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Running On Empty

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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)CasFR1819157,38473014,19427 Jan 1127 Oct 12Yes

Chapter 18

Spike tipped his head back and watched Dean from under his lashes, enjoying the thrills running through his body each time Dean touched him. Closing his arm around Dean, he lifted him up and brought their mouths together, turning them around and taking a few steps to the bed. Climbing up onto the bed on his knees, he slowly lowered Dean, following him down, hissing softly when his weight settled over his lover. He stroked Dean's cheek as he kissed him slowly senseless, moving over him, sliding their bodies together as if discovering how Dean felt for the first time.

Every taste, every touch was a precious gift now. There was no forever, there was here and now, and Spike would make sure Dean understood how much Spike loved him. He poured his love into his kisses, and into his caresses as he explored Dean's body under his shirt, his fingers splayed wide, squeezing and gripping, his thumb tracing the planes of his lover's muscles. When he broke the kiss and looked down at Dean's glistening lips, a flood of heat swept over him. "I think we were about to start our forever," he said gravely, lifting up and using both hands to slowly push Dean's shirt up.

"You're such a girl," Dean chuckled, but liked the sound of it, liked it a lot. He was still recovering from the deeply romantic kisses Spike had given him and the way Spike touched him practically burned him. It was like Spike had never explored his flesh before, each touch new and exhilarating.

Dean lifted a little to make it easier for Spike to push his shirt up. He really hadn't expected the leisurely way Spike was tasting him and caressing him, especially not after the tree incident, which his head still ached a little from when he banged it thanks to Cas. He ran his own hands over Spike's body but when Spike began pushing his shirt up, he slid his hands under Spike's shirt. Spike's body was so warm to the touch now. He was still amazed that Spike's heart was beating, but he remembered the price Cas had said came with it.

"I'm sorry you're mortal now," he said quietly, looking into those gentle blue eyes. He saw such deep love in them it almost took his breath away. He surely didn't deserve such love and devotion.

"Don't be." Dropping Dean's shirt, he lifted his own arms and let Dean peel it off, before he looked down again. "Couldn't be happier about it." He wasn't going to give his reasons, they were either obvious or not. It didn't matter much. "I'm just happy you're..." He traced the outline of Dean's lips with his finger. "...still mine. After everything... I thought he might take you from me," he whispered, unsure if that fear that Dean would choose someone or something over him would ever loosen its grip.

"Sam, he's the only one that could give you any competition and only because he's my little brother. I would have told him to fuck off about you except..." Dean sighed, "you were the only leverage I had to get him to stop seeing Ruby. I'm sorry for that, too, but I'm not sorry for the outcome. I missed you so damned much, they were just about the longest days of my life. You were practically all I thought about. Sometimes I just opened the phone and set it on the bed, staring at the pictures I took of you. But no one is taking you away from me. Ever. So just get that out of that bleach blond head of yours, you hear me?"

Before Spike could do anything else, Dean caught him in an embrace and rolled them over so he was on top. He slowly traced over Spike's features with his fingers, almost as if he were blind and trying to imagine what his lover looked like.

Spike moved his face, trying to kiss Dean's fingers, smiling against them. "Not that easy," he admitted, running his own hands up and down Dean's smooth bare back, exploring his broad shoulders and moving lower over the curve of his ass. "I'd rather meet the dawn then go through that again." Despite his seriousness, a small laugh bubbled out of him. The dawn couldn't hurt him anymore.

"Meet the dawn?" Dean asked, furrowing his brow. "Ah, the sun. Guess that would be unpleasant. Or used to be." Leaning down, he gently kissed his lover. "Well, make it that easy, because you're my choice, got it, vampire? You're my plan for my destiny too."

Slowly he began kissing his way down Spike's jaw, then licked slowly up his neck before sucking a hickey along the side of it. One hand rubbed Spike's nipple, bringing it nicely firm and he gave it a light twist.

Arching up off the mattress, Spike gave a deep groan. "Right then, I'm never letting you go," he vowed, biting his lower lip as he felt Dean's mouth move to the tattoo he'd carved into his skin. Just like that, heat inched through his veins. "You're making it hard, hunter. Hard for me to keep still," he said thickly, his fingers digging into Dean's arse as he lifted his hips and showed Dean the truth of his statement.

