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Summary: Dean is a broken man who is plagued not only by memories of the horrific things he's done, but also by lingering dark needs that he can't control. For him, there is no hope, until he meets the vampire Spike under circumstances that could finish them both.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Spike-Centered(Past Donor)CasFR1819157,38473014,40627 Jan 1127 Oct 12Yes

Chapter 15

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It was night and the bar was tightly packed because some competitions that seemed very popular were scheduled for later in the evening. In the meantime, there was a bit of dancing going on in the slightly raised stage area where bands played or where the competitions would be held. Standing at the bar and waiting for the beers he'd ordered, Spike's gaze wandered back to the dancers. Even if this place were more mixed so they wouldn't be the only males dancing with each other, Dean had already stated he didn't dance. It wasn't the dance that Spike wanted, it was the closeness. Watching the couples dancing, their bodies sliding together, it made him want what he'd been craving all day. His love, in his arms.

They had to be the most cursed couple in the world he thought, turning his head to where Dean and Sam stood around a tall round table. All day long all they'd managed were secret touches and looks passed between himself and Dean. They would find time to be alone before the night ended and they went their separate ways, Spike vowed, but every time they tried, it was like the world conspired against them. If it wasn't Sam, it was something else. Earlier in the day, Sam had gone off to the laundry, making it clear he wouldn't be back for hours. Words hadn't been exchanged but Spike took it to mean he was giving them time. Time neither one wanted to waste. The instant they saw Sam drive off, they were in the room, the door slamming shut, and they were half naked before they ever hit the bed. Then there had been the knocking on the door, which they were prepared to ignore until they heard "manager coming in."

Plumbing issues. Bloody hell, they'd sat on the bed, paced across the floor, and even gone for a short walk, but it had taken management the entire time that Sam was away. When Sam walked in, they'd both snapped at him like it was his fault. Spike had caught his mumbled complaints about having expected them to be more relaxed and not so uptight when he got back.

Spike had gone out for a smoke and Dean had followed, taking a hit himself. Somehow they'd found themselves in the Impala, planning where they'd go and park for a quick fuck when the sound of cars crashing had them looking up to see an accident on the street. The cars were blocking the exit, which meant they couldn't leave the parking lot at all. They'd gone to the backseat anyway and there had been a bit of dry humping and kissing, but they gave up when the sirens wouldn't stop and people kept walking into the lot. All Spike knew was that the little taste of Dean laying on top of him, it had been a mistake. Hours had passed but there was a low grade fire burning inside him and each time he was close to Dean, it intensified.

"Come on, mate, where are the beers?" he demanded, impatient now to be next to the source of his torture.

Dean watched Spike through the crowd. He glanced at the dance floor and maybe if he wouldn't be so self-conscious of being the only guy out there with another guy, he would have let Spike drag him out there. He had appreciated the hell out of Sam going off to do the laundry, but that hadn't worked out. Making out in the car hadn't worked out. They'd tried to find a secluded spot behind a building and got back there only to find guys pressure washing the back side for painting. Who the fuck painted the back side of a building that no one would ever see anyhow? The nearby park didn't have enough cover and there were too many kids around. They'd been told about a gay bar and they got there only to find it was shut down for the day for pest control spraying. They couldn't catch a fucking break. Literally.

"I appreciate you trying to give us time today," Dean said to Sam.

Sam gave a shrug. "Sorry it got screwed up."

Dean turned toward the dance floor when some announcer said it was time to clear out, it was time for the competitions to start and one of the first things up was a wet t-shirt contest. He watched the rush to the bathrooms and smirked. Yeah, the guys weren't going to want to miss this.

When the lights dimmed and the stage lights came on, Spike finally got back to the table with their beers. Instead of looking at the dance floor like everyone else, he watched Dean bring the bottle to his lips. Whether the hunter was torturing him on purpose or not, the effect on Spike's body was the same. All he knew was that Dean was taking an incredibly long time drinking, his lips wrapping tightly around the bottle that moved slightly back and forth as Dean swallowed. By the time the hunter put the bottle down, Spike was rock hard, his cock straining painfully against his zipper. In the dark he grabbed Dean's hand and lowered it over his cock, pressing against it, then let both their hands drop.

It took all of Dean's control not to groan at feeling Spike's cock under his hand, and the feel of Spike's very firm erection had his own body responding. He looked up at the stage and the good-looking women gathering on it, then at the crowd. His gaze slid over to the bathroom. Yeah, no guy would want to miss this...

"Gotta piss," Dean said and gave Spike a look that said for Spike to follow him, knowing Spike would be able to plainly see his face even in the dim lighting.

Giving a barely perceptible nod, Spike waited two minutes before he left Sam to his own devices and made his way to the bathroom. "Dean?" His voice was rough with desire as he pushed the door open, hoping they were alone.

