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Cabin Fever

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Summary: On a miserably cold and rainy day, Dean takes shelter in a cabin already occupied Spike. Spike/Dean slash

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Spike-Centered(Past Donor)CasFR18546,3912186,8577 Jun 1026 Jul 10Yes

Chapter 4

Dean knew exactly what Spike would do as William the Bloody. His death would be long and torturous, until he begged the vampire to just do it, to kill him. And William wouldn't. He'd keep up the torture until pain and perhaps even fear overwhelmed Dean and then maybe, just maybe, he'd finally kill Dean. Or worse, turn him.

Dean was silent for a long time. He let Spike read into that silence anything he wanted. What did it matter? He had no idea what Spike had in mind for him but he wasn't at all certain he would be walking out of here.

"I wouldn't let Sam come," he finally said. Sam wanted to at least be nearby, but they couldn't risk Spike catching his scent and Dean had refused. He thought he had it all under control. Spike. Himself. The situation. He will kick your ass, I don't care how good you think you are. Xander Harris' voice echoed in his mind. Dean was arrogant and he knew it. He had to have that confidence to pull the hustles he pulled, to lie to any authority figure, any civvie, anyone, and convince them he was whoever he needed to be at that moment. He had to be arrogant enough to have faith that he could take down any mean mother-fucker he faced. Sometimes that arrogance bit him in the ass. Like now.

"This was on me, something I had to do, alone." There were a lot of reasons he hadn't wanted his brother there, reasons he would never tell Sam. Licking his lips, Dean said matter of factly, "And I sure as hell didn't expect you to be able to get out of the devil's trap. How...?"

Spike's gaze clung to Dean's lips, the sight of his wet tongue sweeping across them making him want to take Dean's mouth all over again. "Didn't do enough research." Picking up a silver dagger, he brought it to Dean's throat, letting him feel the cool metal, then used the pointed tip to cut down the length of his tee shirt. Dropping the weapon, he used his hands to rip the material all the way down.

Dean's breath caught when he felt the metal edge against his throat. He relaxed only a little when the blade shifted away and he felt his t-shirt being cut open. The sudden exposure made his gut clench, wondering if he was going to feel the blade buried in his gut or maybe long shallow cuts along his chest. If Spike was still William, he would do that or worse.

Seeing Dean's stomach muscles tense, so did Spike's. "You're bloody gorgeous. Right... where were we? The trap doesn't work on me because I have a soul. Went through hell to get it so it best be useful for something. Give me your tongue."

"You have a soul?" Dean lifted his head as if he could see Spike, shocked by the news. There should just be the demon, but if Spike had a soul... "That's it. That's when you stopped drinking human blood? When you got yourself a human soul?" Dean asked, wondering if Spike having a soul changed anything, made him something...not evil. He had never wondered before if any of the evil he killed had a soul, but now he did. Dammit. What the hell was it about vampires? They put into question everything, shook his beliefs to their foundations again and again. They weren't real. Then they were real, but close to extinction. Crosses, stakes, sunlight, all that could do them in. Then they weren't like the lore, none of that bothered them. They were just evil animals. Then they loved one another, even mating for life. Some weren't evil, like Lenore and her nest hadn't been. Now, some were like the legends. And now they fucking had souls, too? It made his head hurt.

"Not quite, that was a bit earlier. Your tongue." He leaned in and ran his hands down Dean's bare chest, and brought one back up to cup the side of his throat and push his face to the side. "Soddin' hell, give me your tongue," he nearly growled. The instant Dean's tongue peeked out, Spike was on it. He sucked it into his mouth, kissing Dean hard as his hands possessively roamed over his body. This was what he'd wanted, been waiting for. His mouth against Dean's, Dean's taste, his scent in his nostrils, his hitched breaths sounding in his ears and sending Spike's lust into overdrive. Everything he wanted these days, but probably would never have again. So he'd take this moment and everything he could wring from it.

Dean could feel the way Spike wanted him, the way he kissed him, the way he caressed him. Denying his own needs was pointless he decided. If this was it, if Spike or William or whoever the hell he was going to kill him, then he damned well would make it a night worth dying for. He would take every pleasure Spike gave him and do the same for the vampire. He returned Spike's aggression and moaned into Spike's mouth, tugging uselessly at the unrelenting bindings. Dammit, he wanted to touch the vampire, to caress his hard body, to fuck him, or even be fucked by him. He didn't care, so long as they were in each other's arms this final night.

"Lemme go. Wanna touch you," Dean murmured when Spike gave him a moment's rest to catch his breath.

"Want you to touch me," Spike echoed, face buried in Dean's throat as he played his body like an instrument. One hand stroked Dean's belly, threatening to go lower, while with the other, he played with Dean's nipples until they were tight buds under his thumb. He loved how responsive Dean was, how his body thrashed toward his touch. He slid his hand lower, squeezing Dean's cock through his jeans, a sound breaking from him as Dean's cock immediately thickened. A similar groan escaped Dean.

"Yes," Dean whispered. "More..."

Kissing Dean one more time, he pulled away and, on his knees, walked around the chair to face Dean. Scooting in between Dean's open thighs, he dipped his head down and started to kiss Dean's stomach, sucking that tight flesh stretched over muscle into his mouth. "Mmm..." he made his way up and down Dean's chest, sure he'd never tire of the taste of this man.

Dean's stomach jerked back the moment he felt Spike's mouth on his abs but when he was confident it was only Spike's mouth and not that cold blade he arched and groaned under Spike's skillful attention. His cock ached to be touched again. His one hand that was merely cuffed allowed him to just barely touch Spike, outstretched fingers brushing over the fabric of the tight black t-shirt instead of the flesh he so wanted to feel under his fingers. That tease might have been worse than not touching Spike at all because it made him that much more needy and desperate.

Slowly, Spike's hand wandered lower again, over Dean's trapped cock. He squeezed and alternatively pressed the heel of his hand rhythmically. The urge to fuck was becoming stronger, almost unbearable, but he tried to keep his head, he needed it if Dean had more tricks up his sleeve.

The groans spilled out of Dean's mouth as Spike's constant pressure on and off his cock had his hips bucking. Dammit why did he have to wear such tight jeans? Between the hand fucking and Spike's mouth wandering over him, his cock was beginning to hurt, trapped as it was. Since it was all too obvious Spike had no intention of releasing him, and he had to admit he was surprised that being at Spike's mercy was kind of a turn on--assuming Spike didn't kill him of course-- he wanted more. He didn't just want more, he needed more. At that moment he needed Spike almost as much as he needed breathe.

