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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 8

Sensing the intensity of Spike's attention, Dean looked up and what he saw on Spike's face sent an icy finger down his spine. Spike was lost to the bloodlust and Dean knew Spike would most likely kill him. His hand dove into the pocket where he kept his flask of holy water. He had dumped the water and filled it with deadman's blood as soon as he had acquired it. Long honed instincts made him react instantly, but he knew trying to dodge or move would only make Spike attack faster and inhibit what Dean had to do and he only had one shot. As he pulled out the flask he spun the lid off with practiced ease, spilling its contents even as he drew it out, spilling the dark crimson onto the knife he held, then flicking some of the remaining liquid up to spray across his throat.

In one fluid motion, Spike was on Dean's bed, straddling the hunter's thighs, seconds away from satisfying his frenzied need for the man's life blood. He slapped his hand over Dean's forehead and shoved him back against the headboard, forcing his head to one side so that Spike had access to the scarlet marked flesh of his throat. The blade in the hunter's hand didn't concern him, he was going to have what he needed and he wasn't about to waste time fighting over something that would deliver little pain.
His fangs exploded into his mouth. He swooped down open-mouthed and ready to satisfy the painful cravings of every screaming cell in his body.

Dammit Spike was fast, was about the only thing Dean had time to think as he found himself pinned to the bed with the vampire's weight on him. The back of his skull struck the headboard painfully as Spike pushed him back and forced him to expose his throat. Spike began to lean in, ready to sink his teeth into Dean's flesh when Dean buried the blood-soaked knife just under Spike's ribs. He knew it would take two or three seconds for the blood to take affect. He gasped as he felt Spike's teeth sink into his flesh.

"Spike, stop!" Dean begged, more afraid Spike would simply rip open his throat and then it wouldn't matter if the poison kicked in or not. Dean would quickly bleed out from his jugular.

There's no stopping this, hunter The predator within Spike silently answered, refusing to be dominated by Spike's soul or feelings on the matter. The vampire had had no warning and the scent and sight of Dean's blood had hit him like a punch to the nose, blinding him for the time it took the predator to assert its supremacy.

The pain lancing his side had him snarling with anger and biting down harder when all of a sudden every muscle in his body refused his command. What the... He tried to bite deeper, to drink the sweet, sweet liquid welling into his mouth, to lift his head, to push up... but his body wasn't his own anymore and he could do none of that. A howl of anger and fear broke from him. "I will make you regret this. I will have you begging for death. Are you listening to me, hunter? You'll die, and I will enjoy it."

Dean pushed Spike off of him, slapping a hand over the initial bite Spike had gotten in. "Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah," he muttered, but the dark empty hole inside him re-opened with a vengeance. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to get Spike through this. Failure. The one thing, the only thing, he seemed to excel at. After washing the bite, he bandaged it, thankful Spike hadn't nailed his jugular. He tended to the cut on his hand that had started this mess, then stood in the bathroom doorway, looking at the immobile Spike spewing curses at him from the bed.

Glumly Dean wondered if ropes would even be able to hold Spike. He walked out to his car and got the rope anyhow. While the man still cursed him, he pulled off Spike's shirt. Purple-black lines spidered out from the knife wound. Reluctantly he poured a little more deadman's blood into the wound. Spike should be weak for a good hour, but he couldn't risk it and the extra measure of poison should keep Spike immobile long enough to get him securely tied up.

Dean examined the bed and worked the ropes under the bedsprings and mattress, padding around it so Spike couldn't saw the ropes against the frame. Once he was satisfied he pulled one of Spike's arms up and stretched it out, securing the rope around Spike's wrist. Rolling Spike onto his side, he put a pillow down and rolled Spike back on top, elevating his head and shoulders a little, then he tied Spike's other arm. Looking at Spike, memories of Hell resurfaced, slapping him in the face. He shoved them back with a growl and tied Spike's legs so he was spread eagle and would have no leverage to try and break free. By the time he was done he was sweating and trembling. So much like Hell, having Spike tied like this, ready for Dean to start to work on him, to carve his flesh and make him scream. Moving up beside the bed he picked up his knife from where it lay on the sheets, still covered in blood.

Looking up at Dean standing over him with the knife in his hand, Spike understood full well that what he saw in the hunter's eyes was bloodlust as pure as his own. Only difference was that the hunter was fighting it. "Got me where you want me now, don't you? All tied and ready to be sliced and diced. You want to put your hands inside me, feel my blood cover them... you were waiting for the chance, weren't you? You set this up, call it whatever you want, but you set this up."

...the man screamed and Dean drew the knife down his sternum, cutting the flesh to the bone. He then carefully ran the knife along each rib, on top of the rib, so he was just cutting skin and not deeply into the man. He began slicing off the long strands of flesh and tossing them to the hellhounds, savoring their growls and snapping jaws as much as he savored the man's screams. Next he carefully cut down the abdomen, pulling the flesh aside to expose the organs. He grabbed the man's liver and cut it out a piece at a time, tossing the brown pieces of meat to the hounds. "You don't really need that, not here," Dean crooned. He reached inside the man and began pulling out his intestines. "It's amazing how much intestine is inside a body," he said as he piled it on the man's chest, his hands slick with blood and it felt so damned good...

