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runedgirlTitle:Black Is The Color Of My True Love’s Eyes (Ch 4/8)
Author: runedgirl (Lynsey)
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/demon!Dean
Warning: violent content
Word Count this chapter: 4500
Beta: My sexyboy![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pure_shite (Ashton). Thanks!!
Summary: Sam tried to thwart death in a desperate attempt to keep his brother human. Did it work or did heaven come between them the way hell never could? Sequel to the story Fade To Black - this one will make more sense if you read the original fic first. Previous chapters: Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
AN: Not a WIP – story is finished with 8 chapters and will be posted regularly. Feedback is adored and promptly savored.
They stop at a motel tucked into a wooded hillside, outside the sprawl of suburbia and looking like it doesn’t get much traffic now that there’s an interstate to replace the old truck route. Sam fell asleep somewhere on the other side of the state line, wakes up with his head pillowed on the demon’s lap and the demon’s hands nervously patting over the bandages on his belly.
Dean’s hands, Sam thinks sleepily. He puts one of his own over his brother’s, feels over the familiar rough spots, eyes still closed. The demon keeps his hand completely still, but Sam can feel the swell of his dick in his jeans against the back of Sam’s head, wonders how long they’ve been driving like this, Sam asleep and the demon hard beneath him. The thought is way more satisfying than it should be, Sam thinks.
He’s only half awake when Ruby comes back to the car with the room key, can’t even muster a protest when instead of trying to rouse him, the demon just swings Sam up into his arms and carries him bride-style into the room.
Ruby snickers when the door shuts behind them, something about that not being what the desk clerk was expecting. The demon doesn’t answer – of course he doesn’t -- just lays Sam out on one of the beds, pulls off his shoes and jeans and tugs the quilts up to his neck like he’s a little kid being tucked in for the night. It’s a feeling Sam remembers from lifetimes ago, Dean’s knuckles brushing his chin as he made sure the blankets were arranged just so. The demon strips off his jeans and climbs in beside him, slithers under the covers with bare feet nudging Sam’s and inches closer. Sam goes under with the warmth of Dean’s body pressed close against his side, the eight-decades familiar breathing next to his ear, the dull ache of his two stab wounds pulling taut with every breath.
* * *
He wakes to the intoxicating aroma of coffee, and god, he’s missed this. Simple things that he took for granted, the taste of coffee in the morning and the green of Dean’s eyes and the laughter of their children and grandchildren. For a few minutes, it’s sweet to finally remember.
The sun is streaming through a crack in the curtains, high in the sky already. Sam’s stomach rumbles hungrily.
“Gimme,” he mumbles, inching his eyes open, and the demon immediately hands him a steamy cup and graces him with a smirk. Black eyes instead of green bring Sam back to reality with a painful jolt, but the curl of his lip – Dean’s expression – warms Sam even more than the coffee.
“How’s the chest wound?” Ruby snarks from the bathroom. “Oh, and the fatal stomach one too.”
The demon growls at her. Sam feels lucky they didn’t kill each other while he was sleeping.
“Better.”
Actually, it’s true. There’s only a slight twinge of pain when he moves, a little more when he sits up and uses the muscles that were cut. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and rifles through the bags on the nightstand, extracting two chocolate frosted donuts and a half-eaten jelly-filled one.
“He ate the rest of the jelly ones before I could get the bag away from him,” Ruby informs Sam, with a glare at the demon.
Sam bites into a mouthful of frosting. “I like chocolate better anyway.”
Ruby scoffs. “Still the same, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter what he does, you’re still gonna take his side no matter what.” She looks half disgusted with Sam and half in awe.
Sam shakes his head, but his eyes dart to the demon, who ducks his head and starts gnawing on his bottom lip uncertainly. It’s another Dean habit, one the demon seems to have adopted in place of language to indicate a whole range of emotions that he doesn’t want to share. “Not no matter what.”
“Bullshit,” Ruby argues, but she shakes her head impatiently when she sees the demon’s expression, like she’s fed up with a recalcitrant child instead of enraged at a murderous demon. “The two of you, jesus.”
Sam’s suddenly overwhelmed with a fierce gratitude that verges frighteningly on something he could never admit to Ruby aloud. She did this. Made the spell work, found him on the other side of the world without the benefit of modern technology or any good reason to hope he was still alive. Found both of them. Brought them back together.
“Ruby, I don’t know how to –
That’s as far as Sam gets when Ruby cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t change the subject, Sam.” She slams the bathroom door and starts the shower before Sam can protest, but not before he sees her cheeks go pink, so he counts that as a win.
The room is quiet without Ruby’s critical commentary.
“You ever gonna talk to me?” Sam’s pretty sure he can, but the demon’s been silent other than gasping out Sam’s name when he first realized who he’d just mortally wounded or in the midst of humping Sam’s leg.
The demon has been watching him this whole time, though. He doesn’t look away now, even when Sam gets up and crosses the short distance between the two beds to where he’s sitting. His black eyes track Sam’s hand as he raises it to touch the swollen place on the demon’s bottom lip, the silky skin split by the bite of his own sharp teeth. Sam can feel the slight shudder the press of his fingertip causes, the way the demon’s shoulders tense and flex as he holds himself still.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
The demon blinks, black eyes flashing when he focuses them back on Sam, and he nips suddenly at Sam’s finger, teeth scraping at the first knuckle and then digging in hard when Sam tries to pull away, holding him there. Sam can feel the slick heat of the demon’s tongue tease the pad of his trapped finger, and his own breath hitches in response. Another sharp bite, and the demon lets him go. There’s a red indentation in the skin, warm under the chill of the wetness there, and Sam shivers.
Even without words, the demon’s pretty eloquent.
* * *
By the time they roll into Iowa that night, words are completely unnecessary for Sam to figure out they’re in trouble.