Dean was just inside the door. The bathroom, as he'd hoped, was empty. He immediately pulled Spike into a kiss as he walked Spike back toward the handicapped stall. It was big and even had its own sink. Another bonus was that it was kind of off to the side so someone walking in wouldn't immediately take note of it.

He had his tongue in Spike's mouth almost as soon as their lips touched and was already sliding one hand under Spike's shirt while the other went to Spike's belt. He had the belt undone and the button to Spike's jeans open by the time they reached the open stall.

Spike backed into the stall, dragging Dean with him, then pushing Dean up against the door, he made it shut. He slid the lock into place and immediately started undoing Dean's jeans. His mouth moved furiously over Dean's, his tongue thrusting in and out of his lover's mouth, dancing and battling. His blood was on fire, and the sound of Dean's zipper opening almost undid him. Impatiently shoving Dean's pants and shorts down to his hips, he plastered his body against Dean, groaning as his own exposed cock rubbed against Dean's.

He broke the kiss only to allow Dean to take a breath. "Hunter, I miss you, miss this, miss..." he couldn't go on another second without kissing Dean again. Crushing his mouth over Dean's, he cupped his neck and kissed him with all the passion that had been building over these last hellish days.

The fire and passion in Spike's kiss had Dean responding just as readily. Even for all the fuck-ups today, it had been great just having Spike with him. This, though, this he had been craving practically since he'd set eyes on Spike this morning. Spike didn't give him a chance to answer so he answered the only way he could. He pulled Spike so close it was almost too close for them to rub against each other. Shifting, he turned them so he had Spike pushed up against the wall. He wanted to kiss Spike all over, sample every inch of his flesh but he was absolutely burning up with need.

"Love you," Dean managed to get out when Spike gave him a moment to breathe again. "Want you. Want in you."

Dean's words lanced through Spike and had him grinding harder against his lover, ready to give whatever Dean wanted. "Yes, I want that," he answered, bringing his mouth down over Dean's one more time, kissing him hard, his tongue moving aggressively inside Dean's mouth, reclaiming him until Dean was literally was out of breath. Eyes locked with Dean's, he slowly turned around to face the door and put his palms against it. "Fuck me."

Groaning, Dean wanted to do exactly that. He also wanted to take his time, tongueing Spike's hole, caressing his cock, but after the way the day, he didn't want this ruined or interrupted. He shoved Spike's jeans down to his hips, then stroked his own cock, spreading his heavily dripping pre-cum down his shaft. Glancing over at the sink, he saw there was liquid soap and quickly got some on his fingers. He slowly pushed his soapy fingers inside Spike, loving the way Spike reacted and he sank his teeth in to the vampire's shoulder as he began to scissor and stretch Spike. He didn't want to just shove it in. Who knew if they'd ever...Dean clamped down on that thought. He really didn't want their last time making love to be in a bathroom stall in some bar, but he was with Spike and that truly was all that mattered.

Reaching around with his other hand, he began stroking Spike's cock, and began sucking on the side of Spike's neck, sucking in time to the finger fucking and the stroking.

"Ungh..." Spike's head dropped down. Watching Dean's hand move up and down his shaft added another dimension to the sensations ripping through him each time Dean's fingers moved inside him and with each bite or kiss the hunter delivered. "Fuck..." He started to thrust into Dean's fist, then with his hands flat on the door, pressed back against Dean's fingers, making him go deeper. "Times I wake up, those are the worst. Because I've dreamed of being with you, of touching you. Touching you in all sorts of bad ways. Then I find I'm alone, and hard. So bloody hard."

"I like when you touch me in bad ways," Dean said in between sucking and nipping at Spike's throat. "I've dreamed of you too. When the nightmares aren't tearing me up. I've missed you so damned much this past week. I told Sam when this apocalypse thing is done, you and me, we're going to be together. I've stared at the pictures of you in my phone until they're burned into my brain."

Dean finally aligned his cock to Spike's hole. "Oh, God," he said softly, just the feeling of Spike's cheeks around his tip making him shudder in delight. He slowly pushed in, moaning in sheer pleasure but he also felt something more, something so much deeper inside of him. He knew this wasn't just about having sex. He could feel it in the way his heart beat, the way his gut clenched, the way he wanted to devour the man in front of him.

"Go on." Spike pushed against the door, his wiry muscles flexing with the effort. Just as Dean's thick cock split him open and started to sink inside him, shudders of pleasure rippled through his entire body. The pain was irrelevant. Pain was pleasure when it came to this man. "Ungh... Dean..." He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed as Dean pressed forward, burying himself completely. Spike clenched his muscles around Dean, gasping at the heat that flooded low in his belly. "I'm so hot for it, hunter. Take me, fuck me," he half-pleaded, half-demanded, pulling slightly away and then back, impaling himself on Dean's rigid cock.