Dean dropped the knife on the floor and backed away until he felt his back hit the TV that was still on. Violently he shook his head. "No. No!" he yelled at Spike, trying to deny the desire inside him to run that knife over Spike's flesh and hear him scream.

Spike's gaze followed the knife as it fell out of sight, then lifted to Dean's face now drained of blood. "You want my blood, as much as I want yours. Don't deny it. Cut your arm, feed me, then you can slice me up any way you like. I'll scream for you, I'll make you feel again... it'll be perfect... for both of us, come on, do it... cut us, both of us." The pangs of hunger kept Spike talking, kept him taunting, hoping that words would get him what he needed, when his own body wouldn't move even to allow him to tug against the ropes. "Fair exchange, what else could you ask for?"

To feel again... Dean's breath hitched. How could he even want what Spike offered? How could he crave to hear screams, screams that he caused, screams that weren't his own. Crave to feel slick warm liquid on his hands. Would it make him feel again? Give him joy? Give him pleasure? Make him feel alive? A trade of blood, a fair trade. Spike wanted his blood. He wanted Spike's blood...how could it be wrong?

He felt the hot sting of tears and turned away from Spike. "No," he declared softly. They were both addicts. Plain and simple. Spike needed human blood. Dean needed pain. It made him feel strong and powerful, hungry for the horrid screams he could draw forth from anyone, anything. Those screams echoing in the gaping hole inside him, filling that hole ever so briefly with something.

"Yes. Yes Dean, stop fighting your nature. There's no bloody point to fighting, is there? Where has it gotten you so far?" Each time he urged the hunter to take action, he noticed his body tensing, his shoulders getting tight. Triumph was close, so close, and yet it was snatched from his jaws the instant he saw Dean's shoulder's start to shake. It was like a direct blow to his throat, a sharp pain snapping him out of his blood-lust and making him see things for what they were.

He blinked. "Dean," he whispered, trying in vain to reach out to the man. "Dean, don't mind me, what I said. I didn't mean it, it's this... Dean, please, I won't hurt you anymore, I promise."

Laughing bitterly, Dean turned to face the vampire. "We're both lost. You traded your soul for walking in the sun, for immunity to everything but a blade across your neck. Me, I traded my soul to stop the pain, to get off that rack. There's nothing left inside anymore. Just emptiness." He felt the hot tears roll down his face. "What does it matter any more?" He looked at Spike, his eyes dead and emotionless. "If I cut you loose, will you kill me?"

"With a glance? I don't have that power," he answered, trying to joke, but it fell flat.

Spike stared at Dean. "Listen to me. You traded your soul for your brother, you got that, for Sam. Don't rewrite history. Only a good man, a great man would willingly go to Hell for someone he loves. Think about it, how long it took them to make you hurt anyone. How long do you think most people would say 'no?'" He wished he could dry the hunter's tears, that he could erase their source. "You've got your soul back. You refused what I offered you, Dean. Even knowing I won't die, that it would be voluntary, you refused. Give yourself credit for that. I would have killed you, drained you dry, I couldn't fight it. You, you fought your addiction, and you'll continue to fight it."

Dean stalked up to Spike, pulling a fresh blade out of his pocket and flicked it open, holding it up to his arm. His eyes flashed with fury. "And if I cut myself now, can you still fight it? Will the bloodlust come back? Will you drain me dry? Kill me? End all this...macabre masquerade of humanity?"

Closing his eyes tight, Spike prayed for strength. "I don't know. I don't want it, I don't want the bloodlust Dean," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he opened his eyes again. "I don't like it, it hurts, as much as what you're feeling... what you're fighting hurts. Don't." His gaze went to the blade and Dean's forearm. "You promised to help me. So help me."

Spike's words slashed Dean to the core. He wanted to cut his arm, cut Spike's bonds, and just let Spike take him. He slowly pulled the blade away from his arm. Launching it into the far wall, the blade buried itself deeply in the plaster. He sat down on the bed, looking at Spike.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, his throat closing up as he caressed Spike's cheek. He leaned in and kissed Spike, his hand running down Spike's bare chest. After a moment he broke the kiss and straightened. "So do I leave you tied up or not? Are you hungry enough to try the blood I brought? How can I help you the most?" he asked hoarsely, fighting the desire to just give in to Spike's earlier offer. Better yet, to let Spike simply take him.

If he could have, Spike would have sat up as Dean pulled away, and he'd have pulled him back into his arms. "Stay with me, close to me until this wears off. Kiss me again, so I can feel. Touch me."

Dean stared at Spike, his gaze running down his body, seeing the black lines across Spike's abdomen. He dredged up a smile. "Okay. Hold that thought," Dean said, stroking Spike's cheek one last time. He leaned over and, picking up the blood coated knife, took it into the bathroom and carefully rinsed it clean, then wiped his throat free of any remains of the deadman's blood. Bringing out a bandage, Dean taped it over the deep, still seeping, knife wound he had given Spike.

"My hand's bandaged, but still cut. Don't want to have an accident," Dean explained. Leaning down he kissed Spike slowly, pushing his tongue inside Spike's mouth, gently tangling his tongue with the vampire's. He caressed Spike's chest, running his hand along Spike's arm, then back down his chest before coming up to Spike's throat. He played with the fine hair at the back of Spike's neck as he began to kiss Spike more intensely. He broke off, panting a little. "You have to fight this and win, you hear me?" he whispered to the vampire. "...I need you."