"I damned well better be making it hard," Dean murmured, smiling as he felt Spike's growing erection. "And letting me go isn't an option. I don't give that ring of mine to just anyone, you know."

Using his tongue he traced out the mark he had carved into Spike's shoulder. His mark. Cas would probably be a little pissed to see a demonic rune on Spike, especially if he knew Dean had put it there. He had a sudden desire for Spike to mark him in some way, to give him something that he could always see and look at and know. He knew he was Spike's but that tangible evidence seemed to thrill Spike, and he would like the same.

As Spike lifted up, he ground down against him. "I want you to mark me," he whispered in Spike's ear. "I marked your flesh. I see it and I know you're mine. Always. I want the same. Something permanent, something that's not going to go away." He nipped at Spike's ear then ran his tongue back down his neck. He needed to kiss Spike again, needed to taste him. Crushing their lips together he moaned deep in his throat as he rocked against his lover.

As Dean's velvety tongue invaded his mouth, Spike instinctively sucked on it, then curled his own around Dean's. A deep groan worked its way out of his throat as he lifted his hips, meeting Dean's thrust for thrust. He was so hard, so bloody hard, he could pound nails into that tree he'd had his lover up against. He squeezed Dean's arse, forcing him closer, aching for him so badly, wanting him so badly it took every last bit of his willpower to keep from tearing his lover's clothes off and taking him.

As they kissed and fucked against each other, thoughts of marking Dean, with his teeth and in ways that would leave his permanent mark tortured Spike. And it was all Dean's fault, for putting the thought in his head. Dean's tongue plundered his mouth, the rhythm emulating sex and setting Spike's blood on fire. When he felt Dean start to withdraw, he sucked hard on his tongue, preventing his lover from pulling away for a much needed breath, the moan of pleasure and pain from Dean pushing him that much closer to the edge.

When he broke the kiss, the sound of Dean's desperate gasp for air ratcheted up Spike's lust. He pushed Dean up, and started to undo his jeans, his eyes locked on his lover's face. Seeing hunger and need reflected back at him, Spike groaned and rolled them over, his hands already tugging Dean's jeans down. "Wanted to go slow, wanted to make love to you. Sodding hell, Dean, you make it impossible."

"Fast or slow, we always make love," Dean said, his eyes bright with laughter at Spike's words. Even when they took each other hard and fast, as far as Dean was concerned it was still love and not just sex. That idea seemed almost foreign to him, but not with Spike. Spike pulled feelings from him he thought he would never experience. "Besides, with three days, we'll eventually make it to slow," he said, lifting his hips to help Spike divest him of his pants. He leaned up and wrapped his arms around Spike's neck, pulling him back into a kiss. He just couldn't get enough of kissing Spike right now. "Want you to take me," he panted. "Want you to tie me up, blindfold me, hold me, possess me, take me. In any order you want," he said, crushing his lips against his lover's again. It had seemed like forever and he was as anxious as Spike to consummate their love again.

Spike had his own jeans only half way off when Dean dragged him back down. His words sent images pulsing through his brain, needs that demanded to be satisfied. Shoving his hand under Dean's head, he raised him up slightly for the dirtiest, neediest tongue fucking he could give, rocking urgently against him, moaning as he felt the wet trails Dean's cock was leaving against his stomach. Fucking hell, he wanted the hunter so many ways at once, it was burning him up.

Ripping his mouth away, Spike moved back and ripped his pants off, his gaze roving over his lover, lingering on his swollen cock. Dropping down, he sucked Dean's crown into his mouth, squeezing his lips tight around the ridge, loosening and tightening again. His hand closed around Dean's shaft and moved up and down, while he used the other to make sure Dean lay flat on his back. Pulling off, he squeezed his shaft as he flicked his tongue across the slit at the head of Dean's crown, then lowering his head, he licked a wet path up from the hunter's balls, along the underside of his shaft and right back to his head.

Dean groaned as Spike worked his cock, frustrated that he couldn't sit up. He could only lift his head and look at what his lover did, watch as Spike took him in his mouth, played with him. He thrust up a little, his head falling back and his eyes squeezed closed.

Abruptly, Spike pulled away. "On your knees at the headboard. Hands behind your back," he said. "That's how I want you."

