Chapter 2

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"You think I scared him off, Sammy?"

"We're still here, aren't we? History hasn't been changed, not yet anyway, though I still don't get why you were so eager to talk with your past self, Dean. Any kind of temporal interference is dangerous. You know that."

"Yeah, but I remember that day. I was feeling like a ten-ton truck had fallen on my head. I wanted to give the poor guy a ray of hope. Let him know it all finished well." "That's debatable, at least for you back then, Dean. Anyway as he's you, he would've gotten here eventually," Sam expounded logically. "There was no need to anticipate stuff."

"Sammy, why do you always have to spoil things by being geeky?"
:

Sam rolled his eyes. "Hell's most feared torturer and you're just a big softy at heart."
"Pff!" Dean exclaimed. "That ship sailed a long time ago. Nobody puts a foot wrong in this place anymore!"

"That's only because everyone's shit-scared of you, Dean!"
"Hey. I worked my ass off to get your demons in line while you were arranging the furniture!"

"Reworking Hell wasn't exactly arranging the furniture," Sam objected, slouching back on the throne.

"It is when you have freaky mind powers, little brother."
"Whatever," Sam pouted.

"I hope the twin barrage of us ruling Hell and me making out with you wasn't too much," Dean mused, thinking of his past self again. "Maybe I should just have let him in on one."

"That's what I call closing the stable door when the horse has gone," Sam bitched. "I told you contacting him was a bad idea."
A crackling tremor coursed through the throne room. "Don't get riled up, little brother. Your inmates might be scared of me, but when you're in a filthy mood, the whole of Hell trembles."
:

"C'mere. I'll soothe your ruffled feathers."
Cupping his brother's neck, Dean kissed him soundly.
They both loved exchanging kisses and Dean got perverse pleasure in leaving Sam panting for more.
Sometimes they would spend hours just enjoying each other's lips, mouth, and tongue It was something so intimate that both got off on it.

Sam gasped as Dean straddled him without taking his mouth from his.
"You might be King of Hell, Sammy," Dean panted in arousal, "but in the bedroom, I rule and you're my pretty little bitch."

"You like being my bitch, don't you, baby?"
"Yeah," Sam murmured, reaching for Dean's mouth, but his big brother pulled back.

"Tell me, Sam. Tell me you love being my bitch."
"I love being your bitch," Sam repeated obediently and meant it.
Dean brought his lips back down on Sam's, glorying in the sensations of pleasure racing through his body.

Reluctantly, he pulled back.
"We don't have time right now, little brother. Your minions are waiting for their big Kahuna to give the annual ceremonial show of his power, and we don't want to mess up that glorious black leather that shows off your ass so well. But afterward," Dean lowered his voice until there remained only a husky whisper, " I'll make you come like you never have before."

Sam gulped. "Promises, promises."

"No, little brother. Certainties!" Dean vowed, passing a hand over his brother's groin. "I see little Sammy's eager to get with the party too."

:
"I'll leave you to it," Dean said untangling himself from his brother. "You know I hate all this ceremonial hogwash. I'll let your worshippers in, then pay Crowley a visit. If he gets a double dose today, I'll put the blame on you for making me horny."

Sam's face took on a fearsome glare. "I don't know why you bother. Let somebody else dirty their hands with him."

"I enjoy a little torture now and again, keeps my hand in," Dean grinned wolfishly.

He sauntered to the huge doors and opened them.
The demons filtered silently into the throne room, their eyes fixed on Sam, and the ceremony began.

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"Crowley! I thought I'd come and keep you company. Nobody seems to want anything to do with you, and I know how much you like a good gossip."

Crowley cringed into the corner of the cell, but there was nowhere to run.
"I tried to intercede with Sam to get you some perks, dude, but he's still pretty riled with you. You made a seriously bad choice when you killed Sarah. I don't think he's ever gonna let you forget it."

Crowley remained silent. There was nothing to say, no excuses to make. He'd said it all in the past and none of it had done him any good.
Sam wanted him to suffer, and suffer was all he did.

"Bet you never imagined Sam would be the one to take your crown, huh? " Dean said as he sharpened his razor.
"You know, he's a fair ruler. Doesn't punish more than a soul deserves. Hell's better for having him. Too bad you're the exception that proves the rule, Dude!."

As the scalpel penetrated his soul, Crowley howled, and back in the throne room, Sam's lips curled in pleasure at the sound.

The End