Coffee.

It was Dean's first thought, the first thing he became aware of, after a long period of nothing. The nothing had been good. Better than nightmares. Better than blood, and pain, and hurt, and more pain than he could remember feeling in a long time. The nothing, had been very very good. But now the nothing was replaced by something even better. The smell of coffee, and if it was the last thing Dean did he knew he had to get himself a cup… or a gallon… of it.

The smell of the dark rich brew enticed him slowly away from the dark nothing, and he slowly became aware of other things. Like the warmth against his back, around him, steadying and comforting. The steady thump, thump, thump, sound underneath his hear. A warm, clean scent, faintly of soap and faintly of something else indefinable making him sigh softly and relax further back into the comforting warmth. Almost made him want to simply drop back into blissful sleep and better dreams, but then Dean remembered. Coffee.

So instead he let his body drift more towards wakefulness, though it was relaxed and slow. He became aware of how sore and achy he felt all over, and wrinkled his nose slightly in distaste at the rather unpleasant feel of drying sweat on his skin, but the warmth at his back and wrapped around him made those discomforts seem minimal at best. Dean turned his head and lifted his chin, seeking out more of that warm comforting scent but when he tried to shift and turn his movement was brought up short by a tugging on his wrist.

It was a little unsettling but something kept him from becoming too alarmed even as the last veils of sleep fell from his eyes if not completely from his brain and his eyes slit open. His sore eyes were immensely glad for the darkness of the room. He realized the fact it was morning by the small strip of light filtering through the thick curtains and the smell of coffee that had woken him coming from beyond the room. He also realized the warmth at his back was another's body in bed with him and the warmth wrapped around him was arms holding him almost protectively. Dean tilted his head up further, no longer surprised to realize the other man's identity holding him.

"Sam…" The other man's name falling from his lips as a soft sigh.

Dean went through two violent episodes as the fever scorched his body. Sam resorted to icing Dean down to get the fever lowered to a non-lethal temperature. He spent the hours tending to the man, doing anything and everything he could to try to ease Dean's tortured mind. Jacob had tried to get Sam to rest, tried to get him to eat, but Sam refused to leave Dean's side. Jacob brought him in glasses of blood from the cattle he had out back, and Sam finally reminded Jacob that he could actually go quite a long time without eating so long as he wasn't donating half his blood supply every other day. Granted, he liked to eat a little every couple days, but he could go a couple weeks or more without a good meal. Jacob's threats coerced him to drink the blood Jacob brought, sometimes a tall glass of cattle blood, sometimes a very small glass of Jacob's own blood, though he swore Jacob was going to end up anemic if he wasn’t careful.

Sam was exhausted by the time Dean's fever finally broke. He knew Dean would sleep for awhile and then he would awaken, human or vampire. At this point his fate was sealed. The beating heart suggested human, but newly turned vampires would often mimic their once human selves initially so it was no guarantee. Knowing nothing more could be done, Sam let himself drowse off, but still held Dean in his arms. If Dean was among the brethren, Sam would know soon enough.

He wasn't sure what roused him. The subtle shifting in his arms, the change in breathing, the change in heart rate, or Jacob's delicious smelling coffee. If blood was his first drink of choice, coffee was certainly his second.

He heard Dean's whisper and opened his eyes, answering him with a weary smile.

"Welcome back," Sam said. "I do have to check, you know." Sam reached over to the table beside the bed and picked up a knife. He nicked his wrist and exposed the wound to Dean, waiting to see whether they had won or lost the battle. If Dean was a vampire, there would be no stopping him. He would be in or near bloodlust. Dean might still find the blood a little enticing, a little bit of interest, if any part of him remembered that they were bloodmates. If so, he would be blessed with improved hearing, vision, rapid healing, long life in good health, and be a bit stronger than a typical human. Or he could be totally and completely uninterested in which case he was human except for the dormant virus in him—Jacob had decided to dub himself an anti-vampire and Dean one as well, by extension if Dean came through this more human than not. Though admittedly, Jacob did have slightly heightened senses himself.

Sam waited and watched, practically holding his breath, as he held the slowly bleeding wound out in offering to Dean.

Dean blinked up at Sam slowly when the other man roused, and Dean couldn’t deny how his heart rate sped up a little at the way the hunter smiled at him. Though Dean wasn’t fully awake yet, little slivers of memory slowly began filtering to the surface of his thoughts, though to be honest, most of it was a complete blur. Maybe that was a good thing considering what he did remember.

Check? Sam’s words made Dean frown for a second in confusion, his brain obviously not fully there yet despite the fact that he was “back”. He couldn’t help but watch intently as the other man made a small cut on his wrist and then held it in front of Dean. Close to his mouth, close enough for Dean to… the realization almost made him blanch even as he couldn’t turn his eyes away from the bright red liquid dripping down the surprisingly pale and delicate looking flesh despite the fact that Sam’s hands were so freakishly big.

Dean wasn’t at all interested in the smell of the coffee anymore. The smell of the blood filling his every sense and not just his nose. It seemed to soak in through the pores of his skin. The beating of the heart in the chest of the man he was laying against suddenly deafening.

With a small groan he couldn’t tell was pleasure or disgust at himself Dean found himself leaning forward, his arms straining a little against the chains holding him as he licked slowly up the trail of blood on Sam’s wrist. Closing his eyes as his lips sealed over the wound, his tongue flicking lightly over it, a shudder of ecstasy rippling through his body before he regained enough of his senses to force himself to pull away.

The sound ripped from his throat definitely one of pain then even as the lump of despair that formed in it threatened to choke him.

Sam saw the confusion cross Dean’s face over what Sam was doing, what Sam was checking. When Dean’s gaze all but snapped to his bleeding wrist, Sam felt his heart fall into his stomach. No! Dean had fought so hard, gone through so much! And Sam let him change, let his soul be damned instead of killing him as he should have, as he would have, if Dean hadn’t been his bloodmate.

Now he would have to kill him. Draw the machete from its sheath, arc it through the air, and watch as the man he loved fell at his hand, even if Dean begged Sam not to kill him. He promised Dean he would no matter what Dean asked if Dean changed. The human Dean had been didn’t ever want to risk hurting someone, didn’t want to be reduced to feeding off other people, to drinking blood. The mindset of a vampire was different, the taste of blood no longer vile, the thought of drinking blood no longer heinous, though that concept often took a few days to settle in. It took even longer for most to lose their humanity. Maybe if when Dean died he still had his humanity, hadn’t ever killed in need of blood, maybe God would still let him in to heaven. Maybe he wouldn’t be damned. Sam would pray for Dean, pray God showed Dean pity and forgive him for what was Sam’s sin, not his.

Dean strained forward and Sam braced himself for Dean to expose his new vampire teeth, to bite down on his wrist, and to drink as deeply and as long as Sam would permit. And Sam would permit him as much as he could possibly afford without risking his own bloodlust. He hated the idea of killing Dean in chains, but if he released Dean and Dean escaped, well, he just couldn't take that chance. Once Dean was dead, he would make the call to Bobby, then call Lenore and connect Lenore and Jacob up. Should he ask Bobby to kill him? Would that be wrong? He had failed Dean, it seemed only right Dean's friend be the one to kill him. His one true regret beyond failing Dean, was that he had also failed Jessica. He had never avenged her death. If he remembered her once he was in hell, once he became a demon, perhaps he could yet find her killer. If not…she would forgive him for his failure. He knew that. He didn't know if he could go on yet again after the loss of another bloodmate. Right now his heart told him he couldn't. He could, he supposed, go on a killing rampage. Take out any vampire he came across until he finally got careless. And he would get careless because he simply had nothing else, no one else, to go on for. A hundred and sixty six years was long enough for any man to live.

The teeth never came. Instead Dean’s tongue licked up his wrist, following the trail back to the cut. Dean’s hot mouth pressed against his skin, Dean’s tongue caressing and cleaning away the blood; Sam could feel the ripple of pleasure pass through Dean and Sam gave a soft gasp and felt the start of his own reaction, Dean’s scent spiking and sending his heart racing. And then Dean drew away, something like a sob escaping his throat, his head bowed in defeat.

Sam could have cried. Dean was human! Or anti-vampire, or whatever, but not vampire. Sam shushed the small voice that pointed out Dean reacted like a vampire bloodmate rather than a human bloodmate. That didn’t matter. Dean wasn’t interested in him. Not really. But he hadn't failed Dean! Dean was not damned! He couldn't help himself and pulled Dean into a hug, relieved.

“Jacob, Dean’s okay! Bring the key and some coffee!” Sam called out. He released Dean from the hug and grinned almost foolishly, squeezing Dean’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re human! If you were vampire you would be latched onto my wrist so tightly I would need a crowbar to get you off. A crowbar to use upside your head. If you don’t believe me, check for fangs. I know you don’t have them. You would have used them by now,” Sam reassured him. “Newly turned vampires are ravenous, bloodlusting. You’re not. You’re fine.”

Crap, how was he going to explain Dean's reaction to his cut? Something convincing. This was not the time for the truth, not yet. "Don't think just because you wanted my blood, that you're a vampire, Dean. It's just…it's apparently a side effect of the cure. Jacob's got the same issue. It's only my blood, okay? Maybe because I let you have my blood those two times. I thought maybe it was just Jacob, but I guess…hell, maybe it's because his blood saved you. I don't know. But you're human Dean. You're still human."

Dean let out a surprised squawk when he suddenly found himself enveloped in a strong hug by the big badass hunter Sam Cristo. If that wasn’t fucking shocking enough to make him think he’d fallen right into the Twilight Zone, he could only stare at the other man in open mouthed shock hearing the words Sam had shouted to Jacob with all the jubilation of having just won the fucking lottery or something.

Okay? Okay! He wasn’t fucking ok! He’d just licked up blood for fucks sake! The taste was still on his tongue, and it had felt so good, tasted so good, if he’d kept licking and sucking on Sam’s wrist he might have been able to get hard and come just from that alone and even as horrified as he was by the concept he still wanted more of it.

What the fuck was human about that?!

Hopeless tears of anger and confusion danced in Dean’s eyes as he stared at the other hunter as though Sam had completely lost his fucking mind. As the other man “reassured” him he was still human. No, he didn’t believe Sam. He didn’t know if Sam was just fucking with his head or if he really had completely snapped or something, yet Dean was almost deathly afraid of “proving” it by checking himself for fangs. He didn’t want to. Didn’t want that last, little, shred of hope torn away from him, and yet at the same time he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help running his tongue over the front of his gums where he knew the fangs would retract to until he “needed” them…

He didn’t feel anything. Not a damn thing, no matter how much he poked and prodded with his tongue, probably looking like a complete idiot since he couldn’t exactly use his hands at the moment, but he couldn’t feel a damned thing out of the ordinary. Dean looked at Sam, disbelief warring with hope as Sam continued.

Side effect? He was really… not a vampire? Just a side effect? Side effects, Dean could deal with. Side effects were a hell of a lot better than… He listened as Sam said it over and over. As though repeating it, practically hammering it through his skull, would finally make it stick, and finally it did.

“Oh, fuck… Jesus Christ…” Dean gasped, the panicked knot in his chest finally loosening, letting him breathe again, and the young man sucked grateful lungs of air into his chest like he couldn’t get enough. He felt light headed and weak, he all but collapsed back against Sam’s chest. He was shaking, and he felt tears splashing down his cheeks that he couldn’t stop and he didn’t even care. He was still human. He wasn’t a vampire. After everything… all the pain, fear, hopelessness, sheer panic, the fever, nearly dying how many times, nearly killing himself, EVERYTHING… he was still human.

“Thank you… oh fuck… thank you…” He whispered breathlessly over and over and he didn’t know if his words were more to god or the man behind him who refused to give up on him.

Sam could see when it finally sank in, when Dean finally accepted it. The deep draw of breath, the scared, relieved words. Sam smiled proudly when Dean collapsed against him. He and Jacob had done it. They had saved Dean. He honestly had never heard of saving someone from vampirism. It had been a crazy long shot at best and Sam knew it. But they now knew it was possible. With the mutated virus, people who had not yet turned but were infected didn't have to be killed. There was no guarantee of course, and Sam had no idea how to make the dormant virus active. Jacob had already been craving his blood, so it had already started…Sam locked down those dizzying thoughts. That could wait for another day. Right here, right now, he held a weeping hunter in his arm, possibly the first ever to be saved in this way. He would savor the victory. He chuckled softly and hugged Dean more gently this time.

He grinned at Jacob when Jacob came in with the coffee and the key to the shackles, and Jacob's grin was as big as his own.

Jacob set the two mugs of black coffee on the bedside table then released the shackles from Dean's wrists. "You're lucky to have a man like Sam care so much for you, son."

Sam's eyes widened at Jacob's words. He didn't want Dean to feel indebted to him, and certainly didn't want Dean to know just how deeply his feelings ran for the young hunter. Before Dean left he would have to tell him that he would periodically need his blood, but that was all. Just more of the side effects, he would assure Dean and hope Dean bought it without asking too many questions. He saved Dean simply because Dean was a fellow hunter. That's all Dean needed to believe.

"Why don't you throw some steaks on the grill, Jacob," Sam gritted out. "Dean's got to be starved for real food."

Jacob laughed at the consternation in Sam's face. He so loved to annoy his old friend. But by the same token, if Sam wasn't going to tell Dean he loved him, Jacob would do his best to let Dean know. At least Dean could make an informed decision as to whether or not to leave Sam. Maybe Dean wouldn't, maybe Dean would stay. Maybe Sam was wrong. He hoped so. His friend deserved some happiness like Dean could offer. Sam hadn't really been the same since Jessica had died.

"Sure thing, Sammy. Steak and eggs and hash browns make for a good breakfast. And you two can get a shower and into some fresh clothes while it's cooking." Jacob leaned outside the door and produced Sam's suitcase and Dean's duffel and set them by the bathroom. "No coming out until you're both dressed and smell decent."

Hearing the old man enter the room, Dean opened his eyes. By then he had regained enough of his senses to feel the slightest bit embarrassed by his emotional outburst. Weeping in another man’s arms like some kind of chick… yeah, pretty fucking embarrassing.

Though the overwhelming relief he felt pretty much still overpowered that he still tried to pull himself together quickly. Straightening a little from his collapsed position against Sam as he became aware of his very nude state, and wiped at the tears on his face as discretely as possible, ducking his head once his wrists were released from the chains. But despite all of that it wasn’t until Jacob’s words that the bright flush of color stained the young man’s cheeks.

Self conscious didn’t really begin to cover it. He had absolutely no idea how to react to such a statement. There was that word again. Lucky. Only this time it wasn’t being used to describe how he’d managed to evade death at the hands of the vampires, that Sam had made him out as a hunter and not killed him right away, or that he’d managed against all odds not to turn into a fucking monster that sucked blood from innocent people.

Lucky… yeah… he guessed he was lucky that Sam had cared enough not to kill him in the nest, not to take off his head when Dean had asked him to, had done everything in his power to keep him from turning. Dean wasn’t completely dense, and knew Jacob was implying more than that, but Dean really, really, couldn’t deal with that right now on top of everything else.

He was actually relieved by Sam’s rather annoyed tone when he spoke to Jacob. Of course it was bullshit. Sam didn’t really… care for him. Sure he’d went above and beyond the call of duty, maybe not many hunters would have done the same even for their own, but Dean wasn’t going to complain. And even if Sam had made it quite clear he wanted to fuck him, had sucked him off and… wanting to fuck him was one thing, and besides, Sam didn’t know anything about him. They were little better than strangers… No, it was WAY more than Dean could handle right now. He felt completely raw and flayed open already. He didn’t need his guts completely torn out and turned inside out on top of it.

