He drank as fast as he could, wanting as much of it in him as possible before his body stopped tolerating the blood. The thick liquid still tasted vile, but Dean's blood was definitely in there, teasing him, making him drink a little more as if there would be a pot of it at the end of the torture. He'd almost reached the bottom of the mug when the pain started and he jerked away from the straw, pressing his head down into the pillows and closing his eyes, teeth clenched against the burn in his stomach. As the battle raged, a soft sound of distress left him before he could clamp down on it. His fingers tightened around the loose lengths of rope binding him to the headboard.
Though his body shook, the usual accompanying nausea was missing. Not that he really appreciated it at the moment, but it was something. Spike silently writhed until the pain dulled to where he could ignore it and he took an unneeded breath of relief. "You're the quiet in my storm tossed weeping night and... and I'm no more a poet now than I ever was," he said ruefully, opening his eyes.
Dean set the cup aside with a frustrated sigh. Running his hand over Spike's clammy forehead and combing his fingers through that bleach blond hair, he wished he could do something for him. "I liked it, sounds like the start of a good song," Dean said with a watery smile. He really wanted to push Spike to try for a few more days, but he hated that it was putting Spike in so much damned pain.
"It just isn't working, is it?" he finally asked cupping the side of Spike's face. "I...I don't want to see you hurting anymore. We'll go back to that place tomorrow. I'll go in with you and be with you while you eat. If that's what we gotta do to stay together and make it so you don't have to worry about hurting someone, then...then that's what we'll do."
"Let's see where we are with this tomorrow, yeah?" Spike had trouble believing anyone, let alone a hardened hunter, would sympathize deeply with him, yet the proof was in Dean's face, in his too-shiny eyes. "It was better this time. Don't feel like throwing it all up," he offered. "And you're never going into one of those brothels. The vampires here may be civilized but..." The thought of one taking a liking to his hunter and insisting on a taste, that didn't sit well with him at all. "Not with me, and not without," he said firmly.
Dean wasn't sure Spike wasn't saying that just to make him feel better, though admittedly, Spike didn't look quite so sick this time. "All right, we'll try again tomorrow, just don't be stupid. Don't endanger yourself," he said using Spike's own words. "And you're not going in without me. Only thing I've ever seen was vampire hell house. I need a different memory, a better memory, if it turns out you gotta go into one for ... food. And don't be giving me orders, bitch." He slapped Spike's face lightly.
Dean looked around the room. "I've got some charcoal left. I think I'll cook me up a couple burgers, that way I don't have to leave you here. Do you think you're safe since you've managed to eat a little? Not that I mind having you all tied up," Dean said, giving him a good leer.
Spike shot Dean a look, not liking either having his own words thrown back at him or being called bitch. "I'm safe," he nodded, lifting his wrist up so Dean could start untying him. As soon as one arm was free, he reached for his other one and got himself loose, then pushed the other ropes across his body off while Dean dealt with the knots at his ankles. "And I noticed, not that I mind being tied up once in a while."
Rubbing his wrists, Spike swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the sheets still pulling over his lap. Running his hand up Dean's side, he stood up, the sheet pooling at their feet between them as he kissed the hunter, chuckling at the way Dean initially pulled back. "No blood, only me," he said, kissing him one more time and walking across the room to get his black jeans. Pulling them up his bare arse, he turned and caught Dean's stare. "I don't see any cooking going on," he smirked.
"Oh, there's cooking going on," Dean said, licking his lips. He shook his head. Food. He needed food. He grabbed the bag of charcoal and headed outside to the courtyard where he dumped the briquettes into the little grill and got it going. Pulling everything out of the cooler and leaving a wet puddle on the rug in the process, he looked up at Spike. "Would you refill this with ice? You need some more ice down in your cooler, too."
He began carrying the food over to the table while Spike headed outside to the ice machine. Dean hadn't realized just how hungry he was what with the drama with Spike. The drama now over, he felt like he could eat half a cow. He flicked on the television and surfed a couple channels when he stumbled across a soap channel. 'Passions' was on. Since the show had ended back around the time he killed the yellow-eyed demon and sold his soul for Sam, he hadn't thought much about it. He realized suddenly this was an episode he hadn't seen and was after the finale. What the hell? Maybe it got renewed or something. He glanced over at his phone on the nightstand guiltily. He really ought to call Sam. He'd do that after dinner and after Passions, he decided. Providing he could fight Spike off long enough to make the call.
Spike returned with a cooler full of ice and stopped just in the doorway, mesmerized by what was on the screen. He frowned as the male character he hated most on the show started to make the moves on his favorite female character. That was just wrong, very wrong. The story cut to another scene which showed that the girl's boyfriend had been given a note to meet her in the hotel room she was in. His frown deepened at the set-up.
Dean kept looking up from the plate he was filling, trying to figure out what was going on. Dean nearly dropped his plate when he realized Spike was back and staring at the screen with a frown. "There was, uh, nothing on. You can flip through the channels if you want," Dean said. He turned to making up the hamburger patties, mixing in some salt and pepper and started to put in some garlic when he stopped suddenly. "Probably shouldn't use garlic, should I?" he asked Spike, covertly trying to watch the show.
"Garlic?" His eyes stayed on the screen though he set the chest down. "Garlic's fine. Eat what you want. Anything you... She's too nice. Needs to kick him in the bollocks, that's what, and before her fiance gets there," he muttered. Blinking, he poured some of the ice into the smaller chest that Dean had brought out for him. He resituated the blood bags in it before looking up at the screen again and very slowly putting the beers and other items back into the other, larger ice chest.
Even with Spike's assurances, Dean skipped the garlic. Yeah, Spike was this new vampire type but what if garlic ended up bothering him since he was part the old vampire type? He could always add garlic on the burgers while they were cooking.
