(A/N: This story is co-written with Dean_The_Hunter
*We do not own the characters in the story, we're just playing with them.)
The sky was black on this moonless night. Woods surrounded the industrial looking building, once a working foundry, but now silent except for the sound of the nocturnal birds and the occasional howling of a dog.
Nothing marked the place for what it was... a place where heavy rock music reverberated over the packed crowd of men... men who came here to let it all hang out, to do their worst, meet their worst, fuck and drink, and to let the world and their responsibilities go. Here, duty, good, evil... none of it meant anything. For a short time, they could step outside themselves and live by no rules. Everyone needed an outlet... and this one was theirs.
The parking lot was surrounded by old barbed wire. Cars and trucks parked at will... there were no painted spots, no order... the only rule that applied was that no one blocked another’s vehicle.
He left the black Impala behind in the parking lot. How Dean heard of this place, was something he didn't want to get into. But if it was a place where Sam wouldn't look to find him for a few hours or a night, it was perfect. He needed a break from him. Needed a break from it all. Hunting the demons that they let loose and being hunted ... it was too much for him at this moment. He needed an outlet. And he had less than a year to live anyway.
Dean made his way through parked cars to the metal door, hearing the heavy thumping of bass rattling its hinges. Barely visible and written in what looked like a black marker was the word “Truce.” Interesting name. He pulled the door open and immediately his senses were assaulted. Bright lights that swung to and fro forced him to blink for a moment to allow his vision to adjust. The air was thick with several scents. Booze, sweat, and sex. He had to push past bodies to get further inside.
The bar was made of metal. The whole place seemed to be. Leather couches and chairs littered the sides and corners. Parchment panels created nooks and interesting shadows behind them. A stair led up to another level where cage dancers were suspended, and cloth and foil waved in front of blowers, making it appear as if fires were burning above the crowd’s head. Men were sprawled about, talking, or grinding on the dance floor. This was surely a place Sam wouldn't look for him in.
Dean sauntered up to the bar, "Whiskey, triple and don't water it down," Dean ordered from the guy in leather behind the bar.
“Show me the cash,” the bar tender demanded. “Newbie, huh? You looking to fuck, get fucked, or watch?”
Dean pulled out his wallet and tossed the bills upon the bar, "I'm looking for a drink; whatever else I do, well, that's between me and my imagination. Triple shot of whiskey." He reminded the guy again.
“I hope you have a broad imagination, because anything goes,” he answered, pouring the guy a strong-assed drink. “I know most people here. Could maybe make things go your way.” Slapping his hand over the cash, the bar tender made it clear it wouldn’t be free.
"Very broad," Dean took his glass then looked at the bartender, "And dude, does it look like a guy like me needs your help? I'm adorable and freakin’ velvety smooth. But hey, good luck on your end." He smirked with a wink before heading away from the bar.
Spike was restless and aching for trouble. The only problem was that so far, he hadn’t found anyone that caught his fancy. On the dance floor, he’d done a fair share of groping... he was grinding against a dark haired youth, feeling out his ass even now... but his attention was drawn to the man leaving the bar.
The guy wore tight black jeans paired with a black tee shirt and a red shirt. God ... why did he need a fucking third layer of clothes? That jacket covered up the rest of him. Eyes laser focused on the guy, he practically willed him to meet his gaze as he nuzzled the brunet’s neck.
Dean was picking a path through pressing bodies, trying to find a place where his drink wouldn't get spilled. Bodies seemed to be drawn to him like a magnet and he had to lift his drink a few times. Was that a hand that grabbed his ass? Good thing his wallet wasn't kept there or a hand would be broken for sure.
As he moved, he felt a pair of eyes on him and he slowed, turning his head toward the dance floor. It didn't take long to see who was leering at him. A guy with very tight leather pants, showing off his chest and well defined muscles under a vest decorated with chains. The hair was what made him stand out, nearly white from what Dean could make out. But even more startling were his eyes. Bright blue even from where he was standing. Filled with darkness, mystery and hunger. As the blond groped the guy he was with, Dean's greens locked with those blues and he felt something ignite in him. Something he usually only felt when he saw a girl that peaked his interest.
