It was the second time in two days Dean had woken up with someone else in his bed with their arms around him. Aside from the orgy with the twins that had lasted a couple of days, if something that unheard of had happened any other time he might have checked himself for possession. Today however he just took it in stride. It definitely wasn't the weirdest or most unpleasant thing that had happened to him this week, after all.

At least this time the hard on poking into his hip was expected rather than a surprise. Surprises tended to make him irritable and gave him a headache. He wasn't in the mood for either today, so he was determined not to get all worked up over it. Guys slept, guys woke up with woodies. Plain and simple. Sure, he and Sam had spent the night in the same bed together… naked… but it wasn't like they'd fucked or anything. Even if Sam did want to fuck him… ok… maybe best not to think about that.

Dean sighed softly as he forced his eyes open, wincing sharply at the light coming through the drapes and turning his face away from it with a groan. Christ, couldn't one of them have remembered to close the privacy drapes? Speaking of headaches.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, Dean stretched and craned his neck to get a look at the alarm clock without trying to move too much and disturb the warm weight resting against his side. He couldn't say whether or not it was a consideration that would have crossed his mind before since he didn't normally share his bed to sleep in, but maybe he was just in an unusually charitable mood this morning.

Scratch that, afternoon. Dean's eyes widened a little when he saw that it was after 3pm. Christ, no wonder he was starving, having skipped both breakfast and lunch. He must have been even more exhausted last night than he realized. Either that or the fever was beginning to take a toll on him. Fuck, the infections must be getting worse. The antibiotics weren't working. Though his back didn't really hurt all that badly even though he was laying on it, he couldn't think of another explanation.

Maybe he should take some more antibiotics, a larger dose maybe, he was probably overdue, and water, he was so fucking thirsty. Dean did his best to shift his weight out from under the other man without disturbing him too much. Pushing himself up on wobbly arms he managed to sit up on the edge of the bed. He'd get up, just as soon as the room stopped spinning.

Sam was instantly awake when he felt movement beside him. His subconscious reassured him there was no danger so he didn't immediately draw back ready for a fight. It took a moment for his brain to process the warm comfortable body he held protectively, his very pronounced erection, and the smell of the person that made him even harder. Opening his hazel eyes he saw Dean had just woken and was looking at the clock. Slight tension rippled through Dean and his heat rate increased a little as he groaned trying to avoid the sunshine. Dean's light sensitivity had begun.

Sam wanted to hold on to Dean, didn't want to let him get out of bed, wanted to press his cock closer to Dean and rub it against him. He gave an inner sigh and reminded himself that wasn't going to happen. He was just lucky Dean let him have what he did last night and he knew it. He decided he knew another thing about Dean the Man. Dean was kind.

Once Dean climbed out of bed Sam got a look at the clock himself. He hadn't slept this long in a while, but then again, he hadn't let himself sleep this deeply in a while. He saw Dean's arms shaking and Dean sway as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Sam wanted to pull the bandages off of Dean's back but he knew what he'd see. Dean's wounds would probably be pretty much healed at this point. If he got a little bit of blood into him, they would quickly be completely healed, because that would accelerate the turning. In part he knew Dean was weak because he hadn't eaten. Blood or food, take your pick. Dean needed human food to help him continue to fight the virus, even as unlikely as it was that he would beat it. Sam seemed to recall a restaurant right next door to the motel. He'd get a quick shower, take care of his morning hard on—rapidly he prayed—and go get Dean a big breakfast. After a moment of further consideration he realized Dean hadn’t really been out of the motel room other than being on the road. It was …unlikely…that Dean's vampiric senses had all begun to activate yet so he wouldn't, at least shouldn't, be a danger to the public. If he was, Sam would have the strength and speed to keep Dean under control so it should be okay. Certainly Dean was tired of motel rooms, and it would probably reassure him that Sam didn't think he was turning, even if that was a false reassurance.

"What say we get a shower and go get some breakfast?" Sam suggested, pushing himself up onto an elbow.

Dean felt Sam’s eyes on him even before the other man spoke, well aware of his state of undress, and the matching “problem” that the other man had upon waking. Well aware he was giving the man who admitted to being sexually attracted to him a nice view of his back and ass. But considering everything, the way they’d slept together and thus woken up together, it was a little stupid to be modest about it now.

So he didn’t bother to reach for the sheet to cover his nakedness when he twisted around to look at the other hunter. Sam’s suggestion regarding “breakfast” making him raise an eyebrow and glance at the clock a moment for emphasis before he smirked at the other man in amusement.

“Sure, I’m starving.” He agreed readily enough, then considered the first part of the Sam’s suggestion, the one about the shower. Dean couldn’t help but remember the shower that Sam had helped him with, even considering how out of it and in pain he’d been in, that had led to his first massage from the other man.

His eyes drifted unconsciously down Sam’s body, most of which was exposed to him, though thankfully the other man’s crotch was covered, though the sheet hugged Sam’s hips pretty low. God, he was… Dean cleared his throat and turned away before he could do something stupid like blush and give Sam the wrong idea.

Dean was pretty sure he could manage a shower by himself today though, without Sam’s help.

“You want to go first?” He offered. Dean was determined to make up for being an ass yesterday, getting all pissed off at Sam for no reason. They were both hunters, and Sam had done more than enough to help him. He didn’t want the other man to think he was ungrateful, and besides, there were all too few hunters out there, it was always best to stay on good terms with other hunters. If they couldn’t trust each other, then who could they trust?

Sam tried not to notice Dean was damned near as hard as he was. His cock was so beautiful and plump, it made Sam's mouth water just to think about wrapping his lips around it and giving the man a blow job to beat all blow jobs. Crap, crap, crap, he already was so hard he hurt and such thoughts just weren't helping.

Back to the thought of food. So what if it was a little late for breakfast. Breakfast was really what he wanted. It seemed weird to eat breakfast anytime other than in the evening anyhow after all the years of sleeping during the day. Actually he was getting a little hungry, but regretfully human food wouldn't decrease the slight pangs of hunger he was beginning to feel. He would be okay for a few more days before he really did need to seek out blood and by then, he wouldn't have to worry about Dean. He regretted that thought as soon as he had it.

Sam wasn't surprised Dean ignored his implication that they shower together but he was surprised and pleased that Dean's eyes drifted down his body and lingered on his crotch. Pity he hadn't let the sheet fall just a little further down. He heard the distinct increase is Dean's heart rate and that surprised him, too. For not wanting to sleep with another guy, Dean certainly showed tendencies of interest. Then again, and Sam couldn't help his private grin, maybe Dean was just a little bit of a pervert. Liked to look, just didn't like to follow up. His abrupt averted gaze kind of squashed any tiny flare of hope.

"Sure. I'll go. Give you a chance to get your sea legs back under you." Sam flipped the sheet back, wishing Dean were still looking at him, wishing Dean might like what he saw. He decided to be just a little evil and slid out of bed on the same side as Dean, giving Dean a clear view of his more that solid erection. His duffel was on that side of the bed, after all. He kept his back to Dean as he dug through and pulled out some jeans and a t-shirt. His nicer clothes were still in the suitcase out in the car. Fuck. So was his grooming bag. Well, he'd skip shaving until they got back from breakfast and he could just use hotel soap.

Gripping his clothes he turned back to face Dean, giving Dean a more than clear view of his solid morning wood. He felt himself blush a little. Crap. Now he was doing it. He couldn't believe how Dean had this effect on him.

"I don't want you to…uh, freak or anything…but, uh, if you wanted me to, I could…take care of your…problem." Hastily he added, "But I know you don't swing that way, so I won't be upset if you aren't interested. And I don't want to start another fight. I'm just offering since, you know, you didn't freak waking up with me up against you again and…" Holy fucking crap, Sam felt himself go red as a tomato. He didn't blush like this. He just freaking didn't. He couldn't even look at Dean he was suddenly so embarrassed by it. It was a stupid, stupid offer. He already knew Dean would say 'no.' He just hoped Dean would tell him 'no way in hell' politely. He didn't even realize he had shifted his clothes in front of his own erection.

Dean couldn’t help but stiffen slightly when the other man brushed by him as he got out of the bed… on his side. Dean wanted to frown, knowing Sam had done it on purpose for no other reason to get under his skin, which was still tingling from that barely there touch. Not to mention warming as he got an all too good view of Sam’s ass, Sam’s thighs, Sam’s back, Sam’s everything… including his thick hard cock that Dean had already felt twice now.

Instead of frowning he couldn’t help but smile, feel the slightest bit amused. Even though it wasn’t all that funny. He’d already made it clear to Sam he wasn’t interested, but the other man’s persistence without being completely obvious about it… Dean had to admit it was kind of a turn on. Knowing just how much Sam wanted him that he kept trying… and Sam certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes. Not in the least.

Sam obviously wanted him to watch, and Dean didn’t bother looking away. Getting a clear view of all of the other man’s many attributes as Sam bent over to retrieve his clothes from his bag. Dean might not be into men, but he could certainly appreciate perfection when he saw it.

It definitely wouldn’t be any kind of hardship for him to break his own rule. Though his previous experiences with other men as a teen had been somewhat lacking, at the moment he certainly wasn’t turned off by the idea of giving it one more shot. Sam wanted him, all he had to do was give the other man the OK.

So why was he hesitant to do so? Because Sam was a hunter and not some bar tramp? Because Sam would be hanging around for at least another day to make sure he wasn’t turning, and therefore it wasn’t exactly a one night stand? Because of the possibility that they’d have to work together again in the future, and again, the whole awkwardness factor afterwards? Yeah, all of those were pretty good reasons. All of those were reasons he should just turn his damned hormones off right now. After Sam left he could find some blond bimbo to bang easily enough. Get it out of his system.

But when Sam turned around to face him, making his bold “offer” to take care of his “problem” that made Dean’s eyebrows crawl up into his hairline, all the while Sam turning as red as a tomato with every word he spoke, looking positively endearing, the absurdity of the situation slapped him right in the face and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Even as he snickered and wiped at his eyes, close to tears, Dean tried to apologize knowing that was definitely not the reaction Sam was probably expecting and hoping he hadn’t just pissed him off.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I didn’t mean to… It’s just… oh fuck it…” Dean finally grinned, leaning back on the mattress on his elbows and giving the other man an inviting look, crooking his index finger in a come hither motion for emphasis. What the hell, you only live once, right? And worst case scenario they only had to endure each other’s company for another day before they parted ways.

Dean's laughter made Sam close his eyes and sigh. Yeah. Stupid offer. Still, at least Dean wasn't going all ballistic on him about keeping after him when Dean had made it clear Dean wasn't interested. He was trying not to be annoying about it. Hell, he was trying not to do it at all, but with Dean, he just couldn't stop. Every fiber in him wanted the man so badly…okay, so it wasn't because he was tired. He couldn't blame that now. Maybe he could chalk it all up to temporary insanity. Yeah. Maybe that calf he'd chowed on the other night had mad-cow disease or something. At least this time Dean's denial didn't make him feel like he was going all girlie and ready to cry or something. Those earlier reactions must have been because he was all strung out. Besides, he'd fully expected…okay, he hadn't expected laughter, and that kind of hurt, but if that was as polite as it got, it was better than a couple alternate, far less pleasant refusals he'd received in the past. The laughter he could shrug off. He'd still look, still admire…before he had to kill the vampire Dean would mostly likely become.