It was obvious that Spike watched Passions back before it was cancelled and wasn't paying much attention to Dean. He vaguely recalled Direct TV had picked it up for a year. Not like there was much of a chance for Dean to see a satellite channel. Dean put the burgers on the grill at the first commercial and quickly washed his hands, then came back in and sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard. "Spike, toss me a beer, would ya?"
"What? Beer, right." Pulling himself together, Spike got two bottles and opening one bottle cap with his thumb, passed it to Dean. "Smells quite good, your food." Giving a shrug, he sat on the other bed, keeping an eye on the telly until there was an advert, then turning back. "You want some vampire gathering action that pushes away the memories of the hell nest we were in, I'll take you somewhere you'll like." What he didn't say, but which should be clear, was it meant he wasn't taking Dean to any vampire brothel.
Dean took a long drink of his beer. "I'm just saying that if it ends up you hafta go someplace to get your food from 'volunteers,' I'm coming with, end of discussion. I don't want the memories of go-go bitch and that nest making me imagine things that aren't true. I just gotta see for myself. I see it, I can deal with it," Dean said, leveling his gaze on Spike, sheer Winchester stubbornness in his eyes.
"Things?" Spike held his gaze. "There's no force involved. You won't take my word for it?"
Spike's words cut him and he wasn't quite sure what to say. He'd been lied to by everyone it seemed since he got back. Dean looked down at the beer he cradled in his lap. "Yeah, I'd take your word for it, but it doesn't mean my brain won't latch onto the only thing it knows about nests and their feeding habits. And...I'm gonna be jealous, okay? I wanna see whose blood you're taking." Dean felt something of a flush come to his face at that admission.
"That's going to be a problem, then. I'm going to be jealous wondering which of those bastards will try to steal you away from me," Spike answered just as seriously. He didn't add that his choice last time had been based on whether or not the human reminded him of Dean, of his scent. He licked his lips, then leaned across the narrow space between the two beds and, hooking his finger in the collar of Dean's tee, he pulled Dean closer. "Don't go imagining I want anyone but you. This bit of news might ruin my reputation, but I'm not a vamp-slut when I'm in a relationship. And right now, I'm deep, very deep in a relationship, Dean."
"No one is gonna steal me away," Dean said, running his hand along Spike's face. "I always slept around, a lot. Had two legs and was female, I went after her. When I was with Cassie--not Castiel--I didn't cheat on her. Never thought about it, never wanted to. I know you wouldn't go looking for someone else." Dean ran his hand through his own hair. "It's got nothing to do with trust, or worry about you cheating, or you getting off on someone else's blood. It's me. I just gotta see. I just need that peace of mind." Leaning in further, he kissed Spike. "Show's back on," he murmured against the vampire's lips.
Spike stilled. He was caught, and he knew it. "Right." Slowly pulling back, he sat back on the bed, arranging his pillows. "There's nothing wrong with soap operas. They're a lot like real life." He turned slightly toward Dean. "A little Dean chaser would wash away the taste of anyone else's blood. You could have your cut finger ready," he said, " and if you stand behind the blood doll, you're all I'd be looking at as I fed."
Dean smirked at Spike's protest of his interest in soap operas and the way he sort of fluffed his pillows self-consciously. Dean wasn't about to admit to the fact he watched Passions sometimes, not after that. "I'd think since you sleep during the day, a soap opera isn't something you'd even have the chance to watch. And, oh yeah, I'll give you a Dean chaser, but since you're afraid someone might steal me away, probably best you're the only one to catch the scent of my blood. Since I'm so damned delicious and all," Dean said. "I'm gonna go flip the burgers."
Setting his beer on the nightstand he grabbed the bottle of garlic, opened it, and brought it over to Spike. "You certain garlic won't bother you?"
Spike knocked it away from under his nose, glaring at Dean. "Not inside you, it won't bother me."
"You'll be smelling it on my breath all night. And maybe tasting it in my blood," Dean warned.
Giving the hunter a suspicion filled look, Spike asked. "Why are you suddenly so concerned about my sensibilities?"
"Sensibilities?" Dean asked with a scowl. "You use the most fucked up words. Bad as Sammy. Because I like lots of garlic. And with you maybe, you know, not getting quite so sick off of my blood, I don't wanna screw it up. And I don't want you refusing to sleep beside me tonight cause I smell like garlic and you can't deal."
"Nothing, not even a cross in place of that..." he touched Dean's amulet, "would keep me away, even if it burned like in the old days. I wouldn't be so sure there'll be any sleeping tonight, though. I got a nap," he reminded Dean. His eyes went back to the TV for a moment, then tracked Dean out the door to the grill. When Dean looked back, Spike's fingers tightened around his bottle. "Careful. Acting sexy might be hazardous to your health," he said, his finger running over the similar warning on the bottle. "Might cause you to miss dinner and we both know how much you like your food."
"I'm not missing dinner, and I didn't get a nap. Watch your show," Dean said, but turned so that when he bent over to flip the burgers and sprinkle on the garlic, his ass was facing the room and Spike. He came back inside, grabbed a couple buns, and set them on the grill to brown. After retrieving his beer, he settled down at the table and began to eat the sides that went with his meal, but turned so he was facing the TV. He nearly choked on some of the potato salad. "When the hell did they kill off Fox?" Dean blurted out as he heard the characters talking about it.
Getting up to join Dean, Spike started to answer his question then trailed off. "You know about Fox. And the doctors on 'The Love Doctor'. Might as well just come clean, you'd get a lot more information out of me that way, and guilt-free watching." He dragged the chair around the table so he was next to Dean instead of across from him, and could still look at the screen. "Burgers are done."
