Mine forever. That did it. Dean started to suck and swallow the tangy liquid. His stomach roiled... protested, and then it was as if his body recognized the blood was like a salve... an anti venom for the burning pain. Almost wild with hunger, Dean's fingers dug into Sam's forearm as he gripped him tight and started to drink faster, drawing as much of the life giving liquid as he could, needing it... feeling it sweep the burning and numb sensations out of his body.
Sam raised his head as soon as Dean started to drink, a low groan sounding deep in his throat as Dean latched onto his arm. Biting his lip, Sam started to move again on Dean, inside him, thrusting his hips as he closed his eyes slowly, allowing Dean to take what he needed to be his forever, coming inside him one more time.
Too soon, Sam knew he had to pull his arm away. "Dean, that's enough, you've had enough," Sam told him softly, "come on, baby, let go."
It felt too good, the way it nullified the pain. There was something else too, it was like taking Sam inside him, a different way but having him be a part of him, a way not many would understand. Snarling under his breath, Dean refused and greedily took more, sucking harder, gripping Sam tighter.
"Dean!" Sam spoke his name louder, in a warning tone, "Let go," he said, trying to pull his arm from Dean's grasp. When Dean would not release him, Sam lowered his head, fangs at Dean's neck, "Let. go., Dean." He dragged his fangs over the tender flesh of Dean's neck. "You've hand enough. No more." Sam tugged his arm, this time freeing it from Dean's grasp.
Once he was cut off from the supply of fresh vampire blood, all the good sensations were gone. Dean could hear his heart... hear it slowing. He could feel his organs shutting down one by one. Eyes wide, he stared at Sam. "More... need more... dying," he rasped, mind a mess of confusion. Why... why was Sam doing this to him?
Sam nodded slowly, "I know, baby. I know. It's okay, let it happen, let it happe," he whispered leaning his head down to nuzzle Dean's neck, feeling his heart slow, skip a few beats, then stop all together.
All that was left now, was the waiting.
Even knowing that your love had to die to be turned, it didn't make it any easier for Sam. It didn't dampen the slight panic that welled up or ease the emotions that squeezed his dead heart. It didn't make the process any less painful, because, for all the knowing, somewhere in there, the part of him that remembered life and knew how fragile it was, became lost to dark possibilities.
Sam wrapped his arms tightly around Dean as he held him, rolling them over so that Deans head and shoulders were pillowed by his chest, his head tucked against Sam's neck as he ran a hand absently through his hair.
Everything was pitch black. Darker than anything Dean had ever seen, like he imagined space would be without stars and suns. Someone had put black ink in front of his eyes. He might not be able to see, but he realized he could hear. Real well. Too well. He could hear the wind outside, the rustling of trees. He could hear the cars, and even what people inside them said. He could hear a mouse squeaking, and yet he knew it was miles away.
And then he realized he wasn't breathing.
Sucking in a big lungful of air, he jacknifed up. His heart should be pounding loudly in his ears but wasn't. His pulse should be out of control, but it wasn't... it wasn't there. And then his eyes started to clear and he reached for Sam's shoulder. "What ... what's happening to me?"
Sam reached out to run the back of a finger down the side of Dean's face. "Nothing is happening to you, Dean. It already has happened. You're a vampire now. My vampire, my mate, forever."
Dean started to tremble. "I can't breathe." It was true, he had to think... make himself breathe or it wasn't happening. "So many sounds." He met Sam's gaze, then touched his own heart, troubled by the sound of silence.
Sam sat up slowly next to Dean. "You can breathe, you just need to think about it now to do it." Sam shook his head, "it's not required anymore." A small smile tugged at Sam's lips, "Yes, the noise can be distracting, but you'll learn to block it out." He raised a hand, covering Dean's on his chest, "It's still there, it just doesn't beat anymore, it has no reason to," he told him softly, as he patiently explained away Dean's fears.
Looking down, Dean moved his hand over Sam's, still trying to process everything. He swallowed, breathed in Sam's comforting scent, then whispered. "I want to see what I look like." He had to have changed.
Sam smiled softly, "You look the same, your eyes change color and you have vampire allure now," he gave a soft huff, "not that you need it, you're beautiful. " He leaned in and brushed his lips across Dean's. "We'll go upstairs as soon as you are stable and can walk."
Still trembling, Dean was quiet for a while, occasionally touching his lips to Sam's or his throat, or jaw... each time he felt the onset of fear of the future, and of what he had turned into. It felt like he was in a dream, part of him believing what was happening, another part thinking this could not be happening. He pressed his thumbnail into his thigh, pressed it hard and not feeling pain, pressed harder, dragging it up his bare skin and leaving a thin red line that started to bleed.
Sam silently watched Dean, one hand holding loosely onto Dean's, allowing the truth, reality to set in, letting Dean come to grips with the fact that he was no longer human, but one of the undead.
Dean's nostrils flared. Hunger surged. Swooping down, he licked up his thigh, drinking every drop and watching... as if mesmerized... his wound close, and heal. "I... I'm a vampire," he nodded, licking his lips. He wanted more, more blood, but shame washed over him, and he couldn't say the words.
Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, nostrils flaring as he watched the small crimson ribbon appear on Dean's thigh, watched as his mate lapped it away hungrily. As he pulled his head back, both their gazes glued on the wound. After it healed, Sam answered,"You are." Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Dean's neck, his ear, "and I know you must be starving." He squeezed Dean's hand, "let's go eat," he coaxed his love softly as he slowly started to pull to his feet, reaching out to grab up their clothes.
He'd chosen this. He was gonna face this. Dean nodded, and accepted Sam's help getting dressing, feeling less and less unsteady as the moments slipped by. As they stepped over the shackles and walked out of the cage, Dean reached for Sam's hand, threading his fingers through the vampire's... the other vampire's. His eyes met Sam's, and why he thought the look in Sam's eyes would have changed, he didn't know. But Sam was looking at him like he always did, in a way that left no doubt in his mind that he was wanted.
* * *
Over the next three weeks, Dean learned to control his hunger and to feed in the way of the Cullens. The compulsion to seek human blood was there, pulsing under the surface, but Dr. Carlisle had said he seemed to be lucky that it wasn't as strong as in most newly made vampires. Maybe it was the fact that Dean had spent nearly 30 years of his life protecting human blood, maybe that instinct had survived the transformation.