Sam looked up at Dean's apology, letting his face go stoic and trying hard to regain some composure. Trying hard to get the flush from his face. Then Dean grinned at him. Those sparkling perfect teeth, those shining green eyes, and a smile that made Sam's heart flutter like a love-struck girl. When Dean leaned back exposing himself, when invitation was written all over his face and body, and the final no denying invitation, Sam's knees almost went weak. Dean was going to let him…oh fuck yes!

Sam knew surprise lit his face, but then he let his own smile shine. He even let his dimples show, dimples that sometimes really embarrassed him. It was tough to be a he-man when you had dimples.

He approached Dean slowly, tossing his neatly folded clothes aside. If Dean was letting him do this, then Sam wasn't pulling any punches. He dropped all pretenses and let his smoldering gaze slowly rake over Dean, taking a moment to appreciate the young man's body, knowing that soon his hands would be on that body. His gaze lingered lustfully on Dean's heavy cock. So big. So thick. So fine… Sam grinned. Hard, but not hard enough. Not nearly hard enough yet. He would show Dean what hard really meant.

Sam sank down to his knees by the bed and slowly spread Dean's legs wider, lightly dragging his fingers down the top of Dean's thighs before drawing his palms teasingly feather-light along the outside of his thighs and up his hips. He leaned down and ran his tongue along the inside of Dean's thigh, from just behind Dean's knee to just shy of Dean's cock. He paused there with his mouth and gently nuzzled and sucked on that tender skin, a small groan escaping him, his one hand on the outside of Dean's thigh, squeezing and kneading as he sucked. His other hand he slid under Dean's ass, rubbing and squeezing and fingering the crack between his cheeks.

After he worked the thigh area hard enough to leave a slight mark there, he pushed that leg a little wider open and flicked his tongue up to the inner crease, just barely brushing the side of Dean's sac. He let his tongue play in there for a handful of seconds, mostly dancing around Dean's balls, but letting his tongue momentarily touch it now and again, letting this breath whisper across it when he did.

He worked his tongue along the border of Deans dark curls, flicking in close to Dean's cock, but never quite touching it as one hand rubbed and kneaded the outside of Dean's hip. His other hand slid along Dean's crack, rubbing a moment at Dean's hole before dragging his hand out and began playing along the inside of Dean's yet untouched inner thigh. A few drops of precome had slipped from Dean's slit onto his belly. Sam lapped at it, being sure not to touch Dean's definitely harder erection, groaning at its exquisite flavor. He grinned up a Dean a moment then went to the thigh his tongue had yet to caress.

The look of surprise that crossed Sam’s face, quickly followed by the quite possibly the most adorable smile that Dean had ever seen in his life made Dean glad that he was sitting down. Or he might have embarrassed himself going all weak kneed and falling on his ass again. He’d already done that twice already, much to his wounded pride, and he certainly wasn’t looking for a repeat performance. He certainly didn’t need Sam possibly describing him that way to other hunters, as the hunter who constantly fell on his ass.

Looking at Sam now, it was hard to imagine this was the same man who’d rescued him from a nest of vampires, Sam Cristo, the hard ass ruthless hunter, as Bobby had described him. The hunter who didn’t like witnesses, but who’d nursed him back to health so carefully. Helped give him a bath, gave him not one but two full body massages to ease his pain, and who was now standing in front of him looking like an excited little boy who’d just been offered a piece of his favorite candy. Turning him on even more…

Yeah, maybe this was all kinds of crazy, weird, wrong but at the moment he didn’t really give a damn. Blame it on stress, blame it on the fever, blame it on the aching erection he’d woken up with (he wouldn’t be the first guy who got himself into trouble thinking with his dick) but right here, right now, he wanted this. He wanted Sam’s eyes on him, his gaze sweeping over him almost like a caress in itself. Looking at him with more longing than he thought anyone else ever had, like the other man meant to devour him whole. He wanted those strong hands that had touched him practically everywhere to now touch him everywhere.

Dean let himself openly admire the other man’s body as Sam stood in front of him, feeling his heart skip a beat when the hunter’s smile turned positively evil before he sunk down to his knees. Those warm calloused hands settling on his thighs and Dean allowed his legs to be pushed apart so Sam could move between them. The sight alone enough to make his cock start to throb a little in real interest before the teasing started. First Sam’s hands and then his mouth. The warm slide of the other man’s tongue up his inner thigh making Dean’s breath hitch. Nuzzling, kissing, sucking, so close to where he wanted it. So damn close.

Fuck.

Dean let his arms give out behind him as he reclined back fully on the bed, unable to stop the little movements of his hips trying to get Sam’s mouth where he wanted it. Soft moans of pleasure escaping his mouth and Dean didn’t even bother trying to contain them. Though he also couldn’t stop himself from tensing slightly when Sam’s hand slid underneath him to cup his ass, the other man’s firm hand squeezing and delving between his cheeks. It didn’t feel bad, per say, now at least. But from experience he knew it would only get worse.

He concentrated on what Sam’s mouth was doing instead, letting it help him relax. Even though it was a little difficult considering the other man was still teasing him. Barely touching him where he really wanted that mouth to be with more than a breath, and Dean couldn’t help a small groan of frustration to escape him. Even as he tensed again when Sam touched his hole, relaxing only when Sam moved his hand way again. He let his own hand come to rest on the back of Sam’s head, his fingers tangling in the soft warm hair and tugging a little impatiently when Sam moved to his other thigh instead of his cock after lapping at the trail of come on his stomach.

“I thought you were supposed to be ‘taking care’ of that, not making it worse?” Dean finally joked, lifting an eyebrow almost in challenge.

The sounds Dean made thrilled him as he tasted that sweet flesh he'd been longing for. He felt Dean's tension when his fingers caressed his hole, felt the tension fill Dean for those few split seconds until Sam distracted his attention away. He'd wait then until he was near to finishing Dean, wait to put his fingers inside Dean and give Dean that final exquisite push. Dean would be too far gone by then to care or notice until Sam hit that sweet spot that would make Dean writhe that extra lit bit, that would make Dean come harder than he ever had, and maybe, just maybe, interest Dean enough to let Sam do what he really truly wanted to do. Fuck him utterly senseless.

"I promised," Sam said and began sucking on the backside of Dean's knee in that sensitive almost ticklish area, "that I would take care of it." Sam slowly worked his way up the back Dean's thigh, nipping, licking and sucking, running his hands teasingly up and down Dean's inner and outer thigh, almost touching but never quite, that hard shaft waiting for Sam's mouth. "And I will. Eventually." Getting close enough, he directed his attention to Dean's inner thigh, giving it as much thorough attention as he had the other one. "When you're really ready." He knew he was torturing Dean and he loved it. The way Dean groaned and shifted, trying to get Sam to touch him only made Sam grin more. "When you beg me to finish you." He flicked his tongue into the crease on that side, but began touching Dean's sac more often with his tongue, beginning to let his lips touch it, and kiss it and barely suck on it, dancing his tongue over the flesh trapped beneath his lips.

He slowly sucked Dean's sac into his mouth. He played with the balls with his tongue, periodically sucking a little, drawing them a tad deeper before releasing them, only to suck on them again. He finally let them slip from his mouth, but teased Dean a little more, first sucking one then the other back into his moaning mouth.

“Bastard…” Dean groaned softly at Sam’s reply, frowning down at the other man before letting his head fall back against the mattress with another moan. Not that he was really complaining despite the fact that Sam was obviously teasing him, playing some kind of game, and Dean didn’t like games. Especially games that Dean wasn’t even sure what the rules were. Dean had a flicker of doubt about this whole thing, wondering if maybe he should just stop it now.

But he couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying himself. Sam’s hands on him felt good. His mouth felt damned good. Who cared if it was a game? If Sam wanted to play, he’d play along, for now. If it went somewhere he didn’t like, he could just tell the other man to stop. Right now stopping was the furthest thing from Dean’s mind, however.

He tugged once more ineffectually on the other man’s hair before simply relaxing and letting Sam do what he wanted. Moaning a little louder the higher up on his thigh Sam worked. The tongue occasionally swiping over his balls making them feel tight and heavy, his cock leaking all the more generously over his stomach. Though when the other man made his comment about making him “beg” Dean couldn’t help but smirk.

“What makes you think I’m going to beg? Overconfident much?” Dean countered as another deep groan of pleasure broke from his throat as Sam began to suck on his balls.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at Dean's comment. He didn't really give a shit if Dean begged or not. But Dean's comment followed by the groan told Sam he was doing a good job and that all he really cared about; giving Dean the best fucking blow job of his life.

Dean's sounds of ecstasy told Sam he'd teased Dean enough. He ran his tongue up along the underside of Dean's erection. Dean's shudder and loud groan made his own cock leak harder. He was already hurting so much it hardly mattered. He just couldn't get any harder.

He stroked the shaft again with his tongue pausing long enough to focus on the sensitive spot just below the crown, playing with it, sucking on it and licking it. He flicked his tongue up to Dean's slit, lapping up the dribbling precome with deep moans. He suddenly took all of Dean into his mouth for just a moment, then slid back off, returning to playing with his slit. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's hips and slid both his hands underneath Dean's ass. Sam's tongue danced between the fresh pool of precome on Dean's stomach, Dean's crown, and the sides of Dean's shaft. He had to hold Dean's body steady as he continued to work Dean's cock, sliding down it, pulling off, sucking on it and using every skill he had ever learned to make it feel as possibly good as he could make it.

Dean's desperate little thrusts into Sam's mouth were heaven. Each time Dean thrust, Sam sucked and let Dean get a little further into his mouth. He knew Dean couldn't last much longer. Dean's cock was like steel at this point, and to make Dean wait much longer would be torture. While he would love to keep Dean on that sharp edge between pleasure and pain, he didn't want to push Dean too far. He wanted Dean to want it again. As tempting as it was to grip Dean at his base and keep him from coming, Sam wouldn't.

He reached down to his own cock that was a seeping mess of come. After drenching his fingers in his own semen, he finally went fully down on Dean, giving the man what they both wanted. Sam had no problem swallowing Dean's engorged cock and groaned his delight as having Dean in his mouth. He let Dean begin to thrust, let Dean get a good pace going, one that was increasing and one that absolutely nothing could stop. Dean was on his way toward release. As Dean's thrusts became harder, as his groans became louder as he fucked Sam's mouth, Sam slid two come-lubed fingers into Dean's ass in a single push, certain to brush Dean's prostate immediately, erasing any sudden burn with the delight of the hitting that nerve bundle. Each time Dean hit the high point of his thrust deep in Sam's throat, Sam pressed his long fingers in that perfect spot of nerves to try to heighten Dean's pleasure.