Pure heaven. Pushing inside him, feeling Spike clench and unclench around him, Dean swore Spike felt a little warmer. It was a warm velvet heat that his cock sank into and he bit hard into Spike's shoulder to keep from crying out. He rested inside, reveling at being inside Spike more than letting Spike get used to him. When Spike pumped once against him, his knees practically went weak from the pleasure.

Spike's words drove fresh lust through him and he began to give Spike exactly what he wanted, taking and claiming Spike every time he pistoned inside him. He tried to stroke Spike's thick and dripping cock just right each time he brushed over Spike's prostate. He moved faster and faster, chasing to find his release. The sounds of the crowds outside grew louder and his own breaths seemed to grow louder in his own ears. "Love you, missed you," was all that seemed to come from his mouth between his grunts and groans.

"Yes... bloody fucking... yes," Spike choked out as Dean fucking him hard, propelling him into the door twice before Spike braced himself. He heard the door to the bathroom open, but turned his head and snarled. "Don't you stop hunter, not for anything. Don't stop." He was on fire and if he didn't come now, when it might be their last chance together, he would regret it forever. "Yes, yes," he chanted, adding a "fuck off," to the person who'd come in and made a comment, then left. He didn't care what anyone thought or saw, he didn't even care that Dean might care. He was consumed by a need that was as strong as his bloodlust had ever been.

"Want... want blood..." Spike said, clenching and shuddering around Dean as his lover throbbed against his prostate. "Give me your hand. Just... a little... am in control," he promised, though he was in a state of aroused panic, afraid this would be taken from him before the night was out.

Dean didn't hesitate. He shifted his arm up so Spike could reach his wrist. Sam would probably hate it, but he didn't give a shit. "I'm close," Dean managed to say, warning Spike not to wait.

"Just a taste," Spike answered, gripping Dean's wrist like he was afraid he'd pull it away, but licking the pad of his middle finger. "Fuck me," he demanded, slashing his fang across Dean's finger and covering the wound with his mouth. Lust and pleasure slammed into him so hard he saw white lights dancing behind his eyelids. Moaning wantonly, he fucked Dean's fist and pushed back against his cock, drinking, licking, pressing his tongue against Dean's flesh to coax out a little more of his hot, spicy blood.

Spike's world narrowed suddenly and it was a race to the finish. Their moans and grunts echoed off the bathroom walls, increasing in tempo and volume. Spasms of intense pleasure suddenly raged through Spike with hardly any warning. He shoved himself back against Dean, groaning at the deep penetration as the first rope of cum shot from him, coating the graffiti covered surface of the door.

Dean expected to feel Spike's teeth sink into his wrist and wasn't prepared for the burning cut he felt on his finger, but the way Spike sucked on it was almost as erotic. When Spike suddenly shoved back on Dean's cock sucking hard on his finger as he felt Spike's cum coat his hand, that was it. Dean let out with a wild cry as he shoved in as deep as he could and felt the heat coiling in him suddenly release. He continued pumping through his release even as he continued to stroke his lover, wanting it to be as perfect as it could possibly be for both of them.

"Yes, yes..." Spike hissed, laying his head back on Dean's shoulder and moving with him. reveling in how it felt to have Dean inside him, a part of him. Unconsciously, he pressed on the pad of Dean's finger and licked it again, intensifying even the last waves of his orgasm. He didn't want this to end, he didn't want to acknowledge this was all the time they had together, so he barred those thoughts from his mind and enjoyed what they did have, here and now.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, listening to the crowds, the sound getting louder as someone else walked in and took care of business. Once the guy left, Dean pulled out of him so slowly, Spike wondered if the same thoughts were running through his lover's head.

Using the paper towels next to the sink, Spike quickly cleaned up. Dean was doing the same, and neither of them spoke. Their hands met under the running water, and then Spike was pulling Dean into his arms again and kissing him. This goodbye was nothing like the last one. "Call me. Promise me you'll call me," he demanded between heated kisses. "I don't care if you say nothing, if I just listen to you breathe, know you're on the other end, that you're thinking of me. Promise me."

"I promise," Dean choked out. He knew it went against the bargain he had made with Sam. He would be pissed at Sam if Sam started calling Ruby, but this was different, he argued to himself. He wouldn't talk with Spike. Maybe just tell him he loved him. He had voicemail on his phone. He could leave messages for Spike on his voicemail or something. They could set up a time for Spike to call and he could let it go to voicemail and he could tell Spike what he was doing and how much he thought about him and loved him. God, Spike was turning him into a chick, but he didn't care. He finally pulled away from Spike and worked his ring free of his finger. Taking Spike's hand he put it on Spike's middle finger.

"It's, uh, it's great for opening beers with," Dean said, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled Spike back into a kiss, kissing him so long he was beginning to get light headed from lack of air. He finally broke it off because he had to, not because he wanted to.