"Eyehook," Dean gasped. "Ceiling, old chandelier hung there. Better," he practically lost his train of thought when Spike's mouth latched onto his nipple. "Ungh," he moaned. "Keys...oh fuck, Spike," he said bucking again at Spike's touch. "Keys to cuffs, in duffel. Please," he begged. If he couldn't touch Spike then he least wanted Spike to touch him. Everywhere.

Raising his head, Spike watched intently as Dean moved his head from side to side, begging and tugging at his bindings. Did he have any idea how much it turned Spike on? Just knowing Dean wasn't used to asking, that if he were free he'd probably punch him and try to get the upper hand, it filled Spike with a sense of power... the same power that Dean had over him. Each of them could drive the other to do things they would never do.

Using his knuckles, he traced the outline of Dean's mouth, then cheek, one finger sliding over the red bandanna covering Dean's eyes. Yeah, he would like Dean hanging from the light fixture with no chair in the way. Then he could touch him, have him any way he wanted. The image in his mind had his cock straining against his zipper and wanting out. He leaned in and whispered, "All right pet, but you try one of your hunter's tricks on me and you will meet William."

Spike's touch had Dean pulling away a little. God dammit he hated he couldn't see. He didn't like surprises. Never had. With Spike's threat Dean growled, his desires curbed a fraction at the reminder Spike held him prisoner but he gave a curt nod. "Yeah. No tricks," he said, his voice thick but sounding more like the hunter Dean Winchester, than the "I need you to fuck me" man who was writhing under Spike's attentions.

Dean knew the chandelier would hold his weight. He'd tested it earlier, telling himself it was just to make sure the thing wouldn't come tumbling down on him at an inopportune moment. He sure as hell refused to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, he'd done it to see if it would hold Spike's weight. The chandelier was on a chain and while it swung, it didn't have any sort of give in it. It was solid as hell in that ceiling.

He might have sounded like a hunter-held-prisoner, but Spike's warning was already fading right along with his will power. With desire coursing through Dean the only tricks he wanted to offer up was to rip off the bandanna and tackle Spike to the ground, maybe a few punches thrown in for good measure, but after that he would take Spike just like he had in the dreams he awoke from with a hard on from hell.

It might be stupid to keep throwing his history into the hunter's face, but Spike thought now that Dean knew, there would be no unringing that bell, no second chances. He wasn't like the scoobs, most hunters weren't. They were intractable in their convictions and Dean wasn't an exception. The fact that he'd fucked a vampire, any vampire, had him confused and ate him up on the inside... it was why he'd never called. And now... now that he knew how many Spike had killed... right, there was no coming back from that. Ever. So he might as well use his reputation to keep Dean in line, and a bit of fear could only enhance Dean's sense of powerlessness and allow the hunter a new experience, whether he wanted it or not.

Spike checked the chandelier, making certain it was as solid as Dean said and would not come down and set the hunter free. A few moments later, Spike easily dragged Dean and the chair under the wrought iron chandelier and cut Dean's legs and arm free of the rope. He told Dean to get up and moved the blade of the knife over his body, bringing it to his throat, to his back and to his belly, showing him the speed with which he could act if necessary. When he thought his message got through, he uncuffed the bracelet around the arm rest, pulled it up along with Dean's arm, and threaded it through the eyelet in the chandelier.

Dean didn't fight him on it. He still felt the lingering chill of that blade.

Cuffing Dean's other wrist, Spike stepped back and kicked the chair across the room, where it broke against the wall. "I could get off just watching you," he said, touching himself through his pants, squeezing his cock. A moan broke out of him, and he didn't try to hide it. "Fucking hell..." How could he want someone so bad? Someone who wanted to kill him? Right... he'd always been love's bitch and his choices had never made much sense.

Dean's arms were stretched above his head, but not so taut that he didn't have his full weight on the ground. They were stretched enough that he didn't have a lot of leverage and he knew how badly the cuffs would bite into his wrist if he put all his weight onto them to kick at Spike. Even if he landed a kick or two there was really nothing he could do. He couldn't get to his lock picks in his sleeves, though he could probably pull up his legs long enough to try to get one out of his pants cuff. Maybe. But Spike had made it clear what he could do to Dean and how fast he could do it. After having read over some of the things William had done to his victims he wasn't anxious to meet that side of the vampire but a part of him said Spike would never hurt him that way, not unless Dean threatened his life...which, Dean thought to himself, he had. Fuck.

"If you'd take off this fucking blindfold, maybe I could say the same," Dean said, trying to brush the bandanna against his biceps to get it off, but Spike had it tied too tightly. "What the hell are you waiting for?" he demanded. Shifting his hips, he tried to ease the tightness of his jeans over his groin. He really wasn't sure what he wanted. Spike to be the bastard vampire from the history books and prove Dean had to kill him if given the chance, or for Spike to prove him wrong and be the lover that he had been in the cabin, in the Impala, in the dreams that drove him crazy with need and had kept him celibate these last months because no one else would do.

"Not waiting, I've started," Spike groaned again, one hand working his cock, the other undoing his belt buckle. "I'm so bloody hard. Fuck..." The jerky movements Dean made drove Spike's lust up. He deliberately made more noise, with his buckle and zipper and his groans, making sure Dean knew one of them was getting some self made action.

He could tell the hunter was getting pissed off and frustrated. He'd bet that if he could see Dean's eyes, they would be filled with fury. "Don't like to be toyed with? Isn't that what you had in mind for me?" he asked, stepping closer and moaning softly.

"You've toyed with me since we met," Dean snapped. Knowing Spike was stroking himself, the sounds he heard made him even crazier with need. He wanted to see Spike jacking himself off and wanted to see the lust in Spike's eyes as his gaze raked over Dean's body.

Inches separated their bodies. Spike leaned in, slanted his mouth over Dean's and kissed him with excruciating slowness, refusing to engage in the rougher tongue play the hunter had gotten used to. Reaching up, he ran his hands up and down Dean's arms as they kissed, feeling his muscles strain and bunch, knowing if Dean's arms were free, they would be around him like steel bands about now. "Missed your taste," he muttered, still refusing to give in to his own desire, moving his mouth lightly over the hunter's and teasing him with his tongue.

Although he couldn't feel Spike's body heat since Spike's temperature was the same as the night around them, he could feel Spike's presence. Spike's lips pressed so gently against his, like that final kiss in the car, that Dean backed off on his attempt to control the kiss, letting Spike make slow love to his mouth. He knew Spike was probably standing on the balls of his feet to reach Dean and so he bent his head down to make it easier for Spike because he wanted this so damned badly.