Hunting and feeding on animals, mostly deer, it hadn't been as hard as Dean had imagined. When that hunger for blood gnawed in the pit of his stomach, and in every cell in his body, when his hunger rose... nothing could stop him from tearing his meal to get to its life blood, nothing. Sam had taught him to feed before he was at the mercy of such hunger, it was safer that way, for others.
He and Sam had a lot of fun as he discovered his new strength and speed. They climbed trees and mountains and raced. They competed, and celebrated victory by fucking each others' brains out. If he hadn't had Sam, Dean thought he might go crazy... so many hours, none of them for sleeping. But Sam was always there to entertain, to teach, to love.
After he'd had a chance to threaten to kick Ros' ass for everything she'd put him through, they'd started to get along. It was weird, it was like he'd really gained a family overnight. That theory was proven right the night the Voltari arrived. They were men in fine suits who spoke in Italian accents and were arrogant as hell. They had powers, each of them different ones, from the ability to read minds to hurting you from a distance. The Cullens had congregated around him when the Voltari questioned him until they were satisfied that he would not bring any danger or reveal the existence of vampires. It was strange that they could read his emotions that accurately, but once Sam's brother Jasper came back from his trip, he started to get used to being read since Jasper had the power of reading and manipulating emotions. He understood now that the Voltari were very organized and would not allow any human, who had knowledge of the existence of vampires, to live. They also had no qualms about killing vampires, that's why he had been grilled on his intent.
Now that he was self sufficient, Dean knew it was time to leave. He loved Sam, he really did. But he couldn't lose his sense of self and he wanted to be sure Sam meant what he'd promised him. That he had a choice in his life, that he wasn't his prisoner. The truth was, without his family's help, Sam probably couldn't imprison him ever again, but Dean wanted him to 'let go'... which was a different ball game altogether.
Last night, when they'd been making love, Dean had made sure that the Sting album was playing. He'd felt Sam tense when he heard the words If you love someone, set them free. Knew Sam understood the time had come, and they'd made love that much the harder.
* * *
Sam walked to the door of his bedroom, gazing in at Dean for a long moment, leaning against the door jam, just silently standing there watching his mate. Tearing his gaze away, Sam hung his head, his dead heart aching. With a soft sigh, Sam pulled away from the door, raising his head, golden hazel meeting golden green. "I - I have something to show you," Sam told him, reaching a hand out, waiting for Dean to take it, so he could lead him outside to his car. Sam and Emmett had hidden it deep in the woods before. Now, Sam had pulled the Impala up to the front of the house where sat waiting in the driveway for Dean.
"Oh yeah, is it in your pants?" Dean grinned, giving Sam his hand, expecting a joke of some sort.
Sam gave a small sad smile, as he shook his head, pulling him from the room and down the stairs. Unable to speak and not knowing how to say 'goodbye'... words that hurt too much, he remained silent as they made their way to the door. Stepping out of the house, Sam stopped dead in his tracks as he nodded toward the car, his grasp on Dean's hand sliding away. As their eyes met, Sam tried to offer a small smile, but it was flat and sad. "Keeping my promise," Sam told him softly.
"My car! My bab--" Dean's gaze had flicked to the Impala, but was back and locked with Sam's, the sadness in Sam's eyes making him lose his enthusiasm. "It's my... my other baby," he told Sam, trying to tell him he still loved him. Each time he'd said the words, he'd sensed that Sam wasn't buying it. That he still maybe felt like he was being used as a ticket out or whatever. "Thanks for... for taking care of her."
Sam cleared his throat, nodding. "Of course," he gave a small tight smile, tearing his gaze away from Dean to look at the car a moment, before his gaze met Dean's again. "I'll miss you," he said softly.
"Me too." Dean opened his arms and hugged Sam tight, pulling him along as he walked backwards toward the car until his back was against it. "I'll miss you. Everything about you, Sam. Mostly miss the way you look at me, like I matter." His hand slipped up the side of Sam's neck to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing over Sam's lips. "I hope you know... you see that I look at you like that too."
Sam swallowed and hung his head a moment before raising it once more, "I know that that would make me very happy," he gave a small smile. It was the best he could offer. He wasn't going to allow himself to dare to believe otherwise. He'd learned the hard way before how very well the hunter, his mate, could lie, use him, hurt him. Sam raised a hand to cup Dean's face, thumb running along his cheekbone."Take good care of yourself, if -" he licked his lips, glancing toward the house, "if you ever need a family to come back to," he nodded, "we'll be here."
"Sam you have my number. I am not dropping off the face of the earth. I'm not dropping out of your life." What he saw mirrored back at him was only doubt. It made him angry, and sad, and he didn't understand it. Leaning in, he kissed Sam, almost savagely, trying to make him see, make him know the truth. Yeah he would miss him, miss his kisses, miss his company. God, he'd miss not feeling that certain look... the one that bordered on obsession, the one Dean loved to tease out of Sam, just by letting him get a glimps of something that would hold his attention, or by licking his lips too often. "Need you to believe in me," he said at last, pulling away, eyes stinging, which was ridiculous because he wasn't planning on being gone long.
Sam gave a small nod, taking a step back ward toward the house, his hand dropping away from Dean. "I'll," he hung his head then lifted it, jaw clenched as tears stung his eyes. "I'll see ya around then." He gave another nod, then turned on the balls of his feett toward the house. In the next breath, Sam was gone, the front door closing slowly behind him a few moments later.
* * *
Time passed slowly for Sam, each day seemed to drag by now that his mate was gone, never to return. He'd closed himself off from his family, barely speaking to any of them anymore as he sat up in his room. Everything that Dean had touched, each article of clothing, blanket, anything with his scent on it, Sam seemed to obsess on.
Walking through his room his fingertips trailed along his television set as he thought of Dean watching TV and laughing. A few moments later the TV lay in shambles on the floor of his bedroom, the pain too fresh, the sight of the television taunting, a haunting reminder of what he had lost, what he never really had.
A few days ago, when Sam had found the t-shirt that Dean had worn last missing from his room, he had torn through the house in search of it, tearing apart the place in the process. It had taken Jasper's calming abilities and Emmett holding Sam back to get him to stop wrecking the house. Finding that Esme had washed the shirt had Sam's knees buckling out from under him, his body slipping to the floor in defeat. Another part of Dean that he had lost. Something else he would never have back.
