They circled him and watched him hungrily, their red eyes gleaming in the twilight. The faces were all familiar, even if only seen briefly as his machete cut through their necks, every single face locked in his memory was around him now, ready to exact their revenge. Stasi stood in her long dress, her blonde hair cascading over her breasts in golden waves. She was more beautiful than Sam could ever remember. Disappointment was reflected in her blue eyes and disgust was etched in her lovely, delicate face. Beyond her other vampires waited their turn, disrobing, raking their lusty gaze over his muscular body as they shouted obscenities and their plans for him. They promised to rape and fuck him until he was half dead, and then do it all over again. A platform was behind them and on it was displayed a large array of blades and whips and chains and drills and all other sorts of torture devices. Dean stood there, his green eyes hated filled and he cracked the whip restlessly.

The machetes Sam held fell from his fingers and Sam collapsed to his knees as he bowed his head. The teeth dug into his back, his arms, his shoulders and he screamed. They were everywhere, drinking his blood as he had devoured theirs. He heard the obscenities yelled at him and saw those approaching who had promised to fuck him. Sam felt the sob rise in his throat. How could he fight this? How could he possibly fight them and win?

His head snapped up when he heard the horrifying screams. Fountains of blood seemed to spray around him and on him. Those around him scattered. Pieces of some who had attacked him moments ago were now ripped to bloody shreds, barely recognizable.

The animal approached him.

We stand, it told him. We fight. We win.

The animal held its hand out to Stasi, calling to her. The blonde woman stepped forward and there were suddenly two, the woman and her animal. The look of disdain had faded from her face and instead there was now approval there. The animal called to its mate. Dean dropped the whip, the hate giving way to love as he joined them. Dean and Stasi helped Sam to his feet and both gave him smiles of forgiveness.

We stand. We fight. We win…

The animal purred softly to Sam as it held him and told him to rest. It would protect him from them. If Sam would stand strong and protect its mate in the real world, it would protect him in this world….

Sam opened his eyes slowly. The faint smell of coffee lingered in the room, but Dean was still draped warmly over him, his arms still wrapped securely about him.

"Who needs an electric blanket when I've got you?" Sam murmured softly.

For a long time Dean watched Sam sleep. Maybe it was a bit on the creepy scale, but it wasn’t as though there was anything else to do besides that and marvel at just how fucked up his life had become. Not that his life hadn’t been a little fucked up before, but the shit had really hit the fan in the last couple of weeks. It felt like everything he knew had been uprooted and everything he was had been shattered and he was only being held together now with the finest of threads. It wouldn’t take much to break him beyond repair, and his only way out at that point would be with the barrel of a gun in his mouth. If Sam wasn’t here... well, he probably would have scattered his brains all over the floor long before now.

So, yeah, much easier right now to watch the vampire sleep. Trying to pick out the subtle differences that he’d somehow missed before that would have given him a clue to what Sam was long before now. There weren’t many, nothing he would have really noticed unless he had been looking for them. Sam faked human really damned well, and that made Dean feel marginally better. That he wasn’t a complete moron for not noticing what Sam was before. Even though Sam had said some other hunters had been able to take one look at him and know... he had no idea how though.

Even when Sam was so deeply asleep his breathing only slowed down a little more than what a human could survive on. The only way Dean knew that Sam’s heart was beating slower and a little more irregularly was because he felt it. And under the blanket with him the vampire’s flesh remained fairly warm, alive... Not that vampires were the walking dead they were sometimes portrayed in Hollywood, but still Sam was a far cry from Dracula and Dean would have probably never pegged Sam as a vampire just by looking at him.

He wondered briefly how long Sam would have hid it from him if the whole thing with the vampire nest hadn’t happened... Probably wouldn’t have mattered since he’d been fully ready to walk out of Sam’s life forever before they’d both been captured and tortured...

Dean sighed softly, cutting off that line of thought abruptly. Running his fingers slowly through Sam’s hair, telling himself it was because he had nothing better to do and hoping to stop any bad dreams before they started. It was the least he could do.

It was near dusk when Dean finally, carefully withdrew himself from Sam’s embrace and got up despite how stiff and sore as hell he still felt. Though considering what had been done to him the fact that he could stand up at all, even unsteadily, was a friggen miracle. He still felt bad enough though that he probably wouldn’t have gotten up if he wasn’t bored out of his mind and needed to move around to keep himself awake at that point. He walked around the room a few times, stretching out his muscles and cataloging what still hurt and what didn’t, his eyes drifting to Sam every few minutes for any indication the vampire’s sleep had grown disturbed. He looked out the windows, seeing where they were for the first time, and when he got bored with that he went over to rummage through the stuff Sam had “purchased” for them.

Dean found and pulled on a pair of sweatpants which made him feel a hell of a lot less exposed and he even found the coffee that Sam had mentioned earlier. He made himself a cup, and drank it with a few painkillers he found, that and the caffeine shot to his system just what he needed as he stared out the window and watched the sun slowly setting into the horizon.

He returned to the mattress then, feeling pretty worn out by that point but he knew the coffee would keep him awake. He laid down with Sam in the same position that he had before, draping himself half way over the vampire and wrapping his arms around him.

“I’m here.” Dean whispered as he brushed his lips lightly over the small crease that had formed in the other man’s forehead. Feeling Sam relax a little more in his arms and a small smile pulled at Dean’s lips. It was only about a half hour after that when Sam woke and Dean snorted softly at the other man’s comment.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Sam smirked. "Are you saying you woke me with a kiss?"

He ran his hand through Dean's hair then lightly brushed his fingers over Dean's cheeks and lips.

"You are beautiful," Sam murmured. He licked his dry lips and then lifted his head, brushing his lips over Dean's. He probed lightly with his tongue, seeking entrance, but was prepared for Dean to refuse him. He wouldn't push. When Dean parted his lips, Sam's tongue slowly explored Dean's mouth, his fingers drifting to the back of Dean's head, combing through the fine silky hair at the base of his skull. He kept his kiss light and loving, not wanting for either of them to have any reminders of the brutal kissing the vampires had forced on them. After a long, slow exploration, he coaxed Dean's tongue into his own mouth and let Dean explore his mouth the way he had explored the young hunter's.

Sam smiled at him when they finally broke their kiss. "That was a nice kiss, Prince Charming. A nice way to wake up. I see," Sam said, running his hand down Dean's side, and stopping at the elastic band of the sweats, "that you found the clothes and it smells like you found the coffee too. Instant coffee sucks, but I figured it was the best we were going to get out here in the land of no electricity. And I knew I should have hid those clothes better." He grinned at Dean.

Sam cupped the young man' face with the side of his hand and grew more serious. "You know, you probably ought to get some sleep, and I probably ought to go hunting." He glanced toward the window at the growing twilight. "The deer are probably beginning to stir."

He kissed Dean lightly again. "Unless you're interested in having to deal with my approaching woodie, as much as I would like to lie here with you, like this, you probably ought to let me up. I can get you some dinner made. You have to be hungry. Then I can hunt, and then come back up and we can stretch out on this lumpy beast of a mattress, take our positions, and maybe I can help keep your nightmares away while you sleep. So which of my offers sound most attractive to you, Prince Charming? Sex, dinner, or sleep? Or any combination of the three, of course.

Dean snorted softly in amusement, mostly to cover up his slight embarrassment because technically he had kissed Sam and the other man had woken not long after. Not that he was going to admit that aloud because it was so damned girly. Then, speaking of girly, Sam was touching his face and looking at him in a way that made his insides practically melt, not to mention how his cheeks warmed when the other man called him “beautiful”. Damn it. There he goes blushing again like some lovesick chick…

A second later though he wasn’t really caring because Sam was kissing him slowly and tenderly and it felt so damned good when he felt the other man’s tongue slide over his lips he parted them in invitation without thought. A soft moan escaping from his mouth into Sam’s as the vampire’s fingers gently pet the back of his neck and his tongue explored every inch of his mouth. Dean eagerly accepted the invitation and followed Sam’s tongue back into the other man’s mouth tasting him just as thoroughly.

It was probably a good thing Sam broke the kiss when he did, before it led to things Dean was pretty certain neither of them were really ready for… despite the way they had woken up together earlier. When Sam’s “animal” had been in charge. Dean rolled his eyes a little at Sam’s comment about hiding the clothes, even though he didn’t really mind the hand drifting down his side to rest on his hip.

“I think you’ve got the whole sleeping beauty thing backwards.” Dean mumbled under his breath, nodding a little when Sam mentioned he should go hunting. Yeah he probably should, a hungry vampire was never a good thing. Though when Sam made his “offers” Dean arched an eyebrow a bit, more about the first one than about making him dinner or him sleeping. Then he outright laughed at the other man’s comment about any combination.

“What, does that mean you’ll have sex with me while I’m sleeping?” Dean joked lightly before sliding off the other man to let Sam get up. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was tease the other man. “Food sounds good. Though if you want to go hunting now I can make myself something.”

Sam grinned at Dean's laughter. It was nice to hear Dean laugh and see his smile. And he did like the little flush he saw creep to Dean's cheeks when Sam had called him "beautiful." When Dean's weight lifted from him, Sam sat up. He began to run two fingers down Dean's chest and watched as Dean's eyes followed his hand. He flicked his fingers up, lightly catching Dean under the chin. He chuckled at Dean's surprised look. One of the oldest tricks in the book.

"Nah, it's not very much fun to be the only active participant." Sam laughed as he pushed himself to his feet, making sure to give Dean a nice clear view of his God-given equipment before turning and spotting his clothes that lay in pile. He leaned over and picked up the shirt, but then folded it and set it aside. If he was going to eat, no sense getting it bloody. So he picked up his jeans and slid into them. He decided he wished he had gotten one size larger. The jeans were a little tighter than he generally preferred.

"I didn't get your bandages changed out and it's been at least a day. Why don't I take them off, clean your back, and let the wounds breathe a little before I rebandage them? They can breathe while you and I eat. Then I'll redress them before you go to sleep."

He retrieved some gauze and one of the few bottles of water they had left and knelt behind Dean. "I'm going to start at your left shoulder," Sam told him and began loosening the the tape carefully. He gently pulled away the ointment and blood coated dressing. It didn't take him long before Dean's entire back was exposed. He ground his teeth, the sheer damage he had done to Dean's back astounding. If Dean didn't have vampiric healing, it may well have crippled him, the way his shoulder muscles had been cut into. Even for all the damage, Dean's wounds were healing rapidly. Another day or two and he should be mostly healed up. A few of the shallower wounds were already fully closed and the scars fading. Unfortunately more of the wounds were deeper rather than shallow, but even so they would be healed soon enough.

"I'm going to wash down your back. It'll probably hurt, but it shouldn’t be too bad, which is, I know, easy for me to say. I'll be as gentle as I can. And as much as you don't want to hear it, you need to be stretching your back and working your shoulders. If you don't, the skin will heal up tight and you'll just have to stretch it then, which will be harder and more painful in the long run. Probably best to stretch it without the bandages or the stretching will just pull the gauze tight against your wounds."

Sam soaked the gauze and slowly, carefully began cleaning away the ointment and blood. The smell of the blood almost turned Sam's stomach. Pain and fear permeated its odor. In some ways it approached being like dead man's blood. Here and there a bit of fresh blood seeped from a few of the gashes, but only because Sam was cleaning them with the water. Almost as soon as he lightly patted Dean's back dry, the blood stopped flowing.

Sam kissed Dean lightly at the crook of his neck. "All done, Prince. Now what would you like for dinner? I spared no expense. You've got succulent choices ranging from stew to canned chicken to soup. And what say as soon as I finish eating, I retrieve that beer from the creek? Though I think I grabbed some Reeses Cups if you would rather have that for dessert."

Dean grinned and rolled his eyes again at Sam’s antics, he had a feeling if he kept doing that they were going to fall out of his head before too long. But at least the other man seemed to be in a much better mood than when Sam had gone to sleep if he felt like joking and playing stupid pranks on him.

Then Sam was getting up and giving Dean a clear view of his half hard cock and perfect ass, and yeah, he was staring but how could he not when it was right there in his face. He wasn’t sure which was the nicer view. Sam standing in front of him unashamed and bare assed or Sam squeezed into those too tight jeans that really didn’t leave much to the imagination, not that Dean needed his imagination after that little display.