"Burgers. Yeah." Dean grabbed a plate, completely ignoring that he just blew any chance to harass Spike about watching soaps and that he would have to admit to his own dirty little secret. Unwrapping some cheese slices, he carried them out the grill and slapped them on the burgers. Dean put the buns on his plate and came back in, doctoring up the buns while he waited for the cheese to melt. He divided his attention between a very smug Spike, the TV, and the grill. As soon as a commercial came on, he dashed out to get the burgers, scooping them off the grill and sliding them onto the buns stacked with lettuce, tomato, extra onions, and every other fixing that went on a proper cheeseburger. He set them down on the table and re-seated himself, brushing his knee against Spike's.
Spike glanced at Dean, then pressed his thigh against the hunter's. Watching as the hunter opened his mouth incredibly wide to bite the thick sandwich, he casually caught him up on Fox and some of the other characters on the show. "I don't think the burger's going to run away from you," he said, noticing how quickly Dean was shoving his sandwich into his mouth. He saw a bit of ketchup drip down from one corner of the hunter's mouth and leaned in, just beating Dean's tongue to it. "You're right, you are delicious. I'm going to have to armor plate you to keep you safe from bloody vampires."
After listening to everything that happened on Passions, Dean was irritated that the last season hadn't been shown on regular cable. He could have used the distraction while he was waiting to go to Hell. "I'm hungry," Dean said around a mouthful of burger when Spike commented on the way he was wolfing it down. He cocked an eyebrow at Spike when Spike licked the ketchup, mustard, or whatever it was off his mouth. He didn't mind, not at all, he was just surprised Spike went for it. Still, Spike did eat a little human food now and again. "Course I'm delicious. Anyone that looks this good has to be," Dean said, setting his burger down and scooping up some baked beans.
"Yes there's a direct correlation there," Spike said with a snort. Watching Dean eat with an appetite he hadn't seen for days, Spike grinned. "You could be in a food commercial. I'll bet you'd be able to make anyone want to try oysters or other raw and bloodless things." It was true, the way the hunter licked his fingers and smacked his lips might not earn him gold stars at a formal dinner but it was good advertising for whatever he was eating.
A strange gnawing in Spike's stomach had the vampire frowning. He wasn't hungry, not after downing the blood Dean had given him. Still, the sensation gave him pause because while, in theory, his earlier feeding should prevent bouts of bloodlust, a mistake could be deadly.
They chatted some more, even talked about the possibility of moving to another town in a few days and then meeting up with Dean's brother. Sensing the topic caused Dean a little stress, Spike didn't ask how Dean wanted to break the news about himself to Sam. There was plenty of time for that.
On his second beer and halfway through his second burger, Dean was beginning to feel full. He finally admitted to watching Passions and asked Spike about some things he had never been clear on, or little subplots that he had missed being resolved. A second episode of Passions had come on and their conversation was punctuated with comments about the characters. Having cleared his plate, he reached for that last half of his burger and was startled to see Spike eating it. "I didn't think you ate burgers," Dean said, looking at Spike with surprise, especially since it had the garlic on it.
"I don't," Spike answered automatically, still chewing. Lifting his hand up, he looked at the last bit of burger left in his grasp, then at Dean, then shrugged and popped it into his mouth. "Told you that you make a good advert. Did you want it?" It was obviously too late for Dean's answer to make a bit of difference.
Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn't say much considering all the times he'd snaked food off of Sam's plate when Sam wasn't eating damned rabbit food. He glanced back at the TV screen then over at the phone. He had a feeling as soon as Passions was over, there was going to be some passion going on in the room.
Standing up, he burped softly. "Mmm, good." He carried what was left of the sides back over to the ice chest and tossed them in. "I really oughta call Sam," he told Spike and picked up his phone. "I'll be just beside the door. If Sam hears the TV show in the background I'll never hear the end of it."
Dean waited patiently for Sam to answer the phone, a frown creasing his brow when Sam didn't pick up and it went to voicemail. "Dude, things are going okay here. We're gonna know in a few days whether or not Spike's gonna be okay, but it's looking better than it did." He hesitated then said, "Friday, head on down to Bridgeville, South Carolina, to that motel we stayed at, the Stables. We'll meet up with you there. If you've had any luck finding that Summers chick, give me a call. I'd still like to talk with her. Thanks, Sammy, for trying to track her down. I'll see you Saturday. Don't kill yourself trying to get there. I'm not going anywhere." After another pause he added. "See you soon."
He wondered if Sam was still pissed at him and had ignored his call. If he was, tough. He'd take more time alone with Spike and wait at that motel until Sam got his head out of his ass.
Dean came back in to find Spike back on the bed, watching the show. He grabbed his beer, set the phone back on the nightstand, and crawled into bed beside Spike.
Spike hadn't been listening but of course he'd heard the message Dean left. Turning his head, he watched Dean lift the bottle, his gut tightening with anticipation as the hunter's lips closed around it and he took a few pulls, his Adam's apple convulsing. Their eyes met, and he was sure there was no hiding his lust for the hunter. He put one hand on Dean's jeans clad thigh, moving it up and down. "She's on my phone under T, for The Slayer." He licked his lips. "But it's a bit late to ask for references, isn't it?"
Seeing the look in Spike's eyes, he doubted he was gonna get any sleep tonight, which was okay with Dean. At Spike's comment though, he winced a little. There was the sound of the TV and he'd closed the door behind him, and yet Spike had heard him? It wasn't like he'd been whispering, but he hadn't been talking loudly either, just speaking in his normal voice. Not like he went outside just to ask Sam for the Slayer's number and to hide the fact from Spike, either. "I asked him to find her number right before we went fishing, when you said I needed to start watching you, when you started to have problems. Being the Slayer, I thought maybe she might have some suggestions about how to help you and get you through it. When I asked him to get your friend's number, you didn't have a phone yet for me to check." Dean shrugged. "Haven't snaked your phone since I gave it to you to see if you put anyone's number in there. Wasn't looking for references, Spike. Was looking for a way to help you." He put his own hand on Spike's thigh and rubbed it. "I didn't want you to know I was trying to call her," he admitted. "I'd kinda wanted to tell her you were sick since you implied you and she were close. I thought she ought to know, but I'd be a little pissed if I was sick and you called Sam or Bobby without me knowing, so I didn't ask you for her number. You were pretty freaked by the whole getting sick thing and already thinking I was gonna push you away. You didn't need that too." He wasn't gonna lie or hide anything from Spike. It was said and done with so Spike could be pissed at him if he wanted to be, but it was all out there on the table. No secrets.