Ruby goes into the little out-of-the-way Handi Mart first to get them some supplies, leaving Sam in the car to keep an eye on an increasingly restless demon. He’s been jittery and on edge for the last two hundred miles, drumming his fingers against the windows, changing position so many times it’s driving Sam crazy trying to avoid flying elbows and boots, and interrupting any kind of music or conversation with growls and hisses of displeasure. He’s not used to keeping his hands to himself, not having them wrapped around knives and slicked in somebody’s blood and doing something. About once an hour, Sam wakes up from dozing off to find the demon’s fingers creeping up his thigh and bats him away irritably.
Not that Sam’s not doing some looking of his own. He took the bandages off his chest and stomach at the last gas station, the wounds healed to only a jagged red scar decorated with the black thread of the demon’s stitches. He’s feeling better, well enough to stare at the demon when he’s looking the other way, cataloging all the places on Dean’s body he used to know so well. The freckled tip of his ear where it curves into his short bristled hair, so sensitive that one swipe of Sam’s tongue would leave Dean shuddering and gasping. The soft flesh beneath his jaw, exposed only for Sam, for Sam’s teeth, thumbs, bruises. After a few hours of staring, Sam’s feeling well enough to have some lustful thoughts interspersed with more of the I’d-like-to-throttle-him variety. He might chance putting his hands on Dean’s body tonight, he thinks, calm the demon like sex always has.
Unfortunately, they stop at the Handi Mart before they get to a motel.
When Ruby doesn’t come out after ten minutes, they both start watching, skin prickling as hunter instincts kick in. They both know something’s wrong. The demon’s eyes are better, of course, so he moves first, Sam scrambling after him and yelling for him to get the hell back in the car. He knows they’re fucked when he gets close enough to see Ruby surrounded by three guys who think they’re big and bad enough to take advantage of a little slip of a girl like her. They’re wrong -- she could take them all out easily -- but she’s trying not to. Trying to talk her way out of this, so things won’t get violent and violent won’t bring the demon running like a cat to catnip.
Which, of course, it does. The first guy’s neck is snapped before Sam gets all the way in the door, just in time to see the body slump to the floor and the demon launch himself after the next man, whose eyes are open so wide he looks like a cartoon as he tries to scramble away. The demon reaches down to grab him with a roar, gets him by the throat and hauls him up the wall of canned goods, holding him so high his feet dangle uselessly, kicking out at the demon’s legs with all the efficacy of a fly trapped on flypaper.
“Dean!” Sam yells automatically, and the demon jerks at the sound of Sam’s voice, freezes with his hand around the man’s neck, ready to crush the fragile windpipe.
Sam stumbles over spilled boxes of cereal, tomato soup cans, loafs of bread, and the first guy’s body, and gets his own hand around the demon’s wrist. He doesn’t try to pull him off, just lays his fingers on top of the demon’s.
“Hey, hold on, okay?” Sam says, softly, moving up close behind the demon and letting his chest lean into the demon’s back. The demon’s fingers flex around the man’s throat and he gurgles and twitches, eyes rolling back in his head.
“Shh,” Sam whispers, right against the demon’s ear this time, “It’s Sam, it’s me. Just wait a minute, listen to me, okay?”
Sam can’t see any change in position, but the dangling man takes in a rasping gasp, so at least the demon’s not squeezing any harder.
“Okay, good, that’s good, ease up a little, just a little, that’s right,” Sam croons, like he’s talking to a wild mustang, running his other hand down the demon’s flank reassuringly. “No killing, remember?”
The demon stiffens in what feels like protest, and the man’s breath cuts off with an alarming silence.
“Everything’s okay now, Ruby’s okay, I’m okay,” Sam continues, forcing himself to stay calm. “I want you to let go now. Let him go.”
Sam presses closer, chest and hips against the demon’s back, and rubs his fingers back and forth slowly over the demon’s wrist. The demon shifts slightly, tilts his head into Sam’s cheek, and Sam kisses him on the throb of vein at his temple, whispers against his ear. “Let go, I need you to let go.”
There’s a thump as the barely conscious man falls to the floor, cans and bottles skidding over the linoleum and his heaving breaths echoing in the empty store. The third man is cowering in the corner, cheeks wet with his own tears and face screwed up in terror.
The demon turns into Sam’s touch, buries his face against Sam’s shoulder and inhales the familiar scent. He’s strung tight as a bowstring, muscles twitching with adrenaline and still itching for more fight. Instinctively, Sam brings his arms around to rub up and down the stiff stretch of his spine, and the demon bites down on Sam’s collarbone when he does, growling deep in his throat and pushing his hips up against Sam’s.
“Yeah, okay,” Sam says in what he hopes is a calming voice. “C’mon, gotta get out of here though, come back to the car with me.”
He keeps the demon pressed close and distracted as he walks backwards to the door, trying not to trip over the mess strewn across the floor. “Take out that camera,” he says to Ruby, nodding to the security setup in the corner, then shushes the demon again before he can raise his head and get a glimpse of the two men crawling behind the counter.
“C’mon, c’mon, get in the car with me, that’s right.” Sam uses his hands on the demon’s hips to keep him moving, eases them both out the door and across the parking lot. He scrabbles behind him for the door handle and lets himself fall into the back seat, the demon crawling in after him.
Ruby’s got the engine purring a minute later, doors slammed and tires screeching, and Sam can finally let out the breath he’s been holding, the death tally stopped at one instead of three, jesus. His stomach rebels at the image of the clerk with his head on at the wrong angle, eyes and mouth gaping as he hit the floor, but Sam pushes it away, forces himself to deal with the problem of the moment.
That problem would be the adrenaline-fueled demon, who’s got Sam pinned to the bench seat flat on his back as the demon crouches over him on hands and knees, still worrying at Sam’s shoulder with sharp teeth and barely restrained aggression.
“Easy, easy,” Sam tries, but the demon just bites harder, tugging at Sam’s shirt until the material starts to rip at the seam and breathing so hard in Sam’s ear it sounds like he’s tied to the train tracks and about to be split in two by an oncoming steam engine. That’s exactly what Sam’s pretty sure the demon’s after – splitting him in two -- and fuck, he doesn’t feel up to that, doesn’t know how badly the demon would hurt him if he managed to get his dick where he clearly wants it.