He wanted to wait to come until Dean had but he just wasn't sure he was going to be able to as Dean's pace increased and Sam greedily swallowed each precious thrust, bobbing his head to take Dean in as far as he possible could. Sam was coming and felt the overwhelming shudder as his cock finally released everything it had been holding for far too long. If his mouth wasn't full of Dean he would have screamed Dean's name with all the breath in him. He pulled his fingers free of Dean's hole, not wanting to risk hurting Dean during his own throes of orgasm. He sucked Dean hard then, begging Dean to release into him.

Dean couldn’t deny that Sam had a fucking incredible mouth and that he was really beginning to get into it. When the other man finally stopped teasing him and slid his tongue up the length of his cock, Dean couldn’t help lifting his hips, seeking more, as the shiver of pleasure that ran through his body made him groan even louder than before. Loud enough it made him briefly hope that the walls between the rooms weren’t as paper thin as the normal dumps he stayed in. But when Sam’s lips and tongue began teasing around the crown, licking and sucking his dick in just the right way, Dean mentally said a fuck you to the neighbors. Let them enjoy the show.

The skill in which Sam played with his cock, paying special attention to every inch of it, made him wonder briefly if professional cock sucker could be added to the list of professions the other man held, along with masseuse and hunter. Dean couldn’t have stopped from trying to fuck up into that exquisite mouth, silently begging for more, even if he wanted to.

And just as Sam promised, once he began to “beg” Sam gave him what he really wanted. Taking his cock deep into his mouth, into his throat, and Dean couldn’t help the loud cry of pleasure that was ripped from his throat.

“Fuck!” Dean bit his lip hard to help keep his noise down, if only so they wouldn’t be interrupted by the motel manager or something for “disturbing” the other guests, not that Dean really gave a shit. He just didn’t want anything to stop what Sam was doing to him. His hand fisting in the other man’s hair, holding him in place when Sam finally released his hold on his hips letting him begin to fuck up into his mouth.

It was so damned good, so damned perfect, Dean knew he was going to blow so fucking hard any second now. He was too far gone to recognize the touch of Sam’s fingers once more against his hole but not so far gone not to feel the sharp burning pain when they were shoved inside of him. His body jerking, his other hand clutching at Sam’s shoulder so tight his nails bit crescent marks into his skin. This isn’t what he wanted, but even as he opened his mouth to protest the simple one word syllable was lost in the explosion of pleasure from inside of him that nearly made him nearly come off the bed.

The only sound escaping his mouth loud unrestrained groans, he couldn’t form words, not a single one, and he couldn’t stop pushing up into Sam’s mouth. Thrusting hard between his lips, he just couldn’t stop, and the fingers inside him didn’t stop moving. Because he couldn’t tell the other man to stop, even though Dean was close to tears as painful memories long buried threatened to overwhelm him even as he was drowning in the pleasure of what Sam was doing to him now.

When he finally came it was a relief on many levels, it hurt on more than one level, though he told himself the almost sobbing noises he made in between loud grunts and groans of pleasure as his come poured into the other man’s mouth were only from pleasure. Nothing more. Though even before his cock stopped pulsing, before his body stopped trembling with the almost overwhelming ecstasy, he was pushing Sam away hard enough to send the other man sprawling back on the floor.

Dean was off the bed a second later, standing on shaky legs that barely held him, his hands balled into fists at his side, and his face a mask of fury. Not caring one damned bit how the other man looked up at him in a mixture of confusion and hurt written plainly on his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing! Who the hell said you could shove anything up my ass!” Dean yelled, surprised he’d managed to string together even those few words coherently enough. His skin still vibrating with pleasure, covered in sweat, and a bit of his own come that had splashed on him when he’d pushed Sam away, and yet all he could feel was shame and disgust. At himself. Not waiting for Sam to say a damned thing, Dean turned away and stormed into the bathroom. Slamming the door shut behind him so hard it rattled on its hinges. He didn’t give a fuck.

It was better than Sam could have hoped for. He thought he had come hard in the shower but now he came so hard his spunk hit the bedspread and splashed back onto his stomach in a wave. Dean's seed pulsed down his throat as Dean's fingers wrapped in his hair and he keened as he reached orgasm, as he arched and Sam took him in. Sam's hands shifted to the young man's waist as if to help lift him and steady him. He sucked and pumped and milked every last bit he could free of Dean.

And then he was on his ass staring up at Dean in complete and total shock, a bit of Dean's come dripping from the corner of his mouth. Dean was on his feet, nothing but fury etched on that beautiful face. How Dean was even standing when he could plainly see Dean was still thrumming with his hard release, the release that Sam was still tasting, had Sam amazed. Hell he wasn't sure he could stand yet. Dean's words cut through him sharper than any machete might. He watched, confused and hurt as Dean stalked away and slammed the bathroom door.

There had been nothing but pleasure for the man. The young hunter had been in throes of pure ecstasy. When Sam had pushed his fingers in, Dean nearly came off the bed and his yell of pleasure had been one of the rewards Sam had wanted. Dean had groaned like a porno star, fucking Sam's mouth so hard, reacting every time Sam caressed that sweet spot inside of him just as Sam intended. It was perfect. It was all so perfect. And when Dean came so hard in Sam's mouth the stream of spunk so strong it almost hurt, Dean had made the sounds of pleasure Sam craved for …But among those sounds had there been…sobs?

Sam felt his heart stop. Literally. The last waves of his own orgasm rippling through him had nothing to do with why he shook as he climbed to his feet.

Dean had been raped. Or abused. Sodomized without his consent. And Sam had done the unforgivable. He had repeated the abuse. He had been so intent on getting further into Dean's pants that he hadn't been a good lover. He had crossed a line that never should have been crossed without permission. He had done so plenty of times he was ashamed to admit, and the results were almost always rewarding, and almost always made the newest target of his hormones intrigued by that burst of pleasure they had never felt before. It typically gave Sam the chance to slowly and carefully introduce them to what love between two men could feel like.

He remembered how carefully Michael had taken him down that road.

But here, now, he had totally and completely shattered Dean's trust in him. It would only be worse when Dean discovered Sam had known he was turning and hadn't told him. If Dean had affairs to settle, he was stealing that time from him. Perhaps an old lover he wished to say goodbye to. Or make love to a last time. And Sam was being selfish. God damned thoughtless and selfish about fucking everything. Maybe he was more demonic than he ever cared to believe.

Hunter or not, it would have been easier to have killed Dean at the abandoned house, he thought bitterly. Dean would have never known anything. He was unconscious when Sam first found him. And Sam never would have … fallen… for the man for whom he couldn't seem to do anything right.

If only Dean were like Jacob. That's where they were headed because if Dean beat the virus, there were after effects that Jacob could tell him about far better than Sam. There was a craving for vampire blood which seemed counter-intuitive, but something in the antibodies needed that blood. Maybe to keep from attacking the human's own system until the antibodies had settled down or something.

Antibodies. What if…what if they could give Dean some of Jacob's blood and give him antibodies in the process? Could that…would that give Dean's body enough of an edge to fight back? If so, then they needed to get to Jacob's and get there yesterday. Why the hell hadn't he thought about it before now?

There was of course the sticky problem that he wasn't even sure Jacob was still alive. Jacob usually called every few years because he needed his "fix" of vampire blood. Sam would go and give him what he needed. But he hadn't called recently. Maybe he was dead. No. He couldn't be. Even if Dean never wanted to look at Sam again, so long as Dean was alive, that was all that mattered. He would call Jacob and pray Jacob was still among the living and hopefully in the process, keep Dean that way.

Tearing free a pillow case, Sam wiped himself down and pulled on some sweats. He would shower next door. In the room Dean had gotten for him. If he ever found out who had done this to Dean he would literally rip that person apart and slowly drain them of blood. After a very long period of torture.

Sam approached the bathroom door and ran his hand caressingly over it, wishing it was Dean's skin and that he could take the man into his arms and comfort him. "I'm sorry Dean," he said loudly enough for Dean to hear him. "I should have asked. I felt your discomfort with me touching you there. I assumed you had never been touched there before and was uncomfortable with the idea. I didn't think beyond wanting to give you the best experience I possibly could. It still wasn't right. I still should have asked. I swear to you, if I were to ever find out who raped you, I would tear them into scraps of flesh, guts and bones.

"I promised you I wouldn't leave your side. I won't. But I will go next door. You don't have to avoid me by staying in the bathroom. I'll be back in an hour. We need to get on the road soon." Sam ran his hand over the door one last time and whispered, not thinking Dean's hearing might be improved by now, "I love you Dean. I'm sorry my thoughtlessness did this to you."

Sam turned, grabbed his duffel, his motel key, the keys to the Impala, and quietly left the room.

Dean stood in front of the sink. His hands braced on the cold porcelain, his knuckles bone white he was clutching it so hard as though it were the only thing holding him up right now. Maybe it was. His eyes were closed and his head was bowed, refusing to look into the mirror in front of him. He didn’t want to see himself. Didn’t want to see if his face was still flushed and damp with sweat from the recent pleasure he’d experienced. Definitely didn’t want to see the opposite, himself pale and shaken.

Or worse, he’d look into the mirror and see his face, like he sometimes did in the very rare nightmare. It had happened so damn long ago, he just didn’t think about it. He’d pushed the memory so far down he barely remembered it at all, except a few times. Like when he’d see someone who looked enough like him, or a guy hit on him and smiled at him the same way he had, then he’d remember more than he wanted to. After what had just happened with Sam… he couldn’t help but remember every detail in crystal clarity, as though it had happened yesterday.

He’d been seventeen. It had been just after one of his first solo hunts. Nothing fancy, just a routine salt and burn while his dad had been on a different hunt with Bobby. It had pissed Dean off more than a little when his Dad had told him he couldn’t come along with them, obviously thinking he couldn’t handle himself on that big a job. But when his father had handed him the newspaper clipping about the haunting in Georgia it had mollified him. Dean had done the job, and with a few days to spare before he had to meet up with his father again, Dean had gone to the bar to celebrate and look for some fun.

He’d gotten in easily with his newest fake ID, and sat up at the bar, blatantly showing himself off and flirting shamelessly in between shots with every girl or guy who seemed interested. He’d only been there a little over an hour, but he was already a bit tipsy when he had come up to him. He’d been much older than Dean but he was absolutely gorgeous. He had thick dark hair, dark brown eyes, built like a brick shithouse, and a thick southern accent that washed over Dean warm enough it made his insides feel like they were melting.

They’d talked, Dean had let the guy buy him a few drinks, and when he’d asked Dean to come back to his place, he’d thought what the hell. Dean had been looking for a good time, and this guy definitely looked like he fit the bill. He’d never been so wrong in his life.

It had started out good enough when they’d gotten back to the older man’s apartment. They’d shared a joint and enjoyed some kissing and heavy petting. Damn the guy had been a great kisser. When he’d told him he wanted to fuck him, Dean had hesitated. It had only been his third time with a guy and he hadn’t done anything like that yet he wasn’t sure if he was ready to go all the way. When he’d expressed as much, that’s when the other man’s demeanor had changed. Not so much as to alarm him, though maybe it should have if he wasn’t already a bit drunk and high at the time. The guy said it was fine, they could still do other stuff. They’d gone to his bedroom… and that’s when the guy had hit him.