There was no denying that being completely at the mercy of the hunter as he was kissed and touched, and knowing the hunter could snap and give in to the need to torture that had been bred into him in Hell, sent a strange thrill of excitement vibrating through Spike. Danger. Risk. Exactly what made this so fucking erotic. "You too. You fight and win, because I need you, Dean. Need you alive and in this world, do you hear me, Hunter?" The hot breaths fanning his face were stirring his desire. "Say yes, and then give me what I need," he added, his voice raw with desire.

"I...I hear you," Dean said. Dean pulled off his shirts and the new boots he'd gotten at the second hand store. He shifted and slid between the vampire's open legs. Bracing himself on either side, just under Spike's arms, he lowered himself but didn't allow their chests to touch as he began kissing Spike again, their groins pressing together. He ran his tongue over Spike's lips, tracing them, sampling, and giving light nips. Pulling back just a little he looked into those beautiful blue eyes and his breath practically caught in his chest at what he saw. Lust, desire, trust, ...and love. Spike had fought off the bloodlust for him. He had fought off his own addiction to torture. At least for the moment.

Leaning down again he resisted the urge to all but ravage Spike's mouth. He forced himself to go slowly, running his tongue just between the seam of Spike's lips, sucking on his lower lip, then pressing his lips lightly against the vampire's. Flicking his tongue inside Spike's mouth teasingly, he returned to just kissing him, then flicking his tongue in again, longer this time. He lowered himself more, rubbing his groin against Spike's a little before stopping and taking Spike's mouth hard, his tongue diving in, stroking Spike's tongue, investigating every niche of his silken mouth, even running his tongue over where he knew Spike's fangs were retracted, pressing lightly against them. He smile against Spike's lips at the groans he was beginning to hear.

"Like that do you?" Dean murmured softly and teased his tongue all along Spike's gum line, wondering if he wasn't playing with fire and not really giving a damned. He was kissing a vampire who didn't have control of his bloodlust, who just a short time ago had tried to kill him. Finally he began kissing along the vampire's jaw line, licking and sucking, working his way back to his throat. He twirled his tongue dancingly down Spike's neck, then bit sharply into the tender flesh, sucking hard and beginning to slowly rub against Spike again, feeling the blood filling his cock as sure as he felt the response from the man he was making love to.

"Bloody hell, yes," Spike gave a tortured grunt. He burned everywhere Dean touched him, burned and ached for more. There wasn't a thing he could do about it if Dean took to playing with him for too long, or if he went too far and was unable to keep himself in check. No, he trusted him. He'd reach Dean no matter what, same as Dean had a knack for reaching him even at his worst moments. He arched his neck and bit down on his lower lip as Dean sucked hard enough to leave a temporary bruise on his throat.

Dean finally released the flesh he was sucking on. "Probably," he said, kissing his way over to the Adam's apple, "ought to have," he sucked lightly, flicking his tongue over it, "a safe word. Let's make it...'funnel cake.'"

"We need a 'safe word?'" Spike managed to turn his head slightly. "What... what do you have in mind?" He could practically feel the heat blazing in Dean's eyes and wasn't sure he could deny the hunter anything he wanted, anything he needed.

Dean laughed softly before sucking another deep bruise onto the other side of Spike's neck. "Just to make sure I stay in control. If I start doing something I shouldn't...there aren't 'safe words' in Hell. Mostly just screams."

Frowning at that thought, Dean forced himself to focus on Spike. This had to be Spike's pleasure, not his. So long as he remembered he was doing it all to make Spike feel good, maybe he could keep at bay the other darker thoughts that kept trying to worm their way into his brain.

Shifting, he slid further up against Spike's groin and began nibbling his way down Spike's left arm, tracing along his muscles, a tiny voice in the back of his mind reminding him exactly where one could slide a knife to peel back separate muscles. He groaned in frustration. For Spike. For Spike, he reminded himself firmly. Reaching the inside of Spike's elbow he licked and sucked there, one hand shifting to Spike's palm where he began to run a circling finger in the middle of it. After torturing Spike for a few minutes there, he returned to kissing the vampire and slowly lowered himself on top of Spike, chest-to-chest as he slowly ground his groin into his lover's.

Soft sounds of pleasure left Spike's lips and he didn't try to hold any of it back, he wanted Dean to know how much he was enjoying this even when he tensed and uselessly tried to lift himself up to bring them into harder contact with each other. Just the ropes would have been enough to keep him from having his way but the deadman's blood practically paralyzed him, which was ten times worse. "Yes, sodding hell, yes," he whispered between kisses. The press of Dean's erection against his own drew another moan of pleasure from him, affected him so much he managed to take control of the kiss, thrusting his tongue in and out of Dean's mouth until the hunter slowly lifted up and left Spike burning for more. "Too early to say the safe word?" he asked, his gaze locked onto Dean's swollen lips.
Dean kissed the side of Spike's mouth then leaned down to his ear and whispered. "Safe word means I stop." He tickled the vampire's ear with his tongue. "Now if you really want me to stop," Dean's fingers ran over one of Spike's nipples, rubbing it, making it begin to harden, "I will."