“You want the first shower?” Dean asked, clearing his throat and rubbing his wrist that was a little raw, obviously from having fought against the chains at some point.

Sam could feel the tension try to creep back into Dean and he released him from the protective, comforting hold with an internal sigh. Probably the last time he would get to hold him. He saw Dean discreetly pull at the blanket to cover himself a little bit, saw him wipe at his tears, many of which had already soaked Sam’s t-shirt. Dean’s blush…he was so damned cute Sam wanted to pull Dean back into his arms and kiss him so deeply…and that wasn’t going to happen.

He could see, hell, he could smell Dean’s confusion and inner turmoil. Damn Jacob for pulling that stunt. He did not need Jacob playing match maker. Just because they were each other’s bloodmates didn’t begin to guarantee they would even like each other as people. The sex would be unbelievable, but beyond that? Dean still had a tape deck in his car for god’s sake. Sam hadn’t heard anything in that car that was later than 80’s music unless they were listening to the radio, which Dean turned to classic rock if there was a station around that played it. Sam was a neat freak, and freely admitted it. Dean was anything but. Dean was stubborn, young, probably prone to making mistakes, or least thought he made mistakes…no, it wasn’t meant to be. Saving Dean was going to have to be enough. Besides, for the really awesome sex, they would need to share blood, and Dean was going to come to the conclusion pretty darn fast that Sam was a vampire. Being that he was a hunter, that was going to go over like a lead balloon. He’d most definitely feel betrayed and used and furious that Sam hadn't told him about the whole pheromone-like effect bloodmates had on each other. All in all, Dean would probably want to put a machete to Sam’s throat and Sam wouldn’t blame him.

The whole bloodmate thing…hell, it was almost like date rape or something if the partner didn't know. All Sam really had to do was get some blood down Dean's throat and odds were good he could have Dean anyway he wanted him. And that was not what Sam wanted at all. He still wasn't sure what he was going to say when Dean brought up their sexcapades at the motel. Maybe Dean just wanted to forget it ever happened. Sam really wasn't sure how he would explain him drinking Dean's blood without risk of infection. Yeah. Probably best if Dean didn't ask because that just brought up too many awkward questions.

“Considering since I’ve known you, you haven’t been in any shape to shower on your own, what say you take the first shower? You're hardly recovered from the fever, haven't eaten a decent meal in a couple days, were half starved before that, and if you manage to walk to the bathroom and get a shower on your own, I'll give you a round of applause and the last twenty dollars in my wallet. Besides, if you aren't up to it, I won’t have to get wet twice.” He took the bite out of his words with a smirk. “Just leave me some hot water, huh? And Dean, seriously, don’t be stupid. If you need help, just say so. I don’t want another repeat of the hotel room where you fell getting in the shower. We just got you fixed. You don’t need a concussion or something that puts you back in bed for a week. Even I have my limits of playing nursemaid for wayward hunters.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose a bit in spite of himself at Sam’s reply, and he wasn’t even sure why. It was the same slightly snarky, slightly sarcastic, matter of fact, tone that Sam had used with him when they’d first met, before all of this… drama… had happened. It shouldn’t have surprised him to hear it again now that it was all over, and yet it did, and it was just… wrong… somehow, and Dean didn’t know why.

I’m a fucking idiot, that’s why. Dean thought angrily to himself.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Dean muttered flatly as he pushed himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side. He stayed there for a moment, trying to gauge his own strength, how steady he was, and if he really would need help getting to the bathroom and taking a shower or not.

At the moment he really fucking hoped not, he felt awkward enough. Though modesty was pretty much a moot point by now, he still felt uncomfortable dropping the sheet that had been wrapped around his waist as he pushed himself to his feet. Swaying unsteadily for a moment, but with the wall for support he managed to make his way slowly to the bathroom. Hell, if he’d managed to make it there to kill himself he could make it there for a fucking shower, Dean thought bitterly.

When he reached the door jam, he almost turned and told the other hunter he owed him twenty bucks, but he really just didn’t have the heart for any wise cracks right now. He felt drained, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“I’m fine.” He said instead. Sighing a little when he realized there wasn’t any door to shut for privacy, but again, what was the point now, and what was a little more discomfort? He was such a fucking idiot. He should have felt relieved. Sam’s words pretty much confirming that Jacob had just been messing around or something. He should have been relieved, but he didn’t feel anything close to that right now.

He was just tired. Really fucking tired. Almost dying more times in a week than he wanted to count and almost turning into a vampire would do it. Was there really any wonder he wasn’t thinking too clearly right now?

But Sam was right. He didn’t need the other man playing nursemaid to him anymore. Sam had done his part, more than his part. He wasn’t going to inconvenience him anymore. Dean could take care of himself now, damn it. He didn’t need anyone looking after him, hell, didn’t even want anyone to. He did fine on his own and that was the way it was going to stay.

He was a “big boy”, he could take a shower by himself, god damn it.

Dean got the shower turned on and adjusted to the temperature he wanted, even managed to get in without breaking his neck in the process. Maybe making him feel like a fucking old man how carefully and slowly he was moving, but he managed it. Though once he pulled the curtain closed he leaned back against the shower wall, exhausted, and slowly slid to the floor. Well, at least this way he wouldn’t fall… Dean thought with a sigh as he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

Sam saw the effect his words had on Dean. He hadn't meant to sound so flippant but the words just came out wrong. Always wrong when it came to Dean. He was such an idiot and a fuckup where Dean was involved.

Dean's muttered words practically cut into Sam physically and Sam flinched. He started to reach out to Dean but stopped himself. Dean had to stand on his own, he couldn't be there for him. He shouldn't be there for him. Btu he wanted to be. It pained him to see Dean get unsteadily to his feet and work his way slowly into the bathroom. It took all Sam's will power not to rush to Dean's side, not to offer him a steadying arm. When Dean paused at the doorframe, Sam expected Dean to say something but his quiet affirmation that he was fine was a bald-faced lie as far as Sam was concerned. He ground his teeth, forcing himself to stay where he was. He watched as Dean adjusted the water and painfully, slowly, climbed into the tub. Once Dean pulled the shower curtain closed, Jacob stalked over to Sam.

"Are you just fucking trying to chase him away, Samuel?" Jacob demanded.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam snapped. "Tell him I love him? We're strangers. Yeah, I saved his life, yeah I…fell for him, but that's not Dean's problem. That's mine."

"You can at least get your ass in there and see if he needs help. I swear Sam, sometimes you are such an idiot you'd think you were ten years old ready to punch a girl in the arm because you don't know how to tell her you like her."

"God dammit, I don't need you playing match-maker!" Sam seethed. He didn't know who he was more angry at, Jacob or himself. He was pushing Dean away. He didn't want to. He didn't mean to, but maybe a part of him did want just that. If Dean left, it gave him an excuse to say he was done and just give up. A part of him really wanted to simply give up.

"The hell you don't!" Jacob threw back before stomping out of the room heading to get breakfast started.

Sam glared knives into the retreating back of his friend. But if nothing else, Jacob was right about Dean needing help. Dean was weak, he was in no condition to be in there by himself. Sam should have just gotten up and helped Dean into the bathroom instead of being a smart ass. Jessica wouldn't have put up with that shit, but Dean had just gone through a week of hell. He had to be tired and confused, and if he was reacting to Sam's blood, he would react to Sam's scent, to Sam's mere presence, and that had to be one more complicating confusing factor for the young man.

Asshole. Sam was an asshole.

Sam forced himself to get off of the bed, gratefully stretching his muscles. He had been sitting in one position far too long. After he got some feeling back in his legs and stretched out his back, he pulled off his shirt and walked into the steamy bathroom.

"Dean?" Sam said softly as he stepped up next to the curtain, "I'm sorry. I'm being a dick. Let me help you. I know you have to be beat and sore as hell. I'd…like to help you, if you'll let me. Please?" His words were just shy of begging.

Dean sat on the floor of the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his head and shoulders, running down his body. He knew he should at least try to get cleaned up. Shampoo, soap, stuff like that instead of sitting here pouting. Out of the blue he recalled Sam’s instructions to leave him some hot water and snorted softly. Wondering how exactly he was going to manage that when just the thought of moving right now exhausted him. Maybe he would just sit here for a while and stumble back to bed when he was done, before he could fall asleep in the shower. Even breakfast, as good as it had sounded before, was starting to sound just too much of an effort to manage right now… maybe he would just fall asleep right here…

He hadn’t been sitting there for more than a few seconds however when he heard Jacob’s rather angry words to Sam. Dean wasn’t sure which surprised him more, the words themselves or the fact that he had heard them so… clearly. Something in his brain told him that Jacob hadn’t yelled them or anything, and between the distance and the running water in the shower they should have been at the very least pretty muffled.

Sam’s reply however made him pretty much forget about the sudden improvement in his hearing, his eyes snapping open and he sat up so quickly he accidentally knocked his head back against the tile. Even in between his muffled curse and rubbing the back of his head the words kept repeating over and over in his head. Tell him I love him? Love him? He loves… him? No, he was just saying it in some sarcastic kind of way. Sam didn’t love him, he was right, they were fucking strangers nothing more…

Yeah I… fell for him…

Dean was really glad he was sitting down right now. He did his best to block out the rest of what the two men in the other room were saying. He’d already heard too damn much he wasn’t supposed to hear, and didn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with. Sam wanting to… fuck him… ok, he could deal with that. Well, maybe not exactly deal with it, but he could understand it. Sam… falling… for him… that was… complicated, and Dean had pretty well established he didn’t do complicated. How the hell was he supposed to deal with that? How?

He was so caught up with his own inner thoughts running around in circles he was startled when he heard Sam’s voice again, this time right outside the shower curtain and Dean jerked and smacked his head against the tile again in the exact same spot. A string of rather colorful curses escaping his mouth as he rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

Sam heard the crack against the tile and the curses coming from Dean. There was no doubt in Sam's mind Dean's was on the floor. He threw open the curtain, his face a portrait of deep concern.

"Dammit Dean, stop being so fucking stubborn. I told you to ask for help if you needed it." He looked at Dean sitting with his back against the wall. Dean hadn't fallen, but he wasn't strong enough to stand. Asshole, asshole, asshole, Sam berated himself. Sam looked down at his sweats. He wanted to pull them off, but Dean would think…no best he leave them on. He would take off his socks though. After pulling off his socks he stepped into the shower, wincing as the water ran down his back and soaked into this sweats. That was just freaking uncomfortable. He soaped up the rag and began to wash Dean's arms and chest and was suddenly rather glad he had left his sweats on. When he had been worried about Dean, any interest in Dean sexually was displaced because of his worry. But now he was kneeling in front of Dean, Dean's dick clearly visible, his muscled abs and chest and … crap, just crap. Sam ground his teeth. He saw Dean was about to protest Sam washing him.

"Not a word, Dean. You're too tired to do this yourself because you were too stubborn to ask for help. Yeah, I was being an asshole, so we're both at fault here."

Sam felt the sting of the soap get into the wound on his wrist and he rinsed it free of the soap. It had begun to bleed again between the hot water and Sam's increased heartbeat at seeing Dean's water slicked skin and feeling his muscle beneath the rag. He washed Dean's legs then returned to Dean's chest and moved up to his neck and shoulders. He would need to get Dean to lean forward so he could at least get his upper back. Then it would probably be easiest on both of them to get Dean on all fours so he could wash the backside of Dean. The thought of Dean on all fours in front of him sent a burst of blood to his already stiffening cock.

Dean gave an abrupt indignant squawk when the shower curtain was abruptly tugged aside, but instead of accusing the other man of being a peeping tom and yelling at him to get out, he found himself rather mute and frozen in place. He didn’t know if it was because Sam was standing there with his shirt off only in a pair of sweats that was hanging too low on his hips to begin with, or because of the “discussion” he’d overheard between the two men but he was rendered quite speechless. Something Dean usually couldn’t be accused of.

His paralysis was broken when Sam suddenly got in the shower with him however, the other man’s words suddenly penetrating his rather numb feeling brain and Dean’s eyebrows narrowed a little bit. Him stubborn? HIM stubborn? Of all the fucking balls…

Before he could say a damn thing to that, however, it began to click just how close they both were, how wet they both were, and how naked… or near naked… they both were. Talk about awkward… especially given his newfound knowledge. The color staining Dean’s cheeks had nothing to do with the heat of the water, but more to do with the waterlogged sweatpants he was staring at that was sticking to Sam’s legs and hips like a second skin, and as they grew soaked and heavy threatening to fall down his thighs completely.

What the fuck? He hadn’t felt like… this… for another guy in years. Ok, so he’d let Sam suck him off back at the hotel… and just look how that turned out afterwards! This was fucking insane! Sam’s words before just made it even more insane.

When Sam reached for him with the soapy rag, Dean’s eyes widened and he instinctively tried to pull back, not that it did much since his back was already firmly against the tiled wall. He opened his mouth to protest, this wasn’t a good idea on so many levels, but Sam’s words made him shut his mouth again with an audible click. Another frown marring his face and he didn’t know if it was because of what Sam had said, admitting he’d been an asshole, or because Dean had obeyed him.

What he couldn’t deny was how Sam’s hand, even separated by the soapy cloth, made his heart rate jump. How he couldn’t stop staring at the other man. The water drizzling down his muscles and how dry his mouth had become imagining himself following their path with his tongue. How his eyes had flickered to Sam’s wrist, Sam’s bleeding wrist, when the other man moved to wash his neck and… dear god… he couldn’t even describe it. How the smell of the blood made blood rush to his cock, made his breathing grow heavier. Dean’s lips parted, his tongue flicking out as though he remembered the taste of Sam’s blood.

He tore his eyes away from Sam’s wrist, but found himself staring straight into Sam’s eyes instead. His own eyes wide and not a little frightened at the powerful feelings running through his veins.

Sam gently ran the soapy rag over Dean's collar bones and his shoulders. Even in the shower Dean's scent was strong and seemed to be growing stronger. Dean's heart was racing, the sound of that human heartbeat pounding in his ears and Sam was certain he was once again screwing up and upsetting Dean, but he honestly didn't know what else to do. Dean was already wet and in the shower, after all.

Once he had Dean washed and rinsed and out of the shower, he would eat breakfast with Jacob and Dean and then suggest Dean call his friend Bobby. Odds were good that Bobby was probably only a few hours out, he supposed. They had been at Jacob's a couple days at this point after all, and Bobby had certainly proven himself a capable hunter.

Sam would need to get Jacob set up with Lenore and ultimately Dean. Maybe it was the coward's way out, but he would ask Jacob to tell Dean he would need vampire blood every couple years and that Lenore or someone in her nest would provide it for him. Of course that would be after Jacob dropped Sam off a few towns over so he could rent a car and drive back to his own vehicle at the hotel where this whole mess started.

He would hunt down the bitch vampire that had tried to turn Dean. If he didn't, their paths might well cross again and Dean would be in danger. Vampires tended to have long memories and hold grudges. With her dead, Dean would never have to worry about her coming back after him, and after that was done…Sam would wait at the nest, kidnap a few more people, letting any hunter know the vampires were still there and active. He wouldn't hurt the kidnapped victims though he might as well feed on them and give them a good scare. A hunter or hunters would show, he would be an evil demon spawn vampire, and they would finish him off. Simple. Dean would be safe and Sam would finally be dead. He would finally be free of that decision he made those long years ago. He would join Michael and Stasi in Hell. But Jessica's words whispered to him across the void. He might try asking for God's forgiveness. Maybe God would…nah, probably not, but he'd ask anyhow. He certainly didn't have anything to lose. Maybe, even though he was a half demon, he had done enough good in his many years that God might consider him redeemable. And then he could see Jessica and Elizabeth, and many many friends he had lost through the long years.