The demon bites down again, hard, breaking the skin this time. It hurts like a bitch, and Sam grabs his head without thinking, yanking him up and off. The demon hisses angrily, but before he can get his teeth around some other body part, Sam leans up and kisses him, licking at the soft full lips, into the demon’s hot wet mouth. The demon doesn’t kiss back, just holds himself rigid as Sam tries to lure him down with lots of tongue. Kissing is clearly something that hasn’t been in his repertoire for a long time, maybe something he doesn’t remember.
But Sam remembers. Come on, come on, Sam’s chanting in his head, suddenly desperate for a response. He shifts his hips up as much as he can, but the demon’s frozen above him, unresponsive, and Sam has the sudden horrible thought that maybe he doesn’t want it like this anymore, doesn’t want Sam as an equal – as a lover. Only wants a warm submissive body to get off against. He remembers kissing Dean, the way he quivered and moaned and opened for Sam’s mouth, soft sighs of pleasure as he suckled Sam’s tongue, and god, Sam wants that again. He can’t hold back a whimper of frustration, and the sound makes the demon jerk his head up sharply like he just woke up from a dream and doesn’t quite have his bearings, pulling his still tightly pursed lips away from Sam completely.
“C’mon,” Sam breathes beneath him, surprised by the emotion in his own voice. “Kiss me.” The demon’s black eyes widen and he growls in reply, his mouth crashing over Sam’s as the full weight of his muscular body presses Sam to the seat, and yeah, that’s more like it.
The kiss is sloppy, Sam using his teeth to bite at the demon’s swollen lips, spreading the copper taste of their shared blood between them, and the demon groans into Sam’s mouth, grinds his cock down against the bone of Sam’s hip through their jeans. He gets one hand tangled in Sam’s hair and grips tight enough to bring tears to Sam’s eyes, controlling the kiss as he pins Sam to the seat with his hips. Sam tries to gentle the kiss, but the demon’s having none of it, mouth and hands and cock rough and demanding, the vulnerability Dean used to offer up to Sam dead and gone. Sam misses it, maybe needs it, remembering the way Dean would spread for him at the first touch of Sam’s hand nudging the inside of his thigh, how he’d beg for Sam’s cock with wild green eyes and his mouth and ass so hungry. Sam lets the demon bruise his mouth as he works his hand down the back of the demon’s jeans, fingers sliding down the sweat-moist crack to find the tightly clenched opening, then pressing inside rough and sudden, without warning. He slides into the damp heat more quickly than he expects, the demon’s muscles lax and caught off guard, rough skin scraping a burn that has to be painful. Sure enough, the demon breaks the kiss and raises his head to howl, but it’s more pleasure than pain, and he swivels his hips and clenches his ass not to push Sam out but to draw him further in, shifting to spread his knees wider, and yeah. That’s what Sam’s been wanting.
When Sam looks up, the demon’s eyes are heavy lidded with lust, his swollen mouth lush and wet, and Sam realizes with a mixed up stab of guilt and relief and surprise that he’s hard too, in spite of the violence they just left behind them. How can he help it, with the image of a debauched Dean hovering above him, fucking himself desperately on Sam’s fingers and making the kind of unrestrained noises that are too over the top even for pornos. Sam brings his other hand up to the demon’s mouth and pushes inside in wordless demand, and the demon sucks obediently, his teeth biting at the knuckles as he snarls around Sam’s fingers, saliva slicking his chin and dribbling onto Sam’s chest.
“So fucking dirty,” Sam groans, and the demon bites down harder. Sam’s other hand is working him open roughly, like it’s a competition to see who will break first. The demon rocks his whole body into it, back and forth with a rhythm they both feel in their blood, growling and slurping on Sam’s fingers in his mouth and bearing down on Sam’s fingers in his ass, and jesus, it’s Sam who can’t take it anymore. He pulls both hands free at the same time, to renewed howls of protest.
“Get your pants all the way off then, if you want it so bad,” Sam orders, flushed and aching himself. He’s entirely unsure who wants it more at this point, because it seems the demon still comes apart when Sam gets inside him, and Sam needs to feel it. He barely has time to blink before he has Dean’s beautiful body naked on top of him, shirt and jeans and boots clunking against the seat backs and floor and the demon popping the button of Sam’s fly and tugging down the zipper so fast he nearly snags Sam’s dick in the process. He gets it in his mouth as soon as it’s free, sucking so hard Sam nearly comes off the seat with the rush of pleasure, the demon’s constant growls sending vibrations rocketing through him as he gets Sam wet and drives him crazy.
Luckily he gets impatient quickly, releasing Sam before he loses it and getting up onto his knees to straddle Sam’s hips again. Naked, his sweat-sheened body gleaming in the moonlight as they race along the highway, the demon reaches down to get his hand around Sam’s cock, jerks it until it slides easy through his fist and then breaches himself in one quick motion that makes Sam’s vision blur with the rush of intense sensation.
“Fuck,” Ruby curses from the front seat, and the car jerks so quickly to the left that the demon almost falls off Sam’s dick and onto the floor. He yelps and snarls at her, but manages to tighten his knees around Sam’s hips and steady himself with one foot on the floor. Sam turns to catch Ruby’s eyes in the rearview, pupils so blown she looks like her demon-self, one hand gripping too tight on the wheel.
The demon growls and pants and whines like a wildcat as he rides Sam’s dick, hard muscles of his thighs standing out and flat belly rolling with his harsh breaths as he moves up and down, sinuous with a rhythm that’s pulling Sam right along with him. His cock is red and thick and fucking gorgeous, bobbing against his stomach, slick at the tip, and god, Sam can’t see anything but Dean, the familiar need in his brother’s face, fine brows drawn together in agony-ecstacy, lips pulled back in an almost-grimace. He reaches for Dean’s dick and it’s hot and wet in his hand, silky soft over hard as steel, and Sam pulls only twice before he shoots, splattering Sam’s chest, slicking his fingers. Dean’s ass clenches around Sam tightly as he comes, and Sam follows him over, the demon still moving on him, the pleasure drawing out until it’s closer to pain and Sam pushes him off with a groan.