Grinning at the spew of curses, Dean returned to kissing the corners of Spike's mouth, first one side, then the other, knowing he was driving the vampire mad. After licking his fingers, he returned them to Spike's nipple and rubbed until it pebbled beneath his touch. Pressing more firmly against Spike's hardening member, Dean groaned, giving small irregular thrusts. "You drive me crazy," Dean murmured.

With a final bruising kiss, he slid down to latch on with his mouth to Spike's as yet untouched nipple. His free hand went to Spike's mouth and he pushed his middle finger inside. "Suck it, it's good practice," he told Spike with a grin then went back to work on Spike's nipple.

The look Spike shot Dean said he didn't need practice, but he was more than happy to suck on any part of Dean Dean cared to offer. Closing his eyes as Dean drove him insane, he pretended he had Dean's cock in his mouth and tried to return the favor. He sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing out as the air was vacuumed from his mouth. Alternately, he licked and pressed his tongue against Dean's finger, curling and twisting it around his thick finger, then pushing his tongue back and forth along its length. Imagining Dean hardening in his mouth, he groaned around his finger and started to suck again, moving his face to the side to allow Dean to slip another finger inside. It barely registered that his range of motion had increased a little.

Dean was ill-prepared for the way Spike's attention on his finger sent heat straight to his cock and let out with a muffled, surprised groan against Spike's chest. Had it been so long that he had forgotten how it felt to have a woman suck his finger like she was sucking his cock? Or was Spike just that much better at it than anyone he had ever had before? He didn't know and didn't care, but took Spike's wordless offer and slipped another finger in, beginning to slowly move his fingers in and out, finger fucking Spike's mouth as if it was his cock Spike was sucking on.

Shifting to Spike's other nipple he laved it with his tongue before lightly taking it between his teeth. He moved his hand down to cup Spike's encased erection as he put sudden suction on the nipple. The sound that spilled out of Spike drove him to begin to squeeze and knead Spike's cock with his hand as he intensified his efforts on Spike's chest, sliding back and forth between the vampire's nipples, nipping and biting and sucking.

A strangled cry broke from Spike as he did his best to arch up, needing more pressure on his cock and completely powerless to do anything about it. The only thing he could do was tease Dean as best as he could so that's what he did, with his mouth and tongue, with the little nips on his fingers, and with the sounds he made. He knew his eyes were glazing over, that he was slipping very quickly into a state of complete need, but that was what Dean did to him.

When Dean bit him again and pulled his fingers out of his mouth, Spike swore. His gaze locked and clashed with Dean's. "I'd do it. Give up my soul to keep you here. You didn't do anything wrong," he said, his throat raw with need and emotion. "Whatever happens, you need to know that." He swallowed hard, afraid he'd spoken out of turn, that he'd ruined the moment. It hadn't been planned, but in that moment, he'd seen the truth.
Dean took his hand away from Spike's groin, but kept pressure on Spike's need with his own cock as he crawled up the vampire's chest to look down into his eyes, his own almost dark with anger. "Don't. Ever. Say. That."

He did what he had been wanting to do and practically attacked Spike's mouth, ravaging it almost brutally as his hands began to roam over Spike. The thought of the vampire giving up his soul for him was almost enough to send Dean over the brink. If he didn't feel like he needed Spike so damned badly in so many ways, he might just have walked out and never looked back. Too many people had died for him already.

Spike took Dean's anger willingly, the hard kiss that crushed his lips, the clinking of their teeth as Dean's mouth moved savagely over his, battling his tongue, determined to win the battle of wills that was only in the hunter's mind. His hands were rough too, rough and desperate, and the way he touched him had Spike moaning, pleading for more whenever he could. He finally was getting some of his movement back and was able to arch up against Dean, making a frustrated sound when Dean evaded him by lifting up higher, too high for him to reach with the ropes holding him. He was being punished for telling Dean how he felt, for being willing to do what Dean had done for his brother, of that there was no doubt.

When Dean tore his mouth away, Spike groaned at the still angry look on his face. "Hunter, if you leave me now..." he warned, his own voice hard and edged with steel. His body was burning, he needed Dean like he'd needed his blood earlier, and he would curse anyone and anything that got between him and his need for this man, even if it was the man himself.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "You'll what?" Dean demanded, sitting back, his eyes raking over the bare-chested man tied down before him. That pale skin, flawless and leanly muscular, he suddenly thirsted to mark it, brand it, show the world Spike was his. He knew magical marks and sigils. He could potentially carve one of them into Spike's chest, speaking the demon tongue he remembered and claim Spike, mark him with a symbol that the vampire's body would not be able to erase. His eyes drifted over to the knife buried in the far wall.

"I'll... I'll kick your arse next time I can," Spike started, but then stilled noticing how Dean was watching him. His brow furrowed as he followed the hunter's gaze to the wall, tensing when he saw the hilt of the dagger. "Dean." His lover's gaze was still transfixed on the knife. "Dean," he said more loudly. "Look at me. Love me. Need you. Fuck... I'm dying for you, can't you see that? Please, please give me what I need. Forget the past, live for right now. You and me. I know you want it, too."