Dammit, his wrist was stinging and bleeding pretty good at this point. He hadn't thought he'd cut it that deeply, but since injuries healed so quickly for him, sometimes he was careless.

It was time to tell Dean he was going to help the young hunter onto all fours so he could finish washing him off. He'd get Dean's hair washed and then get Dean out of the shower so he could strip off these damned soaking wet clingy sweats and finish his own shower. There was no doubt at this point he was going to have to jack off. He saw the flush of Dean's skin--dammit the kid was blushing again and that just sent another pulse to his already too heavy cock.

Their eyes locked suddenly. He was startled by the wide-eyed, innocent, almost fearful look he saw in Dean's beautiful green eyes, saw Dean lick his lips and the slight tremble that ran through him. The smell of Dean's sudden arousal almost made him groan. Those lips, those plump, kissable lips, that blush, Dean's hardening member…it took absolutely everything in Sam not to lean forward and kiss Dean. His muscles tightened and he shook with the effort of keeping himself under control. He would not let the bloodlust take him this time. He was old enough, dammit, that he could control this, control his heart-pounding desires. He couldn't look away from that beautiful face, and words simply failed him. Clutching the rag, he found himself running the rag back over Dean's chest, cleaning what was already clean. The water trickled over Dean's face, droplets of sprays clinging to his long eyelashes, to his cheeks, to his lips. The rag dropped from his hand and he touched that face gently, feeling the soft silken skin beneath his fingers.

He began to shake his head and he felt the lust fill him. No, he wouldn't do this. It just wasn't fair to Dean or himself. He had to push himself away from Dean or he would…

Dean was going to have to get himself out of the shower because if Sam touched him, tried to help him, he wouldn't let Dean go. He couldn't help breaking eye contact with Dean, letting his gaze rake hungrily over Dean. He wanted to kiss Dean, to touch him, to wrap his hand around Dean's stiffening member, to suck him off, to suck on his balls, to lick his way into Dean's most intimate place, to stretch him, to bury his cock deeply in the young man and beg him to ride him. He wanted to wrap himself in Dean's scent, to taste his blood, to taste everything that was Dean.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Sam whispered hoarsely, pulling back his fingers from Dean's face as if it burned him. He was sorry for everything. Sorry for not killing Dean, sorry for weakening and blowing him, sorry for letting the bloodlust take them both, sorry for falling in love with him, sorry, sorry, sorry. "I—I don't think I can touch you anymore without…without crossing a line." He swallowed back the lump in his throat, the desire in his heart, and the lust pounding in his veins as his cock grew harder by the second. "Unless…unless you want that line crossed, you need to try to get out of the shower. Jacob will help you get dressed."

Dean could see the hunger in the other man’s eyes, the arousal, the need, as plain as day. What scared Dean was that he felt like he was looking into a mirror right now. Everything he was feeling himself only reflected back at him through Sam’s eyes.

He shouldn’t want… but he did. He did so bad it hurt. He wanted to feel Sam’s hands on his skin, leaving fire and pleasure in their wake. He wanted to feel Sam’s lips crushing his own, stealing the breath out of him. He wanted… to touch, to feel those strong muscles shifting under his hands as he clutched the other man to him. He wanted to taste, Sam’s lips, his body, everywhere…

Dean could never remember being so hot over anyone before, especially not another guy, and he couldn’t explain it. Maybe he didn’t want to, and he couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny how the other man’s hands made his flesh tingle with excitement, the wet cloth separating their flesh frustrating him. He couldn’t deny how the way Sam was looking at him made him feel… wanted, complete, cherished… happy…

It was fucked up, so fucking fucked up. Probably the most fucked up thing he had ever done or even thought of doing and he’d done some pretty fucked up shit in his life. At the same time, when Sam’s fingers touched his face, so fucking gently, nothing had ever felt so right.

Dean closed his eyes and groaned softly, fighting the urge to lean into that touch. Telling himself to stop acting like some kind of fucking lovesick girl. He wasn’t… he didn’t… and neither did Sam for that matter. He had to have misheard. He shouldn’t have heard it at all. Maybe he’d fucking hallucinated it. That had to be the only explanation. He’d only been one big pain in the ass for the other man, Sam had said so himself, he didn’t need to play nursemaid to him anymore…

That didn’t really explain why when Sam pulled his hand away Dean found himself leaning forward the slightest amount as though to keep the contact. It didn’t explain why he was so fucking hard and trembling with desire, staring at the other man like Sam meant everything to him when he opened his eyes again. Didn’t explain when Sam told him he should get out if he didn’t want that last line crossed, that Dean didn’t move except to lift his hand, place it against the other man’s neck, and slide up into his wet hair. Didn’t explain when he tugged Sam to him, leaning forward, gave up fighting the need raging inside him he felt more alive than he could remember feeling in years.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Dean whispered before sealing their mouths together with a groan.

After he forced himself to pull his hand from Dean's face, Sam saw Dean lean forward just a little and assumed Dean was going to do as Sam figured he would. As he should. Struggle to rise and get out of the shower. Sam was prepared to back off, give Dean space, give him what dignity he could. Instead, Dean's hand went to Sam's neck and Dean ran his fingers through his hair. Sam froze, moving away the last thought on his mind as he groaned and rolled his head into Dean's touch. The light tug, Dean leaning forward, whispering, almost berating Sam, and then his mouth was captured by Dean's and he moaned almost obscenely into it.

It was too late to explain to Dean, he knew that, but he wanted to. Wanted to try to tell Dean what was happening, but all he could think about was Dean's lips pressed against his. The touch of their lips snapped the thin threads of willpower Sam had been clinging to. He suddenly wrapped his arms around Dean and almost violently pulled Dean up against him as he crushed his mouth to Dean's, as he took advantage of Dean's slightly parted lips and pushed his tongue in, demanding access. Their tongues wrapped and twined and Sam pulled Dean closer still until the only barrier between them was the water on their skin. He ran his hands over Dean's back, tracing out the muscles, moaning into Dean's mouth.

He wanted Dean so badly every fiber in his being hurt for him. But not in the shower. He wanted it done right, he wanted his lover comfortable. Putting his hand on Dean's ass, he stood up, pulling Dean with him. Blindly he reached behind him and shut off the water. Sam bent his knees just enough to get his hands under Dean's thighs and lifted.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," Sam told him, breaking the kiss. He felt Dean do as he asked, feeling Dean's erection press against his stomach. He grabbed Dean's hair and pulled his head back, exposing Dean's throat. Sam ran his tongue along Dean's neck, moaning, licking and tasting and sucking. He paused only long enough to get his bearings, batted the shower curtain aside, and carefully stepped free of the shower. Striding quickly into the other room, hHe laid Dean back onto the bed gently. He tried to straighten but Dean's ankles were firmly locked around his waist and Dean's hands were all over him.

"Let me get my sweats off," Sam begged, his words practically swallowed by Dean when Dean's mouth was back on his.

Dean’s entire body seemed to react to the sound of Sam’s moan, the feel of it practically vibrating through his whole body and the heat of the kiss melting his insides. Dean was usually the more aggressive one in the bedroom, but he allowed Sam to take control of the kiss. Parting his lips and sucking on Sam’s tongue when the other man proceeded to devour him, surrendering himself over to it completely.

He wanted this, god he wanted it, more than anything.

He loved how tightly Sam held him, like the other man never wanted to let him go. He didn’t even care about the slight soreness he’d felt in his weakened muscles, Sam’s hands running over his flesh turned any slight discomfort into pure pleasure. Dean’s hands clutched at the other man just as tightly. Running over hot slick skin and muscle greedily. Twining his fingers into the other man’s soft wet hair.

A pleading whine broke from Dean’s throat when Sam broke their kiss, though somehow he managed to obey the other man’s command even though he was so fucking horny he could barely think. Panting when Sam’s lips feasted on his neck, and rubbing himself wantonly against the other man, pressing his rock hard cock firmly against the slick planes of Sam’s stomach as the other man lifted him into his arms as though he weighed nothing at all.

Fuck, if he thought he couldn’t get any hotter…

The trip back into the bedroom passed in a haze of lust, he couldn’t even force himself to release the other man when he felt his back hit the bed. Keeping his legs locked around Sam’s waist, bucking against him, his fingers tightening in Sam’s hair and pulling the other man down for another deep scorching kiss. He couldn’t get enough. He could never get enough of Sam’s taste. The feel of him. His smell…

He was drowning in the other man and happy to go under.

After a small eternity Sam’s words finally penetrated through the haze of lust that had wrapped around his brain. With a groan Dean dragged his short nails down the length of the other man’s back from his shoulders to his waist, and he finally managed to unlock his legs from around Sam. Sprawled out on the bed beneath the other man, he released Sam’s lips, panting heavily as he stared up at the other man.

“Get them off, now.” Dean whispered, his words half a plea and half a demand.

The press of Dean's hard cock against his stomach, the teasing rub, set Sam on fire. Dean's kiss was electrical and Sam was just about ready to not worry about the sweats. Then again, with Dean's legs wrapped around him, it wouldn't take much to get the head of his cock where he wanted it to be: pressed against Dean's opening, ready to plunge in. Dean raking his back had Sam arching and moaning as he pressed against those nails.

The sudden break of their kiss drew a complaint from Sam until the words sank in and Dean's legs released him. Sam took a moment to stare at the panting flushed face of his lover. He didn't think he could get any harder. He pushed down his sweats and stepped out of them, letting Dean see his hard and ready member before he crawled up Dean's body, licking his way up Dean's stomach, circling Dean's belly button and flicking his tongue in and out, bringing his hand up to wrap around Dean's member to slowly stroke it, then matching strokes with each little flick of his tongue into Dean's belly button. He finally moved on, lapping up the water yet clinging to Dean's skin, the water that was becoming mixed with Dean's sweat. He stopped at Dean's ribs and sucked and bit, soothing the bite with his tongue before sucking and nipping again. He couldn't help himself though he knew he shouldn't, and let enough of his fangs descend so that the next time he bit, he caught just enough of Dean's skin to break it open, to let that delicious blood flow. He fastened his mouth on and sucked hard. The wound was little more than a pinprick, a blood blister that popped, and only small drops of Dean's blood made it into his mouth but it was so good, so damned good. It heightened all his senses, made his entire body thrum in anticipation as he continued to slowly stroke Dean's cock, occasionally running his fingers over Dean's crown to coat them in the precome drizzling freely.

He finally let his mouth move further up, reaching Dean's nipples and working each one hard, loving the reaction and sounds spilling from Dean's lips, those sounds only driving him to work Dean harder. He had Dean pinned beneath him by the time he reached Dean's mouth, releasing Dean's cock, rubbing his own beside Dean's, both of them so needy and desperate.

Sam licked at Dean's mouth teasingly. "I want in you. I want in you so fucking bad," Sam murmured. He reached down and slid his fingers along Dean's crack, stopping at his hole, sliding his finger around and around it, but not pushing in. "I won't if you don't want it. That's okay if you aren't ready for it." He sucked on Dean's lower lip, then bit it and sucked some more. "Tell me what you want lover. Should I suck you off? Do you want in me? Do you want to suck me off? Do you want me in you? Tell me Dean. You can have whatever you want. Just tell me."

Sam’s eyes roaming down his body only made Dean feel hotter if it was possible, feverishly hot, but the heat he felt was definitely nothing like the sickness he’d just suffered from. Barely recovered from. And when Sam finally pushed away that final barrier, allowing Dean to see all of him the powerful surge of arousal that washed through him made him feel dizzy. He’d never seen anyone, anything, more beautiful in his entire life.

Sam was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. His face. The look in Sam’s eyes when he stared at Dean. His body, god his body. Those muscles. His chest, abs, thighs… god his cock… everything, perfect… and his, if he wanted it, all his.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat as Sam’s tongue left fiery path of wetness up his stomach. His fingers tangled in the other man’s hair, his body arching as that talented tongue practically fucked his belly button. A loud unrestrained groan escaping his lips as Sam’s hand curled around his throbbing dick, his hips lifting off the bed, thrusting into the other man’s palm.

“Sam… fuck… Sam…” He moaned his lover’s name over and over as Sam tasted him all over, his breath coming faster, harder, as the other man sucked on his skin so hard he knew it would leave marks. His teeth biting, just enough to sting before that slight pain was replaced once more by that talented soothing tongue. It was heaven, fucking heaven, after the week of hell he’d just been through. It was perfect…

Dean thought he could come just from the feeling of Sam sucking on his nipples. But then Sam released his weeping cock and the young man nearly sobbed before Sam pressed against him, letting him feel his hard length rubbing against him, so fucking hot, and Dean bucked underneath the other man, knowing he was moaning and begging like a whore but he didn’t care.

Sam’s words whispered against his mouth made his body shudder, though Dean didn’t know if it was more with desire or a sudden nervousness, that was almost completely buried a second later by the feeling of Sam’s fingers trailing along sensitive nerves. He wanted, needed, Sam’s touch and he didn’t even care where.

Dean whimpered helplessly. The erotic images that the other man’s words invoked in his mind making him so fucking hot it was a wonder he didn’t just burst into flames. He licked at Sam’s lips. Tugged on the other man’s hair, trying to pull Sam down for another of those amazing kisses, his brain already short circuiting from lust it took him a few moments to realize Sam was resisting him because he was waiting for an answer. Sam actually expected him to talk when he could barely think?

The young man groaned at the sucking on his lip, trying to arch up against the other man’s body and push back on those teasing fingers at the same time.

“Fuck… I don’t care… anything, you want… just touch me…” He finally managed to pant out the words followed by another needy moan.

He felt Dean push against his fingers at his hole, felt Dean try to press against him everywhere. His blood was on fire, practically burning in his veins. He groaned when Dean told him anything, anywhere, and all other possibilities except the thought his dick up Dean's ass left him. Unfortunately he didn't think he could stop touching Dean long enough to find the lube, to do what he wanted without hurting the man he loved.

"Sam," he heard Jacob whisper, "on the bed stand."

Sam forced his eyes away from Dean's perfect face and locked on the lube Jacob had set there. He almost could have cried, but the groan he let out was almost a sob anyway. Bless that man. He reached over and grabbed it, opened it one handed, and doused his fingers in the lube. His fisted his hand, rubbing it, warming the lube while he dragged his body slowly up and down Dean's, recapturing and devouring Dean's mouth with his own.

He moved his thickly lubed fingers down to Dean's hole. He would like nothing better than to lap at that hole, to tease his way in, to push and press at it. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of Dean, to taste him everywhere, but Dean was already tired and they were both so hard and so ready neither of them would last. Long, slow lovemaking would have to wait until another day. He prayed there would be another day.

Sam broke their kiss, panting hard. He ran his finger over the hole, around the tight muscle, rubbing gently.

"If you don't like it, any time you don’t like it, tell me. I'll stop," Sam told him. "You understand Dean? Tell me and I'll stop. I'll do something else that will feel almost as good."

Sam sucked his own lower lip into his mouth and bit down with his fangs, drawing forth blood. He sucked some of his blood into his mouth then fastened his lips back on Dean's, releasing his blood into Dean's mouth. He slowly, gently, pushed one finger inside Dean as the flavor of the blood hit Dean's mouth. Dean had been traumatized and needed as much good reinforcement as possible if he was going to enjoy this like Sam wanted him too.