The young man cleared his throat and nodded slightly when Sam suggested he change out his bandages and rolled onto his stomach. His own, now more than awake, cock pressing rather uncomfortably into the lumpy mattress beneath him. Though his “problem” wilted rather quickly once Sam actually got to work peeling off the old bandages from his shoulders and back. The old dried blood sticking to the partially healed wounds and feeling “unpleasant” while they were removed was an understatement.

“I’m fine.” He reassured the other man anyway when Sam warned him it was going to hurt. He knew it would, and it really fucking did, but they had both definitely been through worse. Sam especially. So he wasn’t going to complain no matter how much the wounds hurt while Sam was cleaning them. Even if he was a little pale and felt a whole lot shakier than before Sam had begun.

He blew out a long slow breath once Sam was finished and turned his head to look at the other man though he didn’t get up.

“Anything’s good, Princess.” Dean said with a slight smirk that wasn’t entirely forced. While normally he’d much prefer a greasy cheeseburger and fries over chicken soup, right now he wasn’t that picky. A few beers right now however sounded really good to him. “And I could definitely use a beer.”

Distastefully Sam stuffed the old bandages into a plastic bag, tied it shut, and lobbed it out the open door. He'd toss it in the basement or something when he left to hunt.

"You're back is looking good. No signs of infection and by tomorrow night most of the wounds will probably be closed up. Another day, maybe two and you should be able to put weight on it," he said as he went over to the bags and began sorting through them. He paused suddenly glancing back at Dean with a grin.

"I have an excellent idea, Prince Charming. How about chili and corn chips as an appetizer with venison as the main course? It would be a shame to waste all the meat. Assuming of course, I'm able to take down a deer."

He carried the snack over to Dean and then brought over the camp stove. After stripping the label free, he opened the can and turned the stove on low, setting the can over the flame. Retrieving a couple sports drinks, a towel, paper plates, and a spoon, he brought them over to the prone man. Digging into the chips, he scooped out some cold chili with them and ate them.

"Not too bad," Sam said approvingly. "Save me some or I won't share my venison," he added with a wink.

Sam retrieved his gun and machete. "I'd rather not use the gun if I don't have to. Extra noise and all that, but we'll see. As soon as I eat, how about we sit outside, start a small campfire, and cook up some deer? Shouldn't be any bugs out to bother us and as long as we keep the fire small, it won't be noticed. We're probably a good quarter mile or more off the road and the closest house I saw was maybe five miles west of here.

"As soon as I take down the deer, I'll grab the beer and some steaks, and then come get you. I don't want to spook the deer or I'd suggest you come down now. There are some flannel shirts in one of the bags if you need one, even if just to drape over your shoulders." He knelt by Dean and tilted his head as he asked, "You okay with me leaving? I'll almost assuredly be within earshot but it's okay if you're not. I can wait until morning."

Dean raised an eyebrow slightly when Sam said his back was looking “good”, not that he was displeased to hear that, he was just a bit doubtful. Maybe it felt worse than it looked, then again, considering how he’d been shredded he supposed it probably did look a lot better than it should have. He was still a little surprised to hear Sam say the wounds would probably be closed up by tomorrow and he might even be able to put weight on it. He wondered briefly how badly it would scar, or if it would scar at all. Dean resisted the urge to run his fingers over the new scar on his neck… he’d certainly gained quite a collection over the past couple weeks…


Suddenly Sam turned to him, grinning, and looking so pleased with himself by his suggestion and Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly. Even though he had a feeling he was going to regret it sooner or later for making that “Sleeping Beauty” comment if Sam kept calling him Prince Charming.

“Sounds good to me.” Dean had to admit as he watched the other man get the chili ready and Dean’s stomach growled in definite agreement to the plan. Ok, so maybe he was feeling good enough for something more solid than chicken soup, since the idea of the fresh meat was already making his mouth water a little.

Though he was a little surprised when Sam scooped a bit of the chili and ate it cold. Not so much that he’d had it cold, which was a bit gross, but the fact that he’d eaten it at all. Dean knew vampires didn’t need food the way humans did to survive. A part of him had assumed when he’d seen Sam eat before the other man had just been putting on an act. Now that he knew Sam was a vampire, he just didn’t expect to see him eat solid food. But he supposed it was definitely better than sharing a meal together where Dean had corn chips while Sam sucked on a deer, that would just be awkward and probably make him lose his appetite.

As he watched Sam getting ready to leave, it finally hit him that the other man was leaving and an uneasiness began to grow in the pit of his stomach despite how he tried to hide it. Sam was leaving him alone, with weapons of course, but somehow Dean still felt defenseless. The last time he and Sam had been apart the vampires had come and… Sam must have sensed his growing tension because suddenly the other man was kneeling beside him, asking him if he was ok with him leaving, and offering to stay if he wanted…

Dean shoved his growing feelings of unease deep down, angry at himself, even as he gave Sam a “reassuring” smile. He was not going to freak out every time Sam left his sight, god damn it.

“I’ll be fine. Go on, before you decide to make me a midnight snack.” Dean said, making a shooing motion with his hand. Of course he was joking, he didn’t think Sam would do such a thing, the vampire had made that pretty clear. But it was a lot easier to joke than to admit his fear.

It was a bald faced lie and he knew it. Dean was freaked with the thought of him walking out that door. Admittedly, he was a little bothered by the thought of being out of Dean's sight himself and he wondered how much of that was the bloodmate thing and how much was because of what the vampires did to them. They couldn't be connected at the hip forever though. Both of them needed to learn to stand on their own again.

He chuckled at Dean's joke. He leaned down and brushed Dean's lips with his own. "I could be persuaded to have a midnight snack but it most assuredly would not be the type where blood would be involved."

He stood and headed for the door, the trepidation filling him more and more as he got closer to the hall. He forced himself to continue and quickly made his way down the hall, down the creaking stairs, and out the back door. He paused outside the door and smelled the air. The deer were certainly up and about and the vampire in him sat up and took notice at the thought of food. And food that wasn't fucking domesticated.

The best non-human blood was elk, but deer wasn't bad. Whereas cow was a three day old milkshake, deer was more like a day and a half. It would probably taste more rank than normal since he had been feasting on human blood lately. He couldn't wait to get to a big city where the human vampire types were willing to share blood. That, he supposed, was several days off. Unfortunately hunts didn't often take him into big cities, but the withdrawals from eating human blood were made a lot easier if cow blood could be supplemented with human blood now and again.

Ugh. Cow blood. He was not looking forward to that again.

The scent of the deer grew stronger and his sharp vampire eyes caught movement across the way and he heard hooves crunching through tall grass. Patience, he cautioned himself and forced himself to remain still, to let the deer come to him. Since he hadn't been eating solid food he knew his scent was more vampire than human and 'vampire' tended to spook animals more than 'human' did. Between being predator and the undead thing, he couldn’t blame them. He was glad he was downwind of the deer.

The deer moved into the clearing of what had once been the house's large "back yard". Tall grass spiked up in waving clumps and the tire swing hanging from the large tree fifty yards away spun slowly in the light breeze and made the tree's limb creak ever so slightly. What had once been a vegetable garden was long since overgrown, but tomato plants still grew tenaciously along side some ripening corn. He wasn't sure what else was out there but the deer seemed interested. Six deer, one buck and five doe paused and nibbled at the food. Since it wasn't rutting season he knew the buck shouldn't be too much of a danger. He began his slow creep across the ground, silently slipping from the rusted remains of a tractor, to a clump over overgrown weeds and on to where an ancient refrigerator deteriorated. Stalking the slowly moving herd he smiled a little as he grew closer. It had been awhile since he had hunted wild animals and he did always enjoy the hunt. Even when he had been human he had enjoyed hunting.

Deer weren't prone to staying in one place very long so they continued to wander through the tall grasses. Sam waited and watched, calculating the distance and his speed versus their speed. Holding his machete ready, he finally launched himself at the herd, at one of the smaller doe. Using all his vampire speed he crossed the flat ground and with a last push of speed swung the machete. The blade cut deeply, blood pouring from the lethal injury. After fifteen feet, the doe collapsed. Sam was on it immediately, burying his teeth in the animal's neck and hungrily swallowing the still warm blood. The blood wasn't nearly as rank as he expected and he was able to readily stomach it, taking in as much as he possibly could. It would need to hold him for awhile, though he was certain he would be able to supplement it, stretching out the time before he truly had to eat. He would certainly be hungry in a week's time but if he absolutely had to he could probably go three, maybe even four weeks before the animal within him got too hard to keep under control but even so at the end of that first week the struggle would likely begin. He hoped it didn't come to that.

Finishing up his meal, he glanced back toward the house. Damn, he'd been in view of the window. He hoped Dean hadn't watched him feed. He didn't see Dean currently, but that didn't mean the young man hadn't been there for a time. Well, he supposed Dean had seen him feed on humans so what was a deer? It wasn't like he ripped it apart viciously. Nothing he could if the man had seen him anyhow.

Sam walked over to the burbling creek in the distance and rinsed himself clean of the blood. He had managed to keep blood from splattering his jean which made him more than a little happy. With Dean's potentially heightened senses, it was best to try to keep such things at bay. After washing himself and his machete, he grabbed the beer. He had drunk a few earlier while Dean was still asleep and healing, but there was plenty left for the two of them tonight. The beer retrieved he anxiously headed back to the deer and butchered the best cuts from near the deer's haunch. He wanted to get back to Dean as soon as he could. He could already keenly feel Dean's absence. After setting the spoils on the rickety back porch, he went over to the garden. Three ears of corn were ripe enough to eat, and there were plenty of tomatoes, onions and even a handful of string beans. He'd be able to offer Dean a decent meal after all.

He carried the additional food back to the porch then walked up to the room they had been in. A small knot inside him relaxed, being back in the presence of the hunter. A part of him found that hilarious. Relaxing in the presence of a hunter.

"Looks like I'll be offering you a feast fit for a prince after all," Sam said with a pleased smile as he entered the room. "You ready to get out of this room and help me get the fire going?"

Dean wasn’t sure he’d made it even five minutes after the other man walked out the door before he was pushing himself up from the mattress. Not really caring how much the recently cleaned wounds across his back hurt as he stood up and walked a little unsteadily over to the window. A part of him hated himself for it even as he looked out the window searching for Sam, but not enough to return to the mattress.

He was only realizing just how safe he’d felt with Sam here now that he was gone. The young hunter felt an insane urge to laugh build up inside of him at that thought. That he felt safe with a vampire… But with Sam gone there was no denying the bitter taste of panic that was welling up in his throat, the cold knot of fear pooling in his gut, every creek and groan and sound of the wind making his muscles tense up all the more till he was practically shaking.

The young man was seconds away from swallowing his pride and calling out to Sam, knowing that the vampire would surely hear him. Knowing Sam would turn around and come back in an instant putting off his own meal to come back to him, to make him feel safe again. Waiting till tomorrow morning just like he said he would, not that Dean was all that certain the daylight would mean a damned difference to the panic that felt like it was suffocating him.

It was so damned dark outside. Night fell fast when there weren’t any lights around but the moon and stars for miles. But even in the darkness he could see just fine, and when he finally caught sight of Sam something inside of him relaxed. The tension didn’t really leave him but the terror began to slowly drain away.

Sam was safe. He was safe. There was nothing out there. Nothing but the deer the vampire was hunting and Sam. Dean told himself over and over. Watching Sam even though as far as the other man had disappeared into the deepening shadows he knew he shouldn’t have been able to see him, he still could. Even as Sam moved far too fast for normal eyes to follow, especially in so little light, he still watched. He watched as Sam took down the doe quickly, practically effortlessly. He watched as the vampire fed…

And then Dean blinked, as though coming out of a trance, and he forced himself to turn away from the window and head back to the mattress. His fear hadn’t completely dissipated but the sheer terror was gone. Enough to make him feel really fucking embarrassed over it as he sat down on the mattress and started spooning out some of the now warm chili from the can with the corn chips. He knew Sam would be back soon. Maybe that’s why the fear in him had finally quieted to a bearable level. Sam was coming back to him, not leaving, and somehow that made all the difference…

He looked up when Sam entered the room.