"I see." And he did see. He might have contacted Dean's brother if Dean hadn't done it himself. His gaze dropped to Dean's hand moving on his thigh, then shifted his gaze to move up along his arm and to his eyes. "Snaked my phone. Does that mean 'fiddled' with it?" He ran his own hand up Dean's inner thigh and stopped at the juncture of his legs, his thumb casually moving over Dean's hardening cock.
"Snagged, stole. Sometimes putting it back..." Dean's words trailed off as Spike unabashedly began caressing his cock. He gave a soft little moan. His own hand slid up to Spike's cock, returning the favor. He picked up his beer, enjoying giving and receiving the pleasure he was feeling. Locking gazes with Spike he brought the beer bottle to his mouth, licked his lips, and slowly slid it into his mouth. After taking a pull off of it, he brought the bottle away just far enough that he could lick around the rim, occasionally slipping his tongue inside the bottle before licking around the lip of it again.
"Touched, pressed, played with," Spike drawled, his actions echoing his words, his eyes tracking Dean's tongue and imagining it dragging over his own flesh and dipping inside his mouth. "Did you? Play with my phone, Hunter?" His voice dropped down an octave.
"You've got a lot more interesting things I'd rather play with, Vampire," Dean said. Finishing off his beer, he leaned in close to Spike, kneading his cock and letting his breath wash over Spike's lips. "Course if you want me to play with your phone, I'm sure I could come up with some tantalizing games."
"Oh there are a lot..." Spike brushed his mouth over Dean's, "of games I'd like to play with you. Every part of you," he whispered, his free hand shoving Dean's tee shirt out of the way and moving to his belt buckle. "Christ... I can hear your heart," he murmured. "Like music, the beat getting faster and stronger, don't know if you can even imagine how it feels." Tugging the buckle free, he undid the button with a loud pop. "I like naked games. Let's get your shirt off, hmm?" There were light touches between their lips, each of them testing the other, flirting.
"Isn't the first part of the game getting my shirt off?" Dean teased. No longer rubbing Spike's cock, Dean's hand drifted to Spike's bare stomach, slowly dragging his fingers over the taut muscles there. "Is it like when your teeth are at my throat and the world stops for one long moment, holding its breath, then you sink your teeth in and we're...one. Okay so I suck at being all poetic like you."
"Nothing wrong with the way you suck, nothing," Spike answered with conviction, a shudder of need running through him at Dean's description of how it felt right before he sank his teeth into Dean and joined them in the vampire's way. "And I'm happy to play the 'strip the hunter' game." He moved his hand upwards from Dean's thigh, along his abs to his chest, then grabbed a fistful of his gray tee shirt, yanking him close as he crushed his mouth over Dean's. Pushing past Dean's teeth, he tangled his tongue with Dean's in a heated, aggressive kiss, putting everything he had into it after the hours of agony of watching Dean lick his lips, wipe them with his finger, and stick his tongue in that bottle like he was tongue-fucking it.
A half moan, half snarl broke from Spike. Still holding onto only his shirt, he pulled Dean off the bed and against him, his mouth never leaving Dean's as he walked backwards, weaving around furniture and pulling Dean along until Spike's back was against the corner walls of the room. Moving his legs slightly apart, he dragged Dean closer, thrusting against him, breaking the kiss and ripping the shirt up over his head. A fraction of a second later, his hands were roaming over Dean's bare back, molding him close, loving him as he kissed the daylight out of him.
Although Dean liked to think of himself as not easily kissed breathless, Spike's aggressiveness, mind blowing kisses, and hands that touched him seemingly everywhere at once lit his blood on fire. It took a moment for his stunned mind to react, but finally his brain caught up with his body. Dean fought to take over the kiss as he pressed himself against Spike, shifting his legs and pushing Spike further into the corner. His hands went to Spike's pants and undid the button. Knowing Spike was commando under those black jeans, he carefully unzipped them and pushed them down just a little. With Spike's cock exposed, he took hold of it, running his calloused hand up and down Spike's already firm erection.
A loud groan erupted from Spike. This was his hunter, his boy, with not an ounce of shyness in him. He dove in head first and gave his all, this was who he was, this was the real Dean, embracing life. "Fuck," he rasped, fully approving of Dean's tactics. He cupped the back of Dean's neck with one hand, rubbing the side of his throat with his thumb, and sliding his hand lower, to his shoulder and back. With his other hand, he groped Dean's ass, squeezing it, wanting to feel bare flesh in place of the rough material of his jeans. Leaning in, he kissed Dean again, allowing him to control it, before moving his mouth down over his throat and chest, licking him. "That's it luv, that's it," he said, his eyes drifting shut as Dean started to stroke him, making him ache for more.
So many damned sensations wrapped Dean in lust and desire. Spike's curse made him almost growl in response. He loved the feel of Spike's thumb at his throat, memories of the vampire's teeth haunting him. As Spike began kissing and licking Dean arched a little, groaning in response. Why would anybody in their right mind ever let this man go? Okay so Spike liked to control the love-making. He would break the vampire of that soon enough. Provided he had enough brain cells left after being kissed and licked and loved-on to within an inch of his life.