They separate with a filthy sound, one that makes Ruby smirk in the mirror and then slam her fist against the wheel with a curse under her breath.
The demon rolls half onto the floor and lies there naked and sated, sweat glistening on his skin in the reflected glow of streetlamps and moonlight. His eyes are closed, long lashes fanned against flushed cheeks, and Sam’s heart lurches painfully for want of his brother.
“Looks like you got the short end of that stick,” Ruby scoffs, and Sam raises himself on his elbows to survey the mess already getting sticky on his torn shirt and caught in the trail of hair on his belly. The demon opens his black eyes and smirks at her, one corner of his mouth curling up, half pleased and half threatening, and Sam turns away wishing they were green.
The demon’s quiet for the rest of the ride to the motel, almost docile when Ruby tells them to wait in the car while she gets them a room. He lets Sam herd him inside and doesn’t growl when Ruby claims first shower and Sam orders them a pizza. He’s not sure he can eat with the image of a dead man still burned onto his retinas, but the demons will be hungry, and Sam knows he needs his strength to do this. He can’t quite suppress a sigh when he hangs up the phone.
“I’ve got next shower,” Sam announces, standing to peel his crusty shirt over his head and wincing when it catches on his not quite fully healed stitches. He expects a snarl in reply, but instead the demon gets up and comes to stand in front of him, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to pull it off with surprising gentleness and tossing it to the floor. It feels like a million years ago, when Sam was just starting a growth spurt and Dean used to call him an orangutan as he tangled himself up in his sleeves and whined until his big brother came to rescue him, exacting payback in a few surreptitious tickles to Sam’s ribs while his arms were still occupied.
The demon who looks just like Dean is staring at him when the shirt’s discarded, his eyes impossible to read, just bottomless pits of inky blackness. Bottomless like Sam’s stomach feels when he remembers the murdered man half-buried in soda cans and jars of mayonnaise. It’s horrible to feel this way again, like he did sixty years ago when Dean came back from hell the first time, and Sam wonders if anyone can manage a feat like that twice.
The demon cocks his head to the side just slightly, licks his lips. Sam’s about to turn away from the black-eyed scrutiny when he feels the brush of the demon’s fingers over his own. Tentative, nothing like the possessive way the demon’s touched him for the past few days. Sam doesn’t move, waiting. Hoping even though it feels like a fruitless, stupid thing to do, too childish for a man in his eighties to cling to.
The demon slips his fingers past Sam’s, entwines them loosely, and Sam can feel the energy between them, palpable like it always is, making him long for his brother’s touch, his brother’s eyes. He clasps the demon’s fingers without thought, their hands sliding together into a familiar grip. Sam tells himself it’s nothing, that procedural memory is the last to go.
Behind the bathroom door, the shower shuts off, and Sam moves to pull his hand away. He’s surprised to feel the demon’s grip tighten and opens his mouth to protest, but goes quiet when he sees the twitch of muscle in the demon’s cheek, the slight tremble of his chin.
“Sam,” the demon rasps, the name forced out in a growl, and Sam squeezes the hand still clasped in his own. He doesn’t need the green of Dean’s eyes to see the anguish on the demon’s face – can feel it now, heavy and painful between them. “Sam, I – ”
He stops, biting down on his bottom lip so hard it splits again, droplet of bright red standing out in the middle of the full bow of his mouth. “Sam,” he says again, nearly crushing Sam’s hand.
“I know,” Sam answers, though he doesn’t, not really. But the demon’s trying to tell him something, and Sam desperately wants to hear it, hear more of it. He pulls on their clasped hands to bring them closer, and the demon leans against him, burying his face against Sam’s shoulder and breathing him in as Sam strokes the back of his neck, tickling through the fine hairs there. “I know.”
Chapter Five
Author: runedgirl (Lynsey)
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/demon!Dean
Warning: violent content
Word Count this chapter: 4500
Beta: My sexyboy
pure_shite (Ashton). Thanks!!Summary: Sam tried to thwart death in a desperate attempt to keep his brother human. Did it work or did heaven come between them the way hell never could? Sequel to the story Fade To Black - this one will make more sense if you read the original fic first. Previous chapters: Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
AN: Not a WIP – story is finished with 8 chapters and will be posted regularly. Feedback is adored and promptly savored.
They stop at a motel tucked into a wooded hillside, outside the sprawl of suburbia and looking like it doesn’t get much traffic now that there’s an interstate to replace the old truck route. Sam fell asleep somewhere on the other side of the state line, wakes up with his head pillowed on the demon’s lap and the demon’s hands nervously patting over the bandages on his belly.
Dean’s hands, Sam thinks sleepily. He puts one of his own over his brother’s, feels over the familiar rough spots, eyes still closed. The demon keeps his hand completely still, but Sam can feel the swell of his dick in his jeans against the back of Sam’s head, wonders how long they’ve been driving like this, Sam asleep and the demon hard beneath him. The thought is way more satisfying than it should be, Sam thinks.
He’s only half awake when Ruby comes back to the car with the room key, can’t even muster a protest when instead of trying to rouse him, the demon just swings Sam up into his arms and carries him bride-style into the room.
Ruby snickers when the door shuts behind them, something about that not being what the desk clerk was expecting. The demon doesn’t answer – of course he doesn’t -- just lays Sam out on one of the beds, pulls off his shoes and jeans and tugs the quilts up to his neck like he’s a little kid being tucked in for the night. It’s a feeling Sam remembers from lifetimes ago, Dean’s knuckles brushing his chin as he made sure the blankets were arranged just so. The demon strips off his jeans and climbs in beside him, slithers under the covers with bare feet nudging Sam’s and inches closer. Sam goes under with the warmth of Dean’s body pressed close against his side, the eight-decades familiar breathing next to his ear, the dull ache of his two stab wounds pulling taut with every breath.