“Sure.” Dean replied, offering the other man a casual grin he hoped the vampire bought because he really didn’t want him to know just how freaked out he’d been.

Dean's heart maybe wasn't racing, but it was beating much faster than it had been when Sam left. Dean was sitting up now, so it was a good bet Dean had walked over to the window. He hoped Dean's racing heart was from exertion and not because Dean had watched him feed. Surely Dean wasn't afraid of him, not at this point…right?

Sam squelched his own fears, trying to bury them as deeply as he could. Vampires freaked people out. Plain and simple. And while Dean was used to thinking of Sam as a man, as a human, Sam couldn't help but worry Dean had watched him feed and that it brought up any number of complications, ranging from hunter and vampire being enemies, to memories of the nest, to … hell, just freaking. Sam was the walking dead and a halfbreed demon, after all. Even if Dean was a hunter and used to supernatural creatures, supernatural creatures weren't warm fuzzy bunnies.

So Sam accepted Dean's smile as truth. He took just a moment to admire the handsome man and felt his heart flutter just a little. God, he could be such a girl sometimes.

Shaking himself out of his admiration of Dean's bare chest and beautiful face, Sam retrieved some socks and shoes for Dean. "Lots of nasty things out there. Glass, nails, you name it." He emptied out a bag and stuffed two towels, a flannel shirt, the towellettes, a couple paper plates, silverware, and the open bag of chips down inside. He put his own shirt on at that point and pulled a flannel over top of it.

"It isn't really cold, but," Sam flushed a little, "it's easier to dress a little warmer than try to keep my body temperature up to normal. I don't particularly like being cold.

"You up to walking without help? The stairs are kind of steep. I almost fell down them at one point myself. And I don't think you ought to trust the banister to lean on. It's a bit on the wobbly side. And even if you don't need help, I'm still going down the stairs first, just in case. I'll come back up and get the chili once we get the fire started."

Dean took the offer of socks and the shoes that wound up being just a little too big for him but he wasn’t really complaining. He was just glad that the other man had thought to get him a pair. Seemed like Sam had thought of pretty much everything, in fact, and at least the shoes were too big rather than two small.

He took Sam’s explanation as to why he was layering up with clothes with a simple nod. Though to be honest he was a little surprised, and he knew he shouldn’t be. He knew Sam was a vampire after all, he’d just watched Sam eat a fucking deer for Christ sake, and he wasn’t completely clueless about them. He knew vampires didn’t need to eat human food, he knew vampires could hear their prey’s heartbeat, he knew vampires temperatures were normally much lower than humans. So why then was he constantly surprised by the little things he should be realizing on his own about Sam?

Dean didn’t know why. Maybe because Sam had pretended to be human around him so well a part of him just assumed he’d keep doing it. Or maybe it was just a weird kind of denial. A way to separate Sam from the rest of his kind, like the ones that had captured, tortured, and raped him. He honestly didn’t know, and he honestly didn’t really care right now. He wasn’t ready to examine all the fractured twisted pieces of himself that might be left over after what he’d went through. What they’d both went through…

If denial kept him sane, then so be it.

Dean blinked a little, coming out of his inner musings realizing that Sam had asked him a question, and nodded. Hoping that the other man hadn’t been waiting for him to respond for very long.

“Yeah, I can make it.” He reassured Sam, though to be honest he wasn’t all that certain. Walking the few feet from the mattress to the window was one thing, old rickety stairs was another, but he wouldn’t know until he attempted it.

Dean pushed himself up carefully again, using the wall for support and grabbed the other flannel shirt that Sam had mentioned before and slipped it on with a slight grimace. Though to be honest the flannel was a lot softer than the bandages had been, and the thick material would protect him from mosquitoes if nothing else.

He followed Sam out the door then and down the stairs, and Dean quickly agreed with the other man’s assessment of the banister. Reaching out to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder in front of him for support instead as they made their way almost painfully slow down the stairs, but at least they both made it down in one piece. Dean found himself almost reluctant to remove his hand once they were both on more stable ground again.

Sam watched the young man push himself to his feet and wished he could take away the man's pain. If he offered Dean blood, Dean would probably heal faster, but he suspected hunter wouldn't take well to that suggestion. The blood would likely arouse Dean, which certainly wasn't a bad thing, but Sam was tired of Dean wanting to have sex with him because they were bloodmates. He really wanted Dean to want to make love to him.
And, admittedly, Sam had just fed. He would really like to get through a week without having to donate blood if it wasn't necessary. Any blood he offered Dean probably wouldn't speed the healing up by more than a handful of hours at this point anyhow. He didn't want his lover to hurt, but he needed to heal too. Externally he appeared fully healed but the virus had merely stitched the necessary things together. He ached, he hurt, not that he would ever let Dean know that. Having finally gotten a good meal inside himself, his body could start mending itself properly. Within a few days he should be good as new, but until then, he wasn't particularly anxious to exert himself beyond what was necessary.

He watched Dean closely as he preceded Dean out the door. When they reached the stairs Sam descended one step at a time and almost immediately Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder to steady himself. Sam went as slowly as Dean needed to go. It wasn't as if there was any great rush to get any place. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sam twisted his head and gave Dean a slight smile.

"You might as well just keep your hand on my shoulder. This house creaks and groans for a reason. And wait until you see the back porch."

Sam led Dean slowly toward the back door and at the back porch stairs turned around and helped Dean down the rubble that had once been steps. Sam broke a couple boards free of the porch and placed them a good twenty feet from the back door in something of a bare patch and put the bag of stuff beside the boards

"C'mon, sit down here," Sam said, letting Dean walk the distance himself, but standing ready to help him if the uneven ground tripped him up.

"I'll get wood gathered. If you'd get the fire built, that would help," Sam said, handing Dean a lighter and his gun. "Remember, don't make it too big."

Sam quickly gathered tinder for Dean, and then started bringing over larger wood from the tree line. Deadwood was everywhere and he easily created a woodpile that would last them hours. Seeing Dean had a good start to the fire, he retrieved the chili and chips and brought over the food and beer.

Deciding to take Sam’s word for it rather than find out for himself he returned his hand to the other man’s shoulder for support as he followed him out the back door of the run down house. Feeling the boards of the porch creek threateningly under his feet and he began to wonder if the old dry rotted wood would actually support both of their weight. But considering that Sam had carried him into the house and up the stairs when they first got here he supposed the floor had been able to support their combined weight well enough since he didn’t see any holes.

Definitely not trusting the old porch once he got a look at it Dean didn’t complain about the help Sam gave him down what remained of the stairs. The young man was quite glad to be back on solid ground again and followed Sam out to the small clearing in the long weeds. He was also glad to be sitting down again, the “adventure” of getting out of the house as exhausting as he’d feared it would be.

Dean took the offered lighter and the gun from Sam, nodding as the other man suggested he get the fire started while Sam gathered more wood. He wasn’t the outdoors camping kind of guy but that didn’t mean his Dad hadn’t taught him how to make a basic fire fairly easily, though he might be a little rusty with lack of practice. His Dad would probably kick his ass for that. The older man had always been adamant to be prepared for anything and had taught him how to survive in just about any kind of situation.

It didn’t take long for him to arrange the small sticks and a few handfuls of the long dry grass to get the fire going well before Sam had finished collecting wood. Especially considering he had a lighter to help things along, trying to light a fire without one was just a bitch. He added a few larger pieces of wood as the other man left to gather up the food and beer and brought it over.

Pleased that his camping skills weren’t that rusted after all, Dean stretched his legs out, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Grinning up Sam and gratefully taking an offered beer, opening it, and taking a long pull.

“Damn that’s good.” He sighed, watching as the other man got the meat ready to start cooking over the fire. “All we need are some smores and we’ll be living the high life.”

Sam chuckled at Dean's pleased sigh over the beer.

"Venison, corn on the cob, fresh tomatoes, onion and string beans aren't the high life huh?" Sam asked with a cocked eyebrow. Grinning he added, "Well, I can see you're a cheap date. I promise, next time I'll bring s'mores." He paused and sighed himself. "And tequila."

After dousing the corn with water, he tossed the three ears into the fire, leaving their shucks still on them. He set the onions and tomatoes by Dean and gave him a knife. "Cut those into quarters, would you? And then would you get me some chips and put some chili on them? Oh, and maybe put a little fresh onion and tomato pieces on them? Please?"

Popping open a beer, Sam poured its contents into the sauce pan and tossed cut up pieces of meat in it to marinate. He whittled some wooden sticks to spear the food on and then stacked up some rocks on either side of the fire. Next he started stuffing the string beans down into the beer can and after half of them were stuffed inside, put some water in the can and, set it in the fire.

Handing Dean the sticks and moving the meat beside him, he settled down beside Dean. He grabbed a beer for himself and, after wiping his hands clean with a couple towellettes, pulled the plate of chips close and began eating them. "Thanks for the chips. I'll cook if you'll shish-kabob."

Dean couldn’t help but laugh slightly when Sam called him a cheap date. It was certainly true. As far as meals went he was usually pretty content with a good cheeseburger, fries, and pie. Though he had to admit as Sam started preparing their food to cook he couldn’t help but be impressed.

His normal campfire fare was franks and beans and not much variety away from that. Sam however seemed very comfortable, and very inventive, as he went about cooking their food. From flavoring the meat with beer to using the empty can to cook their vegetables of all things.

While his Dad had taught him how to survive out in the wild for several days, or even weeks, if he had to, Sam certainly had his dad beat in this department. Creating a “gourmet” meal with nothing more than a crappy little fire, better than the fare he usually had at a sit down restaurant,, was something else entirely.

By comparison his contribution of preparing a plate of nacho chips, canned chili, and a few cut up vegetables seemed pretty inadequate. But Sam didn’t seem to mind as he sat down beside him and started munching on the nachos. Dean nodded as he started cutting up the meat into manageable pieces and spearing it onto a couple of sticks to cook on.

“So, where’d you learn to do all this?” The young man asked conversationally while he worked, handing over a finished shish-kabob to Sam when he was done and started working on another.

Sam watched as Dean built the kabobs and when Dean handed over the first one, Sam salted it and then laid it over the fire, either end on the rocks he had set there.

He chewed over Dean's question. He really wasn't accustomed to telling the truth when it came to his past, but then again, only a few people knew the truth that he was a vampire.

"I've spent a lot of years cooking over a fire. Usually didn't have the fresh vegetables with the meat of course. That's a serious bonus. And having the luxury of marinating the meat in beer? Another serious bonus." He chuckled.

The curiosity he saw in Dean's green eyes was plain and Sam gave a small smile.

"I was born in 1833. By the time I was twenty three I was married with two kids. We were on the road, going into town to sell hides and pottery for food for the winter. Bandits attacked. I was stabbed in the gut and watched my family raped and killed and I was left for dead. Anastasia, my sire, found me. I was well into peritonitis by then and it hurt so badly I was ready to kill myself given a means to do so.

"She offered to turn me into a vampire, promised me vengeance on the bandits and promised to teach me to live without needing to kill people to survive." Sam laughed softly. "I'm not sure that last part really mattered to me at the time. I wasn't a sterling example of a man or a husband and figured I was hell bound anyhow." After taking another drink of the beer Sam gave a small shrug. "She turned me and taught me how to control the bloodlust. She taught me how to live on animal blood supplemented with human blood if possible. Animal blood really doesn't taste all that good, honestly and it does make us a little weaker than out counterparts, but we're less affected by sunlight and able to sleep more readily at night than during the day if we chose to.

"Stasi taught me all about the supernatural evils of the world and taught me how to hunt. She came from a lineage of vampires who don't kill humans and in turn hunted those that do. There are more 'vegetarian' vampires out there than any hunter might imagine, vampires leading very normal lives. More surprisingly, a few nests of 'regular' vampires have gone vegetarian. Trying to avoid extinction and all that though some are having a hard time learning how to cover their tracks and hunters find them anyhow. Worst of all they aren't hooked into the network and we're rather reluctant to trust them enough to let them in. 'Regular' vampires want us dead as much as we want them dead. Furthermore, demons sometimes put us on their hit list. I exorcised a couple nasty demons and have the dubious honor of being on one such list. Hence the last name I use now. They were getting pretty damned determined to take me out there for awhile. I haven't been bothered by any in a good fifteen years, so maybe I'm no longer of interest. Well, that, and I try to avoid demons if possible, tossing the info to other hunters to follow up."