He wanted to feel the press of Spike's body against his, especially as the vampire's touch wandered over his arms. It was going to hurt, it was fucking going to hurt, but no worse that he hurt now, just in a different way. He tightened his muscles in his arms and pushed off the floor, wrapping his legs around Spike's thighs, pulling him tight against him. The metal cuffs dug painfully into the flesh around his wrists but he didn't care. Spike's hard muscular body was pressed against him and he rubbed against Spike, groaning as he finally got some pressure on his hard cock. Most importantly, it was Spike's body that was giving him that pressure. Spike's surprise allowed him to take over the kiss, to shove his tongue deep into Spike's mouth and explore rather than have their tongues at war with one another. He ignored the agony in his wrists as he pressed himself against the vampire.

This was what Spike loved about Dean. The man never gave up, not fully. The way Dean's tongue was invading his mouth and asserting control left Spike dizzy. Moaning against Dean's mouth, he cupped Dean's ass and held him up, making it easier for Dean to fuck up against him. With each slide of Dean's hard cock over his own and against his stomach, need curled tighter low in Spike's belly. It didn't matter to him which of them was the bitch... maybe both were to the feelings that seemed to take over when they stood close.

Spike lost track of time. All he knew was the powerful sensations crashing over him each time he lifted Dean and Dean clenched his legs around him, making sure they came into hard contact. The hunter's ragged breaths filled the air, the scent of arousal teasing Spike, pushing him. Rocking his pelvis up one last time, Spike pulled away from the kiss, and licked his lips still wet with Dean.

"Want you to ride my cock," he said. Dean's legs didn't loosen from around him. Spike suddenly slapped Dean's ass hard, groaning at the way Dean jerked against him in shock. It did the trick and he was free. Walking behind Dean and pushing his own jeans down to his thighs, Spike wrapped one arm around Dean's waist and pulled him flush against his hard cock now pressing into Dean's jean clad ass. Yanking Dean's torn shirt off, Spike kissed along Dean's shoulder and throat, licking and scraping his teeth against smooth skin, moving his mouth frantically as if he couldn't get enough. With his free hand, he cupped Dean's cock and held him like that for a moment, before he unbuttoned Dean's jeans and unzipped him. Shoving his hand into the opening, he closed his fingers around Dean's hot hard flesh, squeezing and stroking him... owning him.

Dean suspected he was going to have Spike's handprint on his ass for a few days to come. Son of a bitch that hurt but at the same time, he was shocked to discover...he kinda liked it. Straining to hear where Spike was, he suddenly he felt Spike's muscular arm pull him close and felt the hard cock pressed against his ass. He twitched at first contact but moaned as he felt the vampire's mouth at his neck, admittedly relieved to feel only human teeth dragging across his skin. Dean was about to ask what made Spike think there was any way in hell he was going to ride his cock when the pressure of his jeans finally eased and Spike's hand closed around his member. His head fell back and he made sounds he wasn't sure he had ever heard himself make. Hell, a tape of those sounds would win him top spot in any porno movie he had ever watched. He was even more amazed when words spilled from his lips that he couldn't help.

"Fuck me," he breathed.

Because Dean had been so reluctant to take it up the arse before, his quiet plea meant much more to Spike. Still stroking Dean's cock, and hardly moving back, Spike pulled one side of Dean's jeans down then switched hands, and pulled the other side down. The instant his leaking cock pressed into Dean's hard ass cheek, Spike groaned and shifted his hips so he was sliding up and down the cleft of the hunter's arse.

The feel of Spike's cock so close to his hole and feeling the slick precum wet his ass cheeks was almost more than Dean could stand. It had been a long time since he had let anyone fuck him, and he had never asked for it before. It was usually a long conversation with his male lover wheedling and begging and promising the things he would do for Dean if Dean just let him fuck him. So he had. It had been okay but he didn't like his lack of control or the way it made him feel vulnerable. He had probably bottomed five maybe six times, and all of those before he was twenty-one. But now he wanted it with Spike and that was just all kinds of crazy.

As Dean pushed back against him, Spike gave a choked, "hold on, now." Every cell in his body screamed for it, for Spike to push inside Dean's tight, probably virgin, hole. His vampiric instincts were worse, telling him he could take what he wanted. It was his right to prey on that which tried to prey on him. It took everything he had to hang on to the last shreds of his control and reach back to his pocket. He'd brought lube for his 'date.'

Despite Dean's protests, he lubed Dean's hole, pushing some of the lube inside him. He lubed his own cock, and the hand he was stroking Dean with, then aligned his cock. Gripping Dean's hip to hold him still, Spike rubbed his tip against his puckered hole, groaning at the thought of pushing inside. His hand glided over Dean's cock, faster, harder, wanting him in a complete state of need before he pushed inside. "So bloody hot, Dean. So damned sexy when you can't move." Seeking out Dean's mouth, he managed a sloppy kiss, thrusting his tongue inside the corner of Dean's mouth. The waiting was sweet, sharp torture, but Spike wouldn't have it any other way. Dean was right, he did like toying with Dean, but he was equally ready to be toyed with or to force himself to wait.

Spike had been working Dean's cock before but once he lubed that hand it had Dean jerking and thrusting but not enough to bring him off. He's start to get close and then Spike would just squeeze it or run his thumb around the rim of his crown, waiting until Dean had calmed down just enough that he could start working him into a frenzy again. He pulled at his cuffs, letting out sounds of frustration. He felt Spike at his hole ready to enter him.

"Come on vampire, show me what you got," he panted out, taunting Spike. Probably stupid because his ass was all but virgin at this point and if Spike shoved all the way in one shot, it was gonna hurt like a bitch.

Sensing he'd brought Dean to the edge and back enough, Spike growled his agreement. He was long past the point of desperation himself and had been hanging on by a thin thread. The challenge pushed him over the edge.

He managed to slow himself down until he worked his crown inside, just past Dean's tight ring of muscle. But that was it, need for this man broke him. Muttering an apology, he wrapped his arm around Dean and entered him with one solid thrust, sinking so deep inside him that Spike's hips were flush against Dean's ass. Dean's satin heat clenched around his aching cock. "So tight," he said, shuddering with the agony as he held absolutely still, fighting the need to piston inside Dean, to fuck him mercilessly until he got what he needed.

The pressure had Dean wincing, his breath hitching, as he felt the slow penetration stretch him open so wide he was very glad Spike had lubed him despite his complaints. He released a breath when he felt Spike's crown make it fully inside him. Spike's apology sent a flash of concern through him that maybe Spike was going to kill him. That concern was gone when blinding white light filled his vision as pain shot through him at suddenly being filled. A grunt of pain escaped him at the sudden invasion but feeling Spike's body pressed up against him, he knew Spike was fully inside.