Dean whimpered almost as though he were in pain when those fingers against his most sensitive places left him. He moaned and clutched at the other man's shoulders desperately. His muscles straining as he rubbed himself harder against Sam. The friction almost painful but he didn't care. He needed the other man's touch on him, everywhere, more than he needed the air he gasped into his lungs.

He whimpered into Sam's mouth when those fingers returned, slick and warm and his legs fell apart wider on their own accord, giving the other man every access to him. Anything he wanted, just as Dean had said, and damn the consequences.

His blood was on fire. His skin felt more sensitive, more alive, than he had ever felt before. Sam's scent was overpowering, he felt like he was drowning and he didn't give a damn. He felt drunk on it. More drunk than he'd ever been on mere alcohol, his brain swimming in a haze of lust so powerful he could think of nothing else.

Did he understand? No, not really. Why the hell would he ever want to stop? He felt like he would die if Sam stopped.

Then Sam was kissing him again, and any thoughts he might have had completely flew out the window. The rich taste on Sam's lips the same he had licked from the other man's wrist and even though he understood what it meant, should have been sickened by it, he didn't care. Just the opposite in fact, Dean groaned in lust, sucking harder on the other man's bloody lip.

He moaned deeply into his lover's mouth as he pushed against the finger sliding into his body, forcing Sam's finger deeper inside him even as his body instinctively tried to resist the penetration.

When Dean's legs fell open, giving him silent permission to continue, Sam's heart leapt. Dean was accepting this and that permission made Sam kiss Dean even more desperately. Dean seemed to know the blood came from Sam's lip and began sucking on it, eliciting a moan from Sam. He knew he was taking advantage of Dean's bloodlust and he just couldn't bring himself to care. He had wanted this for so long, so very long, and who knew what would happen next. Their relationship had been one fucked up rollercoaster and there was no guarantee he would ever get to make love to Dean again. This one time he was going to be selfish and take what he wanted, so long as Dean didn't tell him 'no.'

When Dean thrust against Sam's finger, burying it it deeply inside, Sam felt his cock jump and he knew Dean felt it too. He rubbed harder against Dean.

"So good Dean, you're going to feel so good," Sam murmured not sure if he was talking about how he was going to make Dean feel or how Dean was going to feel to him. He pushed the finger in and out gently, pushing more lube in, groaning at the tightness of Dean's hole at the way Dean thrust against him. He kissed Dean fervently, deeply, and rubbed his leaking cock along side Dean's own. He slid a second finger up near the hole intending to lightly press each time the first one went in, intending to give Dean warning, but a sudden deep thrust by Dean took part of that second finger in Sam pushed in deeper with both fingers, giving Dean what he wanted. He brushed the bundle of nerves of Dean's prostate and smiled as Dean bucked against him, made sounds Sam hadn't heard in so long. He'd heard lovers moan, heard their cries of pleasure, but this was deeper, this echoed in his own soul.

Pushing a third finger in he began to scissor and stretch Dean, Dean's body seemed to resist at first, tightening against it, clenching.

"Relax and I'll be in you Dean," Sam whispered when Dean came up for air, both of them panting and drenched in sweat. He continued to brush that sensitive bundle of nerves inside between each stretch of Dean's tight circular muscle. Sam's other hand roamed Dean's body, running through his hair, over his nipples, his muscles, tracing every line. The desperate touch of Dean's hands on him made him arch and press where ever his lover touched him. He kept their dicks trapped between them rubbing them side by side. He caught Dean's moans in his mouth, swallowed them, and returned to Dean his own sounds of pleasure. He couldn't wait much longer. Getting inside Dean was going to be a torturously slow process, letting the all but virgin man get used to him there, used to his size.

Dean's tight muscle began to relax and Sam stretched him more until he decided he had stretched Dean as much as he could and removed his fingers. Dean's cry was practical agony and Sam felt Dean thrust wantonly, hunting for the feel of Sam. Squeezing some fresh lube onto his hand, he quickly heavily lubed his dick, then he slid lower but kept pressure on Dean's cock. He spread Dean's legs further apart and lined himself up, a needy groan escaping him.

He broke away from their kiss and pushed himself up on his elbow, his other hand continuing to pinch and play with Dean's nipples. "I want in you, I want inside now." He knew he sounded desperate, and he was. The thought of that hot envelope of flesh around him practically making him want to come then and there. "You push me in too fast and it'll hurt you. Let me go slow, give your body a chance to adjust to taking me in. I don't want to hurt you Dean. I'd never hurt you."

He nudged the head of his cock in just a little, but not past that protective ring of muscle, pumping his cock just a little agaisnt it, his weeping cock aching to be wrapped in Dean's velvet insides. He groaned, wanting to bury himself but forcing himself to wait. He grabbed Dean's hips, feeling Dean wanting to simply spear himself on Sam's cock. He pushed in carefully, stretching that tight ring of muscle slowly so he wouldn't tear his precious lover's hole. He pushed until his crown passed the circular tight muscle and shuddered at the feel.

"So damned good Dean, so fucking good," Sam moaned.

The burning stretch of the finger sliding up into his body was both familiar and new at the same time, though he hadn’t felt it in years. Well, aside from when Sam had been sucking his cock the other day and had shoved his fingers up there without his permission. But even as his body pushed greedily back onto that invading finger, his body instinctively clenched to keep it out. The mindless desire flowing through his veins like a firestorm warring with the remembered fear and pain that invasion had caused him.

His body moved of its own will. Knowing what it wanted, what it needed. His hips thrusting up, rubbing his leaking cock against the other man’s belly, feeling Sam throb and pulse against his own stomach, leaving trails of hot semen across his skin. Thrusting down onto the finger, then fingers, that pushed up inside, so fucking deep inside of him. Whimpering and moaning helplessly into Sam’s mouth.

The taste of blood in his mouth... not his own this time but similar enough to spark off flashes of memories, of fevered dreams, behind his closed eyelids. His lips swollen and throbbing from brutal kisses, from where they’d been split open by repeated blows. His wrists raw and bleeding, cold metal biting into the fragile skin, unyielding to his struggles. The heavy smell of sex and cheep whiskey fanning across his face...

Dean bucked and cried out as the fingers inside of him curled and rubbed that place inside of him that made spots of bright light flash behind his eyes. Pleasure running along every nerve ending in his body. His fingernails digging into the strong muscled shoulders, clutching at Sam, his arms free. The scent of soap and musk and clean sweat heavy in his lungs. Sex and pleasure and Sam... just Sam...

His face was shoved into the pillow to muffle his scream as three fingers were shoved deeply inside of him with just enough lubrication to keep him from ripping and bleeding. He could taste tears and bile in the back of his throat. The agonizing burning pain pushing deeper and deeper, feeling like he was being split in two. The hard hand on the back of his neck bruising. The voice in his ear demanding him to relax before twisting inside of him, pulling another ragged scream from his throat.

Dean whimpered, his body clenching and fighting being stretched so wide, even as the thick lube made it easy. Gentle bursts of pleasure continued to make his body tremble even with the burning. The soft voice in his ear warm, asking, not demanding, the hand running over his body, touching him everywhere, practically worshiping. Lips claiming... loving...

His body began to relax and the burn began to recede, he felt full, so damn full and ached, but it was a good ache. It was good. So good. But then those fingers left him, making him feel cold and empty.

“Sam!” He begged, clutching desperately at the other man, whining and thrusting against the other man, rubbing his dick harder against Sam but it wasn’t enough. He still felt empty. He needed... he needed please... Dean opened his eyes and stared up at the other man pleading, barely understanding his words, his muscles moving as easily as water when the other man pushed his legs open further, opening him, baring him completely and he’d never felt so vulnerable and safe at the same time. So much want and need in Sam’s voice, in his face, in his eyes.

Dean felt the hot hard press of his lover’s cock nudging against his opening, teasing him, and he tried to push down on it, a small sound of frustration breaking past his lips when Sam grabbed his hips in a vice like hold preventing him from moving. He felt the burning stretch again as Sam slowly pushed, easing the tight ring of muscle slowly to accept him, and he could have cried when the head of the other man’s shaft finally penetrated him. It hurt... god, it hurt like the last time... His body clenched, trembling. Fear beginning to creep into his eyes warring with desire.

Sam felt Dean's body tighten around him and winced. Sam locked gazes with Dean's beautiful green eyes. He saw the deep desire in them and equally saw the deep fear. He felt the tears come into is eyes. How could anyone have hurt this beautiful soul he held in his arms? Dean's body wanted this, even part of Dean wanted this. The way he had begged and pressed, pleading for Sam to do this. At the same time Sam saw all the terrible memories shadow Dean's too perfect face.

"Lover, I don't have to have this," Sam said thickly, the pain in his voice coming from the depths of his soul, pain that someone had damaged Dean in such a terrible way. He kept Dean pinned so Dean wouldn't thrust against him and hurt himself. "But you don't have to be afraid of me, afraid of this." He ran his hand along Dean's face gently, his thumb brushing over Dean's cheek. He planted feather light kisses on Dean's lips, across his cheeks. "I'd never force you. I want this, but I only want it if you're ready for this. Let me in, Lover. Let me inside you. Let me rest inside you. If you don't like it, I'll pull out and we'll simply make love without it. It's okay, Love. I'll keep you safe. I'll always keep you safe and I would never hurt you."

He ran his hands over Dean gently, continuing his soft loving kisses, resisting the strong urge to plunge further into Dean. His soft words, his soft touches were finally enough and Dean relaxed, but his eyes still reflected his deep fear. Sam eased himself in, just a little at a time, trying to let the burn fade before he pushed in a little further, all the time Sam's body trembling with the agony of waiting.

"Oh, Jesus, Dean, Oh god," Sam murmured, sweat pouring from him. He finally, finally buried himself in Dean as far as possible. His mouth went to Dean's throat, sucking and biting, wanting his lover marked for everyone to see. He simply kept pressed firmly into Dean, wanting Dean to relax around him, wanting the burn to fade, wanting Dean to get use to him.

"I'm inside Dean, all the way inside." It was heaven, having Dean's velvet insides clutching him, wrapped around his hard shaft. He wanted to start the soft gentle rhythm of sliding in and out, of hitting Dean's prostate, of hearing Dean's moans of pleasure. But Dean had to want it too. Okay so maybe the fire in him wanted to plunge hard and deep again and again and kiss him breathless, but his concern for Dean overrode his bloodlust-fueled desire. Protection of his bloodmate overrode everything else.

"I'm going to start to pull out, Dean." He kissed Dean lightly between his words, kissing his throat, his lips, his cheeks. "If you don't want me to stay inside, then you don't have to do anything. I'll pull out and it's okay. Our cocks will press side by side and it'll be good, so very good." He ran his hands along Dean's sides. He captured Dean's hands in his own and wrapped his fingers between Dean's. Bringing one of Dean's hands up to his mouth, he kissed it. "If you want this, really want this, then let me know. But you'll be sore. You'll feel me for a few days…like you probably felt him. It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to tell me 'no.' It's your choice. It's always your choice, Love."

He stared into Dean's eyes, watching for the fear that told him Dean just wasn't ready for this step. Even if this was the only opportunity he was ever given to fuck Dean, he would not traumatize him any further. He knew he could sway Dean by offering Dean a bit more of his blood but he wouldn't.

Sam began to extract himself, forcing himself to continue to pull out when all he wanted to do was thrust back in. He groaned, gasping, it taking everything in him to continue his slow pull out.

Dean’s heart pounded so hard in his chest he half expected it to break free of his ribcage. His breath hitched in his throat, catching with every shaky exhale. He tried to prepare himself for that final hard push that would feel like a two by four was being shoved up his rear end, tearing him apart. He tried to prepare himself so he wouldn’t scream, even though he knew he would. He bit his lip, waiting, trying to force back his tears of helplessness and pain… but the agony he was expecting never came. He looked up into Sam’s face hovering over him, and saw… tears?

Sam didn’t move. Didn’t try to force himself into his resisting body. Sam’s soft whispers were thick with sorrow but also kindness. Understanding. Love…? Dean was afraid. Almost as much of what he saw in Sam’s eyes when the other man looked at him like that, spoke to him like that, as he was of the pain he feared to experience again. He was afraid of Sam’s feelings for him. How could anyone look at him like that? Want him… like that… As much as he wanted it, needed it, he knew he didn’t deserve…

Dean swallowed hard. Sam’s tender kisses and touches, his soft promises easing his mind and relaxing his body in a way he never would have thought possible. Looking up at the other man with a trust that should have scared the hell out of him, Dean nodded faintly when Sam practically begged to push deeper inside of him. Promising to stop, to pull out, if he didn’t like it, a choice he’d never been given before.

Still even with his permission Sam didn’t begin to move again until his body finally began to relax a little around the other man, the burning pain easing slowly now that he wasn’t clenching vice like around Sam’s cock. He felt Sam move deeper, a soft whimper of pain escaping his throat as the burning stretch increased again, but then Sam stopped. Remained still but for the trembling Dean could feel in the other man’s clenched muscles. He could feel the strain, see it in Sam’s eyes, how much it was costing him to keep this achingly slow pace, letting him adjust to every small movement the other man made before continuing.

Dean was panting like he was running a marathon, sweat dripping down his chest and stinging his eyes by the time he felt Sam’s thighs sit flushed up against him. Sam’s coarse pubic hair tickling, his heavy balls resting firmly against his ass, oh god, he couldn’t believe the other man’s thick heavy cock was buried so far inside of him. He swore he could feel it throbbing inside of him in time with his own pulse. He felt stretched to the limit, so damned full, more so than when Sam’s fingers had been inside of him. He didn’t think the burning would ever end but gradually it did, and though it wasn’t exactly comfortable being stretched so wide it wasn’t anything like the agonizing pain he’d felt before.

He felt Sam’s lips against his throat and Dean groaned as his head fell back. His pulse hammered against the other man’s mouth. Sam’s hands were all over him, his lips, soothing and arousing at the same time, and Dean couldn’t not enjoy it. Though the reminder of the man who had hurt him so badly made a shiver pass through him that was definitely not pleasure, when Sam started to pull away, pull out like he’d promised, Dean wrapped his legs tightly around the other man’s hips, keeping him there.

“Don’t stop…” He whispered. Dean licked his lips nervously, looking up at the other man with both longing and pleading. “Make me forget him…”

Sam was so caught up in forcing himself to maintain control that Dean's leg's suddenly wrapped around him startled him and he froze, momentarily unsure of what it meant, until he heard Dean's words.

"You won't remember anyone's touch but mine," Sam said softly, smiling lovingly down at Dean.

Sam eased himself back in Dean, a little faster this time, but still trying to let Dean adjust to the fullness. He rested inside Dean a minute, concentrating on the other side of Dean's neck, distracting Dean from the stretch and burn as his mouth made love to Dean's neck. While still sucking and nipping, he pulled out a little and thrust back in, not too hard, not too sharply. He felt Dean tense.

"Shh, it's okay," Sam soothed, running his tongue in Dean's ear, nibbling on it as he pulled out a little and pushed back in. He ran his tongue along Dean's jaw. He began a very slow and smooth pumping, never hard, never harsh. His tight muscles were going to ache for days from this torture but he swore to himself he would try to keep his promise and Dean would never remember anything but him. He ran his hands everywhere over Dean, his lips kissed everywhere he could reach and still keep up the gentle pace.

"Okay Lover, now you'll forget him. Now it'll only be me. Only ever be me," Sam whispered lovingly. "And you can still say no. Anytime, love. Anytime."