He accepted the next kabob and put it over the fire and turned the first one. Finishing off his beer, he filled the can with the remaining string beans and put it in the fire, taking the time to rotate the corn.

"I've had three partners, excluding my sire. Michael, Elizabeth and Jessica. Stasi turned Michael, Elizabeth was a hunter who saved me from a nest of pissed off vampires, and Jessica I found in a nest I took out. She hadn't been turned yet and I taught her to hunt. I've sired four vampires, all people near death who begged me to, even though they understood it condemned them to Hell. At least, I have always assumed it does. One I was unable to keep from the bloodlust and had to kill anyhow. One was killed by a hunter, and two yet live.

"That's my abbreviated life story. So what about you? Why did you become a hunter?" Sam asked, handing Dean another beer.

Dean had only been asking about Sam’s experience cooking over a campfire, making small talk as it were, so he was a bit surprised when the vampire launched into his abbreviated life story. 1833? That meant Sam was more than a hundred and fifty years old!

The young man’s astonishment over the age of his companion evaporated very quickly however when Sam went on to explain how he had become a vampire. How his wife and children had been killed and he had left for dead…

It was not easy to hear, especially considering what they’d just been through together at the hands of vampires. He didn’t want to hear about any more pain in Sam’s life, but at the same time he couldn’t simply tell the other man to stop.

Thankfully Sam moved onto the marginally “safer” topic of how he’d become a hunter. A vampire hunter. Yeah, he supposed that was a little bit funny now that Dean had the time to think about it. He supposed he wasn’t all that surprised when Sam said that there were a lot more “vegetarian” vampires out there than he could imagine. Considering his dad had once told him that vampires were on the verge of extinction and all the ones he’d run into lately, no he wasn’t surprised. He definitely didn’t like Sam talking about him being on a demon’s hit list so he was glad that Sam hadn’t run into any in a while.

Then Sam went on to talk about his previous… partners… No, he was not jealous damn it. Especially considering they’d probably all died before he was even born… But as much as he tried to deny it to himself that same feeling he’d gotten when he knew Sam had gone out to that bar and got laid was there. Not as strong as before, of course, but it was definitely there.

Finally Sam was handing him a fresh beer and… asking him how he became a hunter… and Dean popped open the top and took a long drink from the can. It wasn’t something he liked to talked about. Not with anyone. He supposed he could have just said his Dad had been a hunter and he took up the “family business” and left it at that, but after everything Sam had just told him…

“My mom… she was killed when I was four. My dad figured out it was something supernatural that killed her and became a hunter to track it down. He trained me and when I was old enough we hunted together. We went after pretty much anything we got wind of but we never stopped looking for that thing.”

Dean’s eyes shifted away from Sam’s face to stare into the fire when he got to the next part. “He was killed on a hunt when I was 19. Black dogs… it was my fault, I got him killed…”

Dean shrugged slightly and shook his head.

“Not much else to tell. I work alone now, except a few times with Bobby.”

He saw the hesitation in the young man and supposed he shouldn't have asked. All hunters had their reasons for becoming hunters and generally those reasons weren't pleasant ones. That long draw of beer was certainly Dean trying to find the courage to discuss what was probably a distasteful subject. Sam knew he lacked tact sometimes but he really did want to know something more about the man beside other than that he liked old cars, loud music, and hamburgers.

Only four and losing one's mother. Sam lost his at nine. She died in childbirth, something not terribly uncommon in the day, but he at least had her until nine. At four, Dean probably didn't even remember his mother. Then to lose his father to the supernatural too and at only nineteen? Of course when he was a young man, nineteen was considered "older" than nineteen of the present day. Still, it meant Dean was alone. Had been alone for…six? seven? years. He suddenly wondered how old Dean was. Mid twenties surely. And Dean blamed himself for his father's death.

A bad hunt was a bad hunt. He had lost a few friends that way. It took only a second of inattention, a second to trip, make a noise, anything, and someone paid with their life. You carried the guilt. You always carried the guilt. He remember Dean's nightmare in the car on the way to Jacob's and the knowledge that Dean blamed himself made that nightmare all the worse.

"I still blame myself for the deaths of my family, too," Sam said softly. He gave a wry smile. "Sucks when you know it's the truth, sucks even if it wasn't your fault but you feel like it was." Sam poked at the fire, watching embers soar skyward and hearing the wood crackle. He moved the corn around and the cans with the beans then rotated the venison again.

Sam soaked in the night time noises, the birds, the crunch of brush under some animals paw or hoof, the whisper of the light wind through the leaves of the trees and the tall grasses around them. His gaze drifted up to the starlit night.

"When I was young I liked to look at the stars and wonder what it was like out there. I never dreamed a man would walk on the moon, or that we'd send robots to other worlds. I never dreamed I would live so long or that there were so many nasty things in the night that weren't man made or wild animals. But you know what makes it all worth while? Fighting the nasties and all of that? Ice cream sundaes. And affordable bottled beer and tequila. And barbque bacon cheese burgers. Not necessarily in that order. Candy bars are right up there, too."

Dean looked up at the other man with a slight frown. How could Sam blame himself for the deaths of his family? It certainly wasn't his fault that bandits attacked them. Sam couldn't have known. Couldn't have done anything to stop it. How could he possibly blame himself then?

He looked away again into the fire, his frown deepening at Sam's next comment, about it 'not being your fault even if you felt it was'… He didn't know if Sam was talking about himself or about Dean's father, but he supposed it didn't matter. Bobby had tried to convince him that it hadn't been his fault that his father had been killed, and if Bobby couldn't sway him then Sam sure as hell couldn't.

Yeah, small talk apparently wasn't a good thing between them…

Dean was glad for the silence then. He was surprised to realize how quiet it really was out here. No, not really quiet, just not filled with the noises he was used to. He was used to staying at motels along main roads, listening to the sound of the cars going by on the highway. Even in sleepy little towns where there wasn't much traffic he could still usually a car or two every few hours. There was none of that here. Just the insects and the crackling of the fire, they could have been the only two people in the world for all Dean knew right now, and that idea didn't displease him.

He didn't look up when Sam started speaking again but he listened, and suddenly he couldn't help wondering about all the things Sam had probably seen, experienced, through his long life. The world was so different than it had been before Sam became a vampire. Hell, the world had changed a fucking lot even in the time Dean had been alive, he could only imagine how amazing some of the things today must be to the vampire.

Then Dean couldn't help but chuckle as the other man listed off the things that made it all "worthwhile". Candy bars…

"Sex?" Dean suggested the addition to the list, grinning as he looked back to Sam. "You must have fucking loved the sixties."

Sam gave Dean a light shove. "We had sex back in the 1800s! We didn't have miniskirts and bikinis and speedos though. The more coverage the better was the belief in the old days. You know, come to think of it I really like zippers. Nothing sucked worse than having to piss and the damned ties on your pants knotted up and you're dancing around like a maniac trying desperately to get it undone before you piss yourself." Sam laughed.

"Yeah, the sixties," he said wistfully. "'Make love, not war!' And more pot and acid and drugs than you could believe. You could just walk by hippies sometimes and get high. And rock concerts? Rock concerts were just as awesome. You'd be sitting there, listening to the music and a doobie would just show up. You'd take a hit and just pass it on down the line. The sixties were pretty fabulous with the Apollo missions and 'free' sex and occasional orgy. Though it also had the Korean and Vietnam wars. The seventies and the depression, that kind of sucked, but women started burning their bras and declaring their freedom and it was something to see. And Star Wars." Sam beamed. "You have no grasp of how unbelievably fantastic that was. No one had ever seen anything like it." He paused a moment. "When's your birthday? How old are you anyhow?"

Dean gave a mild protest at Sam’s light shove but he was still grinning anyway. Then he was nearly snorting beer out of his nose he was laughing so hard imagining Sam’s “difficulty” getting his pants open back in the “old” days.

The way Sam described living through the sixties made it sound a lot cooler than Dean had ever really pictured it before, and thought he could have actually had a lot of fun at the time. A vampire getting high at a rock concert also had him laughing, and Dean raised an eyebrow when Sam mentioned the “occasional” orgies. Somehow he just couldn’t picture big bad ass Sam Christo participating in an orgy. Then again, Sam had certainly shown he had many different sides of himself since he had first met the other hunter.

Then Sam mentioned the wars and Dean wondered just how many wars Sam had witnessed? History wasn’t exactly Dean’s strong suit, but he would have at least seen World War I and II, Korean, Vietnam… even the Civil War? Wow…

Then he couldn’t help but chuckle again as Sam mentioned “bra burning” and Star Wars in practically the same sentence.

“Yeah, Star Wars is cool.” He had to agree, and laughed again when Sam asked him how old he was. “Why, afraid you’re robbing the cradle old timer?” He teased.

Sam grinned at Dean's laughter. He hadn't particularly been trying to make Dean laugh, but not everyone quite got his sometimes obtuse sense of humor. Laughter was something they both needed right now and he probably could tell Dean some stories that would put the young man in stitches.

Sam rolled his eyes. "If I were to sleep with Jacob I would be robbing the cradle. Hell, with you, I'm practically robbing the womb! If I'm an old timer then you're a young whipper snapper who's robbing the old folk's home. Hah. See if I show you my pictures with Marilyn Monroe or the couple pictures I was lucid enough to take at Woodstock before I got too stoned to work the camera or introduce you to the band AC/DC. Or show you my collection of old cars. And if—if, mind you, I do show you my old cars, no drooling on them or I'll make you wash and wax them."

Reaching over to the wood pile he had made, the vampire extracted some medium sized branches. A lot of the thinner wood Dean had used was beginning to burn through. He carefully laid the branches on the fire, being careful of the food. He rotated the kabobs, corn, and cans of beans again. He wanted to make sure they were all cooked nice and even. Dean had cut the meat large enough that the kabobs ought to be done about the same time as the corn. The beans would probably be done a little sooner.

"So," Sam said, giving Dean a sidelong glance, "how old are you? And when is your birthday?"

“That’s just gross man.” Dean snorted with laughter and gave a mock shudder as Sam mentioned sleeping with Jacob. Ok, maybe it wouldn’t have been so gross 60 years ago or something but imagining Sam and Jacob together now was not a pleasant mental image. Though now he certainly got the inside joke when Jacob had called Sam the young’un.

Then Dean raised an eyebrow when Sam started bragging about his photos with Marilyn Monroe and Woodstock, and the young man couldn’t help but laugh again. Though by the time Sam got to the part about showing him his old car collection Dean was definitely more interested.

It was hard to tell if Sam was just pulling his chain or not though. Hunters weren’t exactly known for their keepsakes, most of them moved around a lot like him and his dad. At least the hunters he knew, Bobby was the only hunter he knew with a permanent address. Not to mention Hunting didn’t exactly pay well. Him and his dad had survived on hustling and credit card scams. Hunters definitely were not known for their wealth.

But who knows considering how long Sam had been alive. His Dad had kept storage sheds here and there and if Sam had made some smart investments fifty or so years ago… it was possible he could be sitting across the fire from a millionaire.

Sam’s repeated question brought him out of his musings and he rolled his eyes a little but answered. “I’m twenty six, and I still don’t know what my birthday has anything to do with it.”