Dean expected the vampire to just go at it, but just as he had given Spike a chance to adjust to him when he'd fucked the vampire, Spike was giving Dean's body a chance to adjust. It hurt. It burned. He felt like he was practically split in two. It took everything in him to try to relax and not clench against the pain. It seemed like an eternity for his body to adjust and he could feel Spike's tension and need. Spike had waited long enough.

Although he was still panting a bit Dean gave a nod. "Give it to me," he told Spike.

Give it to me. The words echoed in Spike's brain, triggering an immediate physical response he would have fought if he'd been prepared of it. Twisting his hips in a circular motion once, he pulled out and drove his cock back inside Dean's hot tight channel, groaning with pleasure and pain. If it was possible, he felt himself getting harder, his cock pushing against Dean's walls. With a groan of desperation, Spike started to thrust, a few shallow strokes, and then he was fucking Dean like he needed, no holds barred. He angled his hips to make sure he stimulated Dean's prostate, cursing the first time Dean clenched tight around him and shuddered.

He expected the pain as Spike began thrusting into him but when Spike hit his prostate he let out a groan as his whole body shook with pleasure. Pain/pleasure/pain/pleasure teeter-tottered inside him until pleasure won out, his body adjusted to the hard thrusts.

"Fuck... oh fuck," Spike grunted, bending his knees more and pulling Dean down. "So bleeding hard for you. Ride me now, ride me," he said through gritted teeth, lifting Dean up and letting gravity do the work of impaling him on his cock. The sound of skin slipping against skin, of grunts and labored breaths, and of Dean's precum leaking into his hand took Spike higher and higher until he was fucking at a fevered pitch.

Dean was lost in his own pleasure filled world but heard Spike's demands and gave Spike everything he could. He vaguely felt one cuff finally cut flesh and felt liquid trickle down his arm. The lovemaking far outweighed the pain caused by the wound.
"Harder," Dean demanded, even though he knew he would probably walk gingerly for a week as it was. Spike's hand on his cock matched the pace of Spike pistoning into him and Dean could feel how close he was.

"Yeah, fuck yeah," Dean said as Spike gave him more. His balls tightened suddenly and ropes of cum spewed from his cock. Dean cried out the vampire's name as his whole body froze momentarily, then he shuddered at the exquisite pleasure with a moan.

Dean's explosive cry pushed Spike over the edge. He rocked into Dean with almost violent thrusts, groaning as Dean clenched around him. His balls pressed painfully hard against his body, the need for release riding him like a bitch. As white hot heat inched through his veins, Spike drove into Dean, gave a grunt, and drove into him one more time, hard enough to move both of them forward a few steps. "Sodding hell ...Dean!" His entire body shuddered as he came hot and hard, filling Dean's channel. "Dean..." he whispered, grinding into him much more slowly.

The scent of sex with Dean was intoxicating to Spike. Maybe it was a validation of what was between them, that spark that Dean would never accept. He breathed deeply, half lidded eyes opening as he detected a new smell in the mix. Sweet, metallic... Dean? He looked up and saw a narrow rivulet of blood traveling down Dean's arm. Need, a different kind, slammed into him so hard it was like an unexpected kick in the stomach.

He ran a hand over Dean's chest, soothing him, kissing his ear, but always, his attention went back to that which he couldn't ignore. The man already hated him, what difference would it make? Justifying it that way, he moved one hand over Dean's mouth, not wanting to hear the bitter words when they came, and lifted his own face up, tongue lapping at the small quantity of blood streaming down. Groaning, he felt himself go hard inside Dean. Fuck... Reaching up, he broke the cuff around Dean's wrist. Suddenly Dean felt a bit heavier, even though one arm was still suspended in the air as the broken cuff had caught on the eyelet. Still making sure Dean couldn't say a word, Spike fucked him with short shallow thrusts as he licked the blood off Dean's arm and came hard inside him again.

Slowly, he pulled out of Dean's body. "Don't say a word," he whispered, pulling his tee shirt off and cleaning both of them. He pulled his pants up, zipped himself up and buckled his belt.

Gently, he drew Dean's pants up too, and fastened them around his waist. "Don't come after me again. I'm not one of the things you hunt, not anymore." His throat closed up on him, eyes stinging and making him glad the bandanna was still covering Dean's eyes. Slanting his mouth over the hunter's, he kissed him, his tongue sweeping over ever corner of dean's mouth one last time. "I wish--"

A cell phone rang, interrupting him.

Spike walked across the room and returned with it, putting it into Dean's free hand. He squeezed the hunter's hand lightly, then strode out of the house, letting the door bang shut behind him. Wishes were for fools and he wasn't about to play a fool. Right, and how many times had he played one in the name of love? Pulling the car door shut, he started the car and took off.


Dean had stayed silent, even after Spike had removed his hand from covering his mouth though he'd initially feared Spike was going to keep that hand over his mouth and squeeze his nose shut to suffocate him. He was panting so hard it was an effort to draw in enough air through his nose to soothe his body's needs. Then his arm was down and he'd felt Spike's tongue on his arm and realized what was happening. He hadn't expect the vampire to go hard just like that from the taste of his blood and to fuck him again. The thrusts were gentle enough--comparatively--and Dean was so stretched and slick from Spike's cum that it hadn't hurt at all. He'd kept waiting for the bite that never came.

Spike's hands had been gentle on him again as he cleaned him free of the cum dripping from his ass. and the lube. He was even more surprised when Spike essentially re-dressed him.

He desperately wanted to know what Spike's wish was that he was beginning to tell him, then his damned phone rang. That would be Sam checking up on him, wanting to know how he was doing, if Spike was dead. When he heard Spike walk away again after giving him his phone, he did not expect to hear the banging of the door and almost called out to the vampire to wait just a god-damned minute. The coward! The fucking coward!

Dean hit the answer button on his phone before it went to voice mail. "Yeah?"

"Dean?" It was his brother. "How--"

"I'm fine Sam. I'll call you back. Got to do a few things." Dean kept his voice matter of fact and business as usual, though it was anything but.

"Dean! Wait a--"

Dean hit the end call button and slid the phone into his pocket. He undid the knot on the bandanna and pulled it away from his eyes, blinking at the light. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, not really, other than the after sex haze that made him want to sleep, and the anger, no, the fury that Spike walked out on him again. He knew he had self worth issues, no argument there, but he decided Spike beat him out hands down. Still, why shouldn't he just leave? He was clearly concerned Dean was going to try to come after him and kill him. Dean had lured him here to do just that after all. He still didn't know if he really could have gone through with it.

Looking up he saw the broken cuff and worked it through the eyelet and brought his arm down with a wince. His shoulders ached, his ass ached, hell, even his tongue ached. He was moving on autopilot at this point. He spotted the key to the cuff and while he could have picked the cuff, the key was easier. As he bent over to retrieve the key, his aching ass complained and he groaned softly. Letting the cuff fall to the floor, he tossed the now useless key aside as well.