At twilight, Sam clung to the items that remained, curling in the blanket that Dean used, the one that he had bought for him. He laid out in the yard, fighting, fighting so hard against his nature, his need to go find his mate and force him back, to not care what promises he had made, only caring about easing the ache in his dead heart.
Finally, nearly three weeks later, the desire to track Dean down and bring him back had gotten so strong and Sam's emotions were in such turmoil that he had begged his family to lock him in the cage in the basement. There, curled on his side on the floor, the blanket wrapped around him, Sam gave himself over to the near madness that had set in.
* * *
In his time away from Sam, traveling across the country the way he used to, Dean learned a lot of things.
For one thing, he really wasn't human. While he could pretend and fool a lot of people, he couldn't fool hunters who'd known him. After having had to hurt three hunters, he stopped trying to look up old friends. He had to be dead to them, or he might be their death.
For another thing, he really was vampire. The words 'love' and 'mate' were different when applied to vampires, they had to be. He'd had girlfriends and had no trouble leaving 'em behind for weeks, he hadn't thought he would have this much trouble leaving Sam behind. Sure he'd expected he'd miss him. But missing him was one thing... missing him like a part of his body had been cut out, that was another.
A loneliness, one not born out of his inability to mix with hunters because he'd never really done much of that, haunted him. Every single day it ate at his soul, this deep seated need to see Sam, to hear his voice, to feel his hands on him, to breathe in his scent, to taste his lips, his skin, to prove to himself again and again that there was someone out there that belonged only to him. He'd been planning to be away for a month, and then to go back to forks, get a motel room, and then go in to see Sam. To try to maybe show Sam that they could go out, be a normal couple, with neither of them freaking out if the other wasn't around.
So much for plans. Three weeks later, he was pounding at the Cullen's front door and asking for Sam. When he was told Sam was in the basement, he felt a jealous burst of anger. Who else did Sam have down there?
He managed to beat down his emotions and headed to the door that took him down the stairs to where he'd had some of the worst and best moments of his life. "Sam?" When he approached the cage, he tried the door, then leaned his forehead against the bars.
"What are you doing in there. Sam?" He could see Sam curled up much the way Dean had been in that same spot, with a blanket on him. "C'mere."
Insanity. That's what it was, it was why he was hearing Dean's voice now, why he was smelling his phantom scent, why he was almost sure that if he opened his eyes, he would see Dean standing there. Sam huffed softly at himself. He would see Dean standing there only to have the image slowly dissolve away as it had hundreds of times before. As it did every time he stroked himself to completion, Dean's blanket thrown over his nose and mouth, inhaling his scent.
Sam's body moved slightly as he curled in on himself more, his grip on the blanket tightening. "S'not real," Sam whispered to himself, head shaking slightly, a soft wounded sound breaking from his throat, eyes squeezing shut more tightly.
Dean flashed back on images of Sam smelling the blanket, his shirt, sniffing it for his scent. Every muscle in his stomach tightened and his jeans started to feel too snug at his groin. "I smell better than that blanket. Taste better too, and I promise not to leave fuzz balls in your mouth," he said, voice a little hoarse. "C'mere, Sam."
Sam slowly turned his head, lashes fluttering. If the mirage was going to stand there taunting him, he might as well hurry up and look at it, so it could disappear and Sam could go back to his quiet nothingness again. Opening his eyes slowly, Sam's lips slowly curved into a smile as he looked at Dean. "Still so beautiful," he murmured softly, as a tear ran down his cheek, across the bridge of his nose, falling onto the blanket under his head.
"Still yours," he answered, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
A soft harsh chuckle broke from Sam's lips, before he rolled over onto his back, sniffling softly. "You're not real," Sam muttered quietly as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Hurry up and disintegrate into nothingness for me, 'kay? This hurts too much."
"I'm real...come lemme show you," he looked around. "Where are the fucking keys? I'm real Sam, kiss me," he crouched down, putting his arm through the bars. "Take my hand, baby. Tell you what, you take my hand and I'll give you the best damned blow job you've ever had. All that time apart... I got all these ideas in my head."
Sam's eyes opened to stare at the hand that the illusionary image offered. Knowing it would simply break away and vanish as soon as he got close to it, but needing to try. Sam slowly raised a hand, reaching out toward Dean, too far away from the bars to completely grasp it. Fingertips brushed and slid together, curling around Dean's, holding. Sam sucked in a ragged breath, eyes widening as he rolled over onto his stomach, pulling up to his knees and one hand. Moving across the floor, Sam made his way over to the bars, his hand sliding more into Dean's as he moved, until they were holding hands fully and Sam's face was near the bars. He swallowed hard, eyes closing briefly, another tear sliding down his cheek, before Sam opened his eyes, golden hazel locking with golden green, "Dean?"
"I told you I'd be back." Dean's gaze moved hungrily over Sam's face. Pushing his other hand through the bars, he hooked his finger over Sam's collar, and dragged him up against the bars. Aiming carefully, he kissed away the tear, then slid his mouth over Sam's, tasting the salty tears, and Sam. God he'd missed him. Moving his hand through another bar, he cupped the back of Sam's head, moving his mouth back and forth. "Missed you... harder than I thought. Love you Sam, love you like whoa."
Yes, Dean had said he would be back, but Sam had never believed it. Had thought it was another lie in Dean's bid for freedom, had resigned himself to the fact. He would never see Dean again, and the fact had nearly killed him, or at least driven him mad. As Dean kissed away his tear and moved over his mouth, Sam gave a soft moan. His dead heart ached, but this time, it was almost a good ache. Joy at seeing his mate again so much that Sam had to fight back the need to shed more damn tears.
Sam chuckled through the emotions nearly choking him, his smile so wide that his dimples showed, love in his eyes as he looked at Dean. "Love me?" he sniffled, "yeah?" he reached through the bars, cupping Dean's neck and pulling him in to brush his lips across his mates once more. "God I've missed you so much." Sam whispered, breath fanning Dean's lips, the tender flesh of them brushing against Dean's as he spoke.
"Me too." He kissed Sam. "Know what you mean now. How it feels... when you have a mate... hurts to be alone," he nodded, kissing him again. "Don't want to leave you Sam, not ever. Not more than a few hours, maybe a day or so. Need you... in my life, every day." The words spilled from Dean's mouth far easier than he thought they would.
Sam sucked in a ragged breath, "Really?"
"Swear. I swear Sam." He stared intently into Sam's eyes. "Do I need to break you out of there?"