Still watching, Dean lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink. It left his lips shiny in the light, even after he pursed and ran his tongue over them.
The longer their gazes remained locked, the hotter Spike got. As he ground his hips against his dance partner, he knew what he wanted... his tongue should bloody well be following the trail left by that guy’s, should be delving into his mouth after it. He gave him a bolder look, trailing his gaze up and down his body... expecting the guy to look away the way most did when they glimpsed the vampire’s darkest desires.
This man whose gaze raked over him like hot coals, who sent desire radiating through his system, didn’t scare him. Dean had looked into the eyes of death, literally, and it hung about him like a cloak. And he’d danced with the devil -- this man could be no worse. So green eyes merely held the gaze and if anything, gave a little sly look back as that glass rose up again to cover his lips to down the rest of his drink.
That was it. Spike shoved his nameless partner away and made a beeline for the dark blond with the intense green eyes. As he strode toward him, he pushed dancers aside and ignored those who tried to get his attention. Like an invisible cord, something was pulling him toward his quarry... and nothing would stop him from reaching him.
Deliberately, he walked into the guy’s personal space, only inches separating their bodies. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got ‘come fuck me’ eyes?” he asked. “Take the jacket off and let’s see what else you’ve got.”
Dean smirked behind the rim of the glass as Spike started clearing a path toward him. He lowered the empty glass just as Spike stopped inches from him. The sexual heat radiating from the man, wrapped around Dean, and seemed to pull him in. He lifted his head a bit, "I've been told that, but you gonna make it worth my while to take this off?" Dean asked, opening part of his jacket to reveal more of the layers of clothing he wore.
The instant the guy lost his drink glass, Spike gripped the zippered edges of his now open jacket and gave a rough tug so their bodies collided... hard. His mind was still registering how good the guy felt against him, as he moved in and clamped his mouth over those lips. That darting tongue had driven him crazy, and he wanted it... bad. Delving inside Dean’s mouth, he stroked the guy’s tongue once with his, but that was the extent of his gentleness. Wild heat invaded his senses, his body, his being. Fuck... he wanted this guy... wanted him bad... under him, squirming, calling his name... and he’d have him. He deepened the kiss and pulled the guy’s jacket off his shoulders, showing him ‘no’ was not an acceptable answer.
Dean’s air was forced from him as their bodies collided. He could feel hard muscles against his own and the strong erection pressing against his thigh. He had no choice but to part his lips as that demanding tongue invaded his mouth. Dean gave as good as he got, feeling his insides heating as the kiss dragged on. He let his jacket come off, half dragging his outer shirt off as well.
Finally he tore his full lips from the guy, he at least needed air if the other guy didn't and his lungs burned with the need for it. "You work faster than I do. I'd ask for your name but I somehow don't think that would matter." Dean rocked on his heels, causing his hip to rub against that erection. "Wanna go someplace a little more... out of the way?"
“Name’s Spike. You know what I am?” A dangerous glint entered Spike’s eyes as his hands roved over the guy’s body and found no less than two stakes, in addition to a collection of knives. “You a hunter?” That explained the fearless look. “Think you can take me?” Gripping the hair on the back of Dean’s head and pulling back, he raked his razor sharp teeth along the side of the guy’s throat. “There’s a reason this place is called Truc, but if you try anything... I – will - nail - your - bloody - arse – to – the - wall.”
Dean chuckled, though a slight moan escaped his lips from the feel of dangerously sharp teeth that traveled along the pulse point of his neck. He placed his hands on Spike's chest. There was no body heat, no heartbeat and it clearly told Dean what he was. Though this man could be a number of things, the teeth were the dead giveaway. "I know what you are but that threat sounds very tempting. Spike," he paused, "You gonna pierce me with your own stake?" He smirked, "And yeah, I'm a hunter, names Dean. Dean Winchester." Had the vampire heard of the family name? A name well connected to dispatching the supernatural? "That cranking you up a few notches?" Dean was now pushing back.