The cut on his arm was still bleeding a little and he brought it to his mouth and sucked on it a minute as he gathered the silver knife and dropped machete and put them in his duffel, sheathing each of them.

Spike left him again. That thought just kept running around in his brain, even though it was surely the sensible thing for Spike to do. Was Spike still William the Bloody? No. No, Dean was pretty certain he wasn't. What Spike told him about the museum, he believed. There was still the possibility of one more vamp rising and he suspected Spike wouldn't be around to take care of it. Dean and Sam would have to.

Spike left him.

"Dammit, shut up already," he growled to himself as he limped over to where he had concealed a case he did believe Spike and let him go. Or in case he let him go anyhow. He'd wanted something they could lay on...

The tears spilled down his cheeks. Fuck. Dammit. He was so fucking pathetic. What now? Try to find Spike? Spike was obviously hanging out with this Slayer chick and he could probably find Spike through her or the Harris guy. Forget Spike? Move on? Cause, yeah, that had worked so well for him the past four months.

Taking his things out to the Impala he tossed the duffel in the trunk, taking the time to slap a bandage on his wrist even though it had pretty much stopped bleeding at this point. Yeah and when Sam asked about the bruising around his wrists, the way he was probably going to be walking funny and the cut, well, hell, if the boy genius couldn't figure it out for himself, too bad.

Sliding in behind the wheel he dug out his keys and started up his baby, taking a moment to listen to her growl and letting the engine warm up until the RPMs dropped a bit. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. What the hell was he going to do?

He was going to wipe away his tears, stop acting like a lovesick puppy and get on with the family business. He was going to suck it up and put Spike out of his mind.

Yeah. Sure.

He wiped away his tears and floored the gas, the tires throwing gravel as he sped away from that house. He cranked the music but just couldn't bring himself to sing along and suddenly realized it was one of his dad's favorite tapes. He turned it off, ejected it, and lobbed it out the window. Yeah, Dad was gone but he could still feel his disapproval. In love with a vampire. There, he said it, even if only in his head. He was in love with Spike. How the hell could that be? He barely knew the fucker.

The Impala was racing down the back country road and Dean almost didn't see Spike's car pulled off to the side of the road or the glowing ember of the cigarette. He slammed on his brakes, laying skid marks on the pavement, and wheeled the car around. He pulled the car off the side of the road, blocking Spike's car from moving unless he backed it up first.
Throwing open the door he stalked up to Spike and without warning punched him across the jaw. "You god damned sonuvabitch!"

Spike reeled back from the blow, staggering to regain his balance. Cocking his head to one side, he rubbed his jaw. "What comes next, hunter? Holy water? Crosses? Stakes? Bring it," he snarled, lunging at Dean, grabbing him by his jacket and throwing him across the front of his car. Before Dean rolled off, Spike was leaning over him. "You shagged a vampire and you liked it. You wanted it," he said distinctly. "Killing me won't change a thing because it's in here," he pressed his finger against Dean's forehead, "and maybe here, if there's anything there," he said, this time jabbing Dean's chest right over his heart. "So you can tell your lies, say you killed the 'big bad vampire' who forced you ... took advantage of you... use it to impress whoever it is you need to. Your brother? Father? Hunter friends? Maybe yourself, but in the cold of the night, you will know the truth."

"I know the fucking truth!" Dean snarled back, pulling his knees in and slamming both feet into Spike's gut, sending him backwards onto the hood of the Impala. He slid off Spike's car and stalked forward. Grabbing Spike's shirt he pulled him forward and punched him in the face. "You're a coward! You ran four months ago, just like you're running now. You can't get me out of your head but you can't face the fact you might love a hunter!"

Spike's head snapped back under the force of the punch. Growling with anger, he instinctively reached out and closed his hands around Dean's throat, thumbs pressing down and threatening to close his wind pipe. Then his words sank in and made no sense to the vampire. "You're off your rocker, mate." He paused. "I didn't run, there's nothing to run from. You made it crystal clear how you felt four months ago. I gave you my number, and when did you call? When you thought you could finish me with your games," he sneered. "So tell me why I should have stayed to hear you railing about things I can't change?"

Spike's hands eased on his throat and while all sorts of alarms should have been going off in his head about just how fucking stupid this was, no weapons, hand to hand against a man with three or ten or what the hell ever the strength of Dean and he still couldn't stop himself. He stared into those blue eyes, his fingers wrapped in the fresh t-shirt Spike had put on. "You were gone in the morning! You didn't give me a chance to sort out a damned thing! You're a vampire, you're what I hunt! And me fucking you in the back of my car, that made it crystal clear did it? I knew what you were and still I made love to you. But you left. Just left!" Dean felt the angry tears on his cheeks. "And I see you here, find out your history, and yeah I called you, got you there. You think if I simply wanted you dead I wouldn't have killed you right off? Had Sam there to help? Hunters don't live long if they talk to their prey."

He slammed his palms into Spike's arms forcing Spike to let go of the grip around his neck. He straightened and felt the slight wind caress his chest. He hadn't bothered to put on a new shirt yet and his was still ripped open. He turned from Spike, his head bowed. "Just...get the hell off my car," Dean said. He should get in his car and go but found himself rooted to the spot. He didn't want to leave, not like this.

It was deathly quiet as Spike processed not only Dean's accusations, but tried to understand the things he didn't say. The things Spike had only allowed himself to hope for when he'd received Dean's phone call. He put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "At the car... I goaded you into it. Didn't think you were 'making love,' Dean. Thought you were 'punishing' or couldn't help it... the chemistry. Doesn't mean you accept it or can deal with it, yeah?" Spike resisted the urge to wipe away the tears that glittered on Dean's cheek, or even to force him to turn and face him fully. "I left you my number in case you could come to ..." he shrugged. "At least miss me a little." He wasn't going to put his hopes out there, not yet.

Dean sniffed, trying to gather himself. He was crying like a fucking girl. "No one goads me into sex. Ever. Course it doesn't usually take much to get me interested," he admitted frankly. "With you, I coulda just pulled my gun and blown your head off." He gave a soft bitter laugh. "Chemistry...I haven't had chemistry with someone since Cassie. Not really. Had some good fucks that I wouldn't mind revisiting, but there's never been someone...not since Cass threw me out for being a lunatic talking about monsters and hunting." He shook his head. "Then you come along. A vampire. Hunting for a friend's missing kid. Anything I tried to get out of your friend about you he pretty much deflected and told me to keep the fuck away from you. I never looked you up, research wise. Most vamps aren't in the history books. Never ran into hellmouth-vamps before either. Dad told us vamps weren't like the lore. Said they were extinct, or damned near. He was wrong. Ran into one nest that were "vegetarians", only drank cow's blood. I didn't want to let the leader bitch live. Supernatural means evil. Always had. Until then. That took a while for me to deal with, wondering if I'd killed other things that didn't deserve killing. Not human, but not evil. That didn't fit into the world view I'd been brought up with. You don't fit the worldview I've been brought up with."