Sam wasn't surprised Dean's face lit up with the thought of seeing old cars. Considering how he acted over his Impala, Sam figured he liked classic cars in general. He had a small collection of old cars, mostly cars he simply hadn't bothered to sell and kept them instead. He had professionals restore them. Much beyond topping off fluids and changing the battery or air filter and you were getting into shaky ground for him. After changing the oil a few times he decided he would leave it to the professionals to do. He let the owners of the garage that did the refurb on them take them out to shows. They also came over and drove them every couple weeks to keep them in good running order. He used to spend a lot more time at home, but after Jessica was killed, he just hadn't been able to stay there alone for any length of time. She was everywhere around him there. He had been looking at some homes not terribly far from his old one because he honestly didn't want to have to find new mechanics that he could trust, but he just really didn't want to move. The house was well off the road and it wasn't a big place particularly. He didn't see the point since there would only ever be two there for any long term living arrangements. He had it custom built in the fifties and had since done some nice upgrades. Having that house kept him grounded, kept him from becoming an embittered hunter, and it helped keep him human. When things started to get to him or after a bad hunt, he would often retreat there for two or three weeks to regain his equilibrium.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. "I want to know when your birthday is…just because," he said with a shrug. "I'll get you a bottle of tequila or something." Sam chuckled and added, "And I really ought to check to see if our signs are compatible."

"So you like classic rock, old cars, and hunting. What else do you like? What's your favorite type of drink? Food? What do you do to unwind? I hardly know anything about you. Our…relationship…hasn't exactly been the type of one where you learn these things. I like tequila, coke, or coffee. Beer and wine will do, too. I like Italian food, and some of the classic Americana stuff. I like darts, sex, swimming, sex, target practice, sex, cooking, sex, and reading. Oh, and rescuing beautiful men from vampire nests. You're turn," Sam said with a grin.

Dean rolled his eyes but his expression remained amused when Sam said he wanted to know his birthday so apparently he could get him a “present”. Though Dean wouldn’t normally turn down the offer of free booze, unfortunately his birthday was already long past.

“Sorry, Dude. Too late.” He said, snorting softly when Sam mentioned checking if their signs were compatible, of all things. Well, he had lived through the hippy era…

Figuring Sam was just screwing around he merely rolled his eyes again and went back to watching the burning wood snap, crackle, and pop. The smell of the cooking meat had already been making his mouth water, and now his stomach was growling rather loudly. He snagged a few nachos to tide him over until it was done.

Apparently Sam wasn’t done though. What else did he like? Sam was asking him questions like this was… their first date or something… and Dean didn’t know whether to be amused by that or a little uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable because of Sam, not exactly, just… Dean didn’t date. The quickies and one night stands didn’t usually man a lot of conversation and usually not the truth. He didn’t do long term relationships. He didn’t even have any real friends, aside from Bobby. And as Sam began to list off the things he liked, maybe trying to see if Dean’s likes were “compatible” as Sam had put it, it was as though it all hit him at once.

Of course he knew how Sam felt about him. But he’d never really gone beyond that basic knowledge and thought beyond what it meant in just words. What it could mean if it went beyond what it already had been (aside from the life and death situations) just sex. Him and Sam. Together. Longer than a few weeks, or a few months. Hunting together probably. Living together…

Then again, what if they weren’t “compatible”? What if this whole vampire blood compatible thing was as far as it went? What if they stayed together for a few weeks or months or whatever and then figured out they really couldn’t stand each other? Sure they were both hunters so they had something in “common” but even that… having someone to watch his back, count on if things went south… or Dean could cost Sam his life, just like he’d cost his father’s his… he’d already almost did…

Dean realized he was staring at Sam with an unreadable expression and had probably been doing so for some time and he cleared his throat and looked anywhere but Sam. Hoping Sam thought it was just because of the whole offhand “beautiful” comment he rubbed the back of his neck a little self consciously.

“Um, yeah… classic rock, old cars, and hunting… that about covers it. Oh, and cheeseburgers. I’m easy, if its fried I’ll eat it.” He said, offering Sam a weak grin. The sad part was, it wasn’t that far from the truth. There wasn’t much else. He had his car. He had his music. He had the hunt. That was pretty much it, his whole life wrapped up in a twisted nutshell.

Sam studied Dean, watching the wheels turn. He sighed inwardly. A lot of hunters didn't have much of a life beyond the hunt. It obsessed them. The hustle, the credit cards scams, whatever it took to get that next box and ammo and next tank of gas. He was that way for awhile when he was hunting Jessica's killer but after a couple years of fruitless searching he stepped back and looked at his life. Jessica wouldn't have wanted that for him. Not that obsessed. He always considered himself as having three lives. The hunter, the vampire, the human. The hunter was all business, the vampire all about food, and the human…about having a little bit of a life.

He was tired of being alone. No one to watch your back, no one to drink with to celebrate a job well done, no one to stitch you up when you fucked up and got nailed by the big bad. He tilted his head, studying Dean anew. A little bit of fear. A little bit of discomfort. This relationship was starting off about as good as the one with Elizabeth. Nothing like being stuck in a cage for six weeks by your future wife. And that after being stuck in a nest for a week. Yeah, that was real fun. But, he supposed, it had all worked out in the end. He gave a slight smile. Who was he kidding? There wasn't a relationship other than that forged by their time with Vanessa. Before that, Dean had hated him for not killing him. Now, even after that, there was still the aftershocks of what Vanessa had done to them. They would both heal given time. Separately, apparently. He just had to make sure Jacob kept his fucking mouth shut around Dean.

"Lighten up. …I know you won't be staying with me. That's …okay. I'll deal. I wish you would, but," Sam shrugged, "I get it. I know more than my share about hunters and the lives they lead. No ties. Unless it's another hunter and then that's just for calling in for back up." Same gave him a faint smile. "I'm just trying to learn more about the guy I've be hanging out with for two or so weeks. Just feels kinda weird to not know anything about you after everything we've dealt with over those couple weeks. Hell, tell me stories about some of your favorite hunts. Whatever. Let's just deal with the now and worry about the later when it finally catches up with us. No matter what happens in the 'later' you are giving me your phone number. I need back up sometimes and would like to have another hunter to call who I know isn't going to try to cut my head off. Stab me, shoot me, whatever. But blades and necks just don't mix. Hmm, maybe I'll put that on a bumper sticker. If I see someone laughing, I'll know they're a vampire.

"Now stop thinking so much. You'd think you were a girl or something."

Sam turned back to the fire, leaving Dean to answer or not as he wanted to. He remembered telling Jacob if he lost Dean, he would just be done with 'life.' He could wait a few years, he guessed. When Dean was a little older and wouldn't connect the dots. What did a for more years matter at this point? And maybe he would meet someone else that made him want to go on…yeah. Sure.

Sam pulled out one of the cobs of corn and tugged back the shucks, practically burning his fingers in the process. Almost done. After putting the corn back in the fire he went ahead and pulled out the cans with the beans and set them aside to let the cans cool just a bit before he cut the tops off. He rotated the venison a little. Yeah, that was cooking up nice. It was going to be a good meal.

Shit.

Sam couldn’t hide how much Dean’s reaction had upset him any more than he had been able to hide the reaction that had caused it. Though the other man’s words as he told him it was “OK”, how he joked and told him to stop thinking so much, calling him a girl, were lighthearted he could see the sadness behind Sam’s eyes. The bitter disappointment…

Its hard to lie to a vampire, Sam’s words echoed through his head and he knew without a doubt Sam had picked up on the slight panic and unease Dean had felt at the idea of a possible “relationship” hanging over his head. A relationship that was already majorly fucked up, maybe beyond repair, and hadn’t even really begun yet.

Dean felt about ten inches tall.

He didn’t want to hurt Sam, damn it. That was the very last thing Dean wanted right now. But… he just didn’t know what to do. A part of him felt as desperate to keep Sam at arm’s length as he was to keep Sam near him right now. He remembered well the panic he’d felt at the mere thought of Sam leaving him alone for even a few minutes, not to mention what it had felt like when the other man had actually walked out the door… and here he was freaking out over a few questions, over the idea of… more…

How selfish could he really be? Sam had reassured him before that he wasn’t taking advantage of the other hunter for taking what he needed from him and giving little or nothing in return. Unfortunately Dean knew that was exactly what he was doing. Using Sam. Sam was keeping him from falling apart, from ripping at the seams, keeping him from being consumed by all the pain until there was absolutely nothing left of him. All he had given Sam in return was more heartache. More pain.

Dean would be a terrible boyfriend.

He barely stopped the bitter laugh that tried to escape him at that thought. It was certainly true. If he was fucking things up this badly now, just think how much more he could screw things up later on. Maybe he was acting like a girl. He blamed it on the general vulnerability he’d been feeling ever since they’d been captured by the damned vampires and everything that had happened.

Dean hated that feeling but he was afraid to face it. He was afraid to examine any part of it, because he wasn’t ready to deal with all of it. He’d been “dealing” so far by refusing to deal with it. He didn’t think he could handle that and all the complications that would go along with a “relationship” with Sam, and he didn’t even mean the part about Sam being a vampire. Dean had been fucked up before he ever met Sam, he was only more fucked up now. Sam didn’t need to deal with that.

Yeah, that was it… he was just so fucking noble… Dean sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair and over the back of his neck again. His fingers unconsciously brushed across the scar that had faded considerably but was still noticeably there running along his neck. The one he’d given to himself. He couldn’t help but think how much… easier… things might be right now if Sam hadn’t found him after he’d cut his throat, if he’d bled out and died in that bathtub. He wouldn’t have been captured by the nest again. Wouldn’t have been… again… Maybe even Sam wouldn’t have been caught by them, wouldn’t have been taken by surprise, wouldn’t have been hurt, because of him…

He wasn’t sure if Sam was waiting for him to answer anymore or not. Dean felt he should say something, Sam deserved for him to say something, but he just didn’t know what to say. His favorite hunts… anything… before his father had died he could say he’d had “favorite” hunts. The time his dad had taken him to hunt his first werewolf and then taken him to the bar afterwards used to be a fond memory. But now all those memories were tainted by the guilt he felt over his father’s death.

After his dad had died and the accident that had nearly cost him his own, the months spent in a hospital recovering, he didn’t have “favorite” hunts anymore. The hunt was just another job no matter what it was. Saving people, hunting things, family business… that was all that mattered. He knew his father would have wanted him to keep hunting, to keep searching for the thing that had killed his mother and kill it, and that’s what kept him going. Everything that happened between hunts was just so he could keep hunting.

The bars for hustling cash, picking up a cute blonde or brunet to blow off some steam. The diners for food and again the cute waitresses out back for taking the edge off the adrenaline edge after a hunt. His calls to Bobby and sometimes visits with the older hunter to stave off the loneliness slowly eating away at him from the inside leaving nothing but a dark hole.

He wasn’t noble. He was fucking scared. Terrified of filling that hole up with something only to have it ripped away again. Sam had said to him once he would still… love… him even if not for the whole blood mate mumbo jumbo but how could Sam love him when he’d just admitted he knew nothing about him? What if Sam started to “know” him and decided he didn’t even like him anymore much less love him?

Yeah, and there he went thinking again and what pleasant thoughts they were. He watched Sam tending to their meal, not ignoring him but obviously doing his best not to pressure him. He was grateful for that and at the same time he wished the other man wasn’t so damned accepting, because it was like he was letting Dean hurt him. Dean wondered exactly how much he could hurt Sam and the other man would just smile at him in that same understanding way with sadness in his eyes.

“January 24th. My birthday…” Dean finally said, certainly failing to find that same light and easy tone that Sam had earlier though he tried anyway. “So are we compatible?”

Sam heard Dean's heavy sigh. The young man definitely thought too much. Sam wondered what was bouncing around it that beautiful head of his. Probably how fucked up it would be to make love again, knowing full well your lover had fangs. Or that your lover was technically dead, no matter how hard he to tried to pretend otherwise.

No, dammit.

He told Dean to lighten up, told him to stop acting like a girl, and here he could feel the hint of tears trying to reach his eyes. Dammit. No. He was going to let this roll off his back. He was going to take the advice he had just given Dean. Live in the now. He pushed the tears and the loneliness back down, burying it as deeply as he could. Dean needed him to keep it together. It wasn't as if he were in the middle of a nightmare and needed Dean's comfort. This was fucking dinner and small talk. How did it get so emotional?

Because they were both still strung so tight from everything. Confused and scared and hurting. There wasn't anything but raw emotion for both of them at the moment. Maybe a few more beers, a good meal, maybe that would help. He really didn't relish the idea of sleep. Dean probably didn't either. He could stay awake a lot longer than Dean and Dean had let him sleep so he was better rested than Dean. Yeah, maybe he would put off sleep. Besides, one of them really ought to stay alert…just in case. Hell, he wondered if he would ever be able to sleep again without fearing he would wake up and Vanessa would be gloating gleefully over him.