Sam's eyes widened, "No!" he blew out a breath, then smiled slightly, "I don't, uh, allow anything of yours to be broken or, um," he hung his head, looking slightly embarrassed, "washed." Sam gave a small cough, peeking up at Dean from under his brows. "Besides, it's pretty tough stuff, I don't know if you could break it actually," he pressed his lips together and raised his head, looking past Dean at the far wall, "the keys are hanging on the wall over there." Sam jutted his chin toward them, his gaze meeting Dean's again, "I had to lock myself in here so that I could keep my promise."
Dean swallowed. Sam was on the other side of those bars, reminding him of the time he'd asked how Sam would feel if their circumstances were reversed. "You're still obsessed." One hand gripping the bar, he closed his eyes. "Tell me why I find that so hot. I shouldn't."
Sam gave a small nod, "Guess so." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Why shouldn't it be? You're thinking like a human again, not a vampire."
"Yeah..." Dean gave a shaky laugh and stepped away, returning with the key.
Sam pulled to his feet as he watched Dean walk across the room, then back.
A moment later, Dean had the door open and was stepping inside, head cocked to one side as he took the last step so their mouths slanted unerringly across each others'. This time there were no bars separating them and Dean took full advantage, pressing himself up against Sam's hard frame, hands on his hips, tongue desperately moving in and out of his lover's... his mate's... mouth.
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, kissing him hard, giving as good as he got, moaning into the kiss, clinging to his love, his mate. Slowly pulling his head back, his nostrils flared as he at looked at Dean, smelling another's scent on him.
"We, you and I need to talk." Sam told Dean tightly, the scent coming from Dean making itself more and more a problem for Sam. Vampires were possessive, not liking anyone else to touch what was theirs. The fact that someone had, in fact, touched Dean in some way, was a problem. A very big problem.
"I figured there would be talking," Dean nodded, eyes locked with Sam's, a bit surprised they were gonna do this before they had welcome back sex. "I said we're together, I meant it. We'll figure out how... how its gonna work, but you promised freedom and I'm keeping that. I walk in and out like I want." He might love this vampire, and he might even find his obsession sexy, but he had to lay down ground rules for their future.
Sam nodded, "What I have to say has nothing to do with locked doors or guards... but it is..." Sam pressed his lips together eyeing Dean, "important. Very important," Sam told him, eyes slowly darkening, even as he stood gazing into Dean's eyes.
"Where do you want to talk?"
"My room," Sam nearly ground out as images of someone else touching what was his danced in his mind.
Dean licked his lips as he passed Sam, giving him a sidelong glance. "You alright? You seem a bit... tense. Look if it's about me leaving..."
Sam's narrowed eyes followed Dean. "This really should wait for my room."
Heading up the stairs and to the hall, Dean followed Sam to the stairs off the family room, leading to the bedrooms.
Sam motioned for Dean to lead the way up the stairs before looking back over his shoulder. "No one comes to my room until after tomorrow," Sam ground out, before following after Dean.
"What..." he turned back, but seeing the forbidding look on Sam's face and knowing how implacable he could be, Dean bit down on his questions and just marched up the stairs and into Sam's bedroom. Once inside, he went to lean against book shelf, trying to appear casual.
Sam entered his room closing and locking the door behind him before turning to look at Dean. He stood there for half a minute, then with vampire speed, was on Dean, slamming him back against the wall, his body pressed close, face inches away from Dean's as he breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring. "Who touched you?" Sam asked through gritted teeth, "And don't lie to me, I can smell their stink all over you."
Sure, Sam knew Dean was just as strong as he was, could fight back. But this wasn't about fighting, it wasn't about who was stronger, it was about a vampire and his mate and the possessiveness that ran through every vampire's veins. About Sam's need to know and to teach Dean who he belonged to.
"What?" Dean's eyes widened at the question from out of left field. Sam was crowding him, and there wasn't a hint of mirth in his expression. Sensing Sam's dangerous mood, he didn't shove him back or crack a joke. "I haven't been with anyone. I only thought about you, there's no one else for me now."
Sam snarled, eyes inky black, "I told you not to lie to me, someone touched you," he leaned his head in, his face against Dean's neck as he inhaled, "I can smell them," Sam grabbed Dean's wrists and raised them, pressing them against the wall as he inserted his thigh between Dean's and pressed in. "Who were they? What did they mean to you?" Sam demanded, breath fanning over the delicate skin of Dean's neck, tongue darting out to run slowly up against his skin.
"What the fuck, dude..." Dean held an unneeded breath as Sam's thigh brushed against his cock, then pressed. He searched his face again, trying to decide what the hell Sam was getting at. That predatory stance of his was starting to worry Dean a little, not to mention getting him hot at an inopportune moment. "I don't know what you're talking about, I just told you... I haven't fucking slept with anyone, okay?" The intensity of Sam's inspection was making him tense... like something was about to break, only he had no idea why. He pulled his wrists up from the wall, but let them bang back against it, "cut it out, Sam. We're not back there again. We're not playing prisoner and guard, not unless I say."
Sam pulled his head up, shaking it slowly. "Not prisoner, Dean, mate, you're mine and I don't like someone else's stink on you. I never said you slept with someone," Sam's expression went deadly as he spoke those words, before easing slightly. If Sam had thought that Dean had actually slept with someone else, all bets would be off and someone would be dying. "Someone touched you in some way...." Sam took a deep breath in again and bared his fangs, "And I'm gonna get their smell off of you."
"Touched me... Lots of people touch me, Sam," he leaned away from Sam's fangs. "You've got to be kidding me." He sucked his breath in as Sam leaned in even closer, his eyes glazed. "Sam?"
Sam's mouth descended on Dean's collarbone, as he tugged his shirts to the side, stretching the neck of the tee and making his over shirt nearly fall off a shoulder. His mouth latched onto the bone sucking and nipping gently, tongue running over the skin, then sucking hard again as a low growl sounding deep in his throat.
Despite the manhandling, a groan slipped out of Dean. "Sam..." he felt shaky on the inside, and it had nothing to do with any inability to stop his mate, if he wanted to.
Pulling his head up, Sam shook it slowly. "Not brushed you, not took something from your hand, had their arms on you, had their body pressed to yours, I can smell too much for it to be less." His lips curled baring fang, "DON'T," the single word was bit out harshly "ever do it again."