The sounds from the bar were changing and obviously a break was happening. The restroom would be filling up again. "C'mon. We better...." Dean gave a nod toward the door. He ran his hand along the side of Spike's face, then let it drop away, wiping at his eyes stinging with tears.

When Dean took Spike's hand, his face grew stoic. He unlatched the door to the stall then headed on out of the bathroom, into the bar, working his way through the crowd. He wasn't going to let Spike go until Sam said he had to.

Sliding around the table and pulling Spike with him, he cleared his throat and picked up his beer, downing about half of it. His eyes went to Sam. "Good show?" he asked, his voice still thick with emotion.

Sam gave a bored shrug in answer but studied his face, then Spike's profile.

Staring at the stage, Spike felt Sam's gaze. He knew that he and Dean were standing very close and that you wouldn't have to be too observant to figure out there was some hand holding going on. He didn't give a fuck. If their time was running out, then it was running out and he'd spend the last few minutes touching Dean. The harder they held hands, the more he was reminded of the presence of Dean's ring on his finger. It was as much a mark as the rune tattoo carved on Spike's shoulder.

"Dean." Sam bumped into him lightly, then nodded toward the vampire. "You want him to hang out with us, he can. It's fine," he said in a low voice.

Dean stared at his younger brother, surprise clear on his face. He was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask what this meant about Ruby, if Sam would still give her up, but he was getting more and more selfish, wanting Spike to stay with him and thinking he'd deal with Sam and Ruby somehow, in a way that didn't cost him Spike. A lot of things came to mind to say but he finally settled on straightening and meeting his brother's gaze square on. "Yeah. I would."

Looking at Spike, he let go of Spike's hand and put his arm around Spike's waist and turning, pulled him close so he was staring down into Spike's face. He felt like his heart was going to burst. He didn't have to give up Spike. He actually could maybe have a little happiness, at least for a little while. He broke into a sudden grin. "So what do you say, you wanna hang with me and Sam?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it, wanting to see the look in Spike's blue eyes.

Spike had tried not to react to Sam's offer, though he'd heard it as it was whispered. But now, now there was no reason to school his features and he gave a broad smile, hardly able to prevent himself from lifting Dean in his arms and kissing him right there. "My reputation is already shot for 'hanging' with goody goods, so why the bloody hell not?" He brought his hands to Dean's sides, held him like that for a moment as they exchanged happy looks, then turned to Sam.

"I'm good at being quiet, you'll hardly notice I'm about," he promised, lying through his teeth, not that it was a secret to either of the two men standing there.

Dean chuckled. "Sure you are," he said, not wanting to let Spike go, but since Spike wasn't going anywhere, he felt he could. He turned back to his beer and studied Sam. "Y'know, I think this calls for a celebration of some sort. I know Jackson has this old theater. It used to have musicals and plays and shit. When we get back to the room, Sam, why don't you look it up, see if it's still open and has anything going on. Half the day tomorrow will be driving, and then leg work. We probably won't have anything we're doing that we can't take a couple hours off from. I wanna do something that you'd enjoy. You're always putting up with my movies and my music. Tomorrow, it's your turn. Whatever you want. You just name it. Even," and here Dean paused and grimaced slightly, "opera or whatever. You just have to explain to me what's going on if that's what we end up doing." He looked at Sam. "I mean it."

Dean found his hand entwining with Spike's without even realizing it until Spike gave his hand a light squeeze.

"Oper--" Spike tried to help Sam make a decision.

"Opera?" Sam echoed Dean, making a face, and then locking gazes with Spike. "You like opera?"

"No, not an opera man at all," Spike quickly denied. "Ah... how about extreme fighting?"

Dean looked over at Spike. "You don't seriously like opera?"

Sam gave a soft snort. "Why not? You like soap operas and Oprah."

"I do not!" Dean protested. "It just...just happens to come up when there's nothing else on. Better than game shows or infomercials. Least they got hot chicks on it usually."

"You like Oprah?" Spike gave Dean a look of disbelief. "What about that other bloke, Jerry Springer? We don't have to watch that, do we?"

"I don't watch Jerry Springer! I don't watch Oprah unless I'm channel surfing and stop because they're talking about something that sounds interesting." Dean's gaze slid between Sam and Spike. "I got a feeling I'm gonna have two people giving me shit instead of just one," he said, finishing off his beer and promptly taking Spike's.

"Just like you don't watch the Love Doctors," Spike and Sam said almost in unison. Surprised looks were exchanged by all three men who laughed and slowly eased into a natural flow of conversation that hadn't been there all day. As loyalties switched, it became very clear to them that each was game and would have to keep on guard for the other two. To Spike, what seemed an impossibility in the morning crystallized into a distinct possibility by nightfall. His luck had turned, and now, he had something to fight for in his life. Not just one person, but two. There was no Dean without Sam, and there was no Sam without Dean, so he'd just have to make sure they were both safe, that was all there was to it. His thumb moved over the ring on his finger and he caught Dean watching him.