The suddenly loss of Spike's mouth on his rock hard cock drew a futile couple thrusts from Dean trying to find that mouth again until Spike's words sank in. He sat up now that Spike had released him and moved to the head of the bed. He put his arms behind him and looked back to see Spike pulling the belt from Dean's jeans. Heat flooded his body and he crossed his wrists, ready for Spike to wrap the leather around them. His whole body was tense with anticipation of finally having his lover in him, of riding the crest of pleasure together.

Spike quickly bound Dean's wrists together up high, in the middle of his back. As he pulled the strap through a loop and tugged, he heard Dean's indrawn breath and had to bite his lip. They were both past the point of debating anything and just needed to fuck. He scrambled off the bed but was back within seconds, looping a scarf over Dean's eyes, and pulling back as he knotted it. Groaning at the sight of his handiwork, he forced Dean's face to the side and kissed him hungrily, his rock hard cock jutting against Dean's ass.

Dean couldn't explain why he liked being at the mercy of the vampire, even knowing he wasn't in any danger. Maybe it was the trust, showing Spike the trust he had in him, the complete and utter faith that Spike would do anything for him. Maybe it harkened back to his time in Hell, a twisted part of his brain finding it needed pleasure to be associated with being bound, to help forget the agony of the rack. Whatever it was, when he felt Spike's cock he moaned into Spike's mouth as the vampire kissed him.

Spike's mind was clouded with lust and need, but he forced himself to go through the motions. Pouring a generous amount of lube on his cock, he poured some more down Dean's ass crack. Looking down and grasping his own cock again, he tugged on it twice, then started to work his tip into Dean's hole, knowing Dean couldn't push back very easily without any support. "Want you so bad, want to be in you, want you screaming my name, hunter," he said thickly, a pained groan leaving him as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle and felt Dean's muscles close around him. "Fuck..."

Dean had to tense his muscles to stay upright as he felt Spike breach him. "Oh, God, Spike," Dean moaned, pushing back as best he could on the vampire's cock. "Feels so good, so right," he murmured, groaning more as he felt Spike slowly pushing inside him. "I'll be screaming your name," he promised. "Or Marshall's," he added.

"Oh you're going to pay for that," Spike threatened, gripping Dean's hip as he pushed in deeper, sliding all the way in and nipping the sensitive flesh of Dean's throat between his teeth once their bodies were slotted together. He held perfectly still, the pressure of Dean's tight muscles around his cock driving him insane with lust, with the need to move, to thrust. "So slick... so tight... God... to think you're mine," he said, closing an arm around Dean's waist and at the feel of Dean's hands now pressed into his own stomach, making a soft sound.

He grinned at Spike's 'threat.' Spike had started the whole inside joke in the first place...well, maybe Dean's jealousy had started it, he thought.

When their bodies were pressed together it was so perfect, like two pieces of a puzzle always meant to be connected that never had been. Spike's teeth at his throat, even though they were of the dull human variety, still made him tilt his head, offering Spike his throat. He hated when Spike's teeth left him.

"I'm yours, vampire. Heart, body, soul," he groaned, unable to see anything but darkness. The hunter mentality made him use all his other senses, making every touch of Spike's that much more sensitive and noticed. Spike's scent of earth and cigarettes, leather and sex, surrounded him. The vampire's warm body pressed against his. The needy sounds whispering from Spike's lips, lips that had been pressed against his and he still tasted Spike's flavor in his mouth. 'Stroke me, fuck me," Dean whispered, almost demanding.

"Yes... yes, I'm going to fuck you, fuck you so hard, Dean," Spike whispered, touching Dean's body, his hands moving possessively over his lover's chest and abs, his hips and thighs, moving slowly, thrusting his hips only a few inches, hardly pulling away from Dean and satisfying neither of them, though his promises grew more filthy. "Been waiting all day to spread you wide, to bend you over and shove my hard cock inside your tight hole. Do you feel me... this," he jerked his hips forward and bit Dean's shoulder, struggling to maintain control. "You're going to feel me for days as I split your hole open with my thick hard cock. When you sit, when you're driving, you're going to feel me, you're going to think of me pounding into your arse again and again, and that will get you wet and hard, just thinking about it." he whispered. "Going to fill you up so full my cum will pour down your legs... going to mark you from this inside, wipe away any other claim because you're mine... going to ..." he pressed his teeth into Dean's skin, "as I come... tell me you want it."