Dean heaved a sigh and turned to face Spike. "I don't know what to do about you. I haven't...I haven't got laid since that last night with you in the Impala. You were right. You got under my skin. You got inside me and no one else," he gave a one shouldered shrug, "no one else was good enough. No one else could do it for me."

Tentatively he reached out and touched Spike's face, running his fingers slowly along his high cheekbones. "I'm still confused as hell. I don't even know you but...I want to. I don't get what's between us. now the time you laugh your ass off at me, tell me how fucked up I am, that there's nothing...nothing you want from me other than the occasional good lay? Tell me, Spike. What am I to you?"
"You’re like the song I carry around with me inside here,” Spike slammed his closed fist against his own chest. “But it's playing in a pitch so high, I’ll never get to hear it. Like the holy grail I’ve chased after and found, only you’re sealed behind thick church doors and sitting in a pool of holy water I can never cross. A mirage I can reach for all I want, but never touch, not really.” Spike swallowed and pressed his cheek against Dean’s fingers. “The most I can realistically expect is that I’m the ‘dirt’ you want to roll in once in a while. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to hear the song or touch the grail. Love’s bitch, it’s what someone brilliant called me once. It’s what I am. Does that answer your question, hunter?”

He was afraid of Dean's answer, as afraid as he'd been at the farmhouse when he'd prevented Dean from giving his true reaction when in a moment of weakness he had succumbed to his vampiric desires and taken Dean's blood.

"You're not 'dirt.'" Dean said, anger threading his words. "You're not 'not good enough’." Dean's voice softened. "You say you gave up human blood before ever getting your soul back. That says something about you. Says a lot." Dean pulled Spike into his arms. "I'm no song unless it's written by AC/DC or something. Or maybe Black Sabbath's Heaven and Hell. I'm sure as hell no 'holy grail.' I'm not a mirage either, because you touched me." Dean smirked. "Damned near everywhere."

He lifted Spike's chin with two fingers so he could look into the man's eyes. "Still doesn't mean I'm not confused as hell. My dad, God, he'd rip me a new one twice over." After a long pause he found Sam's words on his lips. "But Dad's gone. I don't always make good choices. I live on the road, credit card scams, hustle pool, whatever it takes to pay for fleabag motels and ammunition and food. I hunt evil, try to save people. My car and my brother, that's all I've got. I've never really wanted anything else, except maybe Cassie. But she's history. Long past. But now? I want you."

Dean leaned in and kissed Spike long and slow, caressing his back and holding him close like he never wanted to go.

As they kissed, Dean's words reverberated in the vampire's mind. I want you. Over and over, words he'd thought he might never hear from this man outside of bed. When Dean finally broke the kiss, neither one loosened his hold on the other.

"So help me, if this is the part you laugh your arse off and tell me it’s all a lie, that you're pulling one over on me, I will..." Spike's hold tightened around Dean, though he knew it wasn't what he was dealing with right now. He leaned in and crushed his mouth against the hunter's, kissing him hungrily, possessively, showing him that he wanted him body and soul. "We'll figure out the 'how' later. I'm yours, however and whenever you want me."

Spike's demanding kiss had Dean responding just as readily, claiming Spike as Spike did him. When Spike finally let him breathe Dean grinned at him. "One, you may not need to breathe, but I do. Two, you did say you'd make a helluva a wife and I wanna see if that's true. C'mon, follow me back to the motel. I'll make sure Sam doesn't stake you when you walk in the door."

Spike started to head for his car when he changed his mind and grabbed Dean's arm from behind, stopping him. "Hold on a moment." Though he'd been smiling earlier, Spike was deadly serious now. "You kill monsters. It's not only what you do, it defines you." This was probably the most foolish thing he'd ever done, and it certainly wasn't a 'play to win' tactic. "Don't argue, yeah? It's true, and you're fighting that part of yourself every time you look at me. Maybe you'll get over it sometime, or maybe seeing my 'game face' will make that impossible. Best we find out now."

Dean frowned at Spike's words. He knew Spike was a vampire but he forced himself to think of Spike as a man first. Maybe it was only a way to rationalize how he felt about the man, but so long as it worked, what did it matter? But 'game-face'? What the hell did Spike mean by that? He could see Spike was nervous about it and that made him nervous. He remembered seeing Lenore's mouth full of teeth when she fought against wanting Sam's blood and yeah, he really wouldn't be thrilled see all those teeth lining Spike's mouth but it's not like Spike would be showing them on a regular basis. Then again, the hellmouth vamps were like Dracula. So Spike was going to show him his fangs? A little unnerving probably, but Spike had already proven to him that though he might have fangs, but he didn't typically show them and okay, so maybe just a little, Dean thought Dracula fangs were kinda cool. Of course real Drac fangs might be a whole different matter.

"Yeah. Okay," Dean said slowly.

A full moment later, Spike let out a curse. "Too bloody late to take back the offer, isn't it?" He no more wanted to see Dean's reaction to this, than he had wanted to see his reaction when he'd drank his blood, or to hear him spoil the moment they'd had in the car at the motel. The same instinct that had him leaving the hunter behind then was playing with his mind, making him want to do just that.

"I'm going to see this game face of yours eventually right? Probably when you're fighting or pissed off? I really don't want a surprise in the middle of a fight. I don't like surprises and don't like to be blind-sided." It was hard enough coming to terms with knowing Spike was a vampire. He hoped this didn't make it even harder. And Spike was near freaking out about this anyhow. He was determined he wouldn't make Spike's confidence in him lessen. He couldn't. They were on kinda shaky ground anyhow so he braced himself. After a moment and a deep breath to steady his nerves he gave a nod, determined not to let whatever Spike's game face was ruin it for them.

If Spike thought about it anymore he was going to drive himself mad. Giving an almost imperceptible return nod, he shifted into game face, held perfectly still and opened his mouth, allowing a fierce snarl to escape him.

Whatever Dean was expecting, it wasn't what he saw before him. The change was almost drastic, a Cro-Magnon look to Spike's forehead, the fangs, the snarl. The eyes...Dean's breath hitched and he straightened and tensed, as the beautiful blue eyes were now yellow...not at all so different than those of the yellow eyed demon who'd killed his mom and his dad.