He ran the palm of his hand over the tip of Spike's cock, wetting it in pre-cum and then stroked him again, lightly thumbed his slit, then gave long slow strokes, adding a bit of a twist. He reached further down, fondling Spike's balls, only to return his hand to Spike's cock, trying hard to keep Spike guessing as to what he would do next.
"So good, so bloody good. Taste, feel, touch," Spike tried to explain, but ended up stuttering another curse when an intense wave of heat flooded his body. It didn't matter where Dean touched him, or how. The result was always the same. Fire. Heat. Lust. Lust so intense he couldn't remember ever feeling like this, needing like this. God, his cock was pulsing in Dean's hand, aching so badly he could barely think. Just when he'd think there was a rhythm he could thrust to, he'd hit air and groan and call Dean all sorts of wicked, or just plain swear at him. He nipped the sensitive flesh of his throat as punishment but the need that slammed into him had him wondering just who was getting punished. "More," he demanded, his mouth moving lower and closing over Dean's nipple. He moved his mouth back and forth, sucking, licking, scraping with his teeth until his tongue was sweeping over a tight nub. Then he moved to Dean's side, stepping back so he could reach lower but snarling a threat. "If you like living, don't stop again."
Spike's mouth on his nipple had him groaning loudly, arching against that mouth that sent waves of pleasure through him in ways he couldn't begin to describe. He had never had a kink about teeth on his flesh, and after Hell, teeth on his flesh should send him spiraling into the throes of fear, but it was Spike, his Spike.
Dean gave a soft chuckle, even knowing it might not be an entirely empty threat what with Spike's bloodlust. "You'd miss me," he said, teasing the vampire's cock more, but groaned and practically spasmed when Spike took hold of his cock. "Oh, god," Dean gasped.
Spike's hand on him had him thrusting and he mirrored his touch on Spike to match what the vampire did to him. As the teasing of one another became mutual, both cursed the other amid groans. Dean captured Spike's mouth, thrusting his tongue in deep, tongue-fucking him hard as his free hand went to Spike's back. He dug his fingernails in, dragging them down Spike's back, then ran his hand back up, feeling the wetness of Spike's blood on his hand and his lust shot through the roof. Breaking off the kiss he began to suck and bite at Spike's neck, his bloodied hand reaching around to focus on Spike's nipple, twisting and rubbing it as he thrust into Spike's hand.
They went at it hard, neither one giving the other quarter. Touching, groping, fingers biting brutally into each others' flesh. Nails digging, damaging flesh. Hard bodies pressing and grinding, moans and grunts echoing between them. They were fighting for control and fighting to have each other, wanting, lusting. Spike's entire body thrummed with need. Breaking his mouth away, he dragged Dean close and spoke against his ear. "Get undressed. Now."
Releasing Dean and pushing him back, Spike started to strip his own clothes, his gaze traveling up and down the golden tanned expanse of Dean's chest, to his swollen cock and back. Once he was done, he walked around Dean and reached into the closet. When he returned, Dean was undressed and stepping out of his jeans. Standing behind him when he straightened, Spike looped a red tie around Dean's face, sliding it over his eyes and quickly tying it behind his head. "You won't be needing your safe word, just..." he turned Dean around and his entire body shuddered with need at the sight. "Sodding hell." Hand in the middle of Dean's chest, he pushed him back, reversing him into the same corner he'd stood in earlier. "Don't move."
Dean felt the walls press against his shoulders, mildly disconcerted by the blindfold but he was in such need he was able to push his concerns aside. He froze at Spike's order then heard the 'click' that he knew only too well. "Tell me you didn't just take a picture of me like this!" Dean growled. "Jesus, Spike," he muttered, feeling his face flush at the thought. "Anyone, and I mean anyone, ever sees that other than me and you and I'll tie you down for a week."
"It's good wanking material, I'll let you borrow it if you're real nice," Spike answered tossing the phone onto the bed and taking a few strides, his hands pressing against the wall on either side of Dean's body under his arms. "Have any idea how you look? Mouth swollen, red covering your eyes, mine for the taking. Kiss me," he whispered, moving his mouth over Dean's but keeping a few centimeters between them, forcing Dean to chase. "Come on... kiss me."
"Anyone ever tell you you're a control-freak?" Dean asked. He listened, but the vampire made little sound and there was no hot wash of breath over his skin except when Spike talked. Letting his instincts guide him, he gave chase to find Spike's lips, managing to brush over them a few times but not really engage. Frustration welled inside him and closed his arms around Spike and pulled Spike up against him, cupping the back of Spike's head and was finally able to press his lips up against his lover's.
The kiss ignited Spike all over again. His mouth moved hard against Dean's as the hunter pushed his tongue inside his mouth and the battle for control started once more. Their tongues moved in turn, in and out of each others' mouth sending Spike's temperature up a few notches. His hands slipped from the wall to slide up and down Dean's body, to crush him against his chest, to make sure every part of them touched.
More, he always needed more where Dean was concerned. With a soft growl, he kneed Dean's legs apart and stepped between them, moaning as their cocks collided. He moved both hands down Dean's back, slapping his ass suddenly and lifting him up so they were as close as possible. Already he was thrusting, waves of pleasure and need making his movements a little wild and a little painful.
Dean gave a small yelp of surprise into Spike's mouth when Spike smacked his ass, and an even louder sound when he found himself pressed into the corner more tightly and his feet off the floor as Spike fucked against him. He was so not used to being the weaker one in the relationship...except in Hell. Dammit, why did those thoughts keep coming up. Why do you think, asshole? Spike's a demon too, he chastised himself. But Spike was nothing like those in Hell. As if to prove that to himself, Dean fought to control the kissing again, tangling his tongue with Spike's in all out war. He moaned as their cocks slid against each other, as their skin rubbed, his own body slick with sweat. He wrapped an ankle around each of Spike's legs, giving himself some leverage to thrust back against the vampire. Reluctantly he broke the kiss, gasping for air. Grabbing Spike's hair, he pulled Spike's head back and used his tongue to trace down from Spike's mouth to the vampire's exposed throat. He bit the front of his neck, giving a growl of pleasure as he bit a little harder then sucked and licked over the bite. With the way Spike had him, he couldn't go any lower which frustrated the hell out of him. He finally pulled his head back and looked into Spike's face though he couldn't see anything but the blackness from the red tie.