Dean pulled at the restraints, Spike's dirty talk making him moan, making him want to touch Spike the way Spike was touching him. The light in and out movement of Spike's cock was killing him, but Spike had him held and without his hands he had no leverage to push back. All he could do was clench again and again around his lover's cock and the words made his heart thunder in his chest with lust and desire. He gave out a small cry when Spike bit his shoulder. Spike's fangs, dammit he wanted to feel those fangs buried in his flesh.

"I want it," Dean said, his voice strained and husky. "I want it all. You fucking me, me screaming your name, your fangs buried deep in my throat. All of it."

Dean's reaction, the way he tightened his muscles mercilessly around his cock had Spike seeing white lights behind his eyelids. "Yes, yes, yes," he answered Dean, then dragged him down, pulling him onto his lap as he rocked back, still on his knees. "I'll give it to you, give you all of it," he promised, raising up and down, thrusting inside Dean, fucking him hard right from the start. Sometimes he pulled half way out, then slammed back inside, sometimes he merely pulsed, brushing his cock over Dean's prostate. He loved how Dean's muscles, his ass and thighs clenched and flexed. He loved the curses that broke out of him, knew Dean wanted to touch him, but did the opposite of what his lover wanted.

If Dean managed to bring his mouth close, Spike merely licked it, or pushed only the tip of his tongue inside. When Dean pulled back, maybe pissed, Spike leaned in and plundered his mouth, kissing him within an inch of his life. He was doing well, maintaining his control until Dean clenched around him again. "Fuck," he groaned. It was like the brakes were off now, nothing could stop him from taking Dean the way he'd promised. Closing one hand around Dean's cock, he stroked to the same rhythm as he fucked, harder and harder, pistoning into his lover like a train that could not be stopped.

Dean rode Spike's cock, groaning as Spike pounded into him so hard it lifted him up each time. "Yes, fuck yes," he said and he tried to press down against that impaling cock. When Spike took his cock in his hand Dean bucked and moaned. He was leaking cum steadily, his balls tightening, readying themselves to spill their contents violently with just a little more coaxing from Spike. Dean's moans grew louder the closer he got to coming his brains out.

"No. Not yet," Spike demanded, gripping the base of Dean's cock and holding it tight despite his lover's struggles and desperate movements. Just like that, he kept both of them on the razor's edge for far longer than he thought he could. His mind was a haze of lust, his body a thousand pinpricks of aching desire, every nerve ending in his body driving him on, every cell urging him to come. He loosed his grip and started to say Dean's name, over and over as his balls tightened, pressing against his body. He stiffened, white hot heat flooding his body the same instant as he came hard inside Dean. He was still shouting Dean's name, still filling him with his hot come when he felt Dean start to arch and stiffen.

"No." He spoke softly, but pinched the tip of Dean's cock off, making it impossible for the hunter to come, even as Spike moaned out his own release, fucking him slower as his tension eased.

Dean was so damned ready but Spike's hand around his cock had kept him writhing and in desperate need but he knew Spike was in the same condition. It was sweet torture for them both. Finally his cock was freed and he could tell from the change in Spike's voice, to the chanting of his name, to the tension in the vampire's body, that it was time. The heat that suddenly filled him, that sent liquid dripping down his leg as Spike had promised, was all it took, his body was ready when suddenly...Spike told him 'no' and kept him from coming while Spike rode out his own orgasm.

"God dammit, Spike," Dean cried out, thrusting, wanting, trying to get Spike to let him finish. He clenched and wriggled on Spike's cock, pulled at his restraints until his arms ached, tried to get Spike to let him go. "Sonuvabitch," he swore. "Let me come, dammit," Dean cursed.

"It's not how I want you," Spike answered, putting his hand on Dean's cheek to pull his face toward him, stroking his face in the process though he could tell Dean was in no mood to be soothed. "Not yet. Not until I say, yeah?" He brushed his lips against Dean's and could tell from his lover's refusal to instantly open his mouth that there was a good chance Dean would do whatever Dean wanted. "Don't come now, not if you want me to bite you," he said, his voice dropping down an octave as he released Dean's cock and helped him turn around. Leaning in, he slanted his mouth over Dean's and kissed him, more than aware of Dean's arousal pressing against his hip. "Not yet," he reminded, licking along his lover's throat as he untied his wrists.