"I..." Dean jerked back slightly at the vehemence and threat in Sam's voice, searching his mind. Remembering, he let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Sam, an old friend... he just gave me a hug. You know, like this." Putting a now freed arm over Sam's shoulder, he slugged him on the back a couple times. "No bid deal... seriously overkill with the jealousy here. Guy's like eighty."
Sam's lips turned up into a smile, but it was a dangerous one. "Then you won't mind losing his scent," Sam told him, as he all but started to rip Dean's clothes from his body, tugging open the button of his jeans and parting the zipper, just by grabbing two sides of the denim and yanking. He moved his hand to pull Dean's over shirt down one arm, his tee up his chest as his hand on Dean's jeans made it's way under the denim and the cotton of Dean's boxers to cup him, slowly stroking as coal black eyes gazed into green.
"He didn't touch me there," Dean's head snapped back, partly from how quickly Sam moved to undress him and partly because of the sudden pleasure coursing through him. He gripped Sam's hips, biting his lip as Sam cupped and stroked him, quickly getting him hard and heavy. His breaths panted out, he watched Sam's face, knowing something was still going on behind that strong, handsome face... something that maybe he should be careful about. "Sam... oh fuck... Sam," he tugged him closer. Sam's eyes seemed glazed over, with that same obsessed look he got once in a while. "Don't be angry... I came back. I want only you, only you Sam."
Sam's lips turned upward a bit more, a small low snarl working out of him before he leaned in and slanted his mouth over Dean's kissing him hard, tongue delving deep into his mouth, mapping him out, tangling with Dean's then fucking his mouth with his tongue hard and fast, his body pressed up against Dean's as his hand stoked Dean under his boxers.
Pulling his head back, Sam leaned in, his lips at Dean's neck, slid slowly over the sensitive flesh, fangs dragging lightly. "That's what I'm gonna do to you now, what my tongue did to your mouth. I'm gonna fuck you and get rid of his stink from you. When I'm done," he pressed his lips to Dean's throat, "everyone, vampire and human, will know you're mine." Sam told him softly.
Dean was still reeling from the sensations sweeping his body, his mouth burning, his cock aching, need coiling low in his belly, when Sam made his pronouncement. His breath hitched. "I think they already know that, Sam," he said, swaying close. "Kiss me. Fuck me... like you did my mouth. I'm yours, I know that now. You know it too Sam." Licking his lips, he crushed them against Sam's, his arms closing around his lover's waist, holding him tight, rubbing against him.
Sam pulled his hand out of Dean's jeans as he moved to wrap his arms around him, one hand going to the back of Dean's head, the other flat and splayed in the center of Dean's back. He turned them and backed Dean toward the lounge, all the while they kissed hungrily, passionately, Sam's tongue plundering Dean's mouth, his fangs scraping the tender flesh of his lips.
When the back of Dean's legs hit the lounge, Sam pressed him back, going down with him, their lips parting as their controlled fall ended. Sam dipped his head, sucking the tender flesh of Dean's neck into his mouth hard enough to bruise as his teeth ached and blood pounded in his temples.
"Mmm, yeah..." Dean muttered, doing some exploring of his own, groping his lover, rubbing his mouth on him where he could, lifting his hips to get a bit of contact with his body. "Missed you... God Sam, I fuckin' missed you."
Pulling a hand out from under Dean, Sam shoved down on his jeans, wanting them off Dean, wanting him naked under him. His hand shoved at one side then the other as his other hand stayed, cupping the back of Dean's head, his lips at his throat, his neck, before finally, Sam pulled his other hand out and sat back, straddling Dean's thighs, pulling his jeans down as he backed up. "Off, now," he looked up at Dea., "Shirts too, take them off, I want you naked under me, want to feel you."
Protesting the sudden loss of Sam on top of him, Sam's words got through to him. "You too... naked," he demanded, pushing up on his elbows and peeling his shirt off, then tugging his tee up over his head. He was stripped in no time, and reaching for Sam, needing him.
They were both undressed in no time and Sam was already crawling up his body. "What was that you said about fucking me?" Dean asked, rubbing himself up against Sam, closing his arms around him, dragging him down. "Show me," he demanded, crushing his mouth against Sam's, pushing his tongue inside and reminding him exactly how he'd promised to fuck him.
Sam groaned deep in his throat as he kissed Dean, thrusting against him and making their cocks slide together, grinding against him as his hands slid down and up Dean's sides, then to went to each side of his face. He moved Dean's head from side to side, deepening the kiss, teeth clanking, fingers threading through Dean's short hair. At the kiss heated up, Sam reached for Dean's hands, lacing their fingers together. He tore his lips away from Dean's and started to kiss a trail down his jaw, his neck and chest, making his way slowly lower as he worked his mouth over Dean's flesh, giving open mouthed kissing, his tongue darting out to flick and lick at certain areas before going lower.
"Yeah... fuck yeah," Dean groaned, lifting his body first this way, then the other, pressing himself up against Sam's mouth. With each touch of his wet tongue and mouth, Sam left scorching trails down Dean's body. "Good Sam... so good," he muttered, moving his head from side to side. His fingers clenched and unclenched around Sam's. "Baby... missed this so fucking bad. Don't know what I did before you... just know, I can't live without this... without you..." When Sam's tongue dipped inside his belly button, that was it... Dean couldn't string any more words together.
Sam glanced up at Dean's face from under his brows, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sucked the tender flesh around Dean's belly button into his mouth. He slowly worked his way lower, sliding between Dean's legs, laying on his stomach as he wrapped his hand around Dean's hard cock and ran his tongue up the underside, then swirled it around his tip. Sam's teeth ached, his blood pounded in his temples, low groans broke from his throat as he lapped at Dean's cock, finally opening his mouth wide and taking him deep, curling his lips in over his teeth, careful to avoid contact with his fangs.
Dean moaned and writhed, reaching out, touching Sam everywhere he could as he was licked, and teased and touched until he thought he was going out of his mind with need. Sam played his body like an instrument, like he knew where all his sensitive spots were, and made sure to pay attention to them. By the time he got to his cock, Dean was a mess of nerves. "Oh God yeah," he lifted, fucking Sam's fist and rubbing himself harder against Sam's mouth.
Pulling his head back, Sam worked Dean's spit-slick cock with his hand as he kissed Dean's hip and groin, his thumb running across the sensitive tip of Dean's cock as Sam pressed his tongue to his balls, giving them as much attention as he could with his mouth while working his cock with his hand.
