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justinedelargeTitle: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 58: Love to Love You Baby
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest
Word Count: 8132
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters.
Summary: Sam has some Adios Motherfuckers. Sam and Dean go to the club. Reggie finds the boys, just in the nick of time. Something happens that reveals more about the power of Sam and Dean’s special knives. Someone gets hurt. And Sam and Dean receive shocking news.
The dark-haired man, this time in a charcoal suit, sat in the car, keeping an eye on the motel exit. His cell phone rang. “You should have been done two hours ago.”
The teenage girl with blonde hair who had been with him in the grocery store spoke. “I’ve been shopping all day.” Her voice was petulant.
“Just pick something.”
“I can’t just pick something. It’s got to be perfect. Something that will catch his eye.”
“I don’t know why you’re so fixated on him. He hasn’t even won yet.”
She twirled a lock of hair in her fingers. “He will.”
“It hasn’t even started yet.”
“I’m patient.”
“Just… pick one out, would you? And hurry up. It’ll be dark soon.”
The girl ended the call. “Unbelievable. Can’t find anything decent to wear in this town.” Suddenly her head snapped around, staring at a tall, strapping young man, 19 or 20, with haunting green eyes and dark hair, walking out of a café and heading off alone down the street. “Hello, gorgeous,” she purred. “You’ll fit just right.”
She followed him, keeping her distance until he walked past a wide alley that dead-ended at a warehouse, with several parked cars in a row. She quickly caught up to him and put her hand on his arm. “Please, can you help me? My car won’t start.” She batted her baby blue eyes at him, and predictably, he softened. “Where are you parked?” She took his arm and led him down the alley towards the cars. “It’s right here,” she gestured toward one of them. When they were safely out of sight from people on the main street, she gripped his shoulders and turned him toward her. Her head lolled backward, black smoke pouring out of her mouth and eyes, and forced its way into his mouth. The blonde girl’s body collapsed to the ground. He struggled—briefly—then calmed.
He stroked his gloved hands over his chest, down his hips, and one hand cupped his genitals. He chuckled. “Very nice.” He glanced down at the body on the ground, unmoving but still breathing. “Not that anyone would believe you, but…just in case.” He knelt down and snapped her neck. Reaching into her pocket, he removed a set of car keys and a cell phone, then he picked her body up and dropped it in a Dumpster, dropping the lid quietly. Then he strolled back down the sidewalk, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of the jacket he was now wearing and lighting one.
He hit redial on the cell phone.
“Yes?”
“It’s Rosier.”
“Ah. Man voice. Suits you better. Did you find something nice?”
“Oh, I found a pretty pretty boy. Sam’s gonna love him.”
“Good luck getting between the two of them.”
“Ok, so, monogamy and boy king with his own demon army don’t go together so much. Right? When he’s…ripe, I’ll be there for him.”
“Just… could you get back here? And bring coffee. And donuts. My meatsuit’s getting weak.”
“You never listen to me. What did I tell you?”
“Always bring snacks to a stakeout.”
“I’ll be there in a few. Try not to die from starvation.”
Rosier put his cell phone in his jacket pocket. He pulled a driver’s license from the wallet in his back pocket and studied the photo. “Alex Haynes. Who’s a pretty boy? You are.”
~
At Sam’s urging, Dean mixed up a small batch of Adios Motherfuckers, mostly for Sam’s benefit since Dean would be driving. Sure enough, it went straight to Sam’s head and made him loose and giggly. Dean poured the remainder of the potent liquid into a flask and tucked into his coat pocket.
“Can we go? I want to go. Come on. Time to go.” Sam plucked at Dean’s shirt.
“I guess that means you’re ready.”
Sam laughed, wiggling his hips a little on the couch in eagerness. “Oh, I’m ready. Are you ready?”
They called ahead and came through the hallway to the common room.
Juliane was on the couch, reading. Danny sat at a small table, studying a chess board, a book of chess strategy in his hand.
“Awww man… you play chess?” Sam beamed. “I play chess! We should totally play chess.”
“But not now.” Dean put his arm around Sam.