Dean gave a small smile and took a drink from the stolen beer. It felt weird not having his ring on, but to see it on Spike, that made him feel good. He saw that Sam's eyes went briefly to the ring and then to Dean's hand where a white band of flesh showed which marked the ring's usual place. There was a little amazement in his eyes as he met Dean's gaze. Dean smirked at him and gave a small shrug.

* * *

Dean had managed to catch Spike off guard when they got back to the motel and carried him over the threshold. "Just proving who the chick is," Dean said and that had Sam laughing while Spike was putting on a show of sputtering indignation.

They switched sleeping arrangements and Spike and Dean took the same bed but Sam threatened to cut their balls off if he heard any signs of sex from their bed because then he'd have to gouge his ears out along with his eyes. He then went on to threaten to make Spike get his own room if they didn't behave. When Spike started to suggest the bathroom instead, one look from Sam shut that idea down before he ever finished his comment.

Dean slept peacefully for the first time in a week, wrapped in Spike's arms.

The drive to Jackson was filled with laughter and teasing and occassional lulls in conversation. It being daytime, Spike fell into vampiric sleep for a few hours and the brothers quickly discovered nothing woke him up. Good for his word, Dean let Sam listen to the music he wanted. Sam cut him some slack and played music he knew Dean wouldn't positively hate.

Sam had found the theater was still operating and got them tickets to see 'The Man of La Mancha.' Though they were in the middle of research, Spike had talked both brothers into taking the time off to go see the show. Dean quickly decided he was Don Quixote, Sam was Sancho Panza the sidekick, which he changed to 'Samcho Pansy', Spike was Dulcinea del Tabasco (instead of Toboso since Spike was so hot) and the Impala was obviously Rocinante, Quixote's horse, which he changed to 'Roxy.'

Afterwards, when they returned to the motel, Spike yanked Dean out of the room, announcing loudly, "I'm just borrowing Don Quixote here, have to feed him some tabasco, yeah?"

Sam's utter disgust and shout of "too much information" as he slammed the door after them had the pair laughing as they made their way to the roof where they could trade blow jobs undisturbed. Spike's motto was there could never be 'too much sex' between him and Dean. In fact, as the days wore on, it became clear that too little sex ended up as trouble in the form of all night long torture when they were in bed together and had to behave. Sometimes it was impossible, but Sam was a light sleeper and his sighs or the change in his breathing would make it clear he was awake, putting a stop to any bed play either he or Dean started.

Three days later, they'd solved the missing persons case. Sam admitted that they worked well together and that it wasn't bad having Spike around. Instinctively, all three of them gave room and space to the other two at different times. Spike often told Sam and Dean to get lost and do the 'brothers thing' because he needed sleep or gave some other excuse. Sam unsubtly gave them space so they could have sex or 'whatever' was his comment when he saw evidence of leather ties on the bed post. Even Dean disappeared once in a while, wanting Spike and Sam to bond, though he was irritated when Spike wouldn't give him the blow by blow details of what they'd talked about and he knew it related to Ruby, and to the time Sam had been alone.

Spike's blood lust was under complete control. He fed mostly on mixes of human and cow blood, with just a little of Dean's blood making anything go down well. Leery of turning Dean into some sort of blood doll, he kept real bite play to a minimum and took his donations from Dean either from small cuts or in a vial he could use over a number of days. Once, when he was drinking straight from a bag and Sam walked in, he felt the weight of Sam's gaze and looked back at him. He'd expected disgust, but instead saw something in Sam's eyes that he couldn't explain. It couldn't be lust; that made no sense.

Another few days passed and Dean had another one of his sleep walking episodes. Sam had been horrified watching his brother straddle Spike's hips and wave an imaginary knife around as he explained in graphic detail how he was going to cut and slice and separate skin and flesh and muscle, how he was going to paint the bed in blood.

Spike had calmly told Sam to lie to Dean, to tell Dean that Dean was hurting Sam, that he needed to protect Sam. It hadn't taken long for Sam to convince Dean that was what was happening, and then Dean had curled up next to Spike again as if nothing had happened.

The next day, Spike and Sam had coffee while waiting for Dean to get back from an errand. When they'd talked about what Spike had called Dean's 'bloodlust,' he got a strange vibe from Sam. Suddenly he seemed on edge. Maybe it wasn't so strange; this was, after all, his brother who was a little out of control in sleep.

* * *

Dean ended the call and looked at Sam. "That was Bobby. He wants us to come see him. I asked if he had anything new for us about the apocalypse and he made a crack about us being too busy to 'come see an old man.' Besides I kinda would like to get the low down on how the vampire nest thing went a few weeks back. We got anything pressing on the hunting front?"

"Nope, all's quiet,"Sam answered. "You thinking on stopping by?"