"Fuck me," he told Spike. "On the bed. Cuff my wrists above me and take me." He was a little scared at the thought of being restrained while being fucked, afraid of the memories that it would bring up, but he needed it. He needed to prove to himself he trusted Spike, that he could let Spike do anything to him and that Spike wouldn't hurt him. Prove to himself that all those horrible things were really in the past and he could keep them there where they belonged.
He'd been about to fuck Dean right here against the wall but something in the way Dean asked him had Spike agreeing to Dean's desires. Half blind with lust and need, he stumbled slightly as he got them to the bed and dropped Dean down onto his back, following him down but bracing his weight. "Want you, want to fuck you so bad," he said hoarsely, dragging Dean's arm up and using the cuff that was still there from earlier. When Dean lifted his other arm up, Spike shook his head. "No, want you to touch me. Want to feel you pulling at me, alright?" He wasn't about to take all of Dean's control away, it wasn't what Dean really needed. Before Dean answered, Spike was kissing him again with the hunger of a man who hadn't seen his lover in years.
His hands roved over Dean's body, then he started to move down, kissing and licking Dean's throat and making love to every part of him. It wasn't a slow process, but he was thorough, and by the time he kissed his way up Dean's thigh, his cock was dripping heavily. Running his finger over the tip, he spread the liquid down Dean's cock, to his hole. "Open your legs," he said, pulling Dean's knees apart and arranging him so his feet were flat on the bed. He reached for the lube and prepared him quickly.
Spike's kiss had been fire and while he wanted to protest that he wanted both his hands cuffed, he loved that he could run one hand along Spike's body. He pulled at the other cuff occasionally and Spike had him writhing and arching, his skin practically crackling with the energy between them. At this point Spike could have easily gagged him. He wasn't able to make intelligible sounds other than the intermittent curse or the vampire's name. All the other sounds were moans and groans and soft whimpers of pleasure.
"You claimed me, now it's my turn." There was a hint of danger in Spike's voice as he scraped his teeth up along Dean's thigh and pressed his fangs against his artery.
Dean's breath whispered between clenched teeth. "Oh, God, yes, please," Dean begged feeling those teeth at his inner thigh and pressing his leg against the sharp fangs. He was ready to go to the fucking hospital and get a few units of blood put into him, just so he could feel Spike's teeth again, so that he could be joined with Spike so completely.
So tempting, so bloody tempting. As Spike mouthed and sucked and threatened, the urge to bite, to take, raged inside him. They were both insane, Dean for putting himself at risk like this, and Spike for tempting blood lust when Dean couldn't defend himself. He would control himself, he would, and he would prove it by not taking what was offered.
Moving like a whipcord, he sat up on his knees, away from the temptation of that artery. He ran his hands down the length of Dean's body, slightly damp and shiny now with a sheen of sweat. When he couldn't bear it for one more instant, he grasped Dean's thighs and lifted him, aligning his cock to his hole. Eyes closed, he thrust lightly, teasing both of them as he prepared to breach.
Dean groaned when Spike didn't bite him, even though he knew it was a foolish wish. His disappointment was short lived though as suddenly Spike was pressing his cock against Dean's hole. "Fuck," Dean gasped, trying to push back on that tempting cock, only to be thwarted by the way Spike held him. He tugged at the cuff violently, unable to reach Spike even with his one free hand.
"Ungh, Spike, dammit," he cursed as Spike continued to bounce lightly against his hole. He resisted the urge to pull off the blindfold, wanting to see Spike. The realization that by not seeing Spike's muscled chest, his desire to hurt and carve into flesh was near absent, struck him like cold water. He didn't need to hurt his lover. If he had no deep desire when he couldn't see, then he could beat it when he could see. He knew now he would have the strength to deny it, now that he understood the trigger.
"Hold still for another picture," Spike said silkily through half-lidded eyes focused on Dean's hand and face, Dean's struggle was his struggle, he could see it, could feel it. "Just a joke hunter, relax," he whispered, pulling Dean toward him as he thrust his hips, teeth clenched, head falling slightly when he relentlessly pushed himself completely inside Dean. Dean was so tight around him it almost hurt not to move, not to give in to the desire to fuck him as hard as he could. "Bloody hell, you're tight as a virgin." A muscle twitched in Spike's jaw as Dean's slightest movement sent heat and desire raging through him. His balls were tight and pressed against Dean's ass, rubbing gently against him, the sensation making Spike crazy, making him want to shove deeper inside his lover, to bury himself so deep Dean would never forget.
Dean was so going to kill him if he was taking another picture, but when Spike told it was just a joke, he would have breathed a small sigh of relief if he could've. The only thing he could do was throw back his head and groan in pain as Spike pushed inside him, splitting him so far open he was certain he would walk strange for a week. He was panting when Spike finally rested fully inside him and the burning stretch began to ease. He knew the pleasure that was coming and knew how worth it this bit of pain would be.
"Course," Dean gritted. "I practically am," he said as he shifted a little trying to ease the burn and pressure. "Maybe that's why my blood tastes so damned good. You're the first," he panted, "I've ever let take me. At least when I was alive." He gave something of a nod. "Okay, go for it," he said, wishing again he could see Spike's face. "But kiss me first."