Dean was rock hard and hurting with need. His sense of smell was sharper, he could smell Sam... could smell his arousal, and it was killing him, making his temples pound. And his teeth... God ... they ached. "S... Sam... my fangs, they're..." before he could finish talking, the razor sharp teeth cut the corner of Sam's mouth and suddenly Dean had his hand behind Sam's head, aggressively holding him in place as he sucked the area free of blood and moaned with desire for more.
Sam's lips parted as he held still, letting Dean suck his lip free of blood, his breaths panted out, eyes open to mere slits as he looked at his mate a soft half chuckle working out of him as he smiled almost drunkenly. "So good, baby... So good..." Sam leaned in, crushing his mouth to Dean's, kissing him hard.
Pulling his head back, Sam leaned in once again, his mouth against Dean's throat, licking a path to his ear. "Bite me, s'okay," Sam told him softly before dipping his head and nipping Dean's neck, just enough to make blood pool to the surface before latching his mouth on and sucking the coppery crimson fluid away. Through it all, Sam's hand pumped Dean's cock mercilously, wrist pivoting. His own cock achingly hard, begged for attention.
An unholy groan broke from Dean as Sam drank from him, showing him this was normal, that it was good, that they could do this during sex... they never had before, but Sam had been sheltering him from blood when he'd first turned. Now he knew why. The scent of their blood was wreaking havoc with his senses, building his need, and he was so fucking confused about whether it was blood he was lusting after or Sam's body. He was thrusting mindlessly into Sam's fist, his mouth skimming the the side of Sam's neck, trying to decide what he wanted, where he needed to drink from.
Dean licked a path along Sam's collarbone, to his shoulder, pressing his fangs against it, piercing his flesh. Rivulets of coppery blood flowed down Sam's alabaster skin, with Dean moving his head to catch the flow, licking it clean and then sucking on the wound. His hands explored Sam's body, brushing over Sam's cock, then returning. He closed a fist around Sam's hard length and started to pump him, groaning when his lover got impossibly harder.
Sam's mouth tore from Dean's neck in an audible gasping of breath, a low long groan spilling from his lips at the feel of his love, his mate biting, drinking from him. "Oh God, s'hot, baby... feel so good..." Sam told him softly, hips bucking his aching erection into Dean's fist, his breaths panting air against Dean's throat, before Sam lowered his head once more, lapping at the crimson ribbons as they started to slide down Dean's smooth skin.
As bloodlust twined around his bodily needs, Dean closed his eyes and mindlessly thrust into Sam's fist, fucking it harder and harder, as his mouth stayed glued to Sam's shoulder. The lust for blood ... Sam's... was so strong, Dean wasn't sure he could control it. The more he coaxed out of the flesh wound, using his tongue and sucking, the more intense his need grew. Hot? He wanted hotter. Wanted an inferno. Would get it.
Growling, he reversed their positions so Sam was under him, mouth never leaving his shoulder, and not taking no for an answer. He pushed back onto his knees and he looked down at Sam, noting the heat in his lover's eyes, his gaze drawn by the sight of scarlet blood at the corner of his mouth and now on his shoulder. "Gonna mark you up," he said thickly, not knowing where those words ... where that need came from, only that it welled up inside him, and could not be fought.
Sam swallowed, teeth and cock aching. Eyes closing briefly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, a low moan sounding deep in his throat at the taste of Dean's blood that remained. Eyes once more locking with Dean's, Sam gave a small nod, arching toward him, reaching for his love.
Lowering himself down over Sam, he pushed his hands away and dragged his razor sharp fangs across his chest, over his heart. He made another cut right below it, groaning at the sight of red over white skin. Smiling, but not 'quite there'... he lowered his head and started licking and sucking Sam's skin free of scarlet.
Sam's lips parted on a gasped sigh, panted breaths catching at the feel of Dean's fangs on his flesh, his mouth latching on, sucking, drinking his blood. Sam's hips bucked up, a low groan tearing from his throat, one hand reaching upward, digits sinking into the soft short strands of Dean's hair, tangling. "Mm, God, yeah..." Sam panted softly, breathlessly.
The motions of Sam's body under him renewed Dean's need. Pushing his knees under Sam's thighs spread wide, he started to fuck against him, thrusting, grinding their cocks together, feeding the flames of his desire, drinking Sam's sweet blood. Needing more, demanding it, he sank his teeth inside Sam's chest this time, lapping at him, wanting him with every cell in his body, his mind a red haze of erotic thoughts and images, drawing him deeper and deeper, until the world around him disappeared and he no longer knew even his own name. This was addiction. This was obsession. This was frenzy.
Sam's chest rose and fell with each breath, head rising from the pillows to lick at the already nearly healed wound at Dean's throat, sucking the flesh into his mouth, hips thrusting up against Dean's, low groans and moans breathing from his throat.
Wrapping his arms around Dean's body, Sam started to roll them, only to have Dean push back, halting his efforts. Sam wiggled under him, hips bucking, sliding against Dean, arching as he offered his blood a moment longer before once more struggling to roll them, a low groaned growl tearing from his throat. Pressing his body in between Dean's legs, he thrust hard against him, making their cocks slid together. Sam dipped his head, mouth slanting over Dean's, kissing him hard, hungrily. Moaning into the kiss as tongues tangled and teeth knocked together, his hands running along Dean's sides, across his flesh, fingertips digging into his flesh.
"Sonova..." Dean cursed as he found himself on his back, his mouth covered by Sam's... and away from his blood source. His temples were pounding with need, his eyes dark as night, a hunger was building inside him with the fury of a hundred storms. "Need. Sam. Need, now!" he managed, arching practically off the lounge as he bucked up against his lover, trying to get as close as he could.
Sam's lips slid down Dean's chin to his jaw, open mouthed kisses against his skin, dipping downward toward Dean's neck before Sam picked his head up, dark eyes gazing into dark. "Yeah, need you..." Sam told him, nodding slowly.
Pulling back, Sam kneeling between Dean's legs, hands running slowly down his thighs, his gaze still locked with Dean's before he tore it away and dipped his head, razer sharp fangs against the delicate skin between Dean's groin, thigh and hip as Sam held onto his hipbone, thumb rubbing small circles around the tender flesh as he ran his tongue along the thin line of scarlet, licking away the sting, the blood, lips closing over the wound, a low groan tearing from his throat.