There was a short silence, one that Spike noticed as he was smoking in the doorway. He understood it well. Hunters and vampires didn't mix. "Go. I can meet up with you after, or if you're staying long, maybe we can have a quick and dirty meet up while Sam keeps him busy," he suggested, trying to sound casual as he blew out a puff of smoke.

"No," Dean said firmly. "We just gotta figure out when to tell him. He's gonna be freaked twice over. One, I'm with a guy, two, the guy's a vampire." Dean looked over at Sam. "How fast do you think he'll figure it out? I mean, you don't think Bobby will be able to tell right off do you? We'll have time to explain, you think? Before Bobby gets all issued with Spike being a vampire?"

"The moment he hears you're with him, he'll give Spike holy water," Sam ventured. "I don't know, maybe..." his gaze went to Spike.

"S'alright, I've been there before with the Slayer. Hunters and vampires don't mix and your friends won't understand. Do what you need, yeah?" Spike stepped outside and leaned against the wall, taking another puff. For a long time, he'd let Buffy sweep him under the rug. He would do the same for the hunter. This man, Bobby, he was important to Dean, that much Spike knew.

Sam let out a breath and looked at Dean. "It's your call, man. I dunno, maybe it's better. At least to break it to him first."

"I'm not ashamed of Spike or of being with him. He's a hunter too, goddammit. He's faced apocalypses before, and he's got a hundred and fifty years experience, even if most of it was on the wrong side of the coin. He's with us now. Worked with a Slayer, even. That's gotta count for something. Hell, gotta count for a lot. He knows shit about all sorts of demons I've never even heard of. He can go places hunters can't go, like demon bars, maybe get scoops we can't." Dean exhaled. "Okay, let's head to Bobby's. I think...I think maybe we better not give him a heads up about Spike until we get there. He'll look into Spike's history like you did and come to all the wrong conclusions. I'll call him tomorrow and let him know we're headed there and we got a new member on the team, and tell him...tell him it's a guy and...okay it's gonna be weird telling Bobby I'm in love with Spike. We'll just tell him we got a new guy hanging with us and we'll explain everything when we get there." He looked at Sam, still a little unsure. "What do you think?"

"I think Bobby will want to know if she's hot and where you met her," Sam grinned. "And I'm gonna have the time of my life watching you explain it to him. And that's all before we get to the vampire part." Sam drummed his fingers lightly on the table. "Look, it's never going to be easy, not with us being hunters, but it's just the way it is. Hell, they have other reasons they hate us anyway," he added. Ever since they'd opened the hell gate, they weren't real popular with the hunting community. And then hunters had found out about him being groomed by yellow eyes and now many of them thought of him as the Anti-Christ.

Dean glared at him. "Yeah, I'm sure you are. But I'll have Spike there to help me. He's good at saying things. Must be the poet in him. Okay," Dean took a deep breath. "We'll figure it out as we go, but I'm not letting Spike just," Dean waved his hand, "think I'm ashamed of him or being with him. And like you, Bobby will learn to deal. Hell, if Spike can win you over, Bobby should be...okay, just as hard. Still, Spike'll do it. Like you said, it's just the way it is and me being with Spike is part of that now," Dean said firmly.

"It's not fun thinking you might be the one to play black sheep instead of favorite son for once, is it?" Sam got up and walked to Dean and slapped him on the shoulder. "Bobby's bark is worse than his bite. It'll be fine, especially if Spike's as good at making pancakes as he keeps claiming." He rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go get some stuff for the icechest." He gave a silent nod toward the door, then grabbed his keys and wallet and walked out, stopping only to find out if Spike needed anything.

Dean knew Sam was right. It would be okay, but yeah it was weird feeling a little out of his depth. But hell, he'd felt out of his depth ever since he found out an angel yanked him out of Hell. It was going to be uncomfortable telling Bobby about Spike and he was afraid of what Bobby might say and that he might upset Spike. Okay, he was nervous as hell about it, but he could worry about that tomorrow. Right now Sam was gone, and indicated he'd be gone for a bit. With that in mind, Dean stripped out of his shirts and pulled off his boots.

He spoke in a normal tone. "If you don't get your butt in here, I'm going to have to jack myself off. I'd much rather have you do it."

Spike tossed his cigarette out into the gutter and walked inside, eyes fixed on Dean as he closed the door behind him. Peeling his leather duster off and tossing it over the back of a chair, he crossed in front of Dean and unbuckled his belt, tugging on it with enough force to make the hunter take an involuntary step. He unzipped him, then leaned in to slant his mouth over Dean's as he pushed his pants and shorts down his hips.

He didn't linger, he just pushed Dean down to make him sit on the edge of the bed, then dropped down to the ground between Dean's legs. Closing his hand around Dean's dick, he started to squeeze and stroke slowly, an electric jolt traveling up from his hand when Dean started to get hard.