He paused for a moment, his lust filled eyes staring into Dean's. Sam went back to Dean's throat and he let out his fangs just enough to nick Dean's skin, just enough to draw a small amount of blood. The taste hit his senses and he wanted more. He bit a little harder, just enough to get a bit more into his mouth, then he bit the inside of his lip to let the blood, their blood, mix. It was fireworks, it was fire, it was electricity. He fastened his mouth on Dean's, letting Dean share the flame of their combined taste, the fire only bloodmates could experience. The flavor, the sensations, set every nerve in him aflame. He let the bloodlust almost completely take him, holding on just enough to make certain he kept his promise to Dean and to make sure he didn't hurt his lover.

He began to pump harder as he kissed Dean desperately. He crushed his mouth to Dean's, his tongue writhing with his lover's, sucking on Dean's tongue and moaning with every pump. He hit Dean's bundle of nerves with every push in, every pull out. The tight ring of muscle wrapped around his cock making him harder than he had been in years, so hard it was agony.

He slid his hand down to Dean's shaft and began to work Dean. He kept his pace constant while he got Dean's erection as hard as he possibly could. Then he began to increase his pace, pulling all the way out and plunging back in, jacking Dean off, matching his thrusts. Dean pushed back against him, taking him in so deeply Sam thought he was going to die from the ecstasy. He murmured words of encouragement, murmured Dean's name, how beautiful he was, how perfect.

Nothing but the feel of his lover wrapped around him, nothing but the pound of their hearts in unison, their groans, nothing but each other made up Sam's universe. The heat coiled inside him and built. There was nothing that could have stopped him at this point. He plunged in deeply and felt his explosive release inside Dean, shouting Dean's name as his whole body convulsed in orgasm.

Dean swallowed again and nodded slightly to Sam’s words, taking a deep breath and holding it as he felt his lover easing back inside of him slowly. Dean couldn’t stop himself from wincing a little, even though it was a little easier now. His body slowly adjusting to being stretched so damned wide around Sam’s thick cock.

His eyes fluttered closed with a low groan when he felt Sam’s mouth at his neck again, sucking an nipping at his flesh and the sensations seemed to go straight to his cock. His arousal quickly beginning to return, and he would have sworn he’d never been so sensitive around his neck before but he couldn’t deny how fucking good it felt to have Sam’s attention there.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat when Sam pulled out of him again and pushed in a little quicker, partially from nervousness and partially from the pleasure he hadn’t expected that suddenly shot up his spine. Sam’s hands and mouth were everywhere. Dean’s head tilted back even more, his body arching a little and low moans began pouring from his lips with every slow shallow movement Sam made inside of him. His fingers digging a little into the other man’s shoulders, his cock now completely hard again, weeping against his sweat slick stomach.

“Oh fuck… Sam…” Dean whimpered, looking up into the other man’s eyes in almost awe. It was nothing, nothing like before. Sam’s mouth was at his throat again, sucking and biting, the sting, the ache, nothing compared to the pleasure the other man was pulling from his body. He lifted his hips in time with Sam’s thrusts, allowing his lover deeper into his body. He panted, clutching at Sam, and when Sam’s lips found his once more the taste of thick rich copper made him arch and groan in pleasure rather than disgust. Hungrily licking away the taste from Sam’s lips and sucking on his tongue.

Sam began thrusting into him faster, harder, his body accepting the other man easily now and the heat and pleasure building inside him was incredible. He never imagined taking someone into his body could ever bring him pleasure, but that was all he felt now. The most incredible pleasure he’d ever felt in his life, and more than that, he felt complete in a way he’d never dreamed possible.

Dean practically screamed into his lover’s devouring mouth when Sam’s hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pleasure inside of him as well as without making him see stars, almost overwhelming. His legs tightened around Sam’s hips, drawing the other man in deep, pushing back against his cock, increasing the pace himself. It was almost too much and at the same time he never wanted it to end.

Hearing Sam shout his name in climax, feeling the incredible rush of heat inside of him, proved to be too much and before he could believe it his own cock was pulsing in time with Sam’s, his seed spilling hotly over his stomach, slicking his lover’s hand, as he cried out breathlessly. His body arching, pinned beneath his lover's weight and he'd never felt so safe, wanted, or cherished in his life. His muscles tightening around his lover’s cock again and again, practically milking the other man's seed from him, as wave after wave of pleasure threatened to undo him, and he didn't give a damn. He felt like he would never come down from this high of passion and he never wanted to. He wanted to stay there forever, with Sam…

Sam collapsed on Dean, gasping and panting, moaning as Dean pulled everything from him he had to give. He felt the come spill out around his cock, felt Dean's own member pulse in aftershock with his own. He could stay like this forever, locked together with his lover, waves of pleasure washing through him. He finally pulled his come-covered hand free and licked it lazily, moaning at his lover's flavor. He kissed Dean gently, licking his way past his lover's lips and slowly, lovingly, kissed him, letting Dean taste himself. He investigated Dean's mouth slowly and finally broke the kiss.

"Only me," Sam whispered and slowly, carefully pulled out of Dean, feeling his own seed spill out in its wake. He rolled off Dean only to pull him back into his arms. "You're everything I've dreamed of lover, everything I've longed for."

He stared into Dean's face and ran his fingers through Dean's sweat soaked hair. "Stay with me, Dean. Be my partner, my lover, my reason for living another day." With a long passionate kiss, Sam sighed happily, slowly stroking Dean's back, running his finger's over Dean's face, planting light kisses on his lips.

Jacob's voice called out from the kitchen, "If you two are quite through making my house sound like a brothel, shower and come eat breakfast."

Dean grunted softly when the other man’s weight suddenly collapsed fully on top of him. If he had any doubt that Sam was nothing but a solid weight of muscle those doubts were erased in an instant. The other man practically pinning him to the mattress, making it just a little difficult to get all the air into his lungs that he needed. At the same time he was grateful for it, it felt oddly grounding in a way, when everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. Nothing made sense, and he couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was feeling right now.

As the euphoria of lust began to fade the confusion began. Dean couldn’t believe what he’d just done, much less who he’d done it with. He’d been accused of being a man-slut before, his father had certainly never approved of how many waitresses and barmaids he could go through in a week’s time. But he hadn’t done anything like this… at least not since… and even before that he hadn’t felt anything like this… before.

He couldn’t explain it. He simply couldn’t. Letting Sam suck him off back at the motel, and now letting Sam… fuck him. He hadn’t let a man get close to him in years, had even punched a few drunks that had gotten a bit too grabby with him. Some of the guys who’d hit on him, hadn’t been bad looking at all, and there had been plenty, he’d learned early on he had a face and ass that appealed equally to men and women both. But he’d always refused. He’d never wanted to be touched by a guy again after what had happened…

Dean shivered slightly when Sam released his now flaccid cock, looking up at the other man as he watched Sam lick his come off his fingers leisurely and Dean couldn’t deny the spike of desire that shot through him despite how spent and exhausted he was. He accepted the kiss that should have disgusted him, and instead made him moan softly, stroking the other man’s tongue with his own, the taste of his own come in Sam’s mouth an unbelievable turn on. Fuck, everything about this man was an unbelievable turn on.

Dean moaned again a little, this time in discomfort when he felt Sam finally withdraw from him. Ok, that was definitely not pleasant. If how fucking sore he felt wasn’t bad enough, the feeling of the other man’s come leaking out of his ass was disgusting to boot. Though at least he didn’t feel that terrible pain he remembered so well, or that feeling of being violated, used… he didn’t feel dirty or ashamed… When Sam pulled him into his arms he only felt… cherished.

Fuck, there was so much wrong with that he didn’t know where to begin. The way the other man was looking at him, as though he could see down into his soul making him feel uncomfortable as hell. He didn’t deserve anyone looking at him like that, like he was their whole world. This wasn’t some fucking one night stand. What the hell was happening? They didn’t even know each other. This was insane…

Dean closed his eyes, he just couldn’t take Sam looking at him like that anymore. Even as he couldn’t help leaning into the gentle fingers caressing his face and hair. Sam asking him to… The young man felt his heart rate shoot through the roof. Sam couldn’t possibly be serious! Was he insane? Maybe they both fucking were, since he couldn’t help but moan deeply and return the kiss, god, Sam was a great fucking kisser. Or was Dean really that pathetic and needy that he was even considering…

Jacob’s words made Dean start and tense up a little in the other man’s arms, the blush that rushed to his cheeks making him feel like he was coming down with a fever again and Dean groaned in embarrassment as he pressed his forehead against the other man’s chest, hiding his face. Fuck, maybe his brain had melted or something during the fever, at least that would explain something. Why he was acting like some kind of lovesick princess that had just found prince charming. Oh, god he was such an idiot. What the hell was he doing?

Sam saw the confusion in Dean's eyes and sighed inwardly. It really wasn't fair that he had taken advantage of Dean, and Dean was going to be pissed as hell when he found out about the bloodmate thing, but no worse than when he figured out he had sex with a vampire. To be fair, Sam had tried to get him to leave the shower, had tried not to even go into the shower with him. And now he all but blurts out he loves Dean. Asks him to stay with him. Worst of all, Sam meant it. He would put up with the rock and roll blaring from the speakers, with Dean being messy, and anything else. If Dean would just stay with him.

Sam just couldn't help himself. He was as much a slave to the bloodmate situation as Dean was. If they were even in the same room together, there would be electricity between them. That was the cold hard facts of it. And Dean was vampire without being vampire. And that was just too weird to think about. Anti-vampire. Sam liked that apt description.

Sam groaned when Jacob made his tasteless comment and felt Dean's forehead fall against his chest. He could feel the heat of embarrassment coming from Dean and he couldn't help his chuckle. He was really beginning to love the fact Dean blushed easily. Especially now that he could potentially put the moves on Dean and Dean wouldn't freak on him. Hopefully.

"The man has no tact," Sam said and kissed the top of Dean's head, then ran his hand down Dean's hair. "Since we're both a sticky mess, Jacob's right, we need a shower. Since you were tired to begin with and I know you've got to be exhausted now, I don't want any complaints about your dignity. You get a shower and we get you dressed, and you should be up to walking out to the table by yourself, but until then…" Sam planted a deep passionate kiss on Dean as a distraction while he scooped him up, carrying him like a bride over the threshold into the bathroom. He set Dean down carefully, making sure Dean had his legs under him before letting Dean stand on his own and finally letting Dean come up for air. Sam reached in and turned on the shower.

When he turned back around to see Dean leaning against the wall, Sam admired Dean's perfect body, his thoroughly kissed lips, plumped and reddened and bruised. And maybe he had gone just a bit overboard, Sam mused, taking in the rather numerous hickies he had scattered across Dean's body. Well, dammit, he was a vampire. He liked to bite. And he did only break the skin twice. He had been rather well behaved, all things considered.

"God, you're beautiful," Sam murmured and stepped close to Dean, planting a simple kiss on Dean's lips. He stared a moment into Dean's confused green eyes. "Stop thinking so much Dean," Sam teased. "You've put badass Sam Cristo on his knees before you. That is no small feat, lover. No small feat at all." He grinned at Dean then turned from him, reaching in to check the water temperature. It was just right. With a smile, he offered Dean a hand into the shower.

“Dually noted.” Dean mumbled against Sam’s chest, wondering how exactly he was even going to face the old man in the other room without spontaneously combusting from blushing so much. Fuck, he really had to stop doing that too. Dean wasn’t exactly a prude, quite far from it in fact. He’d done some pretty wild things in his time, and enjoyed most of them. There were a few instances he wished he was drunk enough to forget… a little like now… and he could honestly say practically putting on a porno for some ninety-or-something year old guy definitely wasn’t on his list of fun activities. He was almost surprised the guy hadn’t popped in the doorway with popcorn to watch. That was kinda gross actually when he thought about it, and he definitely didn’t want to think about it.

Though Dean couldn’t really deny that it felt kind of nice, ok really nice, just laying here pressed up against Sam, the other man’s hand gently stroking through his hair. He felt if he just closed his eyes he could drift off and sleep for a whole god damned week quite content where he was. Even covered in drying sweat and come, and ok maybe that was beginning to feel more than a little gross too, but at the same time he really didn’t mind.

Dean lifted his head and arched an eyebrow at the other man. Complain about his dignity? What the hell was left of his dignity at this point? Dean wanted to ask but before he could Sam was kissing him and he couldn’t really think beyond wet, heat, and tongue. Groaning softly into the other man’s mouth, too caught up in returning Sam’s kiss despite his confusion to even really think about complaining about being carted around like some kind of chick. Before he knew it he was being set down on his feet in the bathroom, back where this had all started.

Sam had him breathing a little heavily again by the time their lips parted and Dean couldn’t help but stare at the other man in wonder and maybe a little fear. Not really fear of Sam, for some reason it seemed almost impossible to muster that up. It was more like a fear of himself, of the way he was acting, towards Sam, towards everything. Being able to hear Sam and Jacob in the other room, the way he’d reacted towards Sam’s blood… He… didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel like himself. Something was off, he just couldn’t understand it.

Was it more side effects of almost being turned into a vampire? Dean couldn’t help once more checking his gums for any signs of retractable fangs, but he didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. That didn’t mean he felt normal. Sam’s touches, Sam’s kisses, the way his heart lurched in his chest when the other man looked at him and called him… beautiful… The pleased sensation the flowed through him, not to mention the images that flashed through his brain at Sam’s words. Of the other man literally on his knees in front of him, sucking on his cock… fuck, what was wrong with him?

Dean shook his head like he was trying to clear it from a fog but unfortunately his thoughts were crystal clear.

“Stop treating me like a god damn chick.” Dean grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. A part of him wanted to refuse the offered hand, just out of principle, but since the only thing holding him upright right now was the damn wall, he didn’t have much choice. He took the other man’s hand allowing Sam to help him into the bathtub. An involuntarily sigh of pleasure escaping his lips once he was inside, the hot water doing wonders for his aching muscles. He closed his eyes and leaned back, allowing Sam to support most of his weight for the moment. Deciding to take Sam’s advice for a moment and to just stop thinking for a while.

Sam chuckled at Dean's annoyance. When Dean was back on his feet and able to take care of himself, that's when he would stop treating Dean like a girl. He realized suddenly that he had never actually met strong and healthy Dean. The only Dean he knew was the Dean who needed someone to look out for him, to help him. Not that it really mattered to Sam. He honestly preferred a strong partner. He would certainly happily take care of a Dean like the one he had dealt with over the past week, minus the getting knocked on his ass every other day, but he would probably be even more pleased with what he suspected Dean was typically like.

He had to admit having Dean be the aggressor that first time they had sex was as good as this time when he was the dominant partner. He still remembered Dean's teeth digging into his neck and the aggressive, possessive growl. This would be a new experience for him and he wondered how a bloodmate that didn't need blood like a vampire but could drink his blood without danger, would be like. He had always had to be so careful around Elizabeth and Jessica if he ever cut himself because they were drawn to the blood. They had more than one or two close calls. If Dean stayed with him, it wouldn't be a problem. He ignored the fact it was a big if. When Dean's brain had a chance to catch up to the situation and think, when his mind cleared, there would be a lot of questions. So long as Sam wasn't bleeding or vice versa, although there would be the sexual tension, both would be able to think much more clearly and a lot less emotionally. Sam wasn't really sure what he was going to tell Dean, though. How could he explain what a bloodmate was without telling Dean he was a vampire? And was it fair to Dean to try to make the decision to stay or not with Sam without knowing Sam was a vampire. As with Dean being an "anti-vampire", this was new territory. Elizabeth and Jessica both knew what he was before they became permanent partners.

