged down into a tight sphincter. He couldn't feel it, no, but he knew. His fleshy prison was hot and humid, tight. Forced into a fetal position, Mateo desperately tried to move in the beast's belly, but the venom was too potent, and Mateo couldn't even feel the monster running his wretched hands over the plump ball of his form. Outside, Mateo heard the monster moan in pleasure, complimenting him on how good he'd tasted. Mateo squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his fate, praying to God to forgive him of his sins, of the boy he'd been in Cancun, of the man he'd been in Needles.

Abruptly, the monster must've laid down because Mateo found his back pressed against a different part of his stomach. There he laid, curled up, for several minutes, before a low growling sprained from the fleshy, wet walls encapsulating him. The stomach walls pushed against Mateo, pulling him down another valve into a rancid, bubbling space. Mateo had a pretty solid idea of where he was: the monster's second stomach, his snake stomach. Perhaps it was a mercy because Mateo didn't feel the stinging digestive juices scour against his naked body, rubbing deep rashes into his skin and making the digestion process easier. He died of asphyxiation long before his flesh slouched off in rivets from his bones.

Dean leaned against the wall, staring with half-lidden eyes at his serpentine lower half and the plump meal tucked away. The ball of meat had moved from the impossibly massive bulge of his human stomach and into his snake stomach. The motion had been faintly painful, especially feeling his prey tug down through the tunnel between his human top and his snake bottom. But it had been worth it. The agony of his hunger was gone. Dean licked his lips, almost euphoric from satisfaction. He'd never felt fuller. Not as a human, certainly. He patted the fat knot in his tail and turned his gaze back to Sam.

His brother was still on his stomach on the ground, staring at the wall opposite. Dean had been so caught up in his first feeding, he hadn't been sure Sam had watched him. Sam was lying motionless, the only signs of movement the gentle rise and fall of his back. Dean's chest twisted with affection at the sight of him. The air was consumed with Sam's scent: like peaches and roses and musk and something so deep, so feral, it stirred every primal instinct in Dean's veins. If all the monsters had been able to scent his brother's tantalizing aroma, Dean didn't know how they'd been able to keep their hands off him. Or, perhaps, Sam only smelled so good to Dean because of the deep bond they shared, a bond not only of blood but of bruised knees, scraped knuckles, bedtimes in rundown motels, and the amulet resting against Dean's chest.

Dean ran the back of his hand against his lips, wiping away the drying, flaked blood. He pushed off from the wall, sluggish from his gluttony. He slithered to Sam. Sam's eyes were squeezed shut. Poised over him, Dean pushed his fingers into his hair, claws rubbing tenderly against his scalp. Sam shivered. Dean smirked. Dean leaned down and blanketed Sam's broad back with his front. With his hands braced on either side of Sam's arms, Dean pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his nape, licking the salt from his skin. He mouthed hotly at his hairline. Sam's eyes snapped open. Dean smoothed his palm against Sam's sweaty forehead. Sam mumbled something incoherent into his gag.

Dean nibbled teasingly on Sam's tense, thrumming throat.

"You ready for your reward, little brother?"