No, he would not live that way. The bitch had to die.

If he accomplished nothing else before he himself died, he would nail her fucking ass to a tree. She was a threat to Dean, had killed his dear Jessica, and threatened Jessica's family and friends. He was going to relish cutting her head from her body. Truthfully he would enjoy letting the animal torture her the way the animal was always begging for him to do. Maybe this time he would. For what she did to Dean and to Jessica. Okay, and for himself too. The animal would be delighted.

His brow lifted when Dean finally 'fessed up to when his birthday was. January 24th. Sagittarius. Were they compatible? He contemplated for a minute. He had only been making a joke. Let's see, he was a Leo. Yeah. If he remembered right, yeah.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the young hunter and smiled. "Absolutely. A good match if I remember right." He turned back to the fire. "I think these are done. Don't want to overcook them. Pull out a couple plates."

While Dean dug out the plates Sam cut the tops off the still very hot cans with this knife. He poured the green beans out onto the plates, then pulled the wooden sticks out of the kabob, spilling the meat and onions and tomatoes onto each of their plates. "A feast fit for a prince," Sam said with a wink. "The corn is almost ready."

In spite of everything Dean couldn’t help but snort softly in amusement when the other man thought for a moment and then answered yes. The fact that Sam apparently knew the signs well enough for him to know what Dean was, not to mention which ones were “compatible” was rather hilarious.

“You are such a hippie.” Dean teased good-naturedly, chuckling softly. Then when Sam asked for the plates Dean turned and pulled a couple out of the bag that the other man had brought down with him and handed them over.

His mouth had already been watering from the delicious smells of the cooking food. Though in the last few minutes he’d pretty much forgot about his hunger, it was definitely back now, in full force. His stomach complaining loudly demanding the food his nose had been torturing it with, and he knew Sam had to be able to hear it too, much to his embarrassment.

Though by the time Sam was handing over his filled plate and Dean began digging into his meal “fit for a prince” he hardly cared about that anymore. It was amazing. He wasn’t a big venison eater, hamburger was his first choice, but he didn’t think he’d ever had meat so juicy and tender before. Probably because it was so fresh... ok maybe best not to think about that, but it certainly wouldn’t ruin his appetite.

“This is awesome.” Dean complimented. He even enjoyed the green beans and his father used to have to twist his arm to eat any kind of veggies when he was a kid. Maybe it was because they kind of tasted like beer from the cans they’d cooked in. Beer made everything better, Dean thought and chuckled softly in amusement as he leaned over to grab a fresh can to drink with his meal. He hoped he’d be able to get more than a little buzzed tonight, he certainly felt like he needed it.

"You should have seen me in the sixties. I was a hippie," he said laughing. "Tie-dyed t-shirts, long hair, everything."

He remembered those days with fondness. Those had been good years.

Sam chuckled to himself at hearing Dean's stomach complain that it hadn't been fed. Vampires' stomachs didn't do that. The stomach simply cramped up and hurt. Hurt like a bitch if it went empty too long.

He smiled at the way Dean's gaze was locked on the plate as Sam returned the now full plate to him. Dean really hadn't eaten much since they first ended up together. Since cheeseburgers and fried food were his favorites, he would make sure to watch for a decent diner when they pulled into town. He liked cheeseburgers, but really liked the bacon bar-b-que burgers with cheese. And onion rings, preferable the beer batter ones. Ice cream too…maybe the diner would have sundaes. He was a sucker for chocolate hot fudge sundaes. And it was rather nice that he wouldn't put on weight or have to worry about cholesterol or anything. His body could process human food with the help of the virus and just as he reluctantly dealt with the taste of animal blood, the virus seemed to reluctantly deal with the human food. He didn't get hungry for it, didn't need it, and it wouldn't sustain him at all, but he still enjoyed eating solid food.

Dean's compliment made his beam, dimples and all. "Thanks. Glad you like."

Sam dug into his own meal with almost as much enthusiasm. He checked the corn soon after he started eating and decided it was ready. He rolled the ears of the fire to let them cool for a few minutes. He finished off his own beer and pulled out another for himself. He absently counted the remaining beer. Certainly plenty for them both to enjoy but he would make sure Dean got the lion's share. Maybe it would help him sleep better. If they were leaving tomorrow, they didn't need to worry about saving any.

They ate in companionable silence for a bit and Sam finally rolled two cobs over to the young man while he took one for himself. He wished he had butter, but they would still be good without. He pulled back the shucks and took a bite. Mmm, quite tasty. The green beans came out damned good too. He would have to remember that trick.

Trying to imagine Sam the Badass hunter Cristo as a hippy almost made Dean choke on his food with laughter but thankfully he had plenty of beer to wash down what almost went down the wrong pipe. He wiped the amused tears from his eyes and looked up in time to catch the other man smiling at him like Dean had just given him a puppy or something.

It made his heart skip just a little and… what do you know, Sam had dimples to boot. Could he be any more adorable? Dean blamed his sudden flush and his thoughts to the momentary lack of oxygen he’d suffered a moment ago. Completely ignoring the inner voice that told him his brain hadn’t been deprived of oxygen for that long.

It wasn’t like he’d never noticed that Sam was cute before. Well, maybe not cute. He’d noticed he was hot. Noticed he was built like a brick shithouse. Noticed he had a really big… other things. But cute was kind of new.

Dean cleared his throat and turned his attention away from Sam’s dimples and back to his food. Wasn’t he just angsting a moment ago about how impossible a relationship between the two of them was likely to be and now he was getting all gooey inside over seeing Sam smile? Yeah, that wasn’t completely fucked up. But considering the way everything was so fucked up right now he really shouldn’t be surprised.

As Sam rolled him over two of the cooked ears of corn, Dean set his plate down in his lap and picked one up, ripping off the shuck and taking a bite. Damn that was good, and he wasn’t saying that just because he’d been starving before.

“If you’re trying to woo me with your cooking, it might just work.” The young man commented as he quickly devoured the best damn corn on the cob he’d ever had. Hell, maybe even the best meal he’d ever had in a really long time.

Dean's sudden blush surprised him. He loved it when Dean blushed. It was just so damned adorable. Was there a hint of interest in his smell? It was hard to tell with the smell of the fire so overpowering. Sam wasn't quite sure what made the young hunter blush and wished sometimes that telepathy was among the supernatural talents given to vampires. He would sure like to know so he could do it again. It was a blush in response to his smile he suspected, but Sam wasn't leering at him. He was just smiling. Hell, who knew. Best not to worry about it. When Dean turned his attention hurriedly back to his meal, the vampire smiled to himself a little. Yes, it probably was interest that he smelled. Not that Dean would probably act on it, but it still pleased Sam. Even if they didn't get together, it was …nice…to know Dean did have some sort of interest in him. He just wasn't going to try to read anything more into it.

The look on Dean's face after he took that first bite of corn almost had Sam laughing. It was practically a look of ecstasy. Sam nearly choked on his beer with Dean's words. If it were as simple as that, he would cook the young hunter up the best damned cheeseburger he ever had. French fries too, and even one of those deep fried apple pies like they used to have at McDonalds before the health craze. The new pies were good, but the old ones were fabulous.

"Really? I'll keep that in mind," Sam said, letting just a little desire elbow its way into his look. "And if you think this is good, just think what I can do in a well stocked kitchen. Lasagna, tacos, pizza, burgers spaghetti, not to mention steak. Sam Cristo draws the line at baking though. Too hard on my rep if it ever got out. I might do the pre-made cookie batter or frozen pies I guess. I've got this really great bakery near my house where I usually go to get my sweet tooth satisfied when I'm at home. I've only ever found a few other places that topped them and I've wandered into some posh bakeries, believe me."

There were so many things he wanted to ask Dean. How good was Dean's hearing? Did he get the vampiric enhancements? Sam suspected he did. How did his father die? The dream suggested it was an ugly death and seeing as how Dean blamed himself, Sam figured Dean's father gave his life to save his son. That's a noble death, but it sucks if you're the one who was left alive. The guilt could be pretty bad, and there was always the feeling that you didn't deserve it. No matter your self-esteem, someone giving their life for you…it was hard to deal with. Sam told his curiosity to go take a hike. Dean was laughing, was enjoying the meal, and seemed to be enjoying Sam's company. He wasn't about to ruin it with dark questions. Those would keep for another day. Or forever, if need be. The answers didn't really matter. He didn't want to think about tomorrow and returning to the real world either. He could be happy for a long, long time just sitting with Dean by an open fire and enjoying good food and light hearted conversation.

To be honest, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to think what Sam could do with a well stocked kitchen. Probably spoil him so much that he’d never want to eat takeout food again. He couldn’t help but laugh however when Sam said that he drew the line at baking. Yeah, the idea of Sam Cristo vampire hunter in a frilly little apron with flour smeared on his face was pretty hilarious.

“Like the fact that you were a hippy isn’t damaging enough to your rep.” Dean said, chuckling and then taking a few more bites of meat and green beans but he was quickly winding down much to his dismay. He really wanted to finish everything on his plate because it was so fucking good but he was getting full much quicker than he’d expected. The price of still not being fully healed, no doubt.

Of course with a full stomach and the three, or four, beers he already had, he was beginning to feel a tiredness settle over him as well. That and the fact that sitting up for so long was making his healing muscles throb a bit more uncomfortably the longer he remained upright made him just want to stretch out right where he was and close his eyes.

Never mind that he knew he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to sleep without bad dreams and that the hard ground certainly wasn’t going to be any more comfortable than the lumpy mattress upstairs. So, no, going to sleep right here and now was definitely not a good idea, but that didn’t stop the wide yawn from breaking free of him.

“How many beers we got left?” Dean asked, wondering how many he could suck down before he passed out.

He could see clearly that Dean must have conjured up some image of him baking. Probably two machetes hanging off his belt, cursing that he didn't have any salt for the cake, and so he went over to the window sill and scooped some up. Well…okay, so maybe he did do that once when he was trying to bake a cake for Jessica….That was one of his last attempts at baking. He sucked at it.

"Hey! A lot of hunters were 'hippies' back then. Hippies were easy targets for evil. All those bad acid trips you heard about didn't necessarily have anything to do with the acid. Claiming they saw a werewolf or vampire or shapeshifter, do you really think anyone took any of them seriously? And since they did not like cops, you had to fit in to get them to talk to you. Some of us just enjoyed it more than others."

Dean seemed to finally be slowing down on his inhalation of the meal. Seeing Dean's forlorn look at the half full plate of food almost made him laugh. Clearly Dean was getting close to stuffing himself. The food also seemed to be having its effect as the energy was rapidly draining out of him. That Dean had managed to get downstairs and stay up for as long as he had was just shy of surprising. Another good night of sleep and he ought to be feeling a lot more like himself though. 'Good' sleep was relative for both of them at the moment, unfortunately.

"About twelve," Sam told him, handing him another beer. If Dean had stuffed himself, odds were he wouldn't be able to drink all that many more beers without puking.

"You happy down here for the night or do you want to go back upstairs? I'm not sure if the ground isn't a little better than the musty mattress. And it smells a lot better out here than in the dusty room. I can go grab you a blanket if you want," he offered. Admittedly his paranoia really wanted him upstairs, watching out the window, but reality told him they were almost assuredly safe for yet another night. It was that 'almost' that worried him just a bit. Confidence was good. Over confidence was dangerous. But if Dean wanted to stay by the fire, he was certainly willing to do that.

Dean took the offered beer and popped the top, drinking a good portion of it and then belching loudly. Phew, ok he felt a little better now, though he definitely was not going to be putting away another twelve cans of beer by himself that’s for damned sure. He was stuffed, pleasantly so right at the moment, but if he ate or drank much more and it was going to be painful.

But when Sam asked him if he wanted to stay down here for the night, Dean felt tension trying to creep back into him, and he quickly shook his head. Coming out here while they were both awake and alert was one thing, but sleeping out here… no, he felt way too exposed, vulnerable, and no matter how tired he might be he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep out here. Anything could attack them out here, and not just the vampires they’d gotten away from. No, it would be much better

Though when he answered he tried to keep that nervousness and paranoia from his voice.