He was pleased Dean took his offered arm to get into the tub. It was more than a little apparent Dean was stubborn as hell. Wrapping his arms around Dean's waist, he smiled as Dean leaned back into him, as the heat rolled over them. It was nice, it was comfortable and Sam was content to just hold Dean against him. After a good five minutes of letting the heat soak through them, Sam nudged Dean, kissing him lightly on the neck, resisting the urge to suck and nuzzle at the already impressive hicky he had given Dean.

"You need to eat before you fall back asleep. You're body needs food." Sam reached out with one hand and grabbed the rag and soap and handed it to Dean. "Either I can support you and you can wash yourself, or we'll end up sitting down in the tub again and I can help you wash up."

***
Bobby spent hours on the cell phone, tracking down anyone who had ever met Cristo, who knew anything there was to know about the man. And he came to the conclusion the man and his family were enigmas. What he had told Dean those long days ago seemed to be about all anyone knew about him, so how much was rumor and conjecture versus the truth was impossible to sort out. Everyone seemed to agree on a few 'facts'. Cristo was a vampire hunter, good at what he did, fearless, a loner, and came from a long line of hunters. From there it got a little vague.

Samuel Cristo appeared on the scene in the mid-fifties. He was apparently the son or the son's son of hunters Elizabeth and Samuel Masters. Why he took the name Cristo instead of Masters was unclear other than it probably being some sort of private joke. But hunters were known for their odd and twisted sensed of humor. Sam Cristo married a Jessica Moore in the early sixties. The story went that Cristo saved her from a vampire's nest and that after a few years, she joined him in hunting. She was a decent hunter, but she wasn't always at his side. That was probably because they had a son, Samuel Cristo Jr, though there was no indication they actually named him junior. In fact, no one seemed to know they even had a son until Junior showed up ten years prior, out for vengeance, going after the vampires who killed his mother and father.

Junior was much harsher a hunter than his father, and there were few instances of any civilians making it out of whatever situations they might be in. Then again, people didn't usually admit to being taken by vampires or facing wendigos or hunted by werewolves without fearing being tossed into the funny farm. Best as Bobby could tell, all his family was hunter shy, and even for hunters kept very much away from other hunters. The only times paths crossed were when a hunter and one of the Cristo clan happened to be working the same case. A surprising side note Bobby learned was that Cristo's family went out of their way to help and protect hunters. That comforted Bobby to know that Dean wasn't with some cold-hearted bastard. The few hunters, all of four that he was able to get a hold of, who had actually met Junior said Cristo was brutal, efficient, and thorough when it came to the job. Off of the job he liked to drink tequila, was generous with his cash, seemed to genuinely care about people, but absolutely, positively did not talk about himself other than in the vaguest terms. One hunter Bobby talked with had been pretty torn up by a black dog and Cristo took care of him and got him back on his feet.

It seemed odd that if he specialized in vampire hunting, he and Elkins paths had never crossed. He also learned Junior apparently swung either way on the booty chart. He was as likely to pick up a man for a one nighter as he was a woman. That bothered Bobby a little. Dean, well, hell, no way around it, Dean was a looker. But Dean had also been…attacked… when he was younger. Dean could get a little violent if a man came on to him to strongly. With Dean being hurt, and being a fine looking young man, and Cristo swinging either way, well, that could be a recipe for disaster once Dean got to feeling better.

Bobby was thankful that Dean refused to leave the Impala behind. If they had taken off in Cristo's Jeep, Bobby wasn't sure he would have been able to track them. The Impala would catch people's eyes more readily than a Jeep would have, and with grit and determination, Bobby had been able to track them into Oklahoma. And damned if he didn't just keep missing them by an hour here or there. It was downright frustrating. But now, the Impala had fallen off the map. He knew, just knew, the car was somewhere in the area and he prayed they had stopped because Dean was getting back on his feet…but he also had to face the fact that enough time had passed and Dean still hadn't called…it was almost a sure bet that Dean had turned. That was the only explanation. Dean turned and his body had probably already been beheaded, salted and burned. But dammit, Cristo could have called him, told him. Maybe Dean told him to wait a few days or something. Maybe Cristo was getting out of town, fearing Bobby might want to take some retribution out on Cristo, which was ridiculous. Wasn't Cristo's fault. He just wanted to know, dammit. He just wanted to know where John's boy was, what hill his ashes had blown from. Where that treasured car of his was. Bobby swore he would take care of that car, pass it on to some up and coming hunter that reminded him of Dean, someone who would appreciate the car the way Dean did.

He just wanted to know.

A small sound of complaint escaped Dean’s throat when the other man nudged him out of the light doze he’d fallen into. He’d been close to drifting off entirely, on his feet, which probably wasn’t a good thing, but he felt tired enough right now that he didn’t really care either. He felt more relaxed right now than he could remember feeling in a long time.

Sam’s arms warm and solid around him, supporting his weight easily, and it felt… good. He’d never felt so comfortable with anyone, not even really a woman. He certainly never imagined he’d feel this comfortable with a man. Standing together, naked, sharing a shower, and touching practically everywhere. Sam’s chest against his back, the back of his thighs rubbing against Sam’s legs when he shifted his weight, hell, he could even feel the other man’s dick, definitely not on the small side even soft, pressing against his lower back, and he didn’t really mind it. A small sound of contentment broke from his lips before he could stop it when he felt the light brush of Sam’s mouth against his neck.

To be honest he would have been happy to just go back to bed once he was clean but he knew that Sam was right, since he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d eaten. So he forced himself to straighten a little, to take back some of his weight, when Sam handed him the washcloth and soap.

“I’ve got it.” He replied, not exactly ready to accept more of Sam’s help just yet, especially when he was still so confused by his own reactions. He soaped up the cloth and started to run it over his skin. Not really having to do a good job since Sam had washed him before. Spending most of his time wiping down his stomach and thighs of his own come that had dried a little there.

He hesitated only a moment before he leaned forward, resting one palm against the tiled wall for support. Trying his hardest not to blush when he pulled away from Sam a little more and began wiping himself gingerly around his sore hole where Sam’s come had leaked from him. Fuck, it was like he could still feel Sam buried inside of him. The other man was right, he’d probably feel him for days.

Sam would have liked nothing better than to soap Dean up, running his hands over slickened skin, but Dean needed to eat and really, Sam could use some honest to God sleep. A little bit of food, his type of food, wouldn't be a bad idea either. Jacob had brought him fresh blood, but really, he wouldn't mind getting it himself. He could wait until Dean went back to sleep though.

Sam held Dean close, making sure Dean didn't have to worry about losing his footing, making sure Dean felt safe. Reluctantly he loosened his hold when Dean leaned forward, bracing against the shower wall. Sam still held him, but gave Dean the space he needed to clean himself. He felt Dean tense as he washed away the come around his ass. Sam felt badly, but really, any virgin was sore after their first time. The mutated vampire virus would hopefully give Dean enhanced healing. He really hoped Dean didn't regret it.

"Let me get your back," Sam said and took the cloth from Dean. He wiped down Dean's back leisurely, momentarily regretting he hadn't put any hickies on that unmarked skin. He would have to remedy that next time.

After he washed Dean's back, Sam took the opportunity to clean his own come and sweat drenched body. He couldn't get his back very well one handed, but it was good enough for now. Odds were Dean would be able to stand on his own the next time he took a shower and Sam would be able to get a proper shower soon, though he would more than willingly share the shower with Dean. Sam put the soapy rag back on the hook and picked up the bottle of shampoo, squirting some in Dean's hair and some in his own.

Sam moaned a soft complaint when they were rinsed free of the last of the soap and knew they should finish up. He turned Dean around to face him. He pulled Dean close and gave him one last kiss, moaning into his lover's mouth.

"God, you taste good," Sam said with a sigh. "Okay, I guess we really ought to get out now."

He helped Dean out, flipped down the toilet lid, and threw a towel across it before helping Dean sit down on it. He gave Dean a thick blue towel and then grabbed one for himself and quickly dried himself off and got dressed.

"Guess I couldn't convince you to eat breakfast nude, huh?" Sam grinned mischievously at him. "Seems such a shame to hide that wonderful body." Even as he said that, he leaned over and picked up Dean's clothes. Dean was able to do most of the work dressing himself, just needing help getting up to finish pulling his pants up.

Sam was pleased Dean seemed steadier on his feet as he helped Dean out toward the kitchen and the wonderful smelling breakfast awaiting them.

When Sam asked him for the rag to wash his back for him, Dean wordlessly handed it over. He couldn’t exactly do it himself and it was probably the one place that Sam hadn’t washed him earlier, besides, somehow it made him feel a little less self conscious to have Sam washing him than to just watch him, seeing everything, while he was doing it himself. How weird was that? No weirder than anything else, Dean supposed.

After Sam finished running the soapy rag up and down his back, maybe a little slower than needed to be, the other man washed himself next. Still holding on to Dean with one hand around his waist while Dean leaned a little against the wall, and every once in a while Dean couldn’t help but cast a glance behind him at Sam. Watching the soapy rag leave enticing trails of bubbles that slid down perfectly sculpted muscles.

Dean swallowed hard. Well, at least he couldn’t exactly complain that the man he’d decided to break his “rule” with was a dog. Far from it in fact. Sam’s body was just about perfect in every way that Dean could see. Then again, he’d thought the same thing about the man who had…

Dean shoved that thought away ruthlessly. He’d been a dumb stupid kid then. That didn’t mean what he’d done now wasn’t also dumb and stupid… but Sam hadn’t hurt him. Not like that. So maybe he wasn’t smarter, just luckier, this time. There was that damn word again. Lucky. Maybe he was, but from his experience most of his luck ended up bad in one way or another.

“Hey, that’s cold damn it.” Dean complained when Sam squirted some of the shampoo onto the top of his head without warning, elbowing the other man in the ribs lightly, before he started soaping up his hair. Not that he really needed it since Sam had done it before, but he supposed he had worked up quite a sweat since then, he thought with an almost blush.

Dean wasn’t really surprised when Sam turned him around once they were finished and kissed him, and he couldn’t really complain about it either. Parting his lips and teasing the other man’s tongue with his own a little, and echoing the other man’s soft sigh of regret once it was over.

Dean was surprised he felt a lot steadier on his feet by the time they were done, though he still accepted Sam’s help for the time being. Sitting down to dry himself off and dress. Though he gave the other man the evil eye when Sam suggested that he eat naked, if only for the eww factor that he’d be eating naked in front of Jacob as well. Even though at the same time he was a little pleased by the “compliment”, if you could even call it that. Dean had heard worse, anyway.

He let Sam help him out to the kitchen only because by now the smells were making his stomach threaten to eat itself if he didn’t get anything else inside of it ASAP. Dean nodded a greeting to Jacob as he sat down, though he mostly avoided the other man’s eyes. He forgot about his earlier embarrassment entirely however, his mouth beginning to water immediately when Jacob proceeded to set down a heaping pile of steak, eggs, and old fashioned hash browns in front of him.

“Thanks, man.” Dean said gratefully, picking up his fork and began all but shoveling the food into his mouth without any hesitation or modesty at all, barely remembering to chew before swallowing.

Sam chuckled at Dean's enthusiasm as he dug into the breakfast. "Don't eat too fast or too much," Sam chided him gently. "You haven't had much to eat over the past handful of days. I'll be back in a few minutes to join you."

Sam walked back to their bedroom and picked up his cell phone, then stepped out the front door. He wasn't sure how good Dean's hearing might be and he wanted to be out of earshot. He punched in Bobby's number.

The phone hadn't much more than rang once and it was answered by a gruff voice. Impatience and frustration edged the man's tone. "Singer."

"Hello, Bobby, it's Sam Cristo. If you're driving, pull off to the side of the road so we can talk a minute."

Bobby gasped into the phone, his stomach clenching and tears springing into his eyes. He all but slammed on his brakes as he did as Cristo recommended. This was it. The news he'd been dreading. "Have you burned him yet?" Bobby asked, his throat closing, the words almost choked by the lump there.

Sam felt sympathy for the man well up. "Bobby, Dean's fine. We weren't sure he was going to pull through this until a few hours ago, but he has, he's human, and he's eating his first real meal in a good couple days."

"I don't understand. What do you mean pull through? Did something else happen? So they didn't feed him blood? He didn't turn?" The words spilled out of Bobby in a rush. His hands were shaking and tears slid down his cheeks. John's boy was alive.

Sam sat down on the porch swing. "Take a deep breath, Bobby. Calm down. I'll explain everything. Dean was fed blood. He was turning but in very rare cases, sometimes someone doesn't turn when they've been fed vampire blood."

"Never heard of that," Bobby said slowly. Could Cristo have let Dean turn and Dean convinced him not to kill him? No, Dean wouldn't accept 'living' as a vampire. That just wasn't the boy he knew.

"My family has been in the business for about 120 years and we've only seen it happen four times. We've never understood it," Sam said, letting the swing move gently under him. "In the past my family tried giving blood from a survivor to someone who was turning and it never worked. One of those people who survived turning, Jacob Sanders, is still alive. I've known him for years now. I always assumed he had some sort of anti-bodies or something that beat out the virus. It was a long shot but I brought Dean here and we tried giving Dean Jacob's blood. It didn't work," Sam said with a sigh and he heard Bobby's breath catch. "But then we began to understand something. Although Jacob is human, he has some vampire like enhancements. He heals faster, he's stronger, apparently is going to live longer than most people, and he has heightened senses, too, hearing, smell, all that. A few years after Jacob survived turning, he got sick, real sick. There was no explanation. Oddly, his vampiric enhancements shot through the roof, as if he was turning, but he had no desire for human blood.

"In all the years of vampire hunting, we've run across a few nests that don't feed on humans to live. Certainly, in part it's self-preservation; you don't kill humans, hunters don't come to kill you. But it is also the preference of not taking a human life. These vampires are called 'vegetarians' by their own kind. One of the 'vegetarians' was available to try and help Jacob, see if maybe he could figure out something no one else had. Since Jacob's senses and everything had blown up to full vampire level, some connection to the vampirism was probable. In what was essentially an accident, the vampire was injured, a cut, and Jacob was drawn to the blood. The vampire let Jacob drink some of his blood. Jacob was cured. Until a few years later, when he need vampire blood again.

"What Jacob and I have now figured out is that he didn't beat the virus, Bobby, it mutated. The mutated virus feeds on the vampire virus, then falls dormant for a few years. When it 'gets hungry,' if vampire blood isn't supplied to it, it begins to attack the body of the host. Jacob's virus was becoming active when we got here. The first blood given to Dean reduced the supply of blood in Jacob and the mutated virus began to get very active. More blood, probably brimming with the newly active virus was given to Dean and after a couple days of a pretty high fever, he's pulled through and has no interest in human blood. Therefore, he's not a vampire. Odds are pretty good though that in a couple years, he will need a few pints of vampire blood. I keep in contact with some of the vegetarian vampires. One of them will provide Dean with the blood he'll need. Nothing more problematic than giving a few pints to the vampire and the vampire in return, gives a few pints back and Dean will be good for another couple years. Transferring the blood through an IV works just fine, so it's not like he'll need to drink it," Sam said.

"So," Bobby said slowly, "he's not a vampire but he is."

"Jacob has taken to calling himself an anti-vampire," Sam said with a small laugh. "It's more like Dean's immunized against vampirism. The mutant virus is predominantly dormant, but enough is apparently active to provide limited but similar benefits that vampires have. He'll have no craving for blood, no bloodlust, no vampire teeth, nothing. Just an occasional booster shot of vampire blood will be needed every couple years. At least Jacob needs it. Dean may not. Dean may not have the vampiric enhancements either. Bottom line, Bobby, we don't know, but Dean is, for all intents and purposes, as human as you."