Sucker punched him actually, dropping him to his knees and before he’d had a chance to recover Dean had heard the click and felt cold metal around his wrists. Handcuffs. Of course he’d fought back but by then he was pretty much fucked. Literally and figuratively speaking. Slut… little fucking whore… bitch… the man had called him, wagging his ass all night and then refusing to put out. He said he’d give it to him, and he had, all right. He hadn’t wasted any time, shoving his dick inside of him with only the barest amount of preparation. Practically splitting him in two, and Dean couldn’t stop the tears from coursing down his cheeks while the other man fucked him. He hadn’t cried since he was thirteen and broke his arm, but that night he’d cried… just like a little bitch…

The guy hadn’t let him go until morning, dumping him on the side of the road outside of town and leaving him to walk two miles to his motel room even though he could barely move. Thankfully most of the bruises the guy had left on him were easily hidden under clothes. The few that weren’t, Dean had blamed on the hunt when his father had asked. He’d never told his father what had happened to him. He was too ashamed. He just wanted to forget it had ever happened.

Dean heard Sam’s voice on the other side of the door and tensed even more if it were possible. His fingers tightening so much on the sink they hurt from the strain. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t been expecting Sam to apologize. He wasn’t really sure how to handle it either. He knew Sam hadn’t meant to hurt him, hadn’t hurt him at all even. It wasn’t really the other man’s fault he was so… fucked up. Maybe it should be Dean apologizing, for blowing up at him for the second time. For going along with it in the first place when he knew it was a bad idea. Just like it was his fault for going home with the wrong guy in the first place. He certainly couldn’t blame Sam for that.

Dean swallowed hard when the other man mentioned what he would do to the man who had… He didn’t know if he felt even more embarrassed and ashamed over what had happened because Sam had guessed what had happened to him or… he didn’t know what… that Sam apparently cared enough about him to offer that. And he knew it really was an offer. Hunters weren’t the type of men to make idle threats like that.

He thought he heard Sam say something else, but he couldn’t make out the words. Dean did hear the outside door open and close however and he sighed heavily. Turning on the cold tap on the sink and splashing his face with the water. Shower. He definitely needed a shower. Pulling the bandages off his back by himself wasn’t all that pleasant but he managed. He got into the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand. Letting the water wash away his sweat, the evidence of his pleasure, everything. Even memories.

Sam picked his other suitcase up from the back seat and carried it in with him. He would want to shave and at this point he wanted his own soap and shampoo. He wanted to smell like himself, not some two-bit whore from a cheap motel. Even if he felt like one.

He practically threw his stuff onto the bed and rummaged through his bags recklessly, not caring that his always so meticulously folded clothes and other supplies were being rumpled, wadded up and tossed about. He didn't even bother to hang his suitcase up to keep his clothes neat. He grabbed up his stuff and stared a moment at the mess he'd made on the bed with his shit scattered everywhere. It looked like Dean had been here. He set his jaw and forced himself to repack his things so they were neat and ready to go at a moment's notice. He didn't want any reminders. All he could do now was try to keep Dean alive. He wouldn't touch him unless Dean fell again, and if he did touch Dean, he would keep it so cool and professional his touch would practically be like ice. He was certain Dean wouldn't come within reach anyhow unless he had absolutely no choice.

He stared at his cell phone a moment before turning away. He needed his shower first. He would deal with the rest after that. He didn't want to know that he would once again fail Dean. With a shower he might be able to face it better. When he didn't stink of his own semen. When the sweet taste of Dean was washed free of his mouth. When he could return to being the bastard of a hunter known as Sam Cristo. He would start looking for a new job as soon as possible. Something bloody. Something evil. Something he could rip apart with his bare hands and bathe in its blood. He laughed bitterly as he knew he would never hunt the vampires that did this to Dean. They had a get out jail free card. He would want no reminders, no matter the outcome…though if Dean did die and did forgive Sam before he died…he might. Hell, he was too confused, too knotted up inside to think that far ahead. One foot in front of the other was the best he could manage at the moment.

He stepped into the shower not caring the water was icy. He didn't care that he let his heartbeat slow and that his skin began to lose its warmth and its color. He was a vampire. Let him be one, just for now. As a vampire he could be as cold hearted as he wanted. He needed that right now.

After thoroughly washing away his sweat, Dean's sweat, his semen, everything, he got out of the shower and quickly brushed his teeth then gave himself a shave. He looked positively white. He hadn’t seen himself like this, not this pale, in years. He averted his eyes from his reflection. This was the visage of the creature that killed for blood. The one that didn't care who it killed to get that blood. Sam supposed he should be glad he wasn't particularly hungry. If Jacob was dead, maybe they would stay in this town for the night. Maybe Sam would get stinking drunk and go out hunting for food. Maybe he'd get really lucky and find some wife-beater or other well deserving soul that needed to be drained dry. He could wait until Dean was asleep. Dean wouldn't need to know.

And oh yes, that was one more reason for Dean to hate him. There were a lot of reasons. He'd lusted after Dean from the moment he had laid eyes on the boy. He'd left Dean alone and went drinking and to get laid. He knew Dean was turning and hadn't told him. He had stuffed his fingers up Dean's ass without asking, really without much preparation at all. And then, when Dean found out Sam was really a vampire himself? Oh yeah. That was going to go so very well. He had seen fury in Dean's face. He was really looking forward to the hate and revulsion. That would certainly round out his week.

He slammed his fist into the wall with everything in him, punching clear through into the closet, feeling some of the bones in his hand shatter. Pain. Physical pain. Yes. That felt good. That helped clear his head. His hand would heal soon enough.

He rinsed the drywall dust from his hand and toweled it dry, ignoring the blood. He paused long enough to put his knuckles back in place then got dressed, selecting his nicer set, his dockers and a button-down shirt. He didn't bother with the sunblock. A few hours in the sun wouldn't be that bad and he just didn't care.

Rolling up his discarded sweatpants he slid them down into a side pouch of his suitcase. He shook his head suddenly, ripped them back out, and threw them into the trash. He never wanted to see them again.

With a sigh, he knew he had stalled long enough. Picking up the cell phone, he punched in Jacob's number. On the fourth ring he sank onto the bed. He just knew Jacob was dead. Jacob was Dean's only chance. He could leave, he supposed. Let Dean turn, let him "live" on. But he had promised…

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered.

Sam sat dumbly for a moment. Jacob was alive?

"Hello?" the old man said again.

"Jake?" Sam asked, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

"Sammy?" Jacob said. "Well I was just thinking about you. How are you doing?" Jacob's gruff voice had turned warm and friendly.

Sam felt his heart stutter a little and then begin to pick up its pace. He felt some warmth returning to his limbs. "I'm…I'm okay. How are you?"

"I know that tone of voice," Jacob said. "I haven't heard that tremor in your voice since Jessica passed. You didn't tell me you'd found someone new. I take it things have gone badly? Why don't you come on by, Sammy. We'll get drunk. Then we'll drink. You from me, me from you, and I may be an old man, but I still have strong arms for my friend."

Sam couldn't help the small smile that came to his lips. He and Jake had made love only a couple times. Jake was mostly curious but decided he really preferred a busty girl to a well-hung man. Sam remembered the young man that had barely been a man, the man that convinced Sam to let him live, at least live long enough to see if he'd go vampire. Even swore he would try to go vegetarian if Sam helped him. He just didn't want to die. So Sam had tended him, grown fond of the stubborn kid, and watched in amazement as Jacob beat the virus just as he swore he was going to.

"I would like to bring a …hunter to you. He's turning. I thought maybe if you would be willing to give him some of your blood, maybe it would be enough to get him through it. Maybe he would live."

"He your lover?" Jacob asked bluntly.

Sam's breath caught and it took him a moment to answer. "…No."

"You're a shitty liar. You've gone and fallen for the man, haven't you?"

"Jake," Sam begged softly, "don't ask. Just let it rest. It didn't work out, okay? At this point he probably hates me."

"But you need to try to save him anyway. If half those monsters out there knew the big-badass Samuel Cristo had a soft spot a mile wide, you would be in serious trouble."

Laughing softly Sam agreed. "Yeah. You're probably right. So you're okay with this?"

"Yeah. You love him, he hates you…most important though, you love him. You know I'd do anything for you Sammy. How far away are you?"

"We can probably make it by tomorrow. I wasn't really paying much attention to where we were headed. We're in northern Texas. It depends how fast Dean's fever keeps climbing. Depends if he manages to stay human long enough for it to even matter."

Jacob tsked. "You do have it bad for the man, don't you? You're never this pessimistic. Well, rarely this pessimistic. Okay. I'll have everything ready. Helluva birthday present you're giving me. I expect a stripper out of this though. Busts the size of pumpkins."

Sam couldn't stop his smile. Jake always knew how to make him laugh. "All right. I'll find you one old man. No having a heart attack when she gives you the lap dance from hell."

"Doctor says I'm fit as a fiddle. Finds it hard to believe I'm almost ninety-eight. I think if I would have paid more attention to my cravings when I was younger, drank from you more often, I'd have stayed younger longer. Must be that vampire fountain youth or something. I'll see you tomorrow Sammy."

"See you soon, Jake. Don’t go dying on me or something tonight."

"Pessimist," Jacob chastised and ended the call.

There was hope. Slim, but better than what they had before. No sense putting this off then. He slung his things over his shoulder and carried them out to the car, his right hand throbbing. You would think he would have the brains to punch through a wall with his left hand instead of his right. He glanced at his hand. Still bleeding a little. He'd wrap it up while Dean was getting food to go, or they were on the road. Sam had lost all interest in breakfast at this point.

He went up to Dean's door and rapped lightly on it. "Are you ready Dean? We need to hit the road." Sam stepped back from the door, wanting to make sure he gave Dean plenty of space when Dean came out.

By the time Dean finished his shower he was mostly done freaking out. Enough to start feeling really guilty, not to mention ashamed, over what had happened between himself and Sam.

He’d managed to push back the unpleasant memories of being a stupid teenager, something he had a lot of practice at. Effectively burying them back where they belonged, mostly forgotten. He almost would have liked to do the same with what had happened between himself and Sam, forgetting it ever happened. But he knew that wouldn’t be so easy, especially considering he’d have to face the other man at least once more before they parted ways.

Dean sighed heavily as he reached for one of the scratchy motel towels and began drying himself off. So much for worst case scenarios… maybe he should have anticipated this. If he had, he definitely wouldn’t have gone through with it in the first place. The absolute last thing he needed right now was to deal with this kind of shit. Even so, he certainly could have handled the whole thing better.

The other man had done nothing really to deserve being treated that way, and Dean knew he should apologize. Hell, Sam had apologized and he really hadn’t even done anything wrong. It was Dean’s own damn stupid fault for letting it happen in the first place. While he’d rather not mention the incident ever again, content to forget about it, Sam deserved at least an apology, considering he’d saved his life and more. Only Dean didn’t really do apologies often, and he wasn’t all that sure how to handle it.