Dean made a sound of complaint when Spike broke off the kiss but when Spike's hand wrapped around his dick, he gave a soft moan. Shit, that felt good. Spike's touch sent shivers of pleasure through him, and he wasn't sure it would have mattered where Spike touched him. Where his hand was right now was good though, damned good. Dean had jacked himself off plenty of times, been jacked off by a girl plenty of times too, but Spike's touch was different. It was perfect. Simply perfect. "God I love how you do that," Dean murmured. "You put a fire inside me with just your touch."

"You are my fire," Spike simply answered, stroking a little faster and taking in Dean's every reaction. He could hear his heart rate kick up a notch and his breaths grow harsher. Giving one of his closed mouth smiles, Spike leaned in and kissed Dean's stomach, sucking his skin into his mouth and giving him a nip. Dean's shudder echoed through his own body, sending a delicious ache straight to his cock.

Like Spike's touch, Spike always seemed to know what to say to Dean to make it better. He loved that Spike loved him so much. It was so odd to have someone trying to take care of him. He had always looked after his dad, after Sam, after everyone but himself. He looked to strangers to give him pleasure, strangers who he wouldn't have to find himself taking care of. But he didn't have to take care of Spike. It was shared, looking out for each other, and he had seen Spike looking out for Sam too. He wasn't alone in that task any more either.

He stroked Spike's hair, looking down at him. "Love you. You're perfect, you know that?" Dean said, then gave a sudden thrust when Spike gave a little extra twist of the wrist. Anything else Dean thought about saying was lost in the groan of pleasure.

Perfect. Spike lifted his face up. "Almost," he agreed. It had been a long, long time since he'd last wished he was human. Dean made him want it for many reasons. To be accepted and not to have to be explained away, that was one of them. But another was he didn't want to watch his lover grow old and die on him. It was inevitable, in every vampire-human relationship he'd seen, either the human couldn't accept that the their perfectly preserved vampire love could want to be with them after they aged, or the vampire moved on. It was why the best solution was usually to turn your lover, but Dean... Spike knew he'd never go for it.

Dean began to thrust into Spike's stroking hand. "Mmm, don't see, uhn, where, oh God, where you're not perfect," Dean panted as he put his hands on Spike's shoulders and began to thrust harder.

"Touch my heart, that's where." Spike closed his eyes and moved his other hand between Dean's legs to squeeze his balls, playing with them and hissing slightly when Dean's skin pulled tighter across them. The sound of Dean's breaths, his heart beats, the rush of his blood, it was all like a song to Spike. A song he'd committed to memory and would never forget.

"I did," Dean said, knowing exactly what Spike meant, that his heart didn't beat, that he wasn't human. "If you...weren't wouldn't...have touched...mine," Dean said between needy thrusts of pleasure. If Spike hadn't been a vampire, Dean would have died in that nest. Or he'd have practically killed Spike with the way he cut him that night at the motel. Spike understood him in a way that no one else could, not even Sam. It gave them a bond. Dean didn't have to push him away to protect him. Spike could protect himself. Dean didn't have to worry about him and watch out for him. Spike loved him, loved his imperfect and worthless soul, made him feel special and even worthy, because Spike was too beautiful inside and out to give himself over to something worthless. "Mine can beat...for both...of us," he told Spike.

"And now you're a poet," Spike whispered, soaking up Dean's words, wanting, needing to believe them at soul-level.

Dean's thrusting was growing harder and faster and he knew he was getting close. "Take mouth," Dean begged, wanting to feel that tongue and mouth on his rock hard cock, wanting to come down his lover's throat.

Opening his eyes, Spike smirked. "Thought it was a wanking you wanted."

He didn't give Dean time to answer and didn't torture him by making him wait. Grabbing the hunter's thighs, he raised them up, hooking Dean's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, running his mouth over Dean's rock hard cock. Grasping it again with one hand, he licked the hunter's balls a few times, pulsing his tongue in that sensitive area between his sack and cock, then guided his crown straight into his mouth.

Knowing Dean was close, he pressed his thumb into the base of his cock to delay his release while he made love to every inch of his satin covered steel length. He sucked Dean's tip hard and fast, then concentrated his tongue on his slit, tongue fucking it. When his lover bucked, he opened his mouth wide and went down on him, taking every inch of Dean. Moving up and down, matching Dean's increasingly desperate thrusts, Spike released the pressure point and used his thumb to stroke his lover's balls, moaning as he felt the skin stretch taut over them.

Dean didn't care who heard him as his groans filled the room. Spike never ceased to amaze him when it came to a blow job. When he felt Spike press and prevent him from coming though, he thought he was going to die. He was thrashing under his lover's expert attention, begging for Spike to let him come. No matter how fast or how hard, he couldn't release. When that pressure finally eased on his cock, he went at it full bore, thrusting fast and hard into his lover's throat, his cries growing in volume as he got closer and closer.