* * *
He wakes to the intoxicating aroma of coffee, and god, he’s missed this. Simple things that he took for granted, the taste of coffee in the morning and the green of Dean’s eyes and the laughter of their children and grandchildren. For a few minutes, it’s sweet to finally remember.
The sun is streaming through a crack in the curtains, high in the sky already. Sam’s stomach rumbles hungrily.
“Gimme,” he mumbles, inching his eyes open, and the demon immediately hands him a steamy cup and graces him with a smirk. Black eyes instead of green bring Sam back to reality with a painful jolt, but the curl of his lip – Dean’s expression – warms Sam even more than the coffee.
“How’s the chest wound?” Ruby snarks from the bathroom. “Oh, and the fatal stomach one too.”
The demon growls at her. Sam feels lucky they didn’t kill each other while he was sleeping.
“Better.”
Actually, it’s true. There’s only a slight twinge of pain when he moves, a little more when he sits up and uses the muscles that were cut. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and rifles through the bags on the nightstand, extracting two chocolate frosted donuts and a half-eaten jelly-filled one.
“He ate the rest of the jelly ones before I could get the bag away from him,” Ruby informs Sam, with a glare at the demon.
Sam bites into a mouthful of frosting. “I like chocolate better anyway.”
Ruby scoffs. “Still the same, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter what he does, you’re still gonna take his side no matter what.” She looks half disgusted with Sam and half in awe.
Sam shakes his head, but his eyes dart to the demon, who ducks his head and starts gnawing on his bottom lip uncertainly. It’s another Dean habit, one the demon seems to have adopted in place of language to indicate a whole range of emotions that he doesn’t want to share. “Not no matter what.”
“Bullshit,” Ruby argues, but she shakes her head impatiently when she sees the demon’s expression, like she’s fed up with a recalcitrant child instead of enraged at a murderous demon. “The two of you, jesus.”
Sam’s suddenly overwhelmed with a fierce gratitude that verges frighteningly on something he could never admit to Ruby aloud. She did this. Made the spell work, found him on the other side of the world without the benefit of modern technology or any good reason to hope he was still alive. Found both of them. Brought them back together.
“Ruby, I don’t know how to –
That’s as far as Sam gets when Ruby cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t change the subject, Sam.” She slams the bathroom door and starts the shower before Sam can protest, but not before he sees her cheeks go pink, so he counts that as a win.
The room is quiet without Ruby’s critical commentary.
“You ever gonna talk to me?” Sam’s pretty sure he can, but the demon’s been silent other than gasping out Sam’s name when he first realized who he’d just mortally wounded or in the midst of humping Sam’s leg.
The demon has been watching him this whole time, though. He doesn’t look away now, even when Sam gets up and crosses the short distance between the two beds to where he’s sitting. His black eyes track Sam’s hand as he raises it to touch the swollen place on the demon’s bottom lip, the silky skin split by the bite of his own sharp teeth. Sam can feel the slight shudder the press of his fingertip causes, the way the demon’s shoulders tense and flex as he holds himself still.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
The demon blinks, black eyes flashing when he focuses them back on Sam, and he nips suddenly at Sam’s finger, teeth scraping at the first knuckle and then digging in hard when Sam tries to pull away, holding him there. Sam can feel the slick heat of the demon’s tongue tease the pad of his trapped finger, and his own breath hitches in response. Another sharp bite, and the demon lets him go. There’s a red indentation in the skin, warm under the chill of the wetness there, and Sam shivers.
Even without words, the demon’s pretty eloquent.
* * *
By the time they roll into Iowa that night, words are completely unnecessary for Sam to figure out they’re in trouble.
Ruby goes into the little out-of-the-way Handi Mart first to get them some supplies, leaving Sam in the car to keep an eye on an increasingly restless demon. He’s been jittery and on edge for the last two hundred miles, drumming his fingers against the windows, changing position so many times it’s driving Sam crazy trying to avoid flying elbows and boots, and interrupting any kind of music or conversation with growls and hisses of displeasure. He’s not used to keeping his hands to himself, not having them wrapped around knives and slicked in somebody’s blood and doing something. About once an hour, Sam wakes up from dozing off to find the demon’s fingers creeping up his thigh and bats him away irritably.
Not that Sam’s not doing some looking of his own. He took the bandages off his chest and stomach at the last gas station, the wounds healed to only a jagged red scar decorated with the black thread of the demon’s stitches. He’s feeling better, well enough to stare at the demon when he’s looking the other way, cataloging all the places on Dean’s body he used to know so well. The freckled tip of his ear where it curves into his short bristled hair, so sensitive that one swipe of Sam’s tongue would leave Dean shuddering and gasping. The soft flesh beneath his jaw, exposed only for Sam, for Sam’s teeth, thumbs, bruises. After a few hours of staring, Sam’s feeling well enough to have some lustful thoughts interspersed with more of the I’d-like-to-throttle-him variety. He might chance putting his hands on Dean’s body tonight, he thinks, calm the demon like sex always has.
Unfortunately, they stop at the Handi Mart before they get to a motel.
When Ruby doesn’t come out after ten minutes, they both start watching, skin prickling as hunter instincts kick in. They both know something’s wrong. The demon’s eyes are better, of course, so he moves first, Sam scrambling after him and yelling for him to get the hell back in the car. He knows they’re fucked when he gets close enough to see Ruby surrounded by three guys who think they’re big and bad enough to take advantage of a little slip of a girl like her. They’re wrong -- she could take them all out easily -- but she’s trying not to. Trying to talk her way out of this, so things won’t get violent and violent won’t bring the demon running like a cat to catnip.