"Oh God... that's wicked, very wicked," Spike groaned, sure that Dean's words were calculated to inflame his desire. Dropping forward, a grunt left him at the sensations flooding him from shifting slightly inside Dean. His gaze swept over his blindfolded hunter. "Even tied up and blindfolded, you don't look... vulnerable. At my complete mercy," he said struggling for words. "It's what I love about you. You kiss me. Show me what you want. But be quick about it," he added, bringing his open mouth down over Dean's.
How was it Spike could say the simplest things, or even poetic things, and it seemed to be absolutely perfect, absolutely what Dean wanted or needed to hear. Strangely, he didn't feel vulnerable, not like the last time when he had his knees pulled up and Spike was tonguing his ass. Yet he was blindfolded and cuffed but he knew Spike was his, totally and completely and though he was the one tied up, he was really the one in control. As soon as Spike was kissing him he showed the vampire exactly what he wanted. He wrapped his legs around Spike, groaning a little as he pulled Spike deeper inside him. Cupping the back of Spike's head, he took over Spike's mouth, his tongue flicking everywhere, tasting and investigating. Spike let him have complete control and that only encouraged him to take Spike's mouth more passionately and the pain of Spike inside him faded into the background. Sucking on Spike's tongue, then nipping at his lower lip only to suck on it, then pressing his lips hard against the vampire's, it drove him crazy. He went to put his other arm around his lover, to caress his back, but was brought up short by the cuff and growled, pulling at it hard, but finally accepting it. His wrist hurt at this point, he had fought the cuff so much. He was grateful Spike had left his one hand free or he would be crazy with need to touch the man on top of him.
Finally breaking the kiss, he murmured, "Love you." And he knew he meant it.
"Me too, but don't bleed. Please don't bleed," Spike answered shakily, knowing it was too late even as he glanced up at the cuffs around Dean's wrist. He couldn't see the blood but its scent tinged the air. "It's like bloody catnip," he complained, even as his senses sharpened and his need became absolute. He pulled out slightly and then plunged his full length deep inside Dean's tight channel, this time pumping in and out of him, letting Dean set the pace and whispering about how good it felt, to be inside him, to be with him like this. With Dean it was never hard, they were always in synch. Spike fucked, Dean lifted his hips to meet him thrust for thrust, drawing him deep, clenching around him, pulling more words, more praise from Spike. "Love you. Love you, Hunter, all of you."
Moving faster, harder, Spike loosened his grip on Dean's hip, hooking his arm under the hunter's shoulder instead and using it to gain more leverage, to pull him up harder against him though all the force in the world could hardly get them closer or himself deeper. Moans of pleasure broke from him each time Dean's warmth clenched around his aching cock, giving him what he needed. He shifted, found the right angle to make it good for his lover and started to pump in and out of him with desperation. He tried to focus on this, on the sensations, tried to ignore the blood... the needs it stirred. This was good, it was more than enough, it was intense and all encompassing and Spike was bloody well not going to turn it into something else.
Dean hadn't noticed but could feel the slightest bit of wetness at the cuff, and felt guilty, not having even thought about it in his effort to pull free. That guilt was quickly washed away by the pleasure of feeling Spike begin to move inside him. As much as he loved it when Spike bit him, this was just as perfect. They were one in an entirely different way, a way he had never really felt before. All of Spike's words made him happy, made him want to make it even better for his lover. Spike let him have all the control, though when Spike began to hit his prostate with every thrust, he wasn't sure who had control at that point. Both. Neither. It didn't matter. His own words of how good it felt, of how perfect Spike was, of how much he loved the vampire slipped from his lips.
"So perfect, so god dammed perfect," Dean rasped as he pushed back against everything Spike gave him. He didn't ask Spike to come. Spike didn't ask him. They both knew it would happen when it did, when everything was truly perfect and ready. They were together just as if Spike had his teeth buried in Dean's throat, just as if Dean held a knife and blood spilled from cuts on Spike's chest. One. Forever.
Every word Dean spoke was true. "If there's such a thing as a 'divine plan', and it applies to the likes of me... you were made for me. A century late, but still made just for me." The quake in Spike's belly sharpened. Crashing his mouth over Dean's, he kissed him hard one last time, then lifted slightly and started to fuck him single-mindedly. Everything else was forgotten. Who they were, what they were, even the scent of blood teasing Spike, all of it was gone. It was only Spike, and his lover. He slammed harder and harder into Dean, there... almost there... His balls tightened painfully. He grimaced, then shouted Dean's name as he came hard, filling Dean up, pumping into him as Dean's cum spread hotly across his stomach. "Bloody hell," he bit his lower lip as he immediately came again, his body shuddering as he collapsed over Dean.
Simultaneous. Synchronous. Blinding pleasure, names shouted, screamed, whispered as heat washed both inside and out. Tremors and aftershocks echoing along nerves so overwhelmed that pleasure and pain merged into a single experience.
Dean was totally and completely drenched with sweat. He felt the wetness of his cum between their bodies as Spike lay on top of him. He ran his fingers slowly up and down Spike's back as he nuzzled the vampire's neck and breathed in the scents of sex and everything else. He closed his eyes, hand still resting gently on Spike's back and let the fading adrenalin seep from his body as sleep enveloped him.
* * *
Dean slowly opened his eyes to darkness. He looked around but couldn't even see shadows. He felt a weight on top of him, a dead weight, no heat, no heartbeat, no breath, and felt a moment of panic before his brain slowly kicked into gear. Remembering, he gave a small sigh of relief and pulled off the blindfold. Tugging at his wrist, he found he was still cuffed.