Dean had spent years on the rack where he had learned not to come or be punished so severely it just wasn't worth the agony of not coming. He forced himself to hold back at Spike's words. This was Spike's game, his rules. That's how it worked between them. If that's what Spike wanted, that's what he would give him, no matter how much it killed him. The threat of refusing to bite Dean clenched the deal and he groaned out a 'yes' as Spike unfastened his wrists. His arms and shoulders ached from his struggles, but it was part of the pleasure/pain he wanted Spike to give him. Spike laid him back on the bed, the blindfold still on. Dean's cock was erect, red and swollen and ready to burst. It took all Dean's control not to reach down and finish himself off.

"How do you want me," Dean rasped, aching with need.

"How..." Spike's voice was a little shaky as he looked down at his needy lover, his cock jutting up and begging to be touched. "I want you the way I will always want you," Spike answered, straddling Dean's thighs and leaning over him, letting his cock graze Dean's as he kissed his lover's face. "Completely."

Licking his hand, he closed his fist around Dean's already wet cock and gently stroked up and down, biting his lip when he saw how his lightest touch had Dean shuddering, the muscles on his abs tensing and releasing. Lifting up once more, he bent over and licked Dean's nipple, then sucked on it hard, distracting him and whispering to keep him distracted as he walked a bit forward on his knees. He rocked back suddenly, guiding Dean's cock to his hole and slowly lowering himself, sucking his breath in, in anticipation of pain.

Every touch his lover gave him was almost torturous, but Spike's answer to his question wasn't what his Hell-trained mind expected. Something inside him seemed to melt away, some last bit of cold fear dissipating and turning to dust. Completely. He felt his eyes sting and knew if not for the blindfold, he might well be shedding tears. The word seemed to reverberate inside him, echo in his mind, and drive electric fire through his soul. Completely.

He arched and moaned as Spike sucked on his nipple, clenching his fists. Spike had been stroking him, practically killing him, and his hand returned to Dean's cock. "Spike!" he shouted as his cock was suddenly sheathed inside his lover. Blinding light seemed to appear behind his eyelids and he arched up with the feel of the unexpected velvet cave he found his cock in, driving his cock further in. He clenched his hands in the sheets as he tossed his head back and forth in pure unadulterated pleasure. "Oh God, fuck, oh God," spewed from Dean and he couldn't help but pull out and shove back in. He felt Spike clench and unclench and that was all it took as he began to pump up into Spike, gasping and panting and cursing and saying his lover's name over and over again. Spike rode him hard, made him chase it and he did until he couldn't hold back even if Alistair were to be standing over him with a blade in hand.

"Spike!" he screamed, arching up into Spike, filling him with everything inside him, pumping his way through the orgasm and he arched and cried his lover's name again, a second jet of cum released into his lover.

Moaning, Spike kept riding Dean, clenching around him, squeezing him as he leaned in and shoved the scarf off Dean's eyes so he could look into their depths. In those unfocused eyes, he saw love and lust and pain and hope. A complicated man. A loyal man. Someone he could trust. Someone he would love with no reservations, not because he was unattainable, not because he was the holy grail or the perfect ideal, but because of his flaws, because of his scars, and because someone had to love the git since he didn't know how to love himself.

"Right here, I'm right here, always right here," he said, rubbing his mouth across Dean's. His heart was banging as hard as Dean's, like he was hearing Dean's in stereo. Smiling, he slowly pulled up, letting Dean slip out of him, then collapsed back down, rolling onto his side. "Good thing it was my name you were shouting, or it might be Marshall I was telling... "I love you."

Dean caressed Spike's cheek. "It'll always be your name I'll be shouting."

* * *

All the way to the tattoo parlor, Spike wore a smirk as Dean complained about the various places his body ached. They'd put the 'do not disturb' sign up and had sex, slept, brought food in and had more sex for three days straight. It was a good thing their time had run out or one of them might have ended up injured, or so Spike said. Surprise morning sex put him into a good mood and he'd even joked that a dick up his arse was much better than a dagger in his back. Once, that would have ruined the mood and sent Dean brooding, but Dean only tossed back that Spike loved it when he used a knife on him and they both knew it. Since Dean hadn't had any bad dreams or sleep walking incidents that he hadn't woken himself up from, he was much more confident that he wouldn't inadvertently hurt his lover and could joke about such things now.