Dean turned cold eyes on Spike. "I'll give you what you need," he said, his voice husky and hungry. He pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the knife, yanking it free. After cleaning it free of plaster dust he ran his thumb lightly along the blade, testing it, but being careful not to cut himself. Setting the knife on the other bed he undid his belt and pulled it out of its loops. He looked at Spike's body and down at the belt, feeling the leather and thinking of what it could do. His eyes shifted back to the knife and it seemed he struggled but finally let the belt fall from his fingers to coil on the floor. Reaching out, he undid Spike's belt, yanking it free, heating up the material as he whipped it out and tossed it over his shoulder without a glance.

Dean's rough motions had Spike so bleedin' hard, his cock was throbbing and leaking. If he hadn't known Dean's history, if he hadn't felt Dean's dagger in his back before, Spike would have thought he was in for a bit of knife play or a bit of roughing up with the belt. It would, it did, excite him and leave him ten times needier than when he'd plead for sex, but a part of him recognized real danger. His eyes followed Dean, tried to meet Dean's eyes to read the other man's, though Dean kept avoiding his gaze.

Dean stared at the definite bulge under Spike's jeans. Doffing his pants and underwear, Dean then turned and picked up the knife.

Heat and fear rushed through Spike's veins as he pressed himself down as far as he could into the mattress and eyed Dean, biting his lower lip. He didn't say a word, but his eyes kept seeking Dean's, willing him to meet his gaze.

Dean's hand shot out and took hold of Spike's waistband, yanking it hard. Turning the knife in his hand, he slid it under the waistband and used the very sharp knife to cut the denim with little effort, all the way down to and through the cuff. He grabbed hold of Spike's briefs and slit the side of them as well. He went around to the other side of Spike and putting his knee on the bed, repeated the deed. After staring down at the knife a moment, he launched it into the far wall with all his strength. Going to the end of the bed he grabbed the denim and yanked, baring Spike's body and revealing Spike's hard and ready cock. Sliding his hands along Spike's legs he crawled onto the bed, looking at Spike's cock already damp with precum. His gaze continued upwards to meet Spike's eyes.

"Tell me what you want," Dean said, his voice raspy and filled with need.

Spike's chest was rising and falling as he took breaths he didn't need for survival but took in a remembered human reaction. His gaze went to the knife that Dean had tossed back into the wall, the blade which almost surprisingly hadn't cut into him. Not yet anyway, since Dean had kept it handy. "I want you, hunter. Any way I can have you, haven't you figured that out yet?" he asked.

"You'd let me do what ever I wanted, wouldn't you?" Dean asked, more to himself than to Spike as his hands trailed up and down Spike's thighs. "Do you know one of the reasons I want you to beat your bloodlust? Not because it means I'd have to stop you if you didn't, because I'm not sure I could anymore, but because when you were fucking me and bit me," his hungry eyes met Spike's, "it was one of the hottest moments of sex I've ever had. I want you to beat it so you can bite me again, so I can feel your teeth scrape over me, so I can feel the thrill of your fangs in my throat again. I wished I could bite you, taste you, the way you were tasting me and give you that same thrill."

Leaning down, Dean ran his tongue up the underside of Spike's cock, taking it in his hand and swirling his tongue around its head. "I want you just as bad, vampire. Just as bad as you want me." After a moment of hesitation he sucked Spike's cock into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of Spike, at the feel of that cock in his mouth. Thoughts of Hell, of his mouth having been fucked by inhuman creatures of Hell, never even brushed his mind. He gripped Spike's hips hard enough to leave bruises as he began to bob his head, sucking and licking that sweet velvet steel.

Spike had barely been holding on, his teeth clenched together and ready to demand whether Dean was trying to trigger his bloodlust, when Dean's admission about his own needs silenced him. He swallowed as white hot heat inched through his veins, and that was before Dean touched him. The way he spoke to him, gave him the facts of his own need almost had Spike coming right there. A sheen of sweat covered his body as he listened to Dean's heartbeats and waited... wanted... waited.

The first touch of Dean's mouth had him hissing out his pleasure and digging his heels into the mattress, raising his body up. The dead man's blood was wearing off and it was about bloody time. "Gah... Dean," he jerked as Dean sucked hard, tightening the wet heat of his mouth around him, sheathing and squeezing Spike's cock. Dean's fingers bit into him, but Spike didn't care, so long as Dean kept sucking and moving his mouth up and down his length, giving him the friction he needed, he had no complaints. "Good. Yeah, sodding hell, that's it," he muttered, moving his head from side to side. He started to move a little more, cursing at the ropes when he couldn't touch the hunter.
"Turn around. Let me taste you, too," he said suddenly. He licked his lips very slowly, very deliberately, wanting to give Dean some incentive.

Dean kept Spike's cock in his mouth but stopped bobbing his head, instead lightly sucking on its tip. He had been as brutal fucking the mouths of damned souls as the demons had been with him. The memory of his fingers in Spike's mouth made him give a soft groan, convincing him it was worth the risk. He crawled up Spike's body, careful not to touch Spike's hard dick and turned around. Looking down between his legs he slowly lowered his cock into the vampire's open mouth.

"No teeth," Dean told Spike firmly, though his lips twitched with a smile, at least until Spike closed his mouth around his cock. Throwing his head back Dean groaned loudly, hungrily returning his focus to the glistening wet member in front of him. He leaned in and swallowed Spike all the way down. It didn't occur to him that on Earth he might have a gag reflex. After a moment of almost choking, of panic tensing him, he swallowed around Spike's cock, backing off just a little, and reminded himself he had control.