Recognition flared in laser blue eyes that loved nothing more than trouble. Dragging the jacket and shirt all the way off Dean and dropping them onto the floor, Spike moved his hands between them, cupping Dean’s erection, and pulling him as he walked backwards. “What about this... this cranking you up a few notches?” He squeezed, and slapped his other hand over Dean’s ass, making sure the human was wedged between his hands and couldn’t move in any direction but toward him.
Dean moved, valuing his goods, that was for sure. But also the sensations were making him hard. He reached between their bodies, fingers curling around the wrist that was connected to the hand that was gripping him between his legs. He gave a tug, winced a bit from losing contact, but brought Spike's wrist up to his mouth where he pressed his lips against it and let his teeth scrape over the pulse point before giving a tongue wet kiss. "Yeah it is." Dean answered as he pressed and rubbed his cock against Spike's thigh.
“Hunter turned vampire,” Spike rasped. Role-play was not unusual in a place like this. “You’d make a damned fine vampire.” The flash of white teeth... the burn as the human scraped them down his inner arm sent fire smoldering through Spike’s already taut body. He pushed his leg between Dean’s, fucking his thigh as he moved to the heavy beat of the music.
Dean wasn't into dancing, but he knew the motions of sex and how to turn them on. He ground and rocked against Spike, releasing his arm grabbing at Spike's waist with both hands, pressing them closer together. He kept his head turned to Spike slightly, eyes smoldering. His breath was quick, his heart rate up and it wasn't from the music either.
The sound of harsh breathes... of a heart pounding out of control... of blood forced through human veins... drove Spike to the edge. He turned up the heat, forcing Dean into a slow dirty dance as they headed across the dance floor toward the back, brushing his mouth over Dean’s. Hot... wet... needy... unafraid... just like he wanted.
“You’re so bloody fuckable,” the vampire groaned, suddenly clamping both arms around the hunter’s ass and slanting his mouth down hard over Dean’s. Fucking him with his tongue, in and out... battling for... then taking complete control. Clearly this one was not used to giving it up.
Dean ground his hips, slipping his hands behind Spike and also gripping his ass. That mouth was all too good, even the words that were coming from it. He gave a growl as Spike dove in, taking a hard kiss, demanding that Dean relent. Dean fought for a while, making it as good as he was getting till he finally gave in. He tore his lips from Spike, looking at the lips, "Tell me, does the rest of you taste this good?"
Images of that mouth blowing him had the vampire’s fingers digging into Dean. “Is that an offer? I accept.”
Suddenly, Spike turned Dean around to point him toward the old offices section of the foundry... where it all happened. Grinding his erection into Dean’s jean-clad ass, and shoving his hands under the black tee shirt he wore... kneading his taut abs, he used his body to force him to keep walking... music and beat be damned.
Dean moved, seeming to have no other choice but his heels were digging in. "Jacket and Shirt you left behind. Not gonna till I have them. The jacket is important to me." It was his father's, one of the few things he has left of the man.
“Get it later,” Spike shoved him forward, need driving his actions. He moved one hand above Dean’s waistband and shoved it inside, straining the material of the hunter’s jeans as he forced it to make room. Closing his hand around Dean’s length, he squeezed rhythmically, grinding his throbbing cock into him at the same time. “Move.”
Dean shook his head, even as he stumbled back. He then let out a hiss as fingers gripped and squeezed. "Fuck," Dean hissed out, grabbed the upper part of the Vampire's arms and whipping him around into the nearest wall where he could press his body against his and savagely kiss him while working to get those all too tight leather pants open.
Spike’s head slammed back against the wall and he reluctantly released Dean, but the sensations of a hot and angry mouth working over his own quickly drew him into a tight web of lust and desire. His stomach clenched tight as Dean fiddled with his zipper, brushing his cock in the process. The instant the sound of his zipper pierced the air, he broke the kiss and growled, "Take me in your mouth." Already, he was spreading his legs, and pushing Dean down. The interested looks from other men stoking the heat of his lust.