His jaw clenched. This was Spike and Spike had a soul. The devil's trap hadn't held him. He wasn't demon enough to be held by a devil's trap. There was no denying the eyes shook him damned near to the core of his being all the same. He forced himself to step forward. No, he would not let the yellow eyed demon ruin this too. Thoughts of Spike had consumed him, eaten him alive from the inside out. He would just have to accept it was part of Spike. It was the demon in Spike and nothing more, the demon that Spike obviously had well under control and would probably get rid of if he could.

He stood in front of Spike and ran his hand along the side of Spike's face then over his changed forehead. The eyes...dammit the eyes were the worst of it. Everything thing else he could deal with...with time. What was it with eyes and supernatural creatures? Windows to the soul or something they said. The demonic soul or spirit, or whatever the hell it was showing through. What would he do if the eyes were black? It would freak him just as much or nearly so, and that was just the facts. So yellow, black, white, whatever, it would be an issue for him and always remind him Spike was part demon. Yellow was probably the worst of all possibilities, though.

Why did the eyes have to be yellow dammit?

"I don't...I don't like the yellow eyes," Dean said slowly. "A yellow eyed demon killed our mom, our dad, and has some sort of plans for Sam. That...makes it hard for me, okay? It's gonna freak Sam out just as bad, maybe worse." He stared into those yellow eyes but saw the deep fear in them, fear of rejection or disgust or both.

Dean could do this, dammit. He had to. He had to prove to Spike it didn't matter, even if it maybe did. He would learn to deal. He would. He had to, because he wasn't willing to give Spike up just because of some damning yellow eyes.

Taking a deep breath he pulled Spike into his arms and kissed him, fangs and all. Spike tasted the same. He ran his tongue over the sharp fangs as he ran his hands over Spike's body. Nothing was different except the fangs and face and eyes. It was still his Spike, still his vampire. Still the man/vampire/whatever that his heart yearned for.

He broke the kiss and looked into the changed vampiric face of his lover. "You're still mine and I still want you. Just...just give me some time to deal with those damned eyes of yours, okay? Don't...don't change without giving me warning if you can. It will freak me. But it's not because it proves you're a vampire. It's because of the yellow-eyed demon. Not you. Took me a while to deal with being in love with a vampire. Hell, I'm still dealing with it but giving you up isn't...I can't. I'm working on accepting it and I think I'm cool with it. But you gotta give me time on this too, okay? I might have dreams, nightmares, whatever. I might...I might jerk back from you sometimes, or I might say things I don't mean just cause you pissed me off. I'm gonna ask you to forgive me now and try to understand. The yellow-eyed demon took everything from me and is maybe trying to take my brother now too. You're not him but sometimes...sometimes it's gonna really mess with me."

Spike shifted back, his eyes reverting to laser blue but still locked onto Dean's. "You didn't have to do that... prove yourself," he said quietly. "I know what I look like in game face. There's never any reason to see it, except when I'm fighting." He ran his thumb across Dean's lips, then slapped the his face lightly, keeping his palm there. "If you weren't freaked out, I'd think you were lying, or I'd be freaked, yeah?"

Dean had to admit he was glad the handsome face of his lover was back, that those blue eyes were back. He tugged Spike a little closer. "Maybe I had to prove it to myself, that under that change, it was still you. That you taste the same, feel the same. And I did have to prove it to you. You needed to be sure I wasn't gonna turn away from you and tell you to hit the road."

There wasn't more to say. He never expected Dean to like his game face, but he'd needed to know the hunter could live with it. Dropping his hand, he gave Dean a nod. "I'll help you fight your nightmares, and your enemies. If you let me."

"Haven't you figured out by now...I'll let you do damned near anything you want when it comes to me? Might even...might even let you bite me, fangs and all." He pulled Spike's body flush against his, reclaiming this human form of Spike's as his, kissing him fiercely, his hand on Spike's ass pressing their groins together.

Dean's burning hot kisses quickly dispelled Spike's disbelief that Dean would ever offer his blood, especially if it involved being bitten. This was one very complicated man he was with. On the surface, judging from his behavior, he should have hated being tied up, should have railed against being at another man's mercy. And maybe Dean had, just a little, but on balance, he'd more than enjoyed having all of his power taken away for a short period. So maybe he did hate the supernatural creatures that walked the earth, and demons and vampires who drank human blood. And maybe, at the same time, a part of him found excitement in the very things he hated when they were brought to him in a controlled atmosphere.

And maybe Spike was about to drive himself mad trying to think deep thoughts when Dean was pressed up against him so hard, practically devouring his mouth and holding him like he'd never let go. Spike's blood thickened. His cock started to grow thick and heavy as need flooded his system. Groaning, he widened his legs and thrust his hips, trying to get the pressure he needed. He groped Dean, pressing his hands down over his ass and back, molding him closer, kissing him back the way he'd imagined it would be when he'd first walked into that farmhouse. He was the one to finally break the kiss. "You're a bit of a fraud, aren't you? Thought you had to breathe," he said, with a smile. "Touch me like that again, Winchester, and..." he shoved his hand into the waistband of Dean's jeans and tugged him closer. "I'll be wanting a rerun of our last time in the auto."

"I didn't say I couldn't hold my breath a long time," Dean said with a smirk. "Rerun...mmm, tempting. But you kept me up all night, it's a long drive back to town, and, as much as I love making out in my baby, it's a lot more fun with more room." He cupped a hand alongside Spike's face and kissed him gently then smacked him hard on the ass as he broke off their kiss. "Get in your car before I change my mind."

Dean forced himself to let Spike go, and reminded himself there was a motel room waiting for them. "Next time we get kinky, I get to tie you up and blindfold you," he tossed over his shoulder as he reached the car. Seeing Spike was still standing there between the cars, he grinned. "Get the lead out, dude. We're at the Castenet Motel on 41. And you damned well better follow me there. Don't make me hunt your ass down."

Dean slid behind the wheel, started the car and after backing up, spun her around and headed north, making sure Spike's car was following him. He slid in a tape and cranked the music, singing loudly and off key with the music.


An hour later, Spike followed Dean into the motel room, banging into him when the hunter stopped suddenly. The sight that greeted them was probably a lot more comical to Spike than it was to Dean.

Right there, in front of them, the petite Slayer had Sam pressed up against the wall with the pointy end of a stake against his chest. Though Buffy insisted she was five foot four, Spike didn't think she was much past the five foot mark. And there she was, one hand flat against the chest of a muscular man who was at least a foot and half taller, threatening him if he didn't tell her what they'd done to Spike.