Sorry for freaking out after you gave me a great fucking blowjob. Yeah, that sounded good. Maybe he should try it out loud, maybe it would sound even more ridiculous. Dean wrapped the towel around his waist, out of habits sake, before he opened the bathroom door even knowing that Sam wasn’t in the other room. He avoided looking at the bed as he went over to his duffel for his clothes. Rubbing his forehead and wishing he had a bottle of aspirin he could down for the mother of a headache he was developing.

Dean pulled on his underwear and a pair of jeans, feeling a little bit better now that he had some of his “armor” back in place. He left off his t-shirt, wanting to check his back before he put it on. He knew he should probably ask Cristo to bandage it again for him, but given the situation who could blame him for being a bit reluctant to ask Sam for anything right now? Besides, the wounds hadn’t felt so bad while he was showering, maybe he didn’t really need the bandages anymore, though considering the fever he still had from the infections that was doubtful.

Dean walked back into the bathroom with the first aid kit, wiped down the fogged mirror with another towel and turned around to get a good look at his back. His eyebrows arching in shock when not only he couldn’t see any signs of an infection in the wounds, the wounds themselves were practically healed. Some of them completely healed, not even a scar remaining on his skin as a sign of the abuse he’d suffered at the vampires hands. That was imposs…

The young hunter staggered and found himself once more gripping at the sink for support for an entirely different reason as understanding dawned. All the signs clicking into place now that he wasn’t ignoring or denying them. The fever, how hungry and thirsty he felt, how the sunlight was bothering him more than usual, how fast he was healing… he was turning. He’d been fed blood. He’d thought he’d been almost home free and instead…

A harsh sound that wasn’t quite laughter broke from his throat. He abruptly turned away from the mirror, before he could do something like put a fist through it, walking back into the bedroom and sitting down heavily on the bed. Hanging his head in his hands he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the whole situation. He was fucked. Completely, and totally fucked.

There was probably something fitting then that the guy who’d just fucked him chose that moment to knock on the door. Asking him if he was ready to leave and another insane burst of hilarity made him laugh so hard his stomach hurt. A few tears slipping down his cheeks that Dean angrily wiped away. With a resigned sigh, Dean stood up and walked over to the door. Unlocking and opening it. Barely looking at the other hunter in the eyes before he motioned for the other man to come in, and turned away to go over and sit in one of the chairs by the window. Wincing at the glare of the sun, and having to fight down another less than sane urge to laugh.

“We don’t need to go anywhere…” Dean began, but found himself choking over his own words. Unable to say them out loud, as though by avoiding doing so that would make them any less true, any less damning, final… “They gave me blood. I’m turning…”

Sam's brow creased when he heard the laughter from inside. What the hell did Dean think was so funny? That Sam thought Dean would go anywhere with him? He supposed he couldn't blame him, but tough. Dean was just going to have to suck it up. Dean was going to have to deal with him for a few more days. Sam would make it as easy on Dean as he possibly could. He wasn't going to sit in the back seat though.

When the door opened and Dean would hardly look at him, Sam sighed. He deserved that too he guessed. He was surprised Dean would even want him to come in. Maybe Dean needed help with his duffels or something. Since Dean's shirt was off (and damn did that chest of his look so fucking fine and kissable) Dean probably needed Sam to bandage his back. That was not something that was easy to do by oneself. Even if Dean hated him, there was a time for practicality and hunters were nothing if not practical. Whatever it took to get the job done.

When Dean turned from him, his breath hissed softly. Dean's back was almost healed up. Maybe Dean hadn't noticed? Yeah, sure. Dean wasn't stupid. Maybe in denial, but not stupid. He could hope Dean was still in denial. He watched as Dean went over to the window, scowling as Dean sank into the chair, his shoulders hunched, defeat clear in his body language. He tilted his head a little. Dean's heart was racing; stuttering badly, but racing.

He cursed softly at Dean's admission. And now Sam was going to have to own up to knowing that. What a fucking wonderful day. One more thing for Dean to go ballistic about.

Dean was stubborn. Would he be able to convince Dean that there was still hope? If Dean really had given up, that reduced his chances even more. He had to fight it dammit. Had to fight hard against the virus or it was going to win.

"Yeah. I've known for awhile," Sam said coolly. "That's why we're headed to my friend's. He's going to give you some of his blood. He's got active antibodies to the virus. Don't know if it'll work, but it's your only shot of coming through this human. If it doesn't work, we'll deal with it then. You can try to go vegetarian." Sam winced at using the slang Dean probably wouldn't understand. "Living off animal blood," he explained. "It's hard but not impossible. At least so those types of vampires I've met have told me." It took all his control not to walk over to Dean and rub his shoulders, convince him that it would be okay no matter what, that Sam would take care of Dean if Dean would let him. Instead he stood and waited for the explosion of anger he knew was coming. Dean was going to be so pissed at him for not telling him. Pissing Dean off was one talent he apparently had in spades.

Dean wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting Sam to say to his “revelation” but hearing the other hunter say quite plainly that he’d known for a while certainly wasn’t it. Dean’s head snapped up, his eyes wide in shock, maybe a little disbelief, before his expression turned positively thunderous. Dean barely heard anything else Sam said. The other hunter’s first words playing over and over in his head like a broken record.

He knew. He knew?!

Before Dean even realized he was on his feet, he was. Before he realized he’d closed the distance between them, he already had. And before he realized he’d punched the other hunter so hard he’d knocked the other man on his ass the second time in less than an hour, his knuckles were already bleeding.

“You KNEW!? When the fuck were you planning on telling me?! After you were done fucking me?! Or maybe as an afterthought after I’d already killed someone before you cut off my head without warning?!” He yelled, not giving a flying fuck who heard him. Dean stood over the other man, literally shaking with anger, before something shifted inside of him, and he grew deathly still.

His eyes locked on the red line of blood that dripped from Sam’s lip, down his chin. The hunger that had been gnawing inside his gut the past couple of days now turning into a ravenous beast trying to claw its way out.

Before he knew what he was doing, he dropped to his knees in front of the other man. His hands reaching out, fisting in Sam’s shirt, and yanking him forward, his tongue trailing up that line of blood from the other man’s chin to his lips. With a groan deeper and more obscene than when he’d had Sam’s lips around his cock, he his tongue lapped up the blood as he sucked heavily on the other man’s lower lip for more.

He saw the words sink in. He saw the rage. Dean was on his feet and suddenly Sam's head snapped sideways as Dean hit him so hard that if he had been human, it might well have done more than just send him flying backwards, his head reeling from the blow. It had been awhile since he had had his ass kicked by another vampire and he really wasn't looking forward to all the broken bones. Even if Dean wasn't nearly at full strength yet, it was still going to hurt.

Dean's words didn't really get through the ringing in his ears. All he heard was the fury. When the sudden silence draped itself over the room, Sam felt his breath catch and he looked up at Dean, almost panicking that Dean might have a machete at hand and Sam wasn't just going to get his ass kicked. Instead he saw the look on Dean's face. Before he could react, before he could back away, Dean had pulled him close, his tongue running up his chin to his lip and then began sucking on his lip, moaning like he wanted to make all sorts of love to Sam. Sam couldn't help himself and wrapped his arms around the man, still confused, but with Dean sucking on his lip, groaning, his cock was not at all confused and perked right up with interest.

And then he felt Dean's teeth bite into his split lip, drawing forth more blood.

Oh, crap.

They were in a fucking catch-22. If he let Dean feed on him, that would probably only speed up his turning, not as fast as human blood would, thankfully, because his version of the virus would war with the one already in Dean, but it would probably still accelerate it. With Dean already into bloodlust, they really didn't have much time. If he didn't let Dean feed, they would fight and even if Dean wasn't really a vampire yet, the bloodlust would make Dean strong enough Sam would have a hard time handling Dean without killing him. If he could get some blood into Dean, ease that hunger, he should be able to take Dean down and get him to Jacob's. He really couldn't risk not letting Dean feed because if Dean got away from him, Dean would kill someone. Okay. So Dean would drink. That was the first step. Sam was going to be fucking starved by the time this was over, but it's not like he would let Dean drain him enough to drive Sam into his own bloodlust.

He needed a blade. He eyed Dean's duffel by the bed. Surely there would be one or more in there. Fucking sloppy not to re-arm himself. But he hadn't been thinking clearly since Dean had come into his life.

He lifted Dean to his feet as he regained his own and began to guide Dean over toward the bed and the nearby duffel. He tried to ignore his hard erection pressing against the man who was wrapped so tightly around him sucking on his bloodied lip. He couldn't stop his own groan as Dean shifted, rubbing against Sam's hard dick, either intentionally or unintentionally, Sam wasn't sure. Sam didn't mean to, but he gave a small thrust against Dean all the same, his cock wanting, needing that pressure.

Knife. He had to focus on getting hold of a knife. He clung tenaciously to that thought trying to ignore the sounds Dean was making and what they did to him.

Dean wasn't thinking. Couldn't think. He could only feel. All he felt was need, and what he needed right now was Sam.

The smell of the other man was intoxicating him, and his taste... god the taste... it filled his mouth so sweet, every time he licked at Sam's swollen lips. His tongue chased the flavor into his mouth, around his teeth, licking at the roof of Sam's mouth and stroking his tongue. Pulling back when that wasn't enough and sinking his teeth sharply into Sam's already bleeding lip. The extra burst of sweet coppery flavor over his tongue nearly making him swoon, and he sucked harder on Sam's bloodied lip, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

He groaned when Sam pulled him up to his feet, his fingers releasing the other man's shirt only to dig into his biceps instead. Holding onto Sam tightly, not letting him pull away, and surely leaving bruises on his arms, but Dean hardly cared. He was prepared to fight to keep Sam from pulling away, but Sam wasn't pulling away. Sam held onto him just as tightly. They were pressed so close there was no mistaking the hard thickening flesh pressing into his stomach and Dean moaned obscenely as he rubbed himself against it. Against Sam. He could feel it throbbing against him. Feel the pulse of blood. Hear it. Taste it. Wanted it.

His arms slid around Sam, clutching at his back. He finally released Sam's swollen and tender lips, letting his tongue trail over the other man's chin and jaw, lapping up the blood as he went, down his throat. Scraping his teeth over the hard pulse at the other man's neck. Feeling it, the blood, throbbing hard against his tongue as he licked across it. Moaning, Dean bit down hard, just shy of breaking the skin and rocked his hips against Sam at the same time. A low needy growl working its way out of his throat.

Dean's hands running over his back, Dean sucking and kissing him, rubbing against him was really making it hard to stay focused. When Dean stopped kissing him, it was almost a relief. Made it easier to see where he was trying to lead Dean, made it easier to focus on his goal of the duffel and the knife that was surely down inside. He felt Dean's mouth follow the blood trail back down his chin to his jaw and it should return to his lips any moment now…

When instead of coming back to the blood that should be attracting Dean, Dean's mouth continued further down, ready to strike at Sam's carotid. Sam cringed. Just because Dean didn't have vampiric teeth yet didn't mean he wouldn't be able to rip Sam's throat open to get at the blood he was in such desperate need of. Dammit, Sam needed that knife. Dean drinking from his neck would complicate matters. Sam could slow his heart down, keep the blood loss to a minimum, but it was going to be an inconvenience to have his throat opened up. He would have to keep his heart rate down until it healed, and he was going to need blood in order to get it to heal quickly. Once Dean was sated and back to 'normal,' he didn't figure it was going to take Dean long to figure out Sam was a vampire. Fast healing, slow heart beat, cool body temperature. Well, if Dean did fully turn, he had planned on telling Dean anyhow. But really, could this get any more fucked up?