Dean bit at Spike's chest, especially his nipple as he was being forced down. "Demanding shit," He mumbled as his tongue rimmed out that belly button before him and he was upon his knees. Leather was peeled back and partially pulled down. Dean leaned in and drew a deep breath, nuzzling into Spike's crotch. Green eyes lifted as he pulled Spike's cock toward his full lips. His hot breath was the first to tease that crown with a feel of what was to come.
“Don’t like to be told what to do, yeah?” Shuddering with need, Spike realized that was exactly what had caught his fancy... the Hunter’s rebellion... desire to rebel, and yet here he was bending to a vampire’s desires and to needs he could not control. “Go on,” he jerked his hips forward, rubbing his thick length across Dean’s closed mouth. “Take it.”
Dean tipped his head back a bit, teasing Spike by not giving right away. He dipped down low, placing a flat lick along the throbbing vein at the underside and working his way up the v and flicked his tongue off. With a tip of his head to the side, full lips worked the sides, up and down before just covering the top and pressing his tongue to the weeping hole and tasting the drops of pre-cum leaking out.
It wasn’t very often anyone played with him like that... frustrated him like that. Made him feel good, like that. Spike grunted his approval, running his fingers through short blond hair... fighting the growing urge to force him forward... to fuck his mouth and force him to take him deep.
Dean opened his mouth more, taking Spike deeper and dimpling his cheeks as he sucked off then down his shaft again. Dean's head started moving but his own pace, even though he could feel Spike trying to force more speed. Each time Spike pushed, Dean pulled back. It was when he felt the vampire’s grip loosen a bit that he pushed the vampire all the way down his throat and started to swallow hard.
A groan broke from the vampire. “Right... that’s it... that’s it,” he encouraged, as Dean took his pulsing cock deep into his moist mouth, sucking and squeezing around him, whipping up the intensity of his need. “That’s it...” this time, Spike couldn’t hold back. He started to thrust uncontrollably into the channel of Dean’s mouth, harder... faster... forcing the human to a different rhythm. One that he desperately needed.
Around them, he was keenly aware of the scents of arousal. Men watching them... touching themselves, their dance partners... wanting... Some with predatory glances and so close to the edge of losing control, Spike wouldn’t be surprised if they interfered. Tried to interfere.
Dean kept working the vampire and wondered how quick his recovery time would be. Perhaps it should be tested. He placed his hands on Spike's hips and pushed holding him down as he worked Spike to the pace he wanted. He glanced up, and moved his hand up to scratch a line up that well defined chest.
“Yes...” Forced to stay still, Spike’s eyes flared. He could break Dean’s hold... he could fuck his mouth... could throw one leg over his shoulder and show him who was taking who. Between the thoughts spinning in his head, and the things Dean’s mouth and hand were doing, Spike finally gave himself up. Curling his fingers into Dean’s hair, he went for the ride, closing his eyes as his cock stiffened. Time slowed... stopped as he exploded in a mind shattering orgasm, shuddering and groaning as he came.
Dean felt the impending swelling, muscles tightening; he knew what was to come. He pulled him down his throat and without gagging, felt Spike release. Dean swallowed and swallowed and sucked more till Spike was trembling with pleasure. He pulled off him, cleaned him more then slid back up that body, licking, nibbling and biting hard till he was level with the guy.
Dean smiled, "Like that huh?" He leaned in and kissed him with his own hunger. Dean pulled back a little, tipping his head and biting Spike's neck. "You did taste really good."
Still lost in slowly receding sensations, Spike was only vaguely aware of what Dean was saying. All he knew was that this boy... this hunter was his... for the night. Already his cock was starting to pay attention.
A burly demon-trapper who’d watched as the vampire was driven out of his mind, now wanted some. Slapping a heavy hand on Dean’s shoulder, he peeled him away from the blond. “My turn, pretty boy.”