“No. Not now. We’re going out.” Sam snuggled into Dean. Liquor made Sam even more tactile than normal.
Juliane fixed Sam with a serious expression. “You two be really careful out there.”
“We will. We won’t be out late.”
Sam stifled a giggle. Dean walked Sam out the other door, arm in arm. “Back soon,” he called behind him.
Juliane put her book down. “Those two. They’re so…”
“Cute together?” Danny looked up.
“Yes. They just… they’re not afraid to hug and touch and be affectionate.”
Danny swallowed, and turned his attention back to the chess board.
Juliane got up, heading toward the kitchen, then stopped partway there. She stood in place, facing Danny, fidgeting. Danny cocked his head.
“Um. I was wondering if…do you think you could…”
“Whatever you need. You know that.”
“Paul told me I should practice, um…practice hugging people. And I thought…if you didn’t mind…”
Danny shut his book with a snap, and sat motionless for a moment, then he rose to his feet slowly. “I could do that. If you’re sure.”
Juliane shifted her weight from one foot to the other, making her look curiously young. “I think so. I mean, I should. I mean… yes. I’m sure.” She raised her hands awkwardly and then dropped them again.
Danny walked to her, slowly, carefully, like he was approaching a wild horse and didn’t want to spook it. “Here. Why don’t you just...” He paused. “You lead. You need to lead.”
Juliane nodded. She dropped her gaze and moved closer. He raised his arms so she could slip hers underneath. She leaned forward at the waist, and put her arms around him in an awkward A-shaped hug.
He held her so gently, barely touching her. “Good. That’s real good. That’s great for a first—“
She moved closer, straightening up, into a proper hug, her chest and stomach lightly pressed against his.
“—time.” Danny kept his voice steady, keeping the squeak out of it with great effort.
“Hmmm,” Juliane murmured.
“You ok? Is this ok?”
She breathed out. “Nice.”
Danny stared at the far wall, trying not to breathe in the scent of her shampoo, trying not to breathe in the faint scent of her, a clean scent of soap and some kind of girly lotion. Trying not to breathe at all, or the moment would shatter, revealing itself to be not real.
Juliane nestled closer. “You’re shaking.”
“Really? Weird.” Danny laughed nervously. “So, how does it feel? I mean, are you… is it…”
“I feel safe.”
Danny closed his eyes to keep in the flare of emotion that threatened to drop him to his knees.
“I mean, I know I’m not.”
A spike of sadness mixed with a stinging lash of shame shot through him.
“No one is ever safe.” Her voice was soft, the side of her face pressed into his chest. “I learned that… when it happened. Everyone has this fantasy that they’re safe, and they just aren’t. That’s what it took from me. That illusion of being safe.” She pressed her palms against his back. “But right now? I feel safe.”
Danny’s arms tightened around her, trying not to squeeze her too much. “You are safe.” He dropped his head, daring to let himself press his cheek against her hair.
She did not pull away.
He nuzzled against her, the tiniest of movements. She made the softest of sounds.
“I promise. No one on Earth is safer than you are right now.” He held her. Just held her. Glorying in the unexpected gift of being allowed to simply hold her.
~
Reggie sat bolt upright in his chair. Two familiar figures emerged from the main office door and walked slowly toward the back of the parking lot.
Sam and Dean.
Reggie dropped his head in his hands and exhaled, releasing a breath he felt like he’d been holding since they first discovered Sam and Dean had run away from home. He ran his fingers through his long grey hair and jumped to his feet, grabbing his car keys. He ran down the stairs gracefully, and slid behind the wheel of his car without being spotted. They pulled out, and Reggie pulled out behind them. So intent was he on following the boys without being made that he did not notice the car pull out behind him from the side of the road.
He followed their car to the south side of town, where they parked and walked, arm in arm, down the sidewalk. Reggie parked his car further down the street, and walked rapidly after them, not wanting to call out to them for fear of spooking them, hoping to catch up to them before they made it to wherever they were going. He was too late. They approached a club—a gay club, based on the posters on the front door—and flashed their IDs at a bouncer who waved them inside without looking. Reggie stopped in his tracks. The bouncer gave him an appraising, appreciative look. “Don’t be shy. Plenty of boys in there looking for a hot daddy to play with.”