Pulling back, Sam looked up into Dean's face, tongue darting out to lick his lips, "Roll over for me."
The sharp pain brought Dean back, and now the sight of Sam with lips painted with his blood almost had him coming right there. As he sat up, he licked Sam from his belly up to the wounds closing over his heart, kissing him... licking his own blood off Sam's lips, before doing as he asked. On his hands and knees, he pushed backwards, rubbing his ass over Sam's groin, giving a low moan as he felt how hard Sam was against his bare flesh.
Sam groaned as his hands found their way to Dean's hips, pulling him against him, his aching cock at the cleft of Dean's ass, sliding, nudging at his opening. Sam's head tilted back, lips parting on a moan as he teased them both. Slowly raising his head, Sam moved one hand to his own cock, pumping himself a few times, before aligning the blunt tip up with Dean's tight hole and thrusting in deep in one stroke. "Naauugh! Fuck!" Sam panted in a few breaths, head hanging, "So tight, baby... so good..." he told Dean breathlessly, leaning over him, forehead nearly against Dean's back, long bangs tickling his skin.
Blinding pain had Dean grunting, arms almost buckling under his weight. And then he held still, adjusting to having Sam buried to the hilt inside him, splitting him, filling him up. He screwing his eyes shut, he clenched around Sam's thick cock, sensing how badly his lover want to fuck, how much control it took for him to simply wait. He swallowed, "yeah ... good... go." He pulled forward slightly, then slammed back against Sam, his head rearing up, "Go! Fuck me!"
Sam moved his hand back to Dean's hip as he pulled his head up, both hands grasping the flesh near Dean's hipbones in a bruising grip as Sam pulled his hips back, pulling nearly out of Dean, then slamming back in, and repeating. After a moment, Sam got a rhythm going as he leaned over Dean, one hand sliding off Dean's hip, reaching around him to wrap around Dean's cock, stroking him in time with his movements. "S'good, baby..." Sam told him breathlessly against Dean's neck, mouth opening to suck the tender flesh into his mouth hard, teeth scraping.
As Sam took complete control, invading him again and again, blanketing him completely and claiming him as his, Dean whimpered his pleasure. He loved that Sam didn't hesitate... that he was so fucking confident... decisive. The way Sam surged into him, over and over, making him burn and ache, branding him with that powerful body of his, with each stroke letting Dean know the extent of his hunger, making him understand what it meant to be 'taken.' There was no doubt about it, Sam was taking him, claiming him, and Dean fucking liked it. "Yeah... yeah baby, more, more," he cried out, fucking Sam's fist, and turning his head, trying to kiss his lover.
Sam closed his eyes tight as he buried his face against Dean's neck, thrusting hard into him. Pulling his head back as Dean turned, he kissed Dean back, tongues tangling outside of their mouths, miss hitting, then lips messily connecting with lips as their tongues dueled. Each of Sam's moans and groans were swallowed up in their kisses as they devoured one another.
Moving his free hand, wrapping an arm around Dean, Sam pulled them back so that Dean was nearly sitting on his lap as he fucked up into him, his hand never losing it's rhythm on Dean's cock.
Leaning back against Sam's chest, Dean reached behind him, hand sliding up and down Sam's side, fingers biting into his flesh each time Sam slammed into him. "Fuck... fuck... fuck... so good," he chanted, raising and lower his body, using his weight to come down over Sam's rock hard cock, clenching to give his lover maximum pressure. His movements started growing wilder, his kisses messier, the pressure building low in his belly. He started gyrating his hips in circles, grinding down over Sam, sounds breaking from the back of his throat, swallowed by Sam's mouth. So hot... it was so fucking hot.
Sam thrust his hips harder, driving his cock deeper inside Dean with each thrust, there was no doubt, if Dean wasn't changed into a vampire, he'd be feeling this for a while. Gritting his teeth, Sam groaned as his head fell back, lips parting as he panted out his breaths.
Dean groaned with pleasure and pain, but refused to ask him to gentle his movements. Sam could be all predator, and maybe it was masochistic or something, but it turned Dean on, knowing Sam wanted him that bad. He clenched around Sam's cock, rolling his head back as Sam filled him again and again, branding him from the inside. "Good... good... oh God..." White hot heat lanced through Dean. "Ungh.... Sam.... please. Oh God..."
Sam squeezed his eyes closed as heat spiraled through him to settle low in his belly, his orgasm drawing close, so fucking close. Sam chased it with hard thrusts, growling low in his throat. "Oh God... Dean..." His head lowered, leaning in he kissed Dean's lips messily, his cheeks, his jaw, before biting his own lip as his balls drew up tight, "Oh fuck! Dean!" Sam's body tensed as his thrusts became erratic. His breath left him in a growled gasp as he started to cum hot and hard, filling Dean's ass. "Oh God.... oh fuck... baby, so good..." his breaths panted out like he were human, like he'd over exerted himself running, his chest rising and falling heavily.
Body locked with Sam's, moving as wildly as his lover clenching his ass, gripping... tightening around Sam's thick hardness, surrounded by him, by his scent, by his labored breaths, Dean arched back against him. Sam's name suddenly tore from the back of his throat, his only warning as he threw his head back, and kept fucking into his lovers fist. Liquid heat splattered against his stomach, smearing and coating Sam's hand as Dean came so fucking hard he thought he might die.
Sam's head fell forward, lips brushing against Dean's shoulder as he sighed softly, "S' good. Missed you so much."
"Me too, Sam. Me too." Swallowing, he rested a while like that, then slowly pulled up off Sam's lap and kneeling in front of him, closed his arms around Sam, pulling him flush against his body and kissing him softly, with all the love in his heart. "I think we need a bed in here. If... you know, I'm moving in. Just need a corner of your closet for my stuff," he chuckled, but was a little nervous.
Sam drew his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked at Dean, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile that showed his dimples. Releasing his lip, Sam licked them, "Yeah?" Sam asked, daring to hope, to believe.
Wrapping his arms around Dean, he nodded, "You can have anything you want. Bed, closet, my tub with bubbles," he smirked softly, "whatever you want," Sam repeated, voice soft.
"Tub with bubbles, that clinches the deal," Dean grinned, kissing him again lightly. "Oh... I need you to promise me one thing."
Sam raised his brows, "What's that?"
"Mind blowing sex every time I touch someone." His eyes were filled with mischief. "I hear there are a lot of people in town who like to give hugs."