Dean scraped his teeth across Sam's artery then licked his neck, catching Sam a bit off guard. There shouldn't be any foreplay. Dean should be going right for the blood rushing through the artery so close and vulnerable. Then Dean bit down hard…but didn't break the skin…and thrust against Sam. Sam felt his knees go weak.

For a human, the neck was sensitive, it was a turn-on of a place to have a lover lick and suck on. For a vampire it was practically like getting a blow job. The neck was their weak spot on so many levels. Sever their neck and they died. Suck on their neck, bite their neck, and they melted. Sam groaned loudly, feeling Dean's teeth and tongue on his neck and feeling their erections pressed against each other.

And then Dean growled.

That growl sent electricity coursing through Sam. Dean hadn't drawn blood; he had bitten and he had licked and he had pressed against Sam. The growl wasn't a shock if Dean was ready to rip open his throat and feed, but this growl was the growl of a lover. Dean wanted to claim him.

There were two types of bloodlust a vampire suffered. One was the lust for blood, a need to feed like any animal or human, but a need so intense that anything the vampire considered prey would be attacked and likely killed. The second was a bloodlust of a sexual nature. The smell of a person was enough to drive a vampire to attack because the blood of that target matched the need of the vampire in ways that a human just couldn't grasp. The target's blood was an elixir, an erotic delicious elixir that could destroy any coherent thought. If the target was human, it was pretty much a given that the vampire would force the human to drink blood and turn them. The vampire needed them, body, blood and soul. Their blood was an addiction almost impossible to deny, just like the touch of their body, just like their very presence. An older vampire could generally control either form of bloodlust. A young vampire couldn't. Dean was caught up in both forms right now. Certainly he hadn't fully turned, but this second form of bloodlust cast a whole new spin on everything.

Apparently Sam needed a fucking two by four upside the head.

It explained everything about Sam's recent behavior, about why he couldn't get Dean out of his system. He was suffering from the bloodlust as well and hadn't even put two and two together. He had so long suppressed it so he wouldn't turn Jessica that he just hadn't recognized it now.

Feeding Dean wasn't going to be enough. When Dean got a taste of Sam's blood, a real taste, not just the drops he's sucked from Sam's lips, one lust would be satisfied only to be replaced by another. Dammit, they needed to be on the road. If they were going to get to Jacob's before Dean completely turned, they needed to get going.

Sam really didn't want to think how ugly this was all going to be when Dean came back to his senses, but they would deal with that then. He was just glad he'd gotten Dean over to the foot of the bed and was almost within reach of the duffel.

Sam's groans of pleasure made Dean's dick throb almost painfully in the confines of his jeans, even as he grinned almost triumphantly against the other man's throat. His fingernails raked down Sam's back as he continued to lick, suck, and bite on that tender spot on the other man's neck. An angry reddish-purple mark quickly replacing the fading one that was already there, made by another, on Sam's flesh. Replacing that mark of possession with one of his own and the thrill he felt at that knowledge was indescribable.

They were so close, all he could feel and taste was Sam. His heat… god… he was so hot. He could feel the other man's pulse like it was vibrating through his whole body. It roared in his ears like the ocean, the incoming tide sweeping over him, drowning him. Dean rocked his hips hard against the other man's with a whimper of frustration at the feel of several layers of cloth separating them. Not enough. He wanted more. To drown in the other man's heat, have it surround him. His taste, he wanted to taste every inch of skin, every drop of blood. He wanted all of it. All of Sam…

"I need…" He gasped heavily against the other man's throat, his own heart was racing, and he was breathing so fast he was practically hyperventilating. He couldn't put into words this need he felt. He'd never felt anything like it. He couldn't describe it. He just wanted it… needed it…

With a desperate growl, Dean shoved the other man hard onto the bed behind them, following him down. Not that he would have cared at the moment if they'd both ended up on the floor instead. He was straddling his hips, pinning him in place, while he sucked even harder on his neck. His hands tearing at the other man's shirt desperate to feel the heat of his skin beneath his palms.

He ground his hips down against the other man's, even as his body rose up. A feral look in his eyes as he looked over his handiwork on Sam's neck as he raked his fingernails down Sam's bare chest, then slowly slid his palms back up. Resting one hand right over the other man's heart, the other beginning to toy with Sam's nipple.

He leaned in to capture Sam's lips again with a desperate groan, sucking hard on the bloody wound, rolling his hips harder, but it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed…

"Please…" He begged, not even sure what he was begging for.

Dean's continued and determined work on Sam's neck had him groaning and the hickey Dean was leaving on his throat would almost surely obliterate the one left by his short term lover back in town. If Dean was trying to claim him as his own, Dean would make sure no other person's mark was on him. His own heart was racing and he prayed Dean didn't choose that moment to tear into his throat because it would be a bitch to get his heart to slow down enough he didn't bleed out.

The hard thrust Dean gave Sam made Sam stumble. Hot breath rolled over his throat as Dean panted and tried to put into words that which was surely unfathomable to him. Taking advantage of Sam's momentary loss of balance, Dean twisted Sam around and Sam found himself on the bed, Dean growling again, straddling him, rubbing and grinding against Sam and making Sam groan as Dean's teeth sank into his neck again and sucked hard. Sam ran his hands along the man's sides, his nails scraping down the flesh. Dean tore his shirt open, buttons popping off in random directions.

Dean's scent was all over him at this point and was beginning to get under his skin, get inside of him. His erection was more than firm and every squirm Dean made Sam couldn't help but push back. A final, long lick of Dean's tongue along Sam's neck drove a shudder of need through Sam like he hadn't felt in years. Dean's green eyes were filled with bloodlust, beyond thought, beyond anything but the primal need the vampiric virus demanded. Dean's hands caressed Sam's muscular chest and one hand paused over sternum, searching for that pounding heart beat and probably not having any clue Sam was anything but human. Dean's fingers twisting and toying with his nipple extracted another moan from Sam and Sam dug his nails into Dean's sides. Suddenly Dean's mouth was back on his, biting down again on Sam's lip trying to draw out more blood and Dean groaned in frustration as he rubbed his groin desperately against Sam. Sam knew Dean wanted it all: the blood, the sex, the possession, the binding of the two of them into one.

Dean's soft cry of confusion, of wanting Sam to help him find what he needed, was the final jolt Sam needed to gather himself. He knew how Dean felt. The same desires echoed inside him. He wanted to totally devour the young man. He wanted to say fuck it, take Dean and keep him as his own, and just let Dean turn. But he couldn't. He couldn't place his desires above Dean's. And Dean did not want to turn.

He grabbed Dean by the shoulders and rolled, forcing Dean beneath him, his own growl low and demanding. He fastened his teeth on Dean's neck, careful not to break the skin because if he tasted Dean's blood there was no telling when they would end up getting on the road. As he sucked on Dean's neck, he popped open Dean's pants and almost tore apart the zipper. His hand worked Dean's cock as his teeth, lips and tongue returned the mark of possession. Sam knew Dean needed the mark on him as much as he had needed to mark Sam. Sitting up, Sam put his hand in the middle of Dean's chest.

"Don't move," Sam growled, his eyes narrowing, daring the younger almost-vampire to challenge him. He got off Dean, letting go of Dean's erection and then practically ripped Dean's pants off. "Lay there and I'll give you want you want, what you need," Sam growled, bending over and running his tongue along Dean's balls and up his thick delicious shaft, sucking just a moment on its tip. He looked up at Dean. "Move and I'll walk away and leave you like this. You'll never see me again, you'll never taste me again, you'll never get to fuck me, and," Sam ran his index finger over his bloody lip and rubbed it across Dean's, "you'll never get to drink my blood."

The strength with which the other man grabbed him, forcing him onto his back, so that Dean was now pinned beneath Sam should have alarmed him, had he had anything resembling rational thought left in him at that point. He didn’t. All he knew was he wanted. He needed. He didn’t know what he needed, but Sam did, and Sam was finally giving it to him. That was all he cared about. All that mattered.

The other man’s hands on him, Sam’s mouth at his neck, had Dean growling in pleasure like he’d never felt in his whole life. Dean arched his head back with a loud moan, giving Sam greater access to his throat. His hands clutching at the other man, desperately trying to draw him closer. Sam’s hand working open his jeans, wrapping around his cock, and stroking him had him bucking into that hand and shouting like he was in pain.

He was. It hurt, the need. It hurt so much, and it felt so good at the same time. Sam felt so good. He wanted him. Wanted all of him. Needed... Dean practically clawed at the other man’s back, a whimpering cry ripping itself free of his throat when Sam pushed away, holding him in place with one hand.

Sam’s order, the warning growl, caused defiance to flash in Dean’s eyes. But something in the other man’s tone registered inside him on a primal level he simply couldn’t understand, an instinct he couldn’t ignore, and though it pained him, Dean remained still. Obeying.

Though he laid there, panting like he’d been running a marathon, his fingers twisting in the sheets beneath him, almost ripping them, as Sam all but ripped his jeans off his legs. Leaving him completely bare beneath the other man. He was aching for Sam’s touch, wanting nothing more than to reach out to the other man and drag him back down to him, but he didn’t move except to part his legs without prompting. Giving Sam greater access to him.

Hissing through his teeth as the scorching heat of Sam’s tongue traveled up the length of his cock, his muscles straining and shaking from the effort to remain still. Sam’s threat of leaving him like this if he disobeyed causing such devastation to fill him like he surely hadn’t felt since the night his father had died.

“Please!” Dean whimpered without shame, his eyes begging. When Sam slid the bloody finger over his lips they parted and greedily sucked it into his mouth. Licking every trace of copper from it and moaning desperately.

Sam couldn't stop the feeling of pleasure and power that thrummed in him. Seeing Dean obey his order no matter how much it pained him reassured Sam he would be able to control Dean, so long as he didn't push it too far. Dean opening up his legs to him, inviting Sam to do what Sam had been wanting do, fuck the young man senseless, made him groan with desire. And then he remembered. Dean had been raped.

He knew the vampire in Dean would welcome him, would let him do whatever he wanted, but when Dean came out of the bloodlust, he would know, whether he remembered or not, that he had been invaded, and as far as Dean would be concerned, it would be without his consent since Dean was anything but in his right mind. Sam growled in frustration. He wanted to bury himself in Dean so deeply, wanted Dean to feel him so thoroughly his cock throbbed and the breath panted from him. Fuck. He would have to bottom. It would still be good, just not what he wanted and not really what Dean wanted. It didn't help when Dean sucked his finger into his mouth and licked and sucked on it.