"How's he handling this?" Bobby asked. He finally felt like he was able to breathe again and the knot in his stomach was easing. So it wasn't the perfect cure, but it sounded like it was something Dean would be able to live with. 'Live' being the most important concept.

"I haven't filled him in yet on all the possible side effects of his cure," Sam said. He'd been toying with how to explain everything to Dean and he was pleased with how it all spilled out for Bobby. Just one thing left to explain. "Like I said, his fever broke a few hours ago. I had to feed him my blood a couple times in getting him to Jacob's and getting him cured, so he has something of an affinity for the taste of my blood, it catches his attention, but that too may fade. Being that you managed to stay on our tail this past week, I would guess you're in Oklahoma, somewhere near O'Donnell?"

"About ten miles east of it," Bobby confirmed.

Sam got to his feet, re-entered the house and headed toward the kitchen. "We're on the west side about fifteen miles out. When you hit town, take the main drag west, and about five miles out is Calder's Creek. Turn right, go another seven miles, and take a left onto Ink Lake. Jacob's is four miles up the road on your right. Twenty-three, twenty-three Ink Lake Road."

He smiled at Dean when he returned to the kitchen. "You want to talk to him?"

"Do you really gotta ask?" Bobby said, a part of him still not believing Dean was okay.

Sam held the phone out to Dean as he sat down to start eating the meal Jacob had cooked. "Bobby wants to say hello."

Dean looked up at Sam’s comment and rolled his eyes so impressively it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his head all together.

“Yes, mother.” He replied, though it was a little garbled since his mouth was currently so full of food his cheeks right now resembled a squirrel packing away nuts for the winter. Though Dean raised an eyebrow when the other man simply walked out of the room rather than sitting down and joining them for breakfast. What was that about? Not that he needed Sam to sit here and hold his hand or something while he ate, and it wasn’t as if he were uncomfortable being left alone with Jacob… ok maybe a little… but…

Dean shook his head and forced his attention back to his food, though he did eat a little bit slower than before. Not because he was taking Sam’s advice or anything. Trying to ignore how acutely he felt the other man’s absence from his side. Dean was almost shocked to realize this was probably the furthest he could remember them being apart for almost a week, well, except for that time when Sam had left him at the hotel and had gone to a bar and…

Dean shook his head again. He wasn’t jealous damn it. He hadn’t been then, and he didn’t care what Sam was off doing now. Hell, for all he knew the man probably remembered he needed to take a dump or something. Sam didn’t need him holding his hand for that any more than Dean wanted to be there. What the hell was taking him so long anyway? Was he constipated or something?

The young man glanced up from his plate when he heard Sam from the hallway, he sounded like he was giving directions to someone. Dean’s face was etched in curiosity, who the hell was Sam talking to? But a moment later he had his answer when Sam walked in with his cell phone and handed it to him. Knowing who was on the other end of the line even before Sam told him who was. He’d heard Bobby’s voice…

Dean felt a momentary flash of guilt as he took the phone from Sam, that he hadn’t thought of calling Bobby himself already before now, though he had been a bit… distracted…

“Hey, Bobby.” Dean said into the phone, ignoring the lump of emotion in his throat as though nothing were out of the ordinary. As though the last time he’d talked to the man, who was the closest thing he had to a father now, it hadn’t almost been for the last time. “Miss me?”

Bobby exhaled, hearing Dean's voice almost enough to be the final break for him. He was really very glad he had followed Cristo's advice and pulled off to the side of the road. Dean was okay. He was really okay and not a vampire, well, mostly not a vampire, and he didn't have to be decapitated and burned and oh Jesus fuck thank God.

And then Bobby felt it all explode inside him. The past several days of worry and concern and certainty that he had sent Dean to this death and then to becoming a vampire and he was so very fucking tired.

"I ought to rip you a brand new asshole! Boy, what the hell were you thinking? Something this serious happens you don't just shut me out. You're my family! You're like my son! You don't go through this alone with a god-damned stranger. Family helps family! No matter what comes of it, family stands by one another. You don't go running off, making me hunt your smart-mouthed ass down! I swear you're not too old to be taken over my knee and get your butt blistered for this idiotic, asinine move you made. I have been going out of my mind. Bad enough that I nearly got you killed sending you after a vampire nest by yourself, and I haul ass to get to you, but then you call me and tell me you don't know if you're going to turn and you shut your phone off? You told me I was welcome to beat your ass when I saw you next and I just might."

Dean winced and pulled the phone away from his ear about a foot as the older man ranted on. Not that he was ignoring the older hunter, in fact, he could hear Bobby quite clearly from that distance. From the looks on Jacob’s and Sam’s faces they could hear Bobby quite clearly too.

The young hunter sighed. Yeah, well, he had promised Bobby that he could beat his ass…

“Yeah, nice to hear your voice too, Bobby.” Dean said, putting the phone back up to his ear when he thought the older man was done, or at least catching his breath.

Dean had the good grace to feel more than a little guilty about what he’d done, scaring the hell out of the older man like he had. But at the same time he knew if he had to do it all over again (oh fucking god he hoped he would never have to) he would still do the same thing.

It was because he cared about Bobby so much that he didn’t want the older man to ever have the responsibility of burying him, much less killing him, and then burying him. Thankfully it hadn’t come to that. Dean glanced back up at Cristo, a small shiver running through him knowing just how close it had come, several times, to just that.

“I’m sorry, Bobby. I really am. I’ll even get you the switch to do it with, if you want.”

Sam clenched his jaw, barely stopping the growl from escaping his throat, warning the old man on the other end of the phone not to talk to Dean like that. Warning him not to touch his Dean.

The foot that thumped into his shin snapped his attention to the source. Jacob. Jacob gave him a dirty look and Sam huffed softly. That older hunter had better not even think of laying a hand on Dean.

Hunter. Good hunter. Damned good hunter. Sam managed to give Dean a reassuring smile before sinking down into the chair and beginning to pull some food onto his plate even though food was really the last thing on his mind. What the hell was he going to do? He knew he probably paled a few shades whiter, but fuck. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. Dean was covered in hickies and Sam needed to eat, and Dean would surely be exhausted enough that soon after Bobby arrived he'd be out cold, leaving Sam and the old hunter alone together. How was the surrogate father going to feel about Sam and Dean apparently making out? Especially seeing as how Dean had just come out of a fever and the hickies were fresh. He'd told the man Dean was still gathering himself. Would the man think Sam had taken advantage of Dean? Well, he sort of had, but he hadn't meant to. How well did the man know vampires? Sam had come across one or two hunters that took one look at him and simply knew. Daniel Elkins was one of them. Sam almost shivered. He had run into that hunter when they were both obviously trailing the same nest. Elkins's gaze had roved over him once, his eyes had narrowed, and he was reaching for the machete on his belt. Sam ran like hell. Ended up with two silver knives in his back and only got away because he took out two tires on Elkins's truck and could run faster than the man. He found out later the hunter's name. What if Bobby Singer was like Daniel Elkins? One look and he knew?

Dammit he didn't want to tell Dean he was a vampire. Dean just didn't need to know. If Bobby identified his true nature and told Dean…it was going to be bad. He had to make an excuse to get out of there soon after Bobby arrived. He closed his eyes briefly. He doubted Bobby was going to turn around and leave after having finally caught up with the young man he obviously cared about. What excuse would get Sam out of Jacob's house for a day or two? And if he did disappear, would Dean leave?

Stay and risk losing his head. Leave and risk losing Dean. Though Dean staying was still pretty iffy anyhow. He studied Dean's beautiful if guilt-ridden face.

Stay. He had to. No matter the risk. If he cold keep Dean with him it was worth it all.

He turned his attention back to the conversation on the phone.

"I'll need more than one switch 'cause I'll probably go through three just trying to beat some sense into you!" Bobby ranted. "Don't you ever, ever pull something like this again or I'll get one of those GPS devices buried in your skin somewhere so I can track you down no matter where you disappear to. And don't you ever shut that phone of yours off again."

Bobby caught his breath, trying to batten down his fright and fury. He adjusted his baseball cap. "I'm probably forty minutes out from where you're at. You damned well better be there when I get there or I really will beat your ass when I catch up to you. And I want to meet this mystery hunter Cristo, too."

Sam could have groaned.

A part of him wanted to laugh at Bobby’s “threat” but he knew better, the older hunter was quite capable of making good on his threat if he felt he needed to. Besides, he really did feel bad about everything he’d put Bobby through. He knew he was going to have to do some serious ass kissing, probably do all the grunt work around Bobby’s junkyard for a while before the older hunter decided to forgive him.

He knew Bobby would forgive him, eventually. The only reason why the older man was this pissed off in the first place was because he cared.

Dean couldn’t help but blanch a little when the older man ordered him not to turn off his phone again, reminding him a little too much of when his own father had all but ripped him a new asshole for that very same reason. Though, admittedly, that had been a whole different scenario.

“Yes, sir.” The answer came automatically to his lips however. Casting his eyes briefly to Sam when the older hunter mentioned him. Sam looked a little pale and worried, which surprised him a little bit, but at the same time he couldn’t really blame the man after Bobby’s little explosion over the phone he’d probably overheard.

Sam looked a little like what Dean imagined a guy meeting his prom date’s crazy father would look like. Dean wasn’t sure he liked that description no matter how accurate it was.

“See you soon, Bobby. We’ll save you some breakfast.” Dean said, hoping the older man would take it as a beginning of a peace offering, before he shut the phone and handed it back to Sam.

“Thanks.” He said, and started back in on his food though without quite as much enthusiasm as before.

Sam dished out some hash browns, a medium well steak (he couldn't stomach rare because he didn't like his 'food' mixed with his food, which just seemed weird), scrambled eggs and toast. Jacob had already poured him a tall glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. He glanced over at Jacob. The man was always so thoughtful, it was a shame they hadn't had chemistry between them.

He really wouldn't mind some of his own food, but Dean would smell the cattle blood on his breath for a good half-hour to hour after he had fed. By the time Dean was asleep, Bobby would be here and that would go over swimmingly. Hang on about fifteen minutes, Mr. Singer, while I go out to the barn and get my dinner from one of the cow's throats. Oh yeah. He could go a few more days before he started eyeing other sources for his food, though he could probably make it a week before he truly needed to feed. Hopefully Bobby wouldn't stay more than this evening. Sam was sure the man was exhausted and it would be too rude to suggest he find sleeping quarters elsewhere, and he knew Jacob would offer him the couch. Which did bring up the point of where Sam was going to sleep. He glanced over at Dean. He knew where he wanted to sleep but he didn't know how Dean would feel about that with his friend here. Sam had already established Dean didn't really have an interest in men, so he might not want Bobby…then again, the hickies from hell made the point kind of moot. And if Dean did kick him out of the bedroom that might only support any suspicion Bobby might develop that Sam took advantage of Dean.

He just wanted to bang his head on the table. When did this get so fucking complicated? A part of him really missed just daydreaming about fucking Dean and curling up innocently with him. That was nice and simple. Sliding his gaze back to Dean, he knew he could never return to that chaste simplicity. He'd touched that sumptuous flesh, held that big thick cock in his hand, in his mouth, and had that beautiful boy wrapped around him.

Sam took the phone back from Dean, unable to stop himself from making sure their hands brushed one another in the exchange. He did feel a little badly that he had apparently brought Dean's mood down, but he didn't think putting off contacting Bobby would be a good thing on multiple levels. Maybe he had over stepped his bounds, but Dean wasn't up to explaining everything to Bobby because he surely didn't understand everything to begin with. With Sam playing middleman, it also gave Bobby a chance to get a hold of himself.

"I thought you would want Bobby contacted and I know you're still kind of gathering yourself from everything. I should have asked if you were ready to talk with him, though. I'm sorry if I was out of line. I figured it was only a matter of time before he found us, and I thought it would be better to call him than have him show up on the doorstep to find you healthy. I figured he would really blow a gasket if that happened.

"So fill me in a little about your friend," Sam said, trying to keep the nervousness from his voice as he cut into the steak. "You told me he pointed you toward the nest in the first place. Does he hunt vampires often?" It suddenly occurred to Sam that Dean had not really been fully with it since they had been together. If Dean hunted vampires, knew a lot about vampires…no, Dean would have probably already guessed Sam was one. Dean still hadn't brought up the hotel when they had sex, when Sam had fed him and likewise drank from him, when Dean had obeyed him and they had growled and made love to each other. He was beginning to suspect Dean didn't remember that, or hadn't remembered that yet at any rate, which suited Sam just fine. He would just as soon Dean didn't recall because that would open one ugly can of worms.

Dean could practically feel Sam’s eyes on him. It didn’t unnerve him like he thought it would, he was rather used to people staring at him, but he still kept his eyes firmly glued to his plate while he ate. Maybe afraid he’d end up staring at the other man in return.

He couldn’t explain his fascination with the other hunter, his… feelings… for the other man. Why him? A man he hardly knew at all, was little better than a stranger to him, no different from any amount of other strangers he’d met, no different from any other hunters he’d met, why was he attracted to Sam? Why did he… trust… the other man enough to let Sam touch him, let Sam fuck him for Christ sake.

It was confusing enough on his part, but then throw in the feelings Sam apparently had for him it was just downright mind boggling. What the hell did he do now? They’d met, they’d fucked, that was usually the extent of his previous ‘relationships’. He’d never wanted anything else before. He didn’t let people get close to him.

Did he want something different now? Was he just suffering from temporary insanity? Would this all go away? He had absolutely no idea…

His fingers still tingled from where they’d briefly brushed the other man’s…

Dean didn’t look up when Sam began to explain his reasons for calling Bobby.

“Its fine, dude. I should have thought of it myself before now.” Dean chuckled softly. “He would have been pissed as hell, that’s for sure. I wish I could say his bark was worse than his bite, but it’s really not.”

Dean finally glanced up when the other hunter asked him to tell him more about Bobby. Dean quirked an eyebrow and grinned.

“I don’t think he’s really your type.” Dean joked then shrugged. “Bobby is Bobby. I think he’s taken out a nest or two in his time. I know he and my dad took a big one out when I was a kid. He was busy hunting a werewolf, or he would have checked this one out himself. Why do you ask?”

To hear that his bite was as bad as his bark really didn't comfort Sam. At all. He was quite glad to hear Dean wasn't pissed at him. He had to start being more …considerate. He just wasn't used to having to ask someone before he just went ahead and did it. Sure he had asked when he was with Jessica. Most times. But ten years on his own, he had slipped back into old habits.

When Dean looked up at him, his green eyes sparkled and Sam's breath seemed caught in his chest. He could drown in those eyes. Ignoring the fact vampires couldn't actually drown, of course. That smile, too. That smile, beaming at him, damned if didn't didn't want to just lean across the table and kiss Dean.

Dean's joked snaped him out of his thoughts. No, Sam didn't figure the old hunter was going to be his type. He hoped he wasn't his type because he didn't want any distractions from Dean. Not like an old hunter could hold a candle the the man sitting the table with him. No one could.

Sam shrugged but felt a small knot of fear release. At least a little. Maybe Bobby wouldn't identify him for what he was. "A lot of reasons. He's a hunter who's managed to track us several hundred miles. That's impressive. I know we didn't leave much in the way of trail. I was also curious if he specialized in any thing, and vampires would be logical since he sent you after a nest." Sam pursed his lips a moment. "And then there's the fact that you and he are obviously close and one look at your neck and it's going to be obvious you and I had some extracurricular activities. He certainly isn't going to blame Jacob for those. I'd like to know a little about the man whose wrath I may end up facing." Sam gave Dean a bit of a nervous smile. "Uh, should I be worried about that? He sounds pretty protective of you."