Nudging Spike a little he was surprised he got no response. Twisting his head he murmured into Spike's ear. "C'mon Dude, time to uncuff the hunter now." Huh. Still no response. Either Spike was being a pain in the ass, or he was asleep. With a lift of his hips and a twist, he managed to roll Spike off of him. So how the hell was he going to get uncuffed? He suddenly recalled Spike had set the key on the nightstand and glancing over he could see its dull gleam. It was a reach but he finally touched it with his fingers and managed to pull it close enough to grab. Unfastening his wrist, he gratefully lowered his arm and rubbed his wrist with a wince. Definitely bruised and one small spot was especially tender, probably where he'd cut himself.
So 'his' type of vampire slept deeply but not like the dead. Spike's type, when they were out, they were out cold. He imagined it wouldn't take a lot to wake Spike up but since it was still night time, that he was asleep made Dean feel a little proud. He'd apparently worn the vampire out, surely no small feat.
He admired the vampire's body, the ridges of muscles that were lightly shadowed while other parts were black as night. Spike was beautiful in the dim lighting, like an alabaster statue carved by some great artist, lying on his side, the sheet draped over his hips, his legs showing just below the knees. He just stared at Spike for awhile, loving looking at him. He doubted a picture would come out, but he finally got out of bed, grabbed his phone, and tried anyway. Yeah, not a great picture. After a moment of hesitation, he turned a light on low and watched Spike but the vampire didn't stir. Spike's body wasn't quite the artistic gleam of shadows it had been, but he was still beautiful, and the red runic whorl on his shoulder showed plainly. His mark on the vampire and he smiled at that thought. He took a picture of all of Spike, then just of his face and shoulders. He looked so damned peaceful.
Setting the phone aside Dean sat down on the bed and ran his hand lightly over Spike's shoulder and down his arm then traced his fingers along Spike's muscular chest. Never would he have thought he would fall for a man but he had. And Spike loved him more totally and completely than anyone ever had except for family. They truly hardly knew each other but they seemed such a perfect fit. They had the same sense of humor, seemed to like a lot of the same things, were comfortable with each other, and they each understood, really understood, the needs the other one fought. Spike liked bloodplay. Dean liked Spike biting him. Another perfect fit. There was no doubt that he had to fight the need for the bloodplay, for wanting to mark that untouched canvas of flesh, but he thought, or at least hoped, that now he could. That didn't mean he wouldn't or couldn't do it in the future, but he would fight not to do it when the need was as much on him as when bloodlust was on Spike. They were helping each other through being broken, helping each other find the strength to beat their addictions. Spike had been right. They were each other's addictions after a fashion. Maybe that was part of what love was all about though, needing the other so much it hurt.
He hadn't dreamed again while he slept with Spike. Maybe that's why he wasn't sleeping a lot. He'd gotten so little sleep since he had returned that the sleep he got lying with Spike was more rest than he was accustomed to. It felt so good, so normal to actually sleep and not wake up screaming, well screaming inside his mind at any rate. Or sleep without needing to be drunk. It was almost funny that a vampire made him feel human and something approaching whole. He still had the dark pit inside him, but it wasn't so empty anymore. For the first time since he had returned he was actually glad he could feel so that he could feel love for this man lying in the bed.
He flicked back the sheet, revealing all of Spike. Grinning to himself, he wondered just what it would take to awaken the vampire and decided to find out. He studied Spike's body, trying to decide how he wanted to wake Spike up. He had to be careful of a sleepy Spike. Spike might forget his vampiric strength if he was half asleep and in the throes of passion. Probably also best to keep his throat away from Spike until Spike ate something, or at least was awake enough to control himself, just in case.
Resituating himself, Dean first leaned in and licked across Spike's nipple. No response. He began to suck on it lightly, laving his tongue around and around it, bringing it tight. He got a very mild response and, encouraged, slipped to Spike's other nipple and did the same while gently toying with the one his mouth had just abandoned. Glancing down he saw that Spike might not be awake, but the vampire's body was beginning to take an interest in what he was doing. He licked and sucked his way along muscles, nipping occasionally and began to run his hand along Spike's exposed side. Obviously Spike was still asleep, so Dean decided to push up the stakes. He tickled Spike's cock with his tongue, touching it and giving small little licks here and there, running his tongue along Spike's balls and then delving a little deeper. That was definitely eliciting some soft moans from the sleeping vampire. Ever so gently he guided Spike onto his back then returned to toying with his cock. Sliding his arms under Spike's thighs he pushed them up so he could reach Spike's hole. He licked over it and pressed his tongue against it, pushing the tip of his tongue in a little more as he began a slow tongue fucking of Spike's ass. One hand went to Spike's cock, brushing his fingers over it like a whisper, a maddening tease. Dean's efforts were being rewarded as he saw Spike's cock growing thicker and more erect, and even a bead or two of cum began to form.
The cold black darkness that surrounded Spike started to develop cracks. Like a tinted tempered window with red cracks spidering and spreading across its surface, and bringing with it warmth, then heat. Spike reached for the heat, murmuring his disappointment when it escaped from his touch and moved elsewhere. His peace was disturbed by a growing sense of frustration. He turned his head, seeking that elusive heat and then he found himself engulfed by it, burning from the center of his body, the fire spreading like a wildfire. A deep sound reverberated around him. Only as he opened his heavy lidded eyes did he realize the sound had come from him and that what he was burning for was for Dean's mouth to descend and completely take his cock inside. He was being played with, toyed with by his lover whose face was mostly hidden as he pushed his hot wet tongue in and out of Spike.
Groaning again, Spike deliberately whispered. "Marshall."
Dean froze when he heard that damning word, jealousy burning inside him. Spike was still thinking about that-that-that troll? He straightened up ready to just let Spike end up with blueballs, if vampires got blueballs, when he saw Spike was watching him, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Dean shoved himself forward, practically pouncing on top of Spike.
"You're a shit. Grade A, one hundred percent. shit," he said, looking down into the vampire's laughing blue eyes. "I ought to just leave you like this." He ground his groin against Spike's.