Spike smiled around Dean's cock, sucking lightly on it. It had been a brilliant move, he thought. Now he not only got to touch Dean a little, but it also gave him something to concentrate on, something other than how much he needed release. Increasing the vacuum in his mouth, he felt Dean's hard flesh swell against his cheeks and heard the sound the hunter made. Just the thought of the hunter's pleasure made Spike's cock twitch. Closing his eyes, he started to suck, pushing his head up and down, glad he could move that far. He was tireless, sucking and pressing his tongue harder against Dean's cock, giving him a tighter fit as he moved up and down. Because he was wishing he could push Dean's face down and fuck his mouth harder, he knew Dean had to be feeling the same, knew it and encouraged it, satisfied only when he felt Dean buck and sink down a little lower, shoving his cock down into Spike's throat.

Dean had given more blow jobs in Hell than he could count and had learned all the ways to pleasure his torturers, especially if it held off the torture for a short time. He denied the memories associated with how he learned, and just focused on using all his skills on Spike's thick cock. Even with all he had learned, sucking, wrapping his tongue around and around the cock, tightening his lips, he wasn't sure he held a candle to Spike's talented mouth. The way Spike worked him had him sweating and groaning, beginning to fuck into that sweet mouth and made him work even harder on Spike. He began to turn his groans into a vibrating hum and felt Spike thrust deeper into his mouth. He jerked back a little, startled that Spike could move already. He would have murmured an apology but instead returned to working Spike harder, ready for the next time he elicited such a thrust from Spike. He couldn't take the vampire's cock quite as deeply as he wanted, but he knew that was purely his fear and he would just have work on getting over it. Maybe with lots and lots of future practice, he thought with a smirk to himself as he sucked extra long and hard, humming all the while.

It was agony and pleasure, and agony again. It came in waves and had Spike fighting harder and harder against the paralysis and winning. He wanted to pull his knees up off the bed, he wanted to lift up into Dean's mouth, he wanted so badly to roll them over and fuck into Dean's hot wet mouth, even as he was sucked harder than he'd ever been sucked. If his mouth weren't busy, he'd have been shouting and swearing, demanding. It went on and on, with him concentrating on his own pleasure, and when that became too much, on Dean's... turning up the heat and using his tongue and the things he'd learned in a century, until the sounds and reactions he drew from the hunter got to him, and he went back to thinking about how Dean was making him feel. It went on and on, for longer than he thought possible.

He used his tongue to push at Dean's cock as he turned his face to the side, forcing it out of his mouth. He wasn't surprised that Dean instantly repositioned himself, pressing his wet cock against Spike's mouth. Spike licked the crown of Dean's cock, spearing his tongue and sliding it back and forth over its slit, knowing how sensitive he'd be to any pressure there right now. After playing with him like that, he managed to lick up the underside of Dean's cock and mouth open, sucked his balls inside his mouth, moving his head from side to side.
Dean had never had anyone work him like Spike was working him and Spike couldn't even touch him. He would have felt like putty in the vampire's hands if he weren't concentrating on trying to give Spike the best damned blowjob this side of Hell. His first blowjob outside of Hell, for that matter. When he felt his cock slip from Spike's mouth and tried to push back in, he cursed in frustration, even if only in his mind since his mouth was full of Spike. When Spike began sucking on his balls, Dean's arms nearly gave out and Spike's cock slipped from his mouth as he shuddered with pleasure. He returned the favor, nestling his nose down in the soft curls and gently licking and sucking at Spike's balls. Lowering himself he wrapped his arms around and under Spike's thighs. One hand dove between the cleft of Spike cheeks and probed for that puckered flesh. Upon finding it, he circled his finger around and around it, occasionally just barely breaching the opening, then took Spike's cock back in his mouth.

Spike's eyes rolled back as a muffled groan left him. He clenched his ass cheeks, gripping Dean's finger and silently signaling his enjoyment. Fuck, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. Sucking one last time, he pulled his mouth off Dean's sac. "Need... need to come, Dean, now. Bloody fucking now. Give me your cock," he demanded, lifting his chin up and opening his mouth.

The instant Dean lowered himself, Spike took the hunter's cock, every inch of it until he bottomed out at his throat. Humming around his shaft, he started to single mindedly work his cock, determined to bring Dean off now, silently urging Dean to give him the same. He was relentless and wasn't satisfied until Dean started to fuck his mouth. He started humming louder, sucking, opening his mouth as Dean pushed himself inside, loving how erratic Dean's thrusts were now. Come on... come for me. Come.

Being sheathed in Spike's mouth again had Dean practically in throes of ecstasy. Although Dean was accustomed to being in any sort of pain and to still be able to finish off a blow job, this was definitely screwing with his concentration. Pulling off Spike's cock only long enough to wet his finger, he took Spike's cock back in his mouth.