Now Spike was watching Dean get his tattoo and making sure the blindfolded hunter didn't get a sneak peek. The artist had copied the outline of the drawing onto his chest just below the right clavicle near his arm. Spike had the artist move it and adjust its size until he was satisfied, then looked on while the artist began to ink it in black. The artist had to be reassured that Dean was fine with being blindfolded and with whatever Spike picked out.

Dean sat in the chair listening to the hum of the tattoo machine. He could tell that the tattoo was long and narrow, maybe even cross like and found that idea amusing, that a vampire would choose a cross. At the same time, he wasn't certain he wanted a cross on his chest considering he was dealing with angels and the whole God has work for you crap. He said he would trust Spike with whatever symbol he wanted to mark him with and so he would, ignoring Spike's teasing about choosing a 'lovely teddy bear,' or 'cutesy little kitten with hearts around it.' They had only debated briefly as to where to put it. The chest or back was the most logical place as putting it on the arm or leg would increase the chance of it being seen. Identifying marks were bad for hunters. Dean insisted on the chest because he wanted to be able to see it, to look at it every morning and know it meant he was Spike's and Spike was his.

All said and done, the tattoo took about an hour. When it was finally completed, Dean sat up and pulled off the blindfold and looked down. It looked tribal in flavor, sort of like a dagger, sort of like a cross, but could tell it wasn't really either of those. He had to admit, he liked it. A lot. He looked up at Spike curiously and waited for an explanation for the choice. He wanted to know what it meant to Spike and why Spike had chosen it.

If Spike had needed to breathe, he'd have been holding his as he watched Dean's reaction to seeing his mark for the first time. "I thought the heart shaped lips with fangs catching an arrow between them would be too obvious," he said, a little nervous.

Dean smirked and stood up, pulling Spike into his arms. "Ya think? I like it. So why'd you chose it?"

Spike hardly noticed the artist retreating to the back room. "It's an ankh. It stands for many things. Eternity. Sanctuary. Life." He slid his knuckles down along Dean's face. "Protection. Everything I would give you until I'm no more."

"Let's cut out that 'no more' crap. You are going to be around for a long, long time. And not would. Will." He kissed Spike thoroughly. "Okay, I don't just like it, I love it."

The artist returned, but gave both men a look that said he wasn't real thrilled to have some gay lovers in his shop. "You need ointment on it," he told Dean and smeared some antibiotic ointment over it and then bandaged it. He handed him a sheet that gave 'after care' instructions for taking care of it while it healed.

"Thanks," Dean said. He glanced at Spike before putting his arm over his shoulder as he stuffed the sheet in his back pocket. Leading him out of the shop he said, "You know, me and Sam were always being mistaken for being a couple. I gotta admit, it's gonna take some time for me to get used to the 'looks' now that you and I are together. Not that I give a damned what anyone else thinks."

"Good. Maybe we'll be lucky and get more than looks. Wouldn't mind kicking some non-demon arse once in a while." They reached the car and he leaned over its rooftop. "I want to make love to you in front of a mirror." His gaze went to Dean's now covered up chest. "When do you think we'll have the chance?" Tugging the door open, he sat in the passenger seat, trying not to laugh. Now that he'd put the thought into the hunter's head, he was sure Dean would be thinking on it until he made it happen.

Dean stared at Spike a moment, the thought of a mirror above them or surrounding them now firmly stuck in his mind. "You're fucking evil," he growled as he slid behind the steering wheel. "We'll look for a motel where you pay by the hour when we hit Cleveland. We can find one there, I'm sure." He shifted trying to get himself comfortable. Damn he ached. "You know, you could at least have the decency to pretend to be sore," he said as he slid in a tape. Pulling out of the lot, he headed toward Bobby's to pick up Sam.

"I am sore." Spike picked up Dean's hand and put it over his groin. "Very sore. Happy?" Releasing Dean's hand, he looked out the window, biting his lip to prevent a laugh though his shoulders shook a little.

"My ass," Dean grumbled, giving Spike's cock a good squeeze and grope. You know, maybe we'll find a place with mirrors on the way to Bobby's...."

That had Spike's head snapping right around. "You'd best not be joking, Hunter." His lover's smirk was not quite the reassurance he was looking for.

Turning up the music, Dean began singing along with it and stepped on the gas pedal.


THE END

The End

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