Which, of course, it does. The first guy’s neck is snapped before Sam gets all the way in the door, just in time to see the body slump to the floor and the demon launch himself after the next man, whose eyes are open so wide he looks like a cartoon as he tries to scramble away. The demon reaches down to grab him with a roar, gets him by the throat and hauls him up the wall of canned goods, holding him so high his feet dangle uselessly, kicking out at the demon’s legs with all the efficacy of a fly trapped on flypaper.
“Dean!” Sam yells automatically, and the demon jerks at the sound of Sam’s voice, freezes with his hand around the man’s neck, ready to crush the fragile windpipe.
Sam stumbles over spilled boxes of cereal, tomato soup cans, loafs of bread, and the first guy’s body, and gets his own hand around the demon’s wrist. He doesn’t try to pull him off, just lays his fingers on top of the demon’s.
“Hey, hold on, okay?” Sam says, softly, moving up close behind the demon and letting his chest lean into the demon’s back. The demon’s fingers flex around the man’s throat and he gurgles and twitches, eyes rolling back in his head.
“Shh,” Sam whispers, right against the demon’s ear this time, “It’s Sam, it’s me. Just wait a minute, listen to me, okay?”
Sam can’t see any change in position, but the dangling man takes in a rasping gasp, so at least the demon’s not squeezing any harder.
“Okay, good, that’s good, ease up a little, just a little, that’s right,” Sam croons, like he’s talking to a wild mustang, running his other hand down the demon’s flank reassuringly. “No killing, remember?”
The demon stiffens in what feels like protest, and the man’s breath cuts off with an alarming silence.
“Everything’s okay now, Ruby’s okay, I’m okay,” Sam continues, forcing himself to stay calm. “I want you to let go now. Let him go.”
Sam presses closer, chest and hips against the demon’s back, and rubs his fingers back and forth slowly over the demon’s wrist. The demon shifts slightly, tilts his head into Sam’s cheek, and Sam kisses him on the throb of vein at his temple, whispers against his ear. “Let go, I need you to let go.”
There’s a thump as the barely conscious man falls to the floor, cans and bottles skidding over the linoleum and his heaving breaths echoing in the empty store. The third man is cowering in the corner, cheeks wet with his own tears and face screwed up in terror.
The demon turns into Sam’s touch, buries his face against Sam’s shoulder and inhales the familiar scent. He’s strung tight as a bowstring, muscles twitching with adrenaline and still itching for more fight. Instinctively, Sam brings his arms around to rub up and down the stiff stretch of his spine, and the demon bites down on Sam’s collarbone when he does, growling deep in his throat and pushing his hips up against Sam’s.
“Yeah, okay,” Sam says in what he hopes is a calming voice. “C’mon, gotta get out of here though, come back to the car with me.”
He keeps the demon pressed close and distracted as he walks backwards to the door, trying not to trip over the mess strewn across the floor. “Take out that camera,” he says to Ruby, nodding to the security setup in the corner, then shushes the demon again before he can raise his head and get a glimpse of the two men crawling behind the counter.
“C’mon, c’mon, get in the car with me, that’s right.” Sam uses his hands on the demon’s hips to keep him moving, eases them both out the door and across the parking lot. He scrabbles behind him for the door handle and lets himself fall into the back seat, the demon crawling in after him.
Ruby’s got the engine purring a minute later, doors slammed and tires screeching, and Sam can finally let out the breath he’s been holding, the death tally stopped at one instead of three, jesus. His stomach rebels at the image of the clerk with his head on at the wrong angle, eyes and mouth gaping as he hit the floor, but Sam pushes it away, forces himself to deal with the problem of the moment.
That problem would be the adrenaline-fueled demon, who’s got Sam pinned to the bench seat flat on his back as the demon crouches over him on hands and knees, still worrying at Sam’s shoulder with sharp teeth and barely restrained aggression.
“Easy, easy,” Sam tries, but the demon just bites harder, tugging at Sam’s shirt until the material starts to rip at the seam and breathing so hard in Sam’s ear it sounds like he’s tied to the train tracks and about to be split in two by an oncoming steam engine. That’s exactly what Sam’s pretty sure the demon’s after – splitting him in two -- and fuck, he doesn’t feel up to that, doesn’t know how badly the demon would hurt him if he managed to get his dick where he clearly wants it.
The demon bites down again, hard, breaking the skin this time. It hurts like a bitch, and Sam grabs his head without thinking, yanking him up and off. The demon hisses angrily, but before he can get his teeth around some other body part, Sam leans up and kisses him, licking at the soft full lips, into the demon’s hot wet mouth. The demon doesn’t kiss back, just holds himself rigid as Sam tries to lure him down with lots of tongue. Kissing is clearly something that hasn’t been in his repertoire for a long time, maybe something he doesn’t remember.
But Sam remembers. Come on, come on, Sam’s chanting in his head, suddenly desperate for a response. He shifts his hips up as much as he can, but the demon’s frozen above him, unresponsive, and Sam has the sudden horrible thought that maybe he doesn’t want it like this anymore, doesn’t want Sam as an equal – as a lover. Only wants a warm submissive body to get off against. He remembers kissing Dean, the way he quivered and moaned and opened for Sam’s mouth, soft sighs of pleasure as he suckled Sam’s tongue, and god, Sam wants that again. He can’t hold back a whimper of frustration, and the sound makes the demon jerk his head up sharply like he just woke up from a dream and doesn’t quite have his bearings, pulling his still tightly pursed lips away from Sam completely.
“C’mon,” Sam breathes beneath him, surprised by the emotion in his own voice. “Kiss me.” The demon’s black eyes widen and he growls in reply, his mouth crashing over Sam’s as the full weight of his muscular body presses Sam to the seat, and yeah, that’s more like it.