"He's right there..." Sam said, shifting his eyes to a point behind the blonde, surprised that Spike was actually still alive and relieved to see Dean seemed okay as well.

Spike laughed. "Looks like you won't be saving me from your brother's stake, I'm the one saving him from the Slayer's. Buffy you can let the nice hunter go."

Whirling around, Buffy eyed all the men, and shoved the stake into her sleeve. "We heard the Winchesters were on their way here, and then you weren't answering your phone. Everything alright?" she asked, shooting a pointed look at Dean's torn up shirt.

The vampire nodded. "I think we've... ironed out our differences. Dean won't be trying to stake me anymore, at least with a stake."

"TMI," Buffy huffed, then stepped forward.

Dean eyed the short blond then gave his brother a 'WTF, short shit about took you out?' look while Sam responded with a glance at Spike and a questioning look of why Spike was still in one piece. Dean smirked with that 'I just got laid' look and Sam rolled his eyes but wasn't sure if he was happy about it or not, not after everything he knew about William the Bloody.

"So, you're the Slayer. Huh. Thought you'd be taller," Dean said returning his focus to the woman, trying to hide the fact he was pissed as hell that she had been threatening her brother.

"So you're Dean?" She raised a brow. "Guess we both get that a lot, having drawn the shortest in the family gene."

"Nothing wrong with short," Spike inserted smoothly before an argument broke out. "Let's get the serious talk out of the way so we can get to the fun stuff. Pub."

"Almost daylight," Buffy pointed out, ignoring Spike's mock crestfallen look. "So, what do I need to do to make it clear Spike's playing on the Slayer team and he's off limits?"

"Well if someone had fucking talked with us when we tried to find out information about him, we might not have had this misunderstanding. Everything we found was about William, not Spike, so don't be getting all high and mighty on me sister," Dean retorted. "And I don't think he'll be playing on the Slayer team much longer. Might be he's had a better offer."

"You seriously thought we were going to answer your 'how do we kill him?' questions?" She rolled her eyes. "He's a vampire. It's my job to take care of vampires and I get to decide where there will be exceptions. You have questions about that, you look up 'Slayer, The' under any trustworthy reference. You want to know why Spike is an exception, look up 'Champion, The' under the subheading 'of Sunnydale'."

"It's really great to be fought over but..."

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said, still drilling the two hunters with her gaze. "I want to be clear on this, I don't have to time to run around after you to make sure you understand."

Dean glanced at Spike. "You put up with this shit from her?" he asked then turned back to the woman, piercing her with his own stare. "Fine. Let's make everything perfectly clear then." He turned, pulling Spike into his arms and kissing the vampire passionately. After finally breaking the kiss when he got the rewarding groan out of Spike he was shooting for, he swung his gaze back to the woman who definitely looked a little shocked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "If you'd bothered to get off your fucking high horse, 'Slayer, The' and listened to what I said, I said, he might have a better offer. Are we clear now?" Dean snapped, his eyes fairly blazing at this point. The woman had threatened his brother, told his lover to shut the fuck up, and was treating them all like she was God's gift to hunting. He'd about had enough of her shit. Superhero or not, woman or not, he was getting close to wanting to clock her one.

Buffy shifted her gaze to Spike, holding it for a moment. Something unspoken flowed between them and she seemed to relax. A smile curved her lips. "I like him a lot more than--"

"Buffy," Spike gave her a look

"Right, old history. You wouldn't be interested. Spike, don't be a stranger." She walked to the door and opened it, then turned to look at the Winchesters. "Guess this makes us in-laws or something, so if you're ever in L.A., look me up. Maybe even show me what he sees in you," she said more pointedly to Dean, "other than that kiss..."

"Sorry sweetheart, he's the only one who gets to see me naked."

Glaring at Dean, Buffy tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked out without another word.

The door closed behind her and Spike barred Dean's way, just in case. "She likes you," he nodded. "At least likes that kiss."

"Well she's not gonna get one. That sorta kiss is yours."

Feeling Spike's gaze on him, Sam raised his hands. "Dude, don't look at me, I was trying not to watch." He crossed the room and grabbed his jacket. "I'm getting a separate room. Talk over breakfast?" he asked, looking at Dean.

"Lunch. Spike and me, we've been up all night." He gave Sam a grateful look.

A smile tugged at Sam's mouth and he gave a small nod.

When Sam left, taking his computer and backpack with him, Dean turned to Spike, looking serious and maybe a bit worried. "Sam and I are close and it's gonna be an adjustment. For all of us. Maybe...maybe we take out this possible last vamp then go our separate ways for a week or two. You go back to L.A., sort out shit, and tend to things. We live on the road, don't usually stay any place long term, and no telling when you might get back there. As soon as Sam and I find our next hunt, I'll call and we'll meet up with you at it. You've got my number now too so don't think I'm trying to dump you. This'll give us both a little time and space. We'll work together, see how it goes." He ran his hand along the side of Spike's face. "I don't want this to be just a let's get together to get laid thing, I wanna do this right. Which does include a lot of sex by the way." Dean smirked. "I just wanna make sure Sam and you are good with working together, that you and he get along and I'm not just bringing you in all at once," Dean gave a shrug. "If the situation was reversed I'd be happy for him, but I'd probably also be a little jealous of having to share him."

Seeing Spike's cocked eyebrow, Dean pushed him toward the bed. "He's my brother. You're my hot as hell lover who owes me one rock t-shirt and a pair of handcuffs, by the way." Dean turned Spike around when they reached the bed, then gave his shoulders a shove, sending the vampire falling back onto the mattress. "Huh, first time we've actually had a bed." He gave Spike an evil smile as he crawled up his body. "What say we christen it and make sure all our neighbors know it, especially since Sam will probably end up right next door."

"You sure you're up for strenuous exercise?" Spike asked, closing his arms around Dean and smiling. "You could sleep, and I could bang the headboard on the wall and keep your reputation safe." His teasing was brought to an abrupt halt by Dean's mouth over his, which was just fine with Spike. They'd take it slow, let tomorrow take care of itself. He knew the brothers were close and set in their hunting ways and wasn't about to go and change everything for them overnight. And he had no doubt that both men would want or need to know more about his time as William the Bloody, and the change that came over him. But it would be in a different atmosphere, not in one where a wrong answer might mean death. Just something to be expected.

Dean's calloused palms slide under Spike's shirt and suddenly, everything else faded away. It was time to play with his new teammate.

Also - thought this was amusing and sort of similar to what happened at the end so enjoy this lovely animation by Sarah-Jones

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(A/N: Our next joint fic will be a Battlestar Galactica/SPN Xover, and then we'll be working on more Spike/Dean)

The End

You have reached the end of "Cabin Fever". This story is complete.

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