Sam was the older vampire. Something in Dean registered that and if he submitted to the bloodlusted Dean, he was giving up power that he might need to keep Dean under control. He was getting damned tired of these freaking catch-22s….but if he ordered Dean to fuck him, made it clear to him it was his choice and not Dean's, he could retain power. That would have to do. He wouldn't rape Dean. It had to be Dean's conscious choice. Dammit why did he have to be so fucking noble?

Because that's what helped keep him more human than vampire.

He debated about the best place to give Dean blood. It would have been easy if all he had to do was feed Dean. He would have offered up his wrist, but Dean needed to fuck almost as badly as he needed the blood and he needed it soon before the urges pushed him fully primal. Low on the neck then, that would be the best place, practically just above the collar bone. He was also going to have to continue to be dominating. He really preferred a softer relationship with his lovers, but he didn't have any choice this time. He had to keep Dean under his control.

Sam dug into the duffel and found the knife. His lube was out in Dean's car. Lotion would have to do. It wasn't as if he was virgin tight, even if Dean's member was one of the larger he had had the pleasure of touching in a long time. He grabbed the lotion from the bathroom, hearing Dean's keening pleas not to leave him. He returned to stand between Dean's legs.

Sam stripped the clothes from his own body, standing naked and staring down at Dean with dark eyes filled with desire. He let Dean watch as he slowly cut a gash in the side of his neck about an inch above the collar bone. He licked the knife clean of his own blood, set the knife aside, then slowly crawled up Dean's body, rubbing Dean's firm erection against his chest and his stomach, until their cocks lay side by side. He could see it was taking every ounce of control in Dean not to pull Sam down to him, not to go for the blood, not to buck and rub against Sam.

He ran his hand through Dean's hair. "You're going to drink from me. You're going to stop drinking when I tell you, no matter how much you don't want to, you will. While you're drinking I want you inside me. You hear me? Your cock up my ass and you are going to fuck me until you come." He ran his hand down the side of Dean's neck, scraping fingernails over the carotid, rubbing there just a minute before moving lower to Dean's chest, playing with his nipples. He rubbed his cock long slow and hard against Dean's, moaning at the feel of being pressed against Dean, knowing the blood running down his own chest was driving Dean nuts. Watching but not able to touch, not able to do anything but smell it.

Sam leaned down and sucked on Dean's nipple, biting hard, licking, and sucking, rubbing his own warm blood across Dean's stomach in the process. The sounds Dean made had Sam rocking his hips, thrusting against the young man, moaning.

He opened the lotion and squirted some into his hand. He wrapped that hand around Dean's hard shaft and jacked him until Dean was so hard he was writhing and begging, still not sure, still confused, but Sam knew what Dean was feeling. He let go of Dean's cock and putting more lotion on his fingers, lubricated himself and stretched himself, knowing Dean would not be able to think clearly enough to do that for Sam, not able to hold back long.

As his hand returned to Dean's hard cock, Sam began to lean in closer. It was time.

"I know you want me inside you." Sam let go of Dean's member and ran his lubricated fingers along Dean's tight hole, pushing a finger inside, "but that's not the way I want it. I want you in me."

Sam wiped at the rivulet of blood running down his chest and licked it clean of his fingers. Draping himself over Dean, he kissed him hard, hard enough to probably bruise Dean's lip, letting Dean taste the blood. He broke the kiss suddenly, grabbed the hair on the back of Dean's head, and guided Dean to his neck. "Drink from me. Fuck me. I want you all over me until I decide otherwise."

“No…” Dean whined and moaned like he was in pain when Sam suddenly walked away from him. Panic filling him that he had done something to displease him and now Sam was leaving him like he’d threatened to do. Leaving him there, unsatisfied. Alone… The other man’s absence from his side, even though he could still see him in the room, wounding him deeper than the knife in Sam’s hand.

He wanted to get up. Grab the other man. Cling to him. Refuse to let him go, yet Sam had ordered him to remain and no matter how much it pained him he obeyed. Begging with everything in him for Sam to return to him. “Sam… please… please….”

The elation Dean felt when the other man finally returned to stand between his legs, so close that he could have reached out to touch Sam was indescribable. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode. He watched, never taking his eyes from the other man, as Sam stripped off his clothes. Fuck, he was so beautiful. Dean’s eyes grew darker as they followed the movement of the knife. Groaning as he watched it slice into the other man’s skin, the line of red that appeared, dripping crimson rubies down Sam’s chest.

It was torture, utter torture, to remain still. He wanted it. Wanted it so much. Dean whined as he watched the other man lick the blade clean, then downright growled as Sam finally moved closer, spreading his body out over him, rubbing against him. Dean clawed at the sheets under him, his body so tense it could have been made of stone. Waiting. Begging silently for Sam to give him what he wanted. What he needed. To release him from this fucking torment.

He couldn’t stop himself from rubbing into the hand that petted through his hair, he was only human. Moaning loudly when Sam finally told him what he wanted. His body arching beneath Sam, writhing uncontrollably. Growling and whining. Demanding and begging. Wanting. Needing. He felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get what he needed soon. He was going to die… or he was going to kill something. At the moment he honestly wasn’t sure which was more likely.

Still he waited. Groaning and muttering nonsense when Sam’s slick fingers curled around his painfully hard shaft, stroking him. Watching with even more hunger if it was possible while Sam prepared himself. He ached. Oh god, he ached.

“Please…” He hissed through his teeth feeling the press of the other man’s finger inside of him, so close to what he wanted, and still not giving him what he needed. Dean didn’t think he’d ever hated or wanted anyone so much at the same time. He growled, almost viciously attacking Sam’s mouth, his tongue chasing the flavor of blood and whining pitifully when the other man forced him to break the kiss.

Yet when Sam finally, finally, pulled him forward, giving him permission, the words were barely out of the other man’s mouth before his arms were around Sam, clutching at the other man’s back. His fingers digging hard into muscle and skin, refusing to let go, and not giving a damn as his lips fastened over the bloody wound at Sam’s neck. Closing his mouth greedily over it, his teeth latching on as he sucked, the euphoria that filled at that first taste utterly unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Yet even as exquisite as it was, it wasn’t enough.

His nails left small red welts down Sam’s back and buttocks as his hands shifted to the other man’s hips. Steadying him, as he thrust up hard into Sam’s body, filling him completely in one fluid movement and sucking harder on the wound at the same time. Yes… this was what he needed…

Dean wrapped himself around Sam with almost vampiric speed, the desperation, the need obvious. As Dean bit down hard on the wound at this neck Sam gasped and exposed his throat more. He knew Dean would bite hard with his human teeth and he expected it, but he had forgotten how damned good it felt. To have someone feeding from him. To have the scent of Dean washing through him as Dean sucked at his neck, drinking the blood the vampire in him needed. To have a lover's fingers digging into his back, Dean clinging to him, growling as he bit harder yet, sucking and drawing out as much blood as he could. Sam's climbing heart rate helped give Dean that blood. Dean's nails worked their way down Sam's back, practically raking over him. His member throbbed painfully and he wanted inside Dean so badly it took everything in him not to simply line himself up with Dean and enter him, pumping and moaning. Dean didn't give him that chance as Dean thrust inside of him and he shouted Dean's name, arching against him, rolling them over so he was below Dean, giving Dean the better leverage to let Dean fuck him as hard as Dean wanted.

Sam groaned, breathing Dean's scent in deeply, wanting that blood, that still mostly human blood that would taste beyond heaven. Dean's scent was driving him crazy and he raked his nails deeply along Dean's back. He felt the blood well up beneath the fingers on his right hand. He hadn't meant to draw blood but he had and now he could smell its copper. He growled deeply, responding to Dean's own growls as Dean fed on him, responding to Dean's shaft thrusting hard inside of him. His vampiric teeth descended from their hidden sheaths as Sam ran his fingers through the blood on Dean's back. He licked it hungrily from his fingers, groaning as the elixir caused an explosion of desire in him. He pushed back at Dean's thrusts, wanting more, his growl demanding more.

The part of him that could still form coherent thought suddenly realized that he had not given up any power of domination to Dean. It was right that the younger vampire was drinking at his throat, that the younger vampire was inside him. If Sam had taken Dean the way he desired, there would be no gentleness, no letting the all but virgin Dean get used to Sam being inside of him. He would have taken Dean, devoured him, and not cared if he hurt Dean. The human in him didn't want to hurt Dean but more shockingly to him, the vampire in him demanded that Dean would suffer no such harm. Dean was the younger vampire and was now under Sam's care. Sam would protect his cruentis soldaris, his blood soulmate, with his life.

The feelings rolling through him, the sounds they were making, were a long forgotten echo of his time with Michael. But with Michael they had been so close in age that neither could claim dominance. At least so he thought. He realized now that Michael had done for him what he was doing for Dean. Giving Dean what he needed. Even though he had been a little older than Michael, Michael had been the dominant one in their relationship. Although he gave Sam anything, everything, Sam wanted, Michael could and had backed Sam down. He found that discovery surprising and almost funny. It had taken around a century and a new soldaris to understand better his relationship with his first soldaris.

He arched against Dean, grabbing his hips, pulling his legs in tight, holding Dean deep inside of him and making him stop his desperate thrusts. He had demanded more, but Dean was not accustomed to making love to a man. Just as he hadn't been. He would need to teach him as Michael had taught him. He heard Dean's deep growl at his throat and the painful increase of pressure on his neck. He retracted his vampire teeth.

"Easy," he soothed. "I know how you need me. I know how you need to fuck me, but this won't satisfy you." He ran his fingers caressingly along Dean's back. He admittedly was glad when the growls faded from Dean's throat and the pressure of Dean's bite eased. "The blood should have eased your aching hunger, now you need to ease your aching desire. Feel your dick filling me." Sam tightened himself enough to let Dean feel him everywhere. "Feel it when you pull out and that momentary brush of cold air touches your cock before you bury yourself in me again. Feel the pressure against your crown, against your balls." Sam used his legs to pull Dean tighter against him and pushed against Dean, moaning as he did. He released his leglock on Dean. "Pull out a little," Sam instructed. When he had, Sam tilted Dean's hips and then pushed himself against Dean. When Dean's cock hit his prostate, his eyes practically rolled back as he couldn't help but thrust against it with a moan. "There," he gasped, "there is the spot I want you to hit every time you enter me."

He let go of Dean's hips and ran his fingers through Dean's hair. He thrust against Dean. "Fuck me, Lover, my soldaris," Sam told him and Dean didn't need any more encouragement. Dean was a fast learner and found that nerve bundle more often than not. Sam heard noises coming from his own throat that he hadn't made in years.

"So good, Dean, so fucking good," Sam murmured as he met each hard thrust with his own. With his heart hammering in his chest and Dean sucking determinedly at his throat, Sam knew he had to end Dean's feeding. He felt his own thirst, his own desire rise which each deep pump Dean gave him. He couldn't very well bury his teeth in Dean's neck but he wanted to, almost as badly as he wanted to be inside Dean the way Dean was inside him. The knife, it was just in reach. Inefficient, but it would have to do. He would still have to explain to Dean why he would want to drink Dean's blood, but he would worry about that when Dean asked. He was a very good liar.