The kiss is sloppy, Sam using his teeth to bite at the demon’s swollen lips, spreading the copper taste of their shared blood between them, and the demon groans into Sam’s mouth, grinds his cock down against the bone of Sam’s hip through their jeans. He gets one hand tangled in Sam’s hair and grips tight enough to bring tears to Sam’s eyes, controlling the kiss as he pins Sam to the seat with his hips. Sam tries to gentle the kiss, but the demon’s having none of it, mouth and hands and cock rough and demanding, the vulnerability Dean used to offer up to Sam dead and gone. Sam misses it, maybe needs it, remembering the way Dean would spread for him at the first touch of Sam’s hand nudging the inside of his thigh, how he’d beg for Sam’s cock with wild green eyes and his mouth and ass so hungry. Sam lets the demon bruise his mouth as he works his hand down the back of the demon’s jeans, fingers sliding down the sweat-moist crack to find the tightly clenched opening, then pressing inside rough and sudden, without warning. He slides into the damp heat more quickly than he expects, the demon’s muscles lax and caught off guard, rough skin scraping a burn that has to be painful. Sure enough, the demon breaks the kiss and raises his head to howl, but it’s more pleasure than pain, and he swivels his hips and clenches his ass not to push Sam out but to draw him further in, shifting to spread his knees wider, and yeah. That’s what Sam’s been wanting.
When Sam looks up, the demon’s eyes are heavy lidded with lust, his swollen mouth lush and wet, and Sam realizes with a mixed up stab of guilt and relief and surprise that he’s hard too, in spite of the violence they just left behind them. How can he help it, with the image of a debauched Dean hovering above him, fucking himself desperately on Sam’s fingers and making the kind of unrestrained noises that are too over the top even for pornos. Sam brings his other hand up to the demon’s mouth and pushes inside in wordless demand, and the demon sucks obediently, his teeth biting at the knuckles as he snarls around Sam’s fingers, saliva slicking his chin and dribbling onto Sam’s chest.
“So fucking dirty,” Sam groans, and the demon bites down harder. Sam’s other hand is working him open roughly, like it’s a competition to see who will break first. The demon rocks his whole body into it, back and forth with a rhythm they both feel in their blood, growling and slurping on Sam’s fingers in his mouth and bearing down on Sam’s fingers in his ass, and jesus, it’s Sam who can’t take it anymore. He pulls both hands free at the same time, to renewed howls of protest.
“Get your pants all the way off then, if you want it so bad,” Sam orders, flushed and aching himself. He’s entirely unsure who wants it more at this point, because it seems the demon still comes apart when Sam gets inside him, and Sam needs to feel it. He barely has time to blink before he has Dean’s beautiful body naked on top of him, shirt and jeans and boots clunking against the seat backs and floor and the demon popping the button of Sam’s fly and tugging down the zipper so fast he nearly snags Sam’s dick in the process. He gets it in his mouth as soon as it’s free, sucking so hard Sam nearly comes off the seat with the rush of pleasure, the demon’s constant growls sending vibrations rocketing through him as he gets Sam wet and drives him crazy.
Luckily he gets impatient quickly, releasing Sam before he loses it and getting up onto his knees to straddle Sam’s hips again. Naked, his sweat-sheened body gleaming in the moonlight as they race along the highway, the demon reaches down to get his hand around Sam’s cock, jerks it until it slides easy through his fist and then breaches himself in one quick motion that makes Sam’s vision blur with the rush of intense sensation.
“Fuck,” Ruby curses from the front seat, and the car jerks so quickly to the left that the demon almost falls off Sam’s dick and onto the floor. He yelps and snarls at her, but manages to tighten his knees around Sam’s hips and steady himself with one foot on the floor. Sam turns to catch Ruby’s eyes in the rearview, pupils so blown she looks like her demon-self, one hand gripping too tight on the wheel.
The demon growls and pants and whines like a wildcat as he rides Sam’s dick, hard muscles of his thighs standing out and flat belly rolling with his harsh breaths as he moves up and down, sinuous with a rhythm that’s pulling Sam right along with him. His cock is red and thick and fucking gorgeous, bobbing against his stomach, slick at the tip, and god, Sam can’t see anything but Dean, the familiar need in his brother’s face, fine brows drawn together in agony-ecstacy, lips pulled back in an almost-grimace. He reaches for Dean’s dick and it’s hot and wet in his hand, silky soft over hard as steel, and Sam pulls only twice before he shoots, splattering Sam’s chest, slicking his fingers. Dean’s ass clenches around Sam tightly as he comes, and Sam follows him over, the demon still moving on him, the pleasure drawing out until it’s closer to pain and Sam pushes him off with a groan.
They separate with a filthy sound, one that makes Ruby smirk in the mirror and then slam her fist against the wheel with a curse under her breath.
The demon rolls half onto the floor and lies there naked and sated, sweat glistening on his skin in the reflected glow of streetlamps and moonlight. His eyes are closed, long lashes fanned against flushed cheeks, and Sam’s heart lurches painfully for want of his brother.
“Looks like you got the short end of that stick,” Ruby scoffs, and Sam raises himself on his elbows to survey the mess already getting sticky on his torn shirt and caught in the trail of hair on his belly. The demon opens his black eyes and smirks at her, one corner of his mouth curling up, half pleased and half threatening, and Sam turns away wishing they were green.
The demon’s quiet for the rest of the ride to the motel, almost docile when Ruby tells them to wait in the car while she gets them a room. He lets Sam herd him inside and doesn’t growl when Ruby claims first shower and Sam orders them a pizza. He’s not sure he can eat with the image of a dead man still burned onto his retinas, but the demons will be hungry, and Sam knows he needs his strength to do this. He can’t quite suppress a sigh when he hangs up the phone.
“I’ve got next shower,” Sam announces, standing to peel his crusty shirt over his head and wincing when it catches on his not quite fully healed stitches. He expects a snarl in reply, but instead the demon gets up and comes to stand in front of him, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to pull it off with surprising gentleness and tossing it to the floor. It feels like a million years ago, when Sam was just starting a growth spurt and Dean used to call him an orangutan as he tangled himself up in his sleeves and whined until his big brother came to rescue him, exacting payback in a few surreptitious tickles to Sam’s ribs while his arms were still occupied.