Reggie’s brow furrowed, and he took a step toward the bouncer. “I don’t play with boys.” His voice was a low rumble, graveled and rough and full of dark promise. The bouncer took a step back, palms up. Reggie pondered his options. Follow them into a gay club where they had clearly gone as a couple, and have an impossibly awkward scene, or wait for them to come out. He swore under his breath and stalked away. He stopped at a liquor store and got a microwave burrito, more coffee, some snacks, and a bottle of the best whiskey they had, to bring back to the motel. Then he got back into his car and settled in to wait for the boys to emerge.
He saw, but not did particularly register, a tall, dark-haired young man get out of a car and walk into the club behind them. He could not see the dark-haired man’s eyes flash black, or the bouncer’s eyes flash black in response.
~
Inside, the club was bustling. Dean slipped the flask out of his pocket and took a swig, then offered it to Sam. Sam took a deep drink of the sweet cocktail. “Yummy.”
“You really do like your candy.” Dean couldn’t hold back the grin.
Sam pursed his lips, canting his hips to the side in a surprisingly sassy move. “Yes I do.” He stuck his tongue between his teeth. “Speaking of which…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an AstroPop. Peeling the plastic off, he stuck the end into his mouth.
Dean stared at him. “You didn’t.”
“Oh yes I did.” Sam sucked on the AstroPop. Dean’s eyes weren’t the only ones suddenly on Sam, watching his lips slide down the cone-shaped candy. Everyone within viewing range was staring. Sam dragged Dean further inside the club, stopping partway to spin around and crush his mouth up against Dean’s. Dean groaned at the taste of cherry, licking at Sam’s sugared lips. Sam pulled away with a smirk, and stuck the candy back in his mouth, sealing his lips around it and pulling it out slowly.
“Jesus, Sammy…” Dean shifted his weight, making more room in his jeans for his growing erection.
Sam leaned close so Dean could hear every word, breathing in the scent of cherry. “I want to put this right next to your cock and suck on both of them at the same time.”
Dean gripped Sam with both hands and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Then he pulled back, breathed into Sam’s ear, “What are you trying to do, Sammy? Kill me?”
“Wanna give you what you want.” Sam sucked on the candy again. “Wanna give you everything.”
The DJ spoke over the song he was playing. “Welcome, girls and boys, to Sassy’s. This is our place, where we can be free to love who we love and dance like no one cares what you look like.” The crowd roared at that. “We’re gonna kick off Old School 70s night with our theme song. So grab your partner and get on the floor because Marvin’s in the house… The familiar guitar lick spilled out of the speakers, and Marvin Gaye’s voice followed. I’ve been really trying, baby… The dance floor suddenly turned into prom night, with couples swaying back and forth with their arms around each other, many of the regulars singing along.
Sam dropped the candy to the floor and tugged on Dean’s hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”
“Sam. I don’t dance.”
“Yeah you do.” Sam remembered Dean practicing for his prom, asking Sam to pretend to be a girl so he could rehearse some dance moves and not look like an idiot.
Dean let Sam lead him onto the dance floor, and held Sam as they did the slow dance sway and shuffle. They moved in sync immediately, moving in perfect rhythm to the music. Two boys next to them sang along, making dramatic gestures as they danced. “We’re all sensitive people…with so much to give…”
Dean held Sam close, stunned at how surprisingly intimate it was, just dancing with Sam. Dancing. With Sam. Letting his mouth move against Sam’s neck. In public. No one particularly watching. No one particularly caring.
It was glorious.
Marvin sang, I love you. Dean tipped Sam’s face up and looked him in the eyes, letting the song speak for him, feeling Sam pressed up against him.
The crowd sang along loudly on the next part. There…is nothing wrong…with me loving you… Sam’s mouth fell open. Dean forgot to breathe. Giving yourself to me…can never be wrong…if the love is true… Dean smiled at his Sammy, eyes blurring with tears. Sam stilled and offered up his mouth to Dean. Everyone around them moved and rocked and swayed to the music, with