“Nah, let’s go back inside. Less bugs.”

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sam said at Dean's loud burp.

His question to Dean brought about an instant increase in Dean's heart rate and there was clearly fear in Dean's eyes as he quickly shook his head. His bravado about 'less bugs' almost made Sam tease him, but he thought better of it. He would let Dean 'successfully' conceal his fear. He was just as uneasy at the idea himself.

"Fine by me. I wasn't really crazy about being down here all night, but if you wanted to stay, I would have. You just let me know when you're ready to go in. We can go now or three hours from now. I'm in no rush, I just wanted to know how settled in I should get."

Finishing off his own beer, he pulled another one out and drank deeply. At least that little store had carried semi-decent beer and that he had thought to grab the twenty-four pack. He had to be sure to send them off some money first chance he got. Sam Cristo paid his debts. He was glad that he was wealthier than most hunters were and he hoped Dean didn't calculate out just how much Sam had spent on him what with the hotels and gas and food and all. He didn't want Dean to feel he owed him anything. He didn't.

He saw Dean shift a little uncomfortably. Sitting up this long was probably getting hard on him. He moved closer to Dean. "You look like you're beginning to hurt a little. If you want to stay down here a while longer, why don't you lean on me? I promise I won't get fresh with you," he teased. "Well, not unless you start it, anyhow."

Dean grinned a little when Sam said he would take his belch as a compliment. Well, in a way he should. That meal had been damned good. It was really a shame he couldn’t finish it and it was going to go to waste.

He began to relax once more when Sam agreed to spend the night inside rather than outdoors. Not that he thought the other man would insist against it since Sam had asked him what he wanted to do. Maybe he was just relieved that the vampire had let him get away with his “explanation” of not wanting to stay out doors, out in the open, even if it might be slightly more comfortable than going back inside the dusty room, with the half rotten floors they could fall through any minute, and the musty mattress with the broken springs that wasn’t much better than a medieval torture rack. Ok, so he was exaggerating, a lot, but still.

Maybe just he wasn’t all that ready to return upstairs so soon. It was nice out here, despite the fact that he didn’t want to spend the night out here in the open, but he knew they’d have to go in soon because he already felt rather sore just from sitting here this long. The muscles of his back had been aching for a while now and he knew they were going to start cramping up again soon if he didn’t lie down.

He was actually about to suggest to Sam they go inside now when the other man offered to let him lean back against him for a while. The other man’s promise not to get “fresh” with him making him chuckle softly.

“Alright. But if you start singing Kumbaya I’m gonna stake you.”

He saw the hunter relax immediately at his agreement to going inside. Sam couldn't deny he was enjoying the fire and was pleased if a little surprised Dean agreed so readily to his offer to lean against him. Damn, maybe he should have offered to get fresh with him. Get a few more beers into him, take advantage of him... He laughed to himself. Yeah, sure. That was just his style. Riiight.

He laughed outright. "Dude, if you heard me sing, no matter what it was, you would probably want to stake me. But I'm sure I could dredge up something even more annoying than Kumbaya. Frosty the Snowman? If I had a hammer? Star Spangled Banner? Amazing Grace? With my bad warbling, believe me, they would be annoying even if you liked the song. Lestat I'm not."

Pulling over some of the wood he fed the branches into the fire, then stacked up a few more piles of wood within reach. Keeping the fire small meant he needed to feed it a little more often. The fire appropriately stoked, he shifted himself over next to Dean, pulling the wood a little closer, then offered Dean his shoulder. He sighed softly when Dean leaned into him.

"There is nothing quite as nice as a cracking fire and warm body leaning against you," Sam said. "Of course, I'm biased. It's much easier to soak up your warmth than to try to keep my heart beating fast enough to keep myself warm. I'm lazy that way if given the opportunity to be. I hope you don't mind me taking advantage of you," Sam chuckled. Honestly though, the fact that it was Dean made it that much nicer. He breathed in the young man's scent and felt his own muscles relax just a little. It was really going to suck when they went their separate ways. No, he wasn't going to dwell on that. Just the now. Focus on just the now.

He had to resist the urge to stroke the man's hair or grasp his hand in his own. He really had to resist the urge to plant a light kiss on Dean's head.

Oh to hell with it. He planted a kiss there anyhow. "Okay. I lied. I had to get just a little fresh with you. I'll behave now."

Sam had Dean snorting with laughter again as he described his “bad warbling” as the other man put it, and somehow he found it even funnier that Sam knew about the whole “Interview with the Vampire” plotline. He didn’t know why, but something about a vampire reading bad fiction about vampires had him cackling. He might just have to try to get Sam drunk enough one day to convince him to do some karaoke. Dean had a feeling that could be used as blackmail material for years to come.

When the other man finally finished tending to the fire and moved closer to him, Dean didn’t hesitate leaning back against him. Yeah, it did feel a lot better than trying to sit up by himself and he certainly didn’t mind Sam “taking advantage” of his body heat that way, especially when he was kinda “taking advantage” of Sam in a similar way, using him as a back rest. Yeah he had to agree with Sam, it was pretty nice.

He chuckled softly when he felt Sam press a kiss to the top of his head and then apologize for it. Dean tilted his head back against the other man’s shoulder so he could look up at Sam.

“You just think I’m easy. I need at least a movie with dinner if you think you’re going to get to second base on the first date.” Dean joked.

When Dean tilted his head back, it was all Sam could do not to kiss those lips or melt in to those beautiful eyes. He did not realize he was holding his breath until the air rushed out of him as he laughed.

"Hey, I think that sumptuous dinner ought to count twice. I mean the beer is aged at least a couple weeks. And venison? Corn on the cob?" He smirked, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye. "Well if a movie will get me to second base, then that means first base is already earned and fair game."

Sam leaned down and planted a kiss so hot it smoldered on Dean's lips. He grinned. "Okay, a movie will get me to second base, huh? Okay, then watch that spot."

Holding up his hand so it was in a peace sign, a shadow was cast on the ground. "There once was a rabbit named Fred. Fred was a poor and lonely rabbit." Sam bounced his hand up and down making the shadow 'rabbit' move and look around. "He didn't even have a burrow. He could only afford a small little hole in the ground that was barely deep enough for himself…" At that point Sam broke into laughter. "Should I go on? It's Oscar material you know. Boy meets girl, falls in love, and boy bunny is carried off by a hawk and fed to its young in a grisly dinner. Girl rabbit sells the hole, goes to Hollywood and becomes famous as a Playboy Bunny. What do you think?"

Maybe Dean was a little more buzzed than he thought, because he found Sam’s negotiations of how far his meal should have got him really funny. Of course it was less funny when the other man concluded he had already earned “first base” and Sam leaned in to kiss him. Not less funny in a bad way, but less funny in a really fucking hot way.

Dean found himself relaxing back even more into Sam, melting was more like it from the sheer heat and intensity of the kiss, and a moan worked its way out of his throat before he could stop it. He willingly parted his lips for the hot wet tongue that immediately darted inside his mouth to explore him and it was so fucking good. Unfortunately he barely had the chance to really begin to enjoy it before the other man pulled away, leaving his lips wet and tingling for more and Dean panting a little like Sam had just stolen all the breath in his lungs.

His eyebrows rose a little in confusion when Sam held up his hand and told him to watch, then when it finally hit him Dean snorted so hard it hurt. Laughing, and ok maybe he really WAS more buzzed than he’d thought because it wasn’t all that funny, except that it was.

“I think that you enjoyed being a hippy just a LITTLE too much.” Dean teased, but the expression on his face as he leaned his head back once more against Sam’s shoulder was nothing but fond. Even when he reached up to cup the back of the other man’s head and pull Sam down into another heated kiss.

When Dean finally got it, the look on his face was priceless. Sam was laughing right along with the young man. It felt good to be just a little silly. They had had quite enough of serious thoughts and events. And maybe he was mildly intoxicated. Not a lot, but definitely a little. He really hadn't drunk all that many beers, but he drank them pretty quickly.

The accusation only made him laugh harder. "I did my share of recreational drugs," Sam admitted.

Dean's fond look made Sam's breath hitch. He let the young man guide him back into a kiss. As before, the vampire slipped his tongue into that hot mouth, investigating every spot, taking breaks to tangle their tongues together and to let Dean up for air. Sam groaned softly, shifting his arms to offer Dean better support. After sucking on Dean's lower lip, lightly nipping it, then sucking on it again, he ran his tongue lightly inside Dean's mouth and then sucked again. He felt Dean's tongue lick at his own lips and he parted them, welcoming the invasion. Having one hand free, he ran it under the flannel and gently stroked the hard muscles of Dean's chest and abdomen, glad Dean had left his shirt unbuttoned. He didn't move his hand any lower than the waistband of Dean's pants and he didn't tease the young man's nipples beyond rubbing them for a few seconds before going back to the long gentle caressing. There was absolutely nothing wrong with a little light making out. If Dean wanted more, Sam would happily oblige, but he wouldn't push for more. He would take his cue from Dean and let him decide how far he wanted to take it. Though he would enjoy planting a couple nice hickies on the hunter's neck, he definitely wouldn't do that unless Dean wanted to go further than second base.

The kiss was just as good as the last. Better even. Sam’s lips felt absolutely perfect, the other man’s tongue tasting and teasing within his mouth exploring him thoroughly as though they’d never kissed before. Dean couldn’t help but moan softly at the way the other man lightly nipped and sucked on his lips and when Sam’s lips parted at the sweep of his tongue Dean wasted no time returning the favor. Letting himself taste Sam’s mouth with the same slow deliberation. Caressing and twining with Sam’s, running over the roof of his mouth and his teeth. Even running lightly over the other man’s gums where he knew the vampire’s teeth were sheathed.

His fingers tightened a little in the fine soft hairs at the back of Sam’s neck when the other man’s hands slipped into his unbuttoned shirt. A low groan of pleasure becoming lost between them as Sam’s hands roamed over every inch of his chest. His breath hitching slightly and he nipped a little harder at Sam’s lips when the other man’s fingers played with his nipples.

It felt so strange, wanting to be touched this way. After he’d been… attacked… the first time he barely looked at a woman for months afterwards. In fact he’d only started “chasing tail” as his father had once put it again because he thought his Dad had suspected something was off about him. Not flirting with every pretty waitress, bartender, and so on everywhere they went. And it had been so much worse this time…

No, he wasn’t going to think about it and ruin this too. It felt good. It felt right. He didn’t care if it was wrong or fucked up, he didn’t care if it was because of the beer or the blood mate thing, he wanted it. He wanted the way Sam’s kisses, his touch, made him feel. He didn’t think he could… go all the way, or even much past this, right now, but that was ok. Right now he wasn’t in pain, right now he felt safe and… loved… and he wanted Sam to feel that too. He wanted to make Sam feel the way Sam was making him feel. Cherished…

“Do you… want to bite me?” Dean panted softly when their lips parted long enough for him to catch his breath a little. The last time he had let Sam drink from him it had been a life and death situation, but Dean still remembered how it had felt, nothing like when the other vampires had bitten him. Maybe he was a little out of his mind to be offering that, maybe he was playing with fire, or sending mixed signals (he hoped not), but if Sam said “yes” then Dean was more than willing to give him that. A part of him even felt excited… aroused… by the prospect.

Sam moaned into the young man's mouth when Dean's tongue ran slowly over his gums, putting light pressure on his fangs hidden beneath that flesh. He knew Dean had no idea how sensitive his teeth were to pressure. It was with some fair restraint that he kept his fangs withdrawn. He didn't want to scare the man with his teeth suddenly descending. Not after what they had been through. Surprises were bad. This was good. Dean certainly did not need any reminders of his abusers. This was so very good and he was not going to ruin it. Dean was a damned good kisser and ruining the mood was the last thing he wanted to do. His slowly hardening cock agreed whole-heartedly.

Sam traced out muscles with his fingers, traced across scars, and every time his hand lingered briefly on Dean's nipples he pulled such a delicious groan from him. Dean nipping at his lips turned him on that much more.