Sam's entire body went rigid, eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't do that. I'm very possessive," he told Dean, a warning in his tone, "But," he continued more lightheartedly, "I can see about the 'mind blowing sex' part."
"I'm counting on it." Wrestling Sam down to the lounge, he started to maul him. "Best thing about being a vampire? No waiting... we got three weeks to make up for, now... get it up," he said, his hand cupping Sam's cock as he lowered his mouth over his mate's.
Sam arched his hips up into Dean's hand a low groan spilling from his lips. "I would say that I had created a monster, but it's likely a tad too cliche." Sam tried to joke, before he was gritting his teeth against a loud low groan, hips bucking, body squirming under Dean's. "Holy fuck..."
* * *
[One Month Later]
Dean couldn't believe Sam had dragged him to a fucking play. But here he was, at a cultural event, in the heart of Seattle, dressed in a tailored black suit that put all of the suits he'd ever worn as part of his disguises to shame. Not that he thought that the money Sam spent on the suit was worth it. Still, he did look damned good in it, if the way Sam kept looking at him was something to go on.
The lights had come on for intermission and they were now in the large bar area in the foyer, for a short interval. Well he was all for drinking and had ordered a beer even though most people were holding wine glasses in their hands. "I never thought there would be naked people in a play," he told Sam. His idea of plays had been stuffy old stories, or sappy musicals. This was 'almost' porn, even if the audience wanted to make it seem like 'literature.' Literature his ass.
Sam smiled at him, as he stood holding onto a glass of champagne which he wouldn't drink. "See what you've been missing?" he winked at him.
Dean chuckled, raised the bottle and took a sip. It was foul, but he was gonna damned well get used to it. Just like he was gonna learn to like pie again. Those were two things he wouldn't give up for anything. "With you in my bed... I don't think I'm missing anything." He let his gaze travel down the length of Sam's body, swallowing hard as he wondered if he'd ever get tired of making love to a single lover. No... he knew the answer in his heart, it was just that he had trouble understanding how he could want one person so damned much. "Can we fuck in the woods again?" he asked, so low that no one else would hear them. "I want it up against a tree."
Sam chuckled, and managed to look slightly embarrassed. "I," he licked his lips, "hadn't been exactly planning on the last time, but," he smirked, "weather permitting, so certain things aren't glitteringly obvious, I'd like that," he told Dean as he took a step closer and leaned in like he was whispering a secret, only to run his tongue along Dean's neck instead.
A sound welled up in Dean's throat. "I meant on the way home," he whispered, closing his eyes. He wanted to kiss Sam, but his lover pulled away, and Dean realized this wasn't really the place for it even if for years he'd said the only men that went to plays were gay. Okay that was a brain teaser he wasn't gonna try to unravel.
They chatted a while, then a well dressed woman in 'come fuck me' heels walked over to them. "Where do I know you from?" she asked him.
Dean cocked his head, looking her over. "I think you got the wrong guy."
Sam's attention was suddenly laser focused on the woman talking to his mate, his smile having fallen competley away, his eyes narrowing and darkening as he watched her.
"Oh come on now, I know I know you. Muscular, handsome," she reached a hand out to run up Dean's arm, "well dressed," she pressed her lips together as though in thought as she tilted her head, eyeing Dean.
A low growl sounded deep in Sam's throat.
"All that, huh?" Dean grinned, "I still don't think we've met, I'd remember. I have a good memory." To head off any additional snarling, he introduced his lover. "This is Sam, I'm Dean, and you are...?"
"Free after the play." She told Dean with an unmistakable look in her eyes as she let her gaze travel up and down his form.
Sam stepped forward, reaching a hand out to place on the woman's shoulder as he backed her away from Dean, and into a corner before he dropped his hand away. "He says he doesn't know you, now get lost." Sam growled, nearly snarling, his eyes an inky black. He flashed his fangs at her for good measure, before turning around to face Dean. "Don't, say anything," Sam told him, eyes narrowed.
Dean, who'd followed and was about to ask Sam to calm the hell down, dropped the hand he'd reached out with. Looking at the woman, he gestured with his head for her to leave. Then the lights were blinking, and people started to head back inside. Still Dean's eyes were locked with Sam's. "That was a little...over-reacty, Sam."
Sam's jaw was clenched as he looked at Dean. "No, a little over-reacty would have been had I drained her dry like I thought about doing," he answered, his voice low.
"She was harmless. Not like I would have gone anywhere with her, and you fucking know that." Though he was asking Sam to be reasonable, Dean couldn't help the slight elation he felt at Sam's possessiveness.
Sam shook his head slightly before he leaned in again and kissed Dean's neck, "Not the point. She was addressing what is mine," he pulled his head back, "in a manner I did not like. Think if it were reversed, how would you feel?"
He shivered slightly, wishing they were somewhere else. "I'm a confident man," Dean said nodding. "I know you're mine, just as much as I'm yours and there's nothing she could do to take you from me." Dean shrugged, "so I wouldn't care... I know who you're walking out those doors with."
A bell sounded, and it was the last call to get inside. They started to walk with some of the stragglers when a guy obviously checked out Sam's ass. Pushing Sam along, Dean made sure to stand right behind him and block the idiot's view. "Hurry, before it fucking starts," was all he said to Sam, his voice tight, as if his temper was barely reined in.
Sam glanced back at Dean and quirked a bro., "What? So now you like plays?" the corners of his lips quirking upward into an almost smile, as some of the tension from earlier left him. "And why are you walking back there?" Sam asked him, reaching a hand up to grab Dean and pull him up next to him.
"Because your ass is mine, only mine, that's why. Now shut up and walk." He glared at Sam, knowing what the other vampire was getting at. "I didn't show him my teeth."
Sam smirked and nodded, "Uh-huh, only because he didn't offer to polish my ass."
Dean's eyes darkened to inky black. Lips pressed together at that thought, he closed his hand around Sam's and tugged him to their seats. "Quiet, people are watching," he hissed as he sat down, daring Sam to say more.
Sam smiled at him. "I love you too," he whispered. Waiting until the lights lowered, Sam leaned in and brushed his lips across Dean's. "You're sexy when your jealous," he teased, winking at him, knowing Dean could see him clearly even in the near dark, before he turned his attention to the stage and the play, his hand resting near Dean's, their fingers overlapping.
(So... should we try for one more Twilight Xover or is this enough? And if yes, which of the boys should be the vamp?)