The wave hit him all at once, an explosive release into Spike's mouth and throat as he cried out his lover's name. The orgasm shook him again and again until he finally sank back onto the bed, feeling the cool sheen of sweat on his body. Every time Spike sucked a bit on his cock, Dean gave a soft groan and small thrust. "Yer killin' me," he gasped.

Only after he'd licked and sucked Dean dry did Spike let his cock to slip out of his mouth. Dean's legs dropped off his shoulders, allowing Spike to lean more completely over Dean and kiss him. It was a slow burning kiss, the sort Spike had learned Dean loved, most likely because lately they'd had to have rushed sex and Dean liked to be contrary. He moved his hands over Dean's body slowly, lovingly, worshiping every plane and angle. When he broke their kiss, his eyes glowed with a different heat. "I'm hungry."

"You are, are you?" Dean said, his eyes filled with after sex haze and euphoria. He saw the look in Spike's intense blue eyes. Research had told them Dean couldn't give more than a pint or so every fifty days because it could take that long for red blood cells to replenish themselves. Dean was making sure to take vitimins and plenty of iron, so they figured they could push it a bit. Besides, it wasn't like Spike was going to drink that much from him in one shot, not since he had his bloodlust well under control.

"And what are you hungry for, vampire?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell me what you want," he said as he began caressing Spike's body and teasingly tilting his head a little to expose his throat, only to shift and expose a different part of his throat.

"Oh God..." Spike groaned and licked Dean's throat. "You, want you. But we'll save this," he dragged his finger over the artery in Dean's throat, "for when we have time. Get dressed. I'll feed from your wrist," he said thickly, already imagining Dean's blood pulsing in his mouth.

"Damn," Dean muttered, but knew Spike was probably right. He really didn't want Sam walking in on them again with them both naked and Spike's fangs buried in his throat and his cock up Dean's ass. Dean pulled on his clothes and even his shoes since they would be leaving soon, then sat down on the bed and scooted back. He motioned Spike to sit in front of him. Sliding up close against the vampire's back, he began sucking on Spike's neck and running his hands under Spike's shirt. He finally pulled his left hand out and offered his wrist up to Spike.

Spike gave a soft moan at the sensations running through him from the ways Dean touched him. "You're the one whose killing me, hunter," he said, curling Dean's arm around his face and pressing his mouth against his inner forearm. He rubbed his mouth back and forth, teasing himself with listening to the sound of Dean's rushing blood and breathing in his scent. He raked his teeth down to the spot a few inches above Dean's wrist and bit down with no warning, cleanly breaking Dean's skin with his sharp fangs. He gripped Dean's wrist and forearm, and closing his eyes, starting to drink.

Hot, spicy blood spurted into Spike's mouth, and not just any blood, it was Dean's. Groaning, Spike sucked harder, leaning back against Dean's muscular chest, his head resting against Dean's shoulder and letting Dean watch how his blood affected Spike.

Dean drew a sharp breath when Spike's teeth sank into flesh. He loved the tease as much as he loved it when Spike surprised him. He watched Spike's face and could see the pure ecstasy Spike was in as he drank Dean's blood. One look at Spike's groin and Spike was obviously feeling ecstasy in more ways than one, but Dean was used to that now. He reached down and caressed Spike lightly, then pushed the heel of his hand into Spike's groin, giving the vampire the pressure he knew Spike needed. Feeling Spike's teeth in him gave Dean his own thrill and even after the 'wanking' and blowjob, his own cock perked up some. He groaned softly, the sensations filling him like nothing else. Spike had told him of the dangers of becoming addicted to being fed from, so he usually let Spike decide when enough time had passed, even if it killed him sometimes and he wanted to feel the bite of those teeth so badly.

He still had his own desires to mark Spike's flesh, but often the sight of the rune on Spike's shoulder was enough. He had done a little cutting sometimes, when they were both in agreement, though Spike never seemed to mind. They'd used the safeword sometimes, just so Dean could time and again prove to himself he was in control and could stop. He understood though how it felt for Spike when he knew he had to stop drinking. Spike never wanted to, but he would, because he had to.

Dean kissed Spike's temple, pressing himself even closer to the vampire.

The doorknob rattled suddenly and Dean pulled his hand from Spike's groin. He let out with a small sound of complaint when Spike dug his teeth in a little deeper, unhappy to have lost the touch on his cock.

"Sam's here," Dean whispered in Spike's ear as the door swung open. They both knew Sam wasn't crazy about seeing Spike drink from Dean.

Spike's fingers curled more tightly around Dean's arm as he took a little more blood, unable to stop on a dime. The loss of pressure on his cock was bad enough. "Mmm," he forced his eyes open, telling himself he had to release Dean now.

He'd expected disgust on Sam's face, or even to see him storm into the bathroom or turn on the telly. Instead, once again he saw what he could only describe as lust in that boy's eyes.

The shopping bags in Sam's hands dropped to the ground and Sam rushed out of the room.
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