As they kissed Sam's heart rate was definitely climbing. When Dean broke their kiss he made a distinct sound of complaint. He reminded himself that unlike himself, Dean did have to breathe. He loved the way Dean's breath hitched, the way he panted, obviously enjoying this as much as Sam. Even more rewarding was that Dean's scent was now one of a lover. Not the bloodmate bite of pheromones, not the hot sharp tang of sexual desire. No, this was soft love, safety in each other's arms, precious and treasured. There was a little underlying fear. Perhaps fear Sam would push, which he certainly wouldn't. Perhaps fear that the memories of what they had so recently endured would come back to haunt them. They surely would, but he didn't want them to rear their heads now. He just wanted this sweet and gentle moment between them to last.

Gaping at Dean's offer, he hardly knew what to say. Did he want to bite Dean, sink his teeth into that pale thin flesh, taste the crimson river that pounded in the young man's veins? Hell yes! …and no. What if Dean freaked? He had offered, but was it because he felt he owed Sam something? That wasn't how Sam wanted it to be. Sam chewed on his lip, hesitant. He knew, if he went into this firmly attached to the idea he could not lose himself to the animal and that the bloodlust of the bloodmate could not take over, he ought to be able to keep a firm handle on it. Especially as he and the animal seemed to have greater respect for one another. This wouldn't be that different from when he and Jessica made love. He just had to remember they were stopping at second base unless Dean wanted more.

Sam's eyes drifted down to Dean's neck as he gave a nod, unable to stop the desire from showing clearly in his face.

"If it gets too much you tell me, okay? You want me to stop at any point, and you just say so," Sam told him. Seeing that Dean seemed to understand, Sam began kissing Dean again, then slowly trailed kissed down to the hunter's jaw and then down the side of his neck. He licked where the neck and shoulder joined, shivering a little as he felt the thrum of the pulsing blood under his tongue. As before, he changed his saliva, numbing the site as he sucked and licked, moaning as he did. When he knew Dean was numb enough, he gently sank his teeth into that flesh and tasted the trickle of blood. He left his teeth buried, working his jaw just enough to let trickles of blood tingle in his mouth as his tongue darted out licking up the precious drops. So long as he kept his teeth buried, there was absolutely no risk of drinking too much of Dean's blood. The wounds were sealed by Sam's own teeth. He noted absently that Dean's blood tasted of alcohol. It wasn't bad, but he much preferred Dean pure, not contaminated with beer or other things. Though with the flare of the bloodmate taste taunting him he really didn't care that much right now.

He had only been half hard before but his own blood quickly rushed to his cock, filling it. He pulled Dean to him and ran his hands over Dean's chest, ghosted across his injured back, and finally let his hand drift down to squeeze Dean's buttocks through his sweats.

The look on Sam’s face after he’d made his offer made him wonder if he shouldn’t have. Sam looked more than surprised by his question, his offer, and Dean couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He had just wanted to… give Sam something. To show Sam how much he did mean to him. To show Sam he trusted him. But it was more than just that though. It had felt right to offer. He wanted to feel… connected to Sam. Now he felt like an idiot, and was about to tell Sam to just forget about it when the other man finally spoke.

Dean nodded slightly in understanding, relief filling him at Sam’s offer to stop if it was too much for him. Not that he had doubted that Sam would but surprisingly he’d been afraid Sam would actually refuse his offer. God, that was so fucked up. Him being afraid that a vampire would refuse to bite him. He almost laughed, and was glad that Sam kissed him again before he could. Dean moaning softly into the other man’s mouth, his amusement forgotten in the rush of pleasure and anticipation that filled him instead.

His breathe hitched a little and he knew his heart was beating faster when he felt Sam’s lips trail down his jaw towards his neck but it wasn’t in fear. Dean closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side to give Sam a little better access.

The last time Sam had bitten him on the wrist. The way the vampire licked and sucked at his neck, knowing Sam was going to bite him there made him feel vulnerable and completely safe at the same time. He could feel Sam’s heart beating hard against his back. He could… smell… Sam’s arousal. And when Sam’s teeth finally sank into the soft flesh of his throat Dean couldn’t stop the low groan of pleasure that broke from his lips. The pressure, the feel of Sam’s teeth piercing his skin, the gentle licking… Sam might as well have been sucking on his cock because all the pleasure went straight there.

“Oh fuck…” Dean gasped, his head falling back once more on Sam’s shoulder, panting softly as the other man sucked. Arching a little into Sam’s hands roaming over his chest, feeling Sam’s hard cock against the small of his back when the other man pulled him even closer, and groaning again as those hands moved down to his hips, his ass. Dean reached back, his fingers once more tangling in Sam’s soft hair, holding the vampire in place at his neck. His other hand resting on Sam’s thigh, his fingers digging a little into the strong muscle, encouraging.

Christ, he was going to come in his pants just from the feeling of Sam sucking on his neck.

The groan he heard from Dean only inflamed his desire more and he bit a little harder and pulled his teeth out a little further, letting more blood flow into his mouth. If he could have, he would have laughed at Dean's hand "holding" him at his neck. Like he would let go before he was ready or Dean asked, which ever came first. Dean's hand on his thigh, squeezing, drew a fresh groan from him and he rubbed his encased erection against Dean's lower back, needing the pressure. He let his hand slide around from Dean's ass and stroked at the crease where Dean's leg and groin came together, not going any deeper into the groin area. Dean would have to lead him there.

Fucking second base. No touching flesh, only cloth. He longed to have Dean in his hand, to bring Dean to the peak, to drink greedily from him at the height of his orgasm, when his blood could hardly be more perfect. Sam's other arm held Dean close to him. As much as he wanted to simply pull Dean as close as possible, he feared hurting Dean. He wasn't sure how tender Dean's back was yet so he only held him as close as he dared, though it was still probably tighter than it should have been. Even so, he wanted to give Dean the choice and the control. Dean could press back against him, Dean could move his hand to Dean's groin, or Dean could do nothing. There should be no bloodlust controlling Dean this time. It should be all Dean, just as it was all Sam.

Even with their recent traumatic events, the thought of Dean riding him made him groan deeper. Yes, he would gladly bury himself inside Dean the way his teeth were buried in Dean's neck. The thought of Dean sliding up and down on his cock made him harder still, but Dean was surely a long way off from being ready for something like that, so Sam forced his growing lust down. Second base was fine. It had to be. That's what Dean wanted. So instead of growling, asking for more, he purred, a soft rumble in his throat. He wasn't really content to stop at second base, he wanted his hands all over Dean's bare flesh, wanted his lips, his tongue kissing and licking all of Dean's most sensitive parts. If Dean ever let him, he would have to show Dean the joys of being given a blow job by a purring or even growling vampire. Humming was pathetic next to the deep throated purr or more aggressive growl. Content meant no dry humping. Dammit. He still couldn't help the periodic pressing against Dean's backside, moaning into Dean's shoulder each time he did.

Dean couldn’t help but moan louder when he felt the pressure and suction at his neck increase. Fuck, he was going to have a mother of a hickey left on his neck when this was all over, not that he really cared one damned bit.

His breath began to come out in pants when Sam’s hand moved from his ass to his thigh, touching him so damned close to his cock it ached. His hips bucked up without him meaning to. He wanted that hand on him so damned bad, touching him, taking him out, and wrapping around him to bring him off.

He covered Sam’s hand on his thigh with his own. Unsure if he wanted to keep it there or guide it to where his body was begging for Sam’s touch. Dean was almost afraid that no matter how much he might want this if they moved forward too fast then he’d start to remember and… ruin this…

He didn’t want to ruin this. He wanted Sam to keep sucking on his neck, purring with pleasure and rubbing the hard proof of his desire against his back. He wanted Sam to keep touching him, keep holding him. He wanted to forget about all the pain and only remember this for the rest of his life.

Dean’s fingers threaded through Sam’s on his leg, and though it almost hurt him to do so, he pulled it away. He brought Sam’s hand up to his mouth, turning it over so he could press his lips to the hard pulse at the vampire’s wrist. He licked at the pale skin, sucked, feeling Sam’s rapid heartbeat against his tongue, he bit, almost hard enough to bruise… leaving his own mark on Sam as surely as Sam was leaving one on him.

Christ he was close… so damned close…

“Sam… god… I’m gonna…” Dean panted, moaned, and practically whined. Arching, he pressed his back against Sam, his hips bucking of their own accord at the same time. And that’s when Dean took Sam’s hand and pressed it to his groin. Rubbing himself against the other man’s palm and that little bit of friction was all he needed as he came with Sam’s name on his lips.

The way Dean bucked against his hand told Sam just how much Dean wanted it, or at least, his body wanted it. Whether Dean was ready for more was another matter. If Dean needed it and wanted it, he would guide Sam's hand there. Still, Sam couldn't help but encourage it by sucking in strong and steady pulses, simulating the rate he would use if he were stroking Dean's hard cock.

Sam purred a little louder when Dean's hand came to rest on his own. He sensed the hesitation and warring desires. He made no move of his own accord. It was fully up to Dean. But he rather hoped Dean would let him give him a nice hand job. The vampires had done plenty of that too, so if the hunter wasn't ready, Sam understood. He softened his purr a little when instead of leading Sam's hand to that needy groin, Dean's fingers entwined with his own. He purred encouragingly, trying to let Dean know that was perfectly fine.

Lifting his hand to his lips he expected a light kiss and was caught off guard when instead Dean's lips pressed against his wrist. Every lick of Dean's tongue, every long draw sucking on the skin there made Sam groan and he couldn't help pressing his cock at little more firmly against Dean, rubbing a little faster and a little harder. It wasn't going to take much to get him to blow at this point and Dean was getting him there fast. When Dean bit down hard on his flesh, Sam gasped, his own hips bucking but he wasn't quite ready to come yet.

With Dean's words of warning Sam sucked that much harder on Dean's neck. He didn't expect Dean to arch and suddenly press back against him. He didn't expect Dean to lead his hand back to Dean's groin. That hard erection pressed against his hand he had to stroke as Dean rubbed himself against his palm. He felt the tension fill the young man and knew it was time. He extracted his teeth and let the blood pour into his mouth, sucking hard as Dean cried his name, as he felt Dean come and as Dean bucked, pressing back against him with each pulse. Sam felt his own seed pour from him a few moments later, pulled from him by Dean's own orgasm. He took in the blood filled with adrenaline and endorphins and he felt another way of pleasure shake him as the taste filled his mouth. He sucked sharply as each wave shook him, feeling Dean's own shudders of pleasure. As the waves faded, his licked at the wound. Just as he could numb the wound, he could also slow the bleeding, making it clot. He licked tenderly at the wound, coaxing it to close up and start to heal, keeping out any risk of infection. When it finally stopped bleeding, he ran his tongue up Dean's neck to his jaw and nipped lightly along the jaw line and he moved his other hand up to Dean's stomach, rubbing it in small soothing circles.

"Ah, so you are easy," Sam chuckled into his ear. "So was it my cooking or the movie that did you in?"

Dean couldn’t help thrusting up against the other man’s hand squeezing his cock, shuddering hard and moaning in pleasure at each deep pull Sam took against his neck. He could feel Sam’s body shuddering as well. Dean could… smell the spill of Sam’s seed more than he felt it against his ass and lower back. Knowing that he had brought the vampire off without even really touching him directly only seemed to thrill and pleased Dean more. The fact that Sam had come from practically just drinking his blood…

Fuck… that was so damned kinky.

Dean was feeling more than a bit light headed by the time Sam’s sucking on his neck gentled into something less arousing and more soothing. The other man’s tongue licking gently at the wounds on his neck and fuck his skin was so damned sensitive there now, Dean couldn’t stop the aftershocks of pleasure from rippling through him. It was like Sam was licking at every nerve ending along his skin and not just at his neck.

He relaxed back against Sam’s chest, practically boneless in the other man’s arms, though he managed a soft snort of laughter through his breathless pants when Sam had the nerve to call him “easy” after all that. Dean responded by elbowing the other man lightly in the stomach.

“Bitch.” Dean muttered but there was no small amount of affection in the “insult”. He turned his head slightly to brush his lips against Sam’s that had been so close to his ear, whispering a more genuine response against the other man’s lips. “Just you.”