"Stop feeding," Sam ordered sharply, beginning to feel a little light-headed. He had let Dean get a little bit more from him than he should have. He readied the knife to cut an identical slice in Dean's neck as he had in his own. And then he would feed from his cruentis soldaris and show Dean what it was like to have someone at his own throat, feeding from him while he was making love.

Dean had never felt anything like this in his life. Had never even imagined anything like this. This feeling of… closeness… to someone. Someone who was barely better than a stranger, and yet at this moment in time he felt as though he’d known Sam all his life. Had needed him all his life. Was his life, and he would never be the same without him.

He’d never imagined how good it would feel making love to a man, how tight and hot the other man’s body would feel surrounding his cock. So good. So damned good. Better than anything he’d ever felt before. Hearing Sam cry out, practically screaming out his name, in pleasure when he filled him. Knowing he was giving Sam such pleasure filling him with pride and pleasure as well.

Dean made a slightly startled sound when Sam suddenly rolled them both over, switching their positions, but he definitely approved of the change, and didn’t hesitate as he began thrusting into the other man. His body moving on instinct alone, finding the rhythm he needed and it was beyond exquisite.

Sam’s body beneath him, the feel of his skin, the sounds Sam made, his smell, pushed all of his senses to the limit. He couldn’t think, he could barely breathe, he felt like he was drowning in Sam, and he didn’t care. The feeling of the other man’s nails raking down his back, the slight pain, the smell of his own blood, only heightened the pleasure. Sam’s pulse beating so hard under his lips, every pump of that strong heart filling his mouth with thick coppery blood, was so sweet, so hot, and Dean groaned as he swallowed it greedily.

More. He wanted more. He wanted everything.

When Sam suddenly wrapped his legs tightly around his hips, stilling him when he was buried deep inside of him, he couldn’t contain the demanding growl that burst from his throat. Sinking his teeth a little bit deeper in Sam’s throat. However the other man’s gentle words, the soft soothing touches along his back, eased the sudden tension in his body. The almost animalistic sounds that should have frightened him quieted, and he relaxed his bite on Sam’s neck. Licking over the wound almost in apology, the moan that was pulled from his throat when he felt Sam’s body tighten around him was pure pleasure.

He let Sam guide him, the excruciatingly slow moves almost torture, but hearing the way Sam moaned as the other man guided him back in, to the place that would give him the most pleasure, was worth it. Dean practically purred, sucking a little more gently on Sam’s throat as he started to move his hips again. Slower. More controlled. Trying to hit that place deep inside of Sam with every stroke of his cock, and knowing he succeeded feeling Sam’s body tighten around him and hearing Sam moan, brought him even greater pleasure.

With Sam’s praise, his encouragement, Dean let his pace quicken. Thrusting hard and deep inside Sam. Feeling his balls tighten, his cock growing impossibly hard inside his lover, his muscles trembling a little with the effort to hold back. Not to come yet. Not wanting it to end, but he knew soon he wouldn’t have any choice. It felt too damn good. Too… perfect…

When Sam ordered him to stop feeding, he obeyed, not without regret but he didn’t growl or demand more. Though his hunger was sated his desire wasn’t and licked lightly around the wound with a deep moan. Pushing himself up a little more, feeling light headed, but not caring in the least as he brushed his lips lightly across Sam’s. Licking his lips. Kissing the other man with an aching tenderness that seemed completely out of place considering their desperate fucking, but he didn’t care.

Sam responded to Dean's kiss with a moan, tasting his own blood in the other man's mouth and feeling his already painfully hard cock engorge itself more. The kiss was so gentle, so loving, he found himself hoping that Dean did turn, that they could have it this way forever. Eternity would be so much more bearable with Dean at his side and in his bed.

He pushed Dean back from him a little, breaking their kiss. He held up the knife for Dean to see, his eyes flicking from Dean's eyes to Dean's throat. He put the knife blade low on Dean's throat and drew it quickly across the same approximate area he had cut open on his own neck. The knife hardly away from Dean's throat, he latched on just as Dean had on him. The sweet liquid filled his mouth and he groaned deeply. Still so human it had a different tang than the vampire blood he often fed on, yet it also held that exotic flavor of vampire all mixed into the taste that mirrored his deepest desires. He dropped the knife and clutched Dean to him, biting down, growling and sucking. Conscious thought all but left him as the blood filled his tastes, electrified his senses and setting him on fire. It took nearly every last remnant of control he had not to let his fangs out, not to bite down and let Dean feel what a real vampire lover at his neck felt like.

His tongue danced along the wound as he made love to Dean's neck with his mouth, knowing, feeling, hearing, Dean's reaction to the erotic sensations. His own cock hardened even more and he pushed desperately against Dean. A small corner of his brain told him he couldn't risk drinking long from Dean, but he wanted them both to come while his lips still sucked greedily, pulling Dean's delicious blood into his mouth. He felt Dean thrust harder into him and he couldn't hold back any longer. He lifted himself, thrusting sharply against Dean. His release was powerful and felt his seed coat his stomach and chest in pulsing waves. He bit down harder on Dean's neck, drawing a long last drink and felt Dean's own release inside him, Dean's cry of his name sending an exquisite shiver through every muscle in his body. He pumped Dean slowly then, drawing it out, as he licked at Dean's wound tenderly. He permitted himself to expose his fangs, running his blood coated tongue along their sharp points for a moment before returning his attention to Dean's neck, nuzzling Dean with his fangs, careful not to break the skin any further. He licked his way up to Dean's lips and barely managed to retract his fangs before Dean's lips were on his. He embraced each shudder Dean made inside him, his own cock jerking in answer to the pulses inside him.

"So damned good," Sam murmured as he kissed and licked at Dean's mouth, the taste of the mix of their blood better than anything he had tasted since Michael. "So perfect, so delicious, so good," Sam moaned, running his hands along Dean's back and down to knead Dean's buttocks. He rubbed his come-slicked abdomen against Dean as he kissed Dean passionately, holding Dean as if never to let him go.

Dean barely felt the bite of the blade against his throat. He was too far caught up in these feelings and desires he had no hope of controlling to care. When any other time he would have disarmed the other man immediately, would never have let the blade come anywhere near him, much less his neck. Instead of feeling threatened, or even concerned, he only groaned as the sharp metal kissed his skin. He barely felt his blood trailing down his skin because Sam’s lips were there almost instantly and the overwhelming pleasure that washed over him blinded him to anything else.

“Sam…” Dean panted out his lover’s name with practically every exhale. Moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of Sam’s tongue lapping at his skin, his teeth not quite nibbling and it should have hurt but it felt wonderful. Sam sucking, swallowing, his blood… that should have sent off red flags in every corner of the young hunter’s brain instead he only cried out louder in pleasure, as he fucked Sam harder. Practically screaming the other man’s name feeling Sam’s body convulsing around him, squeezing him so damn tight as the other man’s hot spunk splashed against his stomach. Dean coming a second later deep inside his lover, gasping and shuddering.

His release left him feeling so completely drained he barely felt the graze of teeth, far sharper than they should have been, at his neck. His thoughts were already growing heavy and sluggish even as he felt Sam’s lips once more on his own. Then like switches being turned off, his senses which seemed so acute seconds ago, seemed to one by one shut down.

He couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart, too fast and struggling at the same time. He couldn’t taste anything but blood in his mouth. When before all he could feel was pleasure, suddenly all he could feel was pain. Sharp and stabbing and he had no idea where it came from, it seemed to come from everywhere at once, beginning in his stomach and radiating outward. Fire… Burning through his veins… What was happening to him?

“Sam…” Dean whispered, confused and afraid, before his eyes rolled back in his head an all he saw was darkness. His arms gave out beneath him as he collapsed heavily on top of the other man.

Sam felt his lover's kiss become almost sleepy, felt Dean's muscles slowly relaxing, and he licked away the blood that dribbled from Dean's mouth as Dean moaned softly in pain and whispered his name. When Dean collapsed on top of him, Sam felt Dean's feverish skin and the tightening convulsions shaking Dean's body. Sam ran his hands up and down Dean's damp back. He pressed his cheek to Dean's. It was all going to be okay. It was just the fever of turning. Dean would soon be with him and they'd be…

It all came back to him in an instant. He had managed to keep some sensibilities while the bloodlust had him in its thrall, but only some. So much for older vampires being able to control it, Sam thought disgustedly. Okay, so he wasn't really all that old. And he hadn't had a vampire lover…in a long time. He hugged Dean to him for a moment, then slowly pulled away from Dean, immediately missing the feeling of Dean inside him. They had to be on the road. Every minute could mean the difference between saving Dean and losing him. Or gaining him as a … no. It wasn't what Dean wanted.

Once Dean was human again it was unlikely the scent of a soldaris would be enough to keep Dean at his side, no matter how good the sex was. Besides, Sam wouldn't be able to hide he was a vampire forever and he figured Dean would take the news rather poorly. First raped at some point by a man, then taking a male vampire on as a lover. He would be positively thrilled. If instead Dean turned, it was unlikely he would want to live on as a vampire. It was a terrible fate for a hunter, even if it did offer a great many benefits. After all, as a vampire nothing could really take a hunter down, well permanently, at least. Unless they severed his head of course.

Regardless, the end result was that Sam lost Dean no matter what. He would at least try his best to keep Dean alive. The thought of beheading his blood soulmate ripped into him deeper than any blade could. At this particular moment, he wasn't sure if he even could do it, no matter he promised Dean he would. It would be like killing half of himself. Only Stasi had kept Sam together after Michael's death. There was no one to do that for him now. Yes, Jessica had been a soldaris as well, but she was never a vampire and while her loss had been hard, and he had demanded vengeance, the burning loss wasn't quite the same as it would have been if she had been turned.

Sam pushed his desire for Dean back where it belonged. Deeply buried. He savored the taste in his mouth a moment longer before letting reality force him to do what he knew he had to. He gently rolled Dean off of him then moved to the bathroom. He stepped into the shower and quickly rinsed the come and blood and sweat from his body, mourning the loss of that sweet mixture of he and Dean on him. As soon as that was accomplished he dried off and got dressed. After he cleaned Dean up from their love making and bandaged Dean's neck wound, he soaked a blanket with cold water in the shower and wrapped Dean in it. Once he got the car loaded with their things and put the clean comforter from his bed in the passenger's side seat, he carried Dean out to the Impala and laid Dean down. Dean twitched now and again, moaning softly from the fever and the pain. Sam remembered how it hurt, having your body slowly die around you.

He filled the gas tank at a self-serve station and got on the road. Quickly gaining his bearings, he began to push the Impala hard. Getting to Jacob's as fast as possible was all that mattered to him. He occasionally laid a hand on Dean, checking his condition. Fever. Hot burning fever mixed with sporadic convulsions. When one of the two strains of viruses came out the winner, Dean's fever ought to reduce a few degrees for maybe two or three hours, until the winning strain began its final attack and Dean either turned or didn't. He had to be at Jacob's before that fresh spike of fever began. Keeping Dean from turning was already an iffy affair. Sam suspected if they didn't get Jacob's blood into Dean before the final fever, there would be no chance whatsoever.

He pressed the Impala's gas pedal down a little further.