The demon who looks just like Dean is staring at him when the shirt’s discarded, his eyes impossible to read, just bottomless pits of inky blackness. Bottomless like Sam’s stomach feels when he remembers the murdered man half-buried in soda cans and jars of mayonnaise. It’s horrible to feel this way again, like he did sixty years ago when Dean came back from hell the first time, and Sam wonders if anyone can manage a feat like that twice.
The demon cocks his head to the side just slightly, licks his lips. Sam’s about to turn away from the black-eyed scrutiny when he feels the brush of the demon’s fingers over his own. Tentative, nothing like the possessive way the demon’s touched him for the past few days. Sam doesn’t move, waiting. Hoping even though it feels like a fruitless, stupid thing to do, too childish for a man in his eighties to cling to.
The demon slips his fingers past Sam’s, entwines them loosely, and Sam can feel the energy between them, palpable like it always is, making him long for his brother’s touch, his brother’s eyes. He clasps the demon’s fingers without thought, their hands sliding together into a familiar grip. Sam tells himself it’s nothing, that procedural memory is the last to go.
Behind the bathroom door, the shower shuts off, and Sam moves to pull his hand away. He’s surprised to feel the demon’s grip tighten and opens his mouth to protest, but goes quiet when he sees the twitch of muscle in the demon’s cheek, the slight tremble of his chin.
“Sam,” the demon rasps, the name forced out in a growl, and Sam squeezes the hand still clasped in his own. He doesn’t need the green of Dean’s eyes to see the anguish on the demon’s face – can feel it now, heavy and painful between them. “Sam, I – ”
He stops, biting down on his bottom lip so hard it splits again, droplet of bright red standing out in the middle of the full bow of his mouth. “Sam,” he says again, nearly crushing Sam’s hand.
“I know,” Sam answers, though he doesn’t, not really. But the demon’s trying to tell him something, and Sam desperately wants to hear it, hear more of it. He pulls on their clasped hands to bring them closer, and the demon leans against him, burying his face against Sam’s shoulder and breathing him in as Sam strokes the back of his neck, tickling through the fine hairs there. “I know.”
Chapter Five
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no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:51 am (UTC)*still grinning over latest J2 pic*
Hugs,
Lyns
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Date: 2010-02-03 03:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:52 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:53 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 04:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:53 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-03 04:55 pm (UTC)AND I SWEAR, I SEEM TO USE THIS ICON FOR EVERY COMMENT ON THIS! :D
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Date: 2010-02-04 04:54 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-03 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:55 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:55 am (UTC)Thanks again -
Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 07:07 pm (UTC)god, this breaks my heart. i feel so bad for Sam, so lost and alone, and seeing the demon in the body of his brother, and I'm sure at some point he got so used to it being Dean, he probably forgot sometimes that it was a demon, and now here he has that in-your-face reminder that his brother is GONE, he's a DEMON, and Sam was the only thing holding him to his humanity. *whimpers* Breaks my heart. God, I can't wait for the next update. This is so damn good, and I couldn't have asked for a better sequel. Awesome.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:56 am (UTC)Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment!
Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-03 09:35 pm (UTC)Seeing these updates absolutely makes my day!
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Date: 2010-02-04 04:57 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-03 11:24 pm (UTC)Your Ruby has grown on me over these two stories. I never liked her in the show, but you make her so much more likable.
There was just so much emotion and sadness in this chapter. I really feel for Sam. Dean, too, actually. He is struggling within himself to remember who he was. I believe it is still there, somewhere. The moment of emotional turmoil when Sam asked for the kiss just turned into all kinds of HOT!!!! I must say, it really seemed like Sam knew how to reach out to the demon. Kind of like initial contact of some sort.
And the end just hurt so much. I absolutely love what a struggle it is for Dean to say anything. It fits so perfectly with the character you've created. Even just the word "I" was a huge step for your handsome demon. And even though the interaction was incredibly emotional in a sad way, I took hope in the intimacy of their touches and that one single word.
Great update and thank you!! I will have to beg sooner. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 04:59 am (UTC)I quite like Ruby here too, much more than in canon, alas :/
More soon, and thanks again for the begging ;)
Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-04 12:31 am (UTC)really wonderful final scene!!!
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 05:00 am (UTC)Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment!
Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-04 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 05:01 am (UTC)Next chapter soon!
Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 12:55 am (UTC)Sam's streadfast resolve to pacify Dean...bring him back to his old self if that is even possible, is applaudable.
Although Dean's synonumous green eyes are not forthcoming, still, the light and tentative touches, the unmistakeable adherence to his Sam's wishes sends a message of hope.
Adore your optimistic last paragraph...and Dean's unspoken question, just so tender and sad.
Great update. Hugs xx
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Date: 2010-02-04 05:02 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-04 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 05:03 am (UTC)Thanks again -
Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 10:11 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for reading and commenting, I really appreciate it!
Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 09:53 am (UTC)HATELOVE YOU! Sooo shamelessly hot, angsty, hopeful, and heartbreaking! I feel practically schizo after reading this chapter.no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 10:13 pm (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 10:14 pm (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-04 09:09 pm (UTC)Cat
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Date: 2010-02-04 10:15 pm (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-04 10:16 pm (UTC)Thanks again -
Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-04 11:11 pm (UTC)I love this story!
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 03:15 am (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and commenting!
Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-05 12:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 03:16 am (UTC)More soon - thanks again,
Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 07:11 am (UTC)Is it greedy to wish the next chapter was already up? :D
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Date: 2010-02-06 03:17 am (UTC)More soon!
Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 02:14 pm (UTC)The image of the demon tugging Sam in and of Sam just wanting a kiss nearly broke my heart.
They are both so desperate but don't really know what to do.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 03:18 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 04:12 pm (UTC)this Dean makes me tingle in some places and makes me cry so HARD...
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Date: 2010-02-06 03:19 am (UTC)I really appreciate your reading and commenting -
Hugs,
Lynsey
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Date: 2010-02-05 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 03:20 am (UTC)*clings to you*
Hugs,
Lynsey