Thrusting into Spike's silken heat, feeling the vibrations that went straight through his core had him moaning around Spike's cock as he began to bob his head faster and faster. He took Spike's thick flesh deeper into his throat every time he thrust into Spike. He was losing his rhythm as his body began to shake with need, the pressure inside him lighting his blood with sheer fire. He was close, so close, and Spike's merciless mouth dragged him toward that teetering edge. With the last bit of brain synapses left, he thrust his finger inside Spike's hole, going right for his sweet spot as he took Spike as deeply as he could and sucked hard. The reaction was exactly what he hoped for and as he felt Spike's cum shoot down his throat, his own body reacted instantly. His balls drawing up painfully hard and he felt his own hot release as his whole body spasmed. He gave a muffled cry of pure pleasure as he buried his spewing cock deep into Spike's mouth.

Yes, bloody fucking hell, yes. Fuuuck... Spike writhed and bucked, the ropes cutting his body and burning into his flesh at his involuntary and uncontrollable reactions to coming hard, all the feelings in him exploding into a thousand points of intense sensations. Each time Dean swallowed around his cock, each time he sucked and milked him, blinding heat raged through Spike. He might be over a century old, but he'd just been shown he hadn't done and felt everything, that this hunter, this human touched and affected him in ways he hadn't thought possible. He was well on his way to losing his heart, or maybe he already had.

That very non-beating heart alerted him to the danger. He quickly pushed Dean's cock out and pressed his closed lips against it just as his fangs elongated. "If you were trying to distract me from bloodlust... you get an A plus," he said, trying to regain control over his body. "Don's stop," he added, brushing his fingers across what he thought was Dean's calf, and moaning as Dean gently sucked him again.

Letting Spike's cock fall from his mouth as he pulled his fingers out of Spike's hole, he licked and nuzzled around Spike's groin. "Don't stop, huh?" he panted. "Then how come my cock isn't in your mouth anymore? Making me do all the work now, is that how it's going to be?"

Dean slowly crawled off Spike and turned around. He kissed his way up Spike's chest until he reached Spike's lips.

"Mmm," Spike kept his mouth sealed and shook his head, lifting his chin and only then opening a little to show Dean his razor sharp teeth. "Just being careful, yeah? Wouldn't want to cut off my nose to spite my face... I like your bits, I like them just as they are," he met Dean's gaze. "It's alright, it's not bloodlust."

"I can tell by the look in your eyes it's not. Is it common for a vamp's teeth to come out at the same time you 'come?'" Dean asked, his gaze transfixed on those sharp teeth, trying to keep from groaning at seeing them and remembering how it felt when Spike had bit him.

"Involuntarily?" Spike waited a moment, concentrated and felt his teeth shift back into place. "No. But it can happen in cases of over-stimulation or mind blowing sex. You look disappointed," he said, noting the way Dean was looking at his mouth. He'd been expecting a look of horror seeing as he'd had Dean's cock in his mouth only a few moments ago.

"I was going to say you don't get to give me blow jobs anymore, though maybe we shouldn't be sixty-nining in the future if this is what it does to you. And thanks for...uhm, leaving my 'bits' intact. I don't think it would all magically grow back like it did in Hell." Dean rubbed his index finger across Spike's soft lips. "...I like seeing them. Screwed up, huh? Just on you, though. I know what you can do with them, how you can make me feel with them." He shook his head. "I can remember seeing them in Lenore's mouth and her hissing, wanting my brother's blood, but forcing the bloodlust back." Dean pursed his own lips. "Maybe they would have turned me on then, too, if the hate my dad had bred into me for the supernatural hadn't been so thorough back then."

"This might not be exactly the right time to ponder who else could turn you on," Spike said tightly, not at all pleased Dean could think about someone else now of all times. His own mind was focused only on Dean. His scent, his taste, the need to run his hands over the hunter's damp skin, to claim him, every inch of him.

"Jealous?" Dean asked a little smugly. "Good."

Dean spread himself like a blanket over Spike and shifted so his mouth was out at Spike's right hand. He studied his palm a minute, then slowly licked up it until he reached the end of Spike's fingers and sucked the middle one lightly into his mouth. He slid his mouth over to the next and the next, then working his way back to Spike's index finger which he sucked down and tongued, playing with it like it was Spike's cock. Before Spike could do much more than groan, he moved his lips to the center of the palm and alternately sucked on it and ran his tongue around that sensitive section of skin. Running his fingers lightly down the vampire's forearm, his mouth and tongue followed, first sucking on skin just past the ropes then he nibbled, licked and sucked his way slowly up Spike's arm, to his neck, and finally reached his mouth.

"Determined to make me want you again, aren't you?" Spike whispered against Dean's lips. "I've got news for you, hunter. I will always want you. Anytime, anyplace. After we've made love a hundred times over, it's that easy, yeah?" He kissed Dean's bottom lip, nipping it with his own. "Simple." His prize was a smile, and then Dean brought his mouth down over Spike's and they were kissing again. There was nothing rushed or hurried about it this time as each of them gave and took, moaning softly against each other's lips.

When Dean broke the kiss and would have rolled off him, Spike spoke. "Stay, just a while. I like how you feel on me, light like a feather. Must be all those salads, eh?" He smiled. "Come on, no hitting the vampire. I'm all tied up and it wouldn't be fair, would it?"

Dean glared at Spike. "I am not a rabbit. That's my brother." Dean had planned to roll off Spike and untie him, but Spike seemed to want to stay tied up and there was no doubt that it turned Dean on, even if it did scare him a little. He resituated himself, rolling off just enough that he was half-on, half-off Spike, nestling up close to the vampire. He would vehemently deny he was doing the after sex snuggling thing. More like the after sex sprawl. "And what makes you think I'm going anywhere, Mr. Fangs?"