Dean was caught between wanting to laugh at Sam’s obvious nervousness at the thought of meeting his possibly over protective father figure, and embarrassment at the realization that Bobby would probably take one look at him and know about their “extracurricular activities” as Sam put it. He hadn’t even thought of that, which was just stupid, because he certainly remembered the way Sam had sucked at his neck so hard the feeling had went straight to his cock. Maybe he was more out of it than he realized.

He honestly didn’t know how Bobby was going to react. Bobby was Bobby, after all, and the older man had definitely taken to keeping a close eye on him after his father had died. Treated him like a son. Bobby was the closest thing he had to family, and definitely the best friend he’d ever known.

But Dean was an adult, he could make his own decisions. Who he slept with wasn’t really any of Bobby’s business.

“Dude, I’m not some teenage virgin daughter. I don’t need my virtue protected.” Dean finally said, and he’d tell Bobby he exact same thing if he had an issue with it.

Jacob couldn't stop the soft snort of laughter. "You'll have to forgive Sammy. He's had an encounter with an overprotective father before. Who was, as I recall, unfortunately the sheriff of the town. Beat the hell out of Sam. Course there was, what? Five of them? And you were cuffed?"

Sam glared at Jacob. "You know, I don't need you ruining Dean's image of me. And besides, I didn't want to hurt them. That would have been worse because then I'd have a warrant for assaulting police officers and anything else they decided to tack on for fun."

Jacob gave Dean a wink. "Enough tequila in him and he'll tell you anything you want to know. I've gotten to hear all sorts of stories thanks to tequila."

Sam's glare could have burned a hole through Jacob's chest. He ground out, "Keep it up old man and I won't get you that stripper for your birthday I promised you."

"Pumpkins," Jacob reminded him. "Cahoonas as big as pumpkins."

Rolling his eyes, Sam shook his head. "You need a cold shower."

"After you two made all your noise, yep, probably do."

Sam flushed a little. "God-dammit, Jake, will you behave yourself?"

"Why should I start now?" Jacob said laughing. "Besides, you are way too easy to harass right now. You just walk right into it." Jacob tsked. "Love makes people stupid."

Elbow on table, Sam leaned forward and put his hand on his forehead in a weak effort to hide his increasing blush. He silently swore he was going to throttle Jake at first opportunity.

Chortling, Jacob pushed himself to his feet. "Guess I ought to get the couch made up for your friend," he told Dean. "Hard telling when he last got himself a good night's sleep. And I'll lay out fresh sheets for you two and get some fresh towels put in the bathroom."

Jacob left the room, whistling happily.

Dean’s eyebrows rose a bit as Jacob proceeded to relate the story of Sam’s encounter with an “over protective” father, and Dean certainly didn’t feel any amusement over the story, more like sympathy, or hell, maybe even a little pissed off. God damned asshole cops, if Dean had been there, possible warrants or not, he would have kicked their asses and then some. Dean had certainly never had much respect for the long arm of the law. In their line of work cops and the like were often hindrances rather than help at the best of times. At the worst… well… there was a reason why he used so many fake ID’s.

Though Dean couldn’t help but almost snort orange juice out of his nose at Jacob’s “pumpkins” comment. Hoping his coughing and sputtering was excuse enough for the bright flush on his cheeks when the old man went on to mention once again about all the noise they’d made earlier. Fuck, well, at least glancing at Sam, Dean knew he wasn’t alone in his embarrassment.

Regaining control of himself Dean kept his eyes firmly glued to his plate once more, willing away the blush on his cheeks and poking at his already cold eggs. Damn it. Why did Jacob have to keep saying stuff like that? On one level Dean had to admit he really liked the guy, he felt surprisingly relaxed around him despite the fact he was a virtual stranger, and seemed like the type of guy that Dean wouldn’t mind having a few drinks with during while watching a game, despite his age. On the other hand… well… Dean had enough shit to deal with right now without the old man heaping more confusion and uncertainty onto his shoulders.

“Thanks.” He murmured off handedly when the other man announced he was going to get things ready for Bobby, which Dean really appreciated. Though not quite enough to not wish he could crawl under a rock somewhere to avoid Jacob’s sharp wit and unasked for matchmaking skills that left much to be desired.

When Jacob was gone the silence felt heavy, almost oppressive, and Dean wished he could think of something to say to break it. To find his way back to that easy, almost relaxed, place he’d managed to find between them once he’d stopped thinking so hard about everything but it seemed impossible now. Glancing up at Sam it was impossible to ignore what he’d heard before when he’d been in the shower, the other hunter asking him to… stay with him, knowing how Sam felt about him, and… what the hell was he supposed to do about that? The last thing Dean wanted was to lead the guy on but… he wasn’t ready for this. Not by a long shot. It was just too much…

“I’m gonna go lay down until Bobby gets here.” Dean finally said, pushing himself up from the table, managing back to the bedroom by himself under his own power even though it was a little slow and he was exhausted by the time he got there. Dean flopped down on his stomach on the bed and buried his face into the pillow… the pillow that smelled like Sam and Dean groaned softly, wishing something, anything, would just be simple again.

After all of Jacob's comments, Sam felt awkward. He at least knew why he felt the way he did about Dean. Dean couldn't fathom it and he was certain it had to be horribly confusing to the young man. Added to that was that if they were apart for any length of time, both would keenly feel the other's absence. If they went their separate ways, it would feel like they lost part of themselves. Sam had been prepared to mourn Dean, even if Dean lived. Even in his wildest imaginings he hadn't expected Dean to still be enough vampire to recognize a bloodmate. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do.

He groaned to himself. He had all but proposed to Dean in his after-sex haze. He…meant it, but for Dean, that had to be just one more confusing item on a long list of a helluva a week.

He was trying to find something to say to Dean when Dean announced he was going to go lie down. Sam wanted to offer him aid, but he figured Dean probably needed a little self-sufficiency at this point, and probably a little space from Sam. But he watched Dean intensely, ready to jump to his aid if he began to waver.

Breathing a little sigh of relief, he was glad when Dean made it safely to the bedroom. He glanced at his watch. Bobby may have said forty minutes, but Sam would be shocked if it took the old hunter more than thirty. Bobby was surely anxious to see Dean. That being the case, he decided he had better not risk feeding from a cow. If Dean woke up…well, it was daylight. Dean was probably going to find he would prefer to sleep during the day. Though Jacob didn't so who knew. As he told Bobby, they were really in unknown waters with this.

Deciding he was done eating, Sam emptied his plate into the trash and quickly cleared off the table. He made up a plate for Bobby before putting everything away, and set it so it was easily accessible inside the fridge. He poured himself and Jacob a cup of coffee and as he headed down the hall, he saw Jacob coming out of the guest bedroom.

"Fresh towels in there for you," Jacob said quietly. "Your boy is sound asleep."

"I'm not surprised," Sam said and motioned Jacob toward the front porch after handing him his cup of coffee.

They walked in silence and upon reaching the swing, sat down side by side.

"What am I going to do Jake? I-I basically proposed to him. Asked him to stay with me."

Jacob chuckled softly. "That's one thing I've always loved about you. No beating around the bush."

"It isn't fair to him," Sam said. "It isn't fair that he doesn't know about bloodmates. How can he make a conscious decision when the bloodlust has him like it does?"

"It has you all tied up in knots too," Jacob pointed out.

"But I understand it. I know what will happen if he stays or if he doesn't."

Jacob gave a long suffering sigh. "Whine, whine, whine. How the hell anyone is scared of you is beyond me." Jacob turned a glare on him. "You have two choices. Tell him the truth or let him make an 'uninformed decision' on his own. Well, three. You can tell him what you already have. He's going to like the taste of your blood. That may go away, it may not, and it might affect his judgment with regards to you. That's as close as you're going to get to the truth without flat out telling him the truth. With food and sleep, he's going to start thinking clearer, if he can keep his mind off of you. He's going to realize his senses are heightened, that he heals faster, so you better get that silver tongue ready to explain that away."

Sam returned his glare, mostly out of annoyance because he knew Jacob was right. He was acting like a lovesick puppy. He didn't want to be a hardass to Dean, but he was going to have to sit him down and explain that Dean had vampire traits that probably wouldn't go away. He hoped Dean wouldn't decide that was too close to being a monster. Bobby would be here by then and Bobby should be able to persuade him he wasn't vampire. The zinger was going to be when he told Dean he was going to need vampire blood every couple years. He didn't figure that was going to go over very well either. He had told Dean he was human. And that was not entirely true.

The two men sat in silence. Jacob finally got up to refill their coffee. He hadn't much more than returned to the door with the steaming mugs when a car pulled into the drive and grizzled older man getting out from behind the wheel. The man's steely eyes shifted between the two and came to rest on Sam.

"You Cristo?" Bobby asked.

"Guilty as charged," Sam said, standing up. He felt his heart beat increase, which was probably a good thing. It would help give his pale skin more color.

Bobby climbed the stairs and shook Sam's hand. "Good to meet you finally. Glad Dean didn't leave his car behind or I might not be here right now."

"I thought we did a pretty good job of not leaving a trail."

Bobby nodded. "You did. But where John's boy is concerned, I couldn't just quit. Where is he?"

Jacob smiled at the older man. "Come on in, Bobby. I'm Jake. You can look in on him, I'll get you some breakfast heated up, and get you some coffee."

Jacob hand Sam his refilled mug then led Bobby up the hallway. Pausing at the guest bedroom, he lifted his coffee cup toward the sleeping figure. "There's your wayward boy. Safe as can be."

A sigh of relief escaped Bobby's lips. No matter what Cristo had told him, no matter how Dean had reassured him, he wasn't fully convinced until now. He went in and sat down on the bed, not really surprised to find his hand shaking. He was exhausted, after all. The water in his eyes, that was just from the dust kicked up on the road. He laid a light hand on Dean's shoulder, relieved to find the shoulder warm and soft, not cold and stiff. John's boy was alive and still human.

The first thing he became aware of when he woke was the pain. His arms were bound above his head by shackles that cut brutally into his hands, his feet barely touching the floor, putting all of his weight on his arms and shoulders. He was naked. Cold. Dean groaned as he slowly lifted his head, his vision swimming in and out of focus. The back of his skull throbbing in time with his heart beat. He felt sweat, or maybe even blood, slowly dripping down the back of his neck.

He looked around but didn't recognize where he was. The room was run down, wallpaper peeling off of crumbling walls. Even though he didn't know where he was, didn't remember being brought here, he still somehow knew. He remembered taking him after all, busting down the door to his motel room while he'd been on the phone with Bobby. He remembered fighting them, but of course he hadn't had a chance, he was outnumbered and off guard, no weapons, still he'd fought. Right up until the hard blow to the back of his head and the lights went out.

"He's awake." He heard a voice to the side of him, about to turn his head to look for the source but before he could his hair was grabbed and his head yanked up painfully. Dean bit his lip hard to keep the sound of pain inside that tried to break free.

"Hello, hunter." A woman's voice now, in front of him, but he was barely able to focus on her, his vision swimming dangerously. Maybe they'd given him a concussion… . In spite of himself he couldn't stop the way his heart rate kicked up a notch, as though he didn't feel vulnerable enough. He heard the woman chuckle softly. Felt the scrape of her nails down his neck and chest.

"Don't bother to deny it. We know what you are, and I'll give you one chance to make this easy on yourself, hunter. Much easier than you would have given any of my children… tell me where your friends are. We know you're not alone. Tell me, and I'll make this quick…"

Dean's heart beat even faster as he felt her nails digging into his flesh near his collar bone, and he tried but failed to keep the hiss of pain from escaping his lips. He felt his blood beginning to drip down his skin. Heard the hungry growls of the other vampires surrounding him, he watched her lift her hand to her lips and lick away his blood.

"Tasty… and so pretty too…" She all but purred, touching his face next and he tried to pull away but he couldn't with his head held the way it was. "Well?" She asked.

He wasn't about to tell the bitch that he was alone. She probably wouldn't believe him even if he did. He wasn't going to tell her about Bobby either who might, might, already be on his way here to help him. He kept his lips sealed shut and his face snapped to the side with enough force he was surprised he didn't get whiplash when she backhanded him hard. He tasted blood in his mouth.

"Suits me just fine, hunter. We haven't had something as pretty as you to play with in a long time…"

***

Dean startled awake slightly, blinking against the glare of the sun through the windows, the anxiety he felt from the dream still clouding his eyes, and he instinctively pulled away from the touch that had woken him.

"Sam?" The name fell from his lips nervously, without thought, before his brain caught up with his eyes, and he realized he was looking up into the face of his father's oldest friend. Dean sighed softly and relaxed again, offering up the older man a sheepish grin. "Hey, Bobby."

Bobby guessed he shouldn't be surprised Cristo's name slipped from Dean's lips. Cristo had been taking care of Dean since his rescue. Dean looked a little scared and confused, but once he recognized Bobby, Bobby knew, just knew, that Dean was all right. Before he realized what he was doing, he pulled Dean into a bear hug so tight he was practically trying to squeeze the breath from Dean's lungs.

"Dammit, Boy, don't you ever scare me like that again! And I still want to kick your stubborn ass up and down the driveway. You never shut me out like that again. You hear me? I know we got dangerous lives but if you're hurt, I would rather be by you and know than have some stranger call me and tell me you died. I don't care how much it might hurt this old heart of mine. It was a helluva lot harder on it not knowing and chasing your ass across two states."


Sam leaned against the doorframe, cup of coffee in hand, as he watched the reunion. It was nice to see the smile split Dean's face. Dean's eyes sparkled, his face lit up, and he was the most handsome Sam thought he'd even seen Dean. A spike of regret filled him, doubting he would ever see that look on Dean's face for him unless it was brought on by the bloodlust. With Bobby here, he supposed he really ought to try to slide out of the way, give the two friends space. A tiny nibble of jealousy rose inside him. Jealous that smile wasn't for him, jealous Dean would be spending time with Bobby, jealous of Bobby and Dean's long and deep relationship. It wasn't the sort of jealous that would enrage a man, it was regret-jealousy, the type that someone might feel looking at their ex with someone else. It was the type that, were it stronger, would drive a man to the bottle. As it was, it was just a regret that brought a sad sigh to his lips. He pushed off from the door frame and walked into the kitchen to sink into a chair at the table.

"Why the long face?" Jacob asked as he waited on the microwave to beep.

Sam gave a half laugh. "If I told you, you would accuse me of whining again. So never mind."

"Ah a little jealous are we?"

Sam's head snapped up. "How the hell do you do that? Can you read my mind or something?"

Jacob sat down at the table across from Sam and squeezed his forearm. "I've known you what, a little over half your life? You don't come as often, I know, because I'm getting older and you don't want to see that. But you used to visit a lot and I've seen you through a lot of your ups and downs. I pay attention, that's all. After all this time, I can read you like a book. When you're not hunting, you tend to let your guard down and for someone who knows you, you're not that hard a read. Of course, you don't let most people get to know you."

Sam shrugged. "It's safer that way. On way too many levels to count."

"You're lonely, Sammy. You're always so lonely. You try to hide it, but since Jessica died," Jacob gave him a wan smile, "I've been surprised you've stayed around this long."

"I still haven't found the nest that killed her," Sam said softly.

"I know," Jacob said sympathetically. He turned his head when the microwave went off. He called down the hallway as he pushed himself to his feet, "Bobby, breakfast is ready."