"You left at about this time last night, Mr. Gloryhole-for-a-mouth, Winchester. That's what. And I don't see you as someone who would want to play babysitter all night. Can't expect you to," he added, though he knew he'd beg and plead for Dean to stay with him if that's what it took. Or lure him into another round of sex.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I went to get some alone time. I'm not exactly a daily deep thinker though. I haven't eaten dinner yet, but since I had that charcoal, I found a little grill at the thrift store. Thought I'd set it up out there," he jerked his head toward the small patio, "and cook up my dinner. Be a damned crime to let that bass go to waste. Picked up some more beer while I was out, too. As for babysitting you all night, I don't plan on sleeping in the car." He ran his hand over Spike's chest with a sigh. "But I'm guessing it would probably be smart if we slept in separate beds tonight. With you tied up...I'm afraid what I might do," Dean admitted.

"No."

The single word, spoken with conviction, cracked like a whip.

Spike brushed his mouth against Dean's temple and hair. "I'm not afraid. You'll be too busy 'taking care of me' to want anything else. And maybe, just maybe you'll find you don't need anything else." He was quiet for a moment. "I saw how you looked at the dagger. You fought it. You won, Dean. You'll keep winning."

"The belt wasn't any safer," Dean murmured. "I'm afraid what I'll do when I'm half asleep. Not when I'm awake. ...I almost marked you. I remember things from Hell. I know things, symbols, that could scar your skin, that not even your vampiric healing could erase, I'm pretty certain. When you were in bloodlust, you were right. I wanted to feed you, I wanted to trade blood for blood. And then when I took off my belt? That was hard to drop instead of snapping it across your chest." Dean twisted his head so he could look into Spike's face. "What about you? Do you think you're going to be able to...I mean I can't keep you tied up forever."

"To control my bloodlust? Maybe. If you don't bleed all over me." The thought had Spike groaning and mentally kicking himself. "That was bloody stupid," he admitted. "I've kept it in check for a few hours but..." He had at the beach too, after he'd turned on Dean and then had settled down, he'd been in control for many hours until Dean cut himself. "I don't trust myself, I'm afraid what I might do."
A muscle twitched in Spike's jaw. "We're a pair, aren't we? Afraid to sleep, afraid to..." A steely look entered his piercing blue eyes. "Right, you're going to have your dinner. I'm going to have some blood." A shiver of revulsion ran through him as he thought of cow and pig blood sliding down his throat in place of fresh human blood from the most intoxicating human he'd ever met and who he was sure would voluntarily part with some of his blood.

He nodded, convincing himself. "And then you're going to mark me, the way you want. But you're going to stop, Dean, I say the safe word, and you stop. And you prove to yourself you can, and then you sleep with me, and whatever it takes, I'll fight my own demons and not take any blood from you, even if you're this close and vulnerable in sleep."

"I don't know that I can stop if I start to mark you," Dean said. "I guess if I have something specific, a beginning and end point, then maybe...maybe I can." Dean kissed Spike as he slowly got his knees under him. He straightened up and crawled off the bed, trailing his hand along Spike's body as he did. He stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the vampire's beautiful body. "What if I were to put a few drops of my blood in your blood-type of choice. Do you think that would help make it tolerable? Or would that just make it worse for you?"

Spike gave an anguished, "I don't know. You'd have to keep that dead man's blood handy." He pulled against the ropes, and they seemed unbreakable but it didn't keep him from worrying. And wishing... it didn't keep him from wishing he could drink for Dean.

"All right," Dean said, his mind racing with possibilities. "Let's try without first. A sip of each to see if any is more tolerable than another. If everything is undrinkable, then I'll put in a drop or two of my blood in one and try to sweeten the pot for you a little. If that doesn't work, we'll figure something out." Dean knew the option he hadn't brought up was the most dangerous one and he didn't want Spike to latch onto it and not try the other two first. When Spike drank from him the other night, Spike didn't go all bloodlust-crazy. Maybe if he had a cup of blood it would sate his hunger. Maybe some would be enough to get Spike through it when it hit. "Let me go heat them up a little in the microwave, unless you think cold is better?"

"Warm, yeah. And a beer... chaser." His eyes followed Dean as he walked from the bed. "Also... might help if you keep the clothes off."

"Yeah, but it'll draw admirers if I'm standing around in the lobby naked. I'd have to fight them off and then your blood would get cold again," Dean tossed back at him without missing a beat. Dean slid into his jeans commando and tossed on a t-shirt. He pulled out the ice chest with the blood and bent over, waggling his ass just a little at Spike as he loaded up the cups in a carrying box. He made sure he had his key to get back in, then stopped and grabbed a dagger with a sheath and put some deadman's blood on the blade. "Just in case I come back and you've gotten frisky," Dean told him.

"You could make a bump on a log frisky, I'm blaming you." It was too bloody bad he was distracted by watching Dean's jean clad ass as the hunter left the room because it was too late when he was shouting for him to come back and turn the damned telly on. Now he was tied up, naked, alone and had no one to blame but himself.

Somehow, Spike found himself staring at the hilt of the blade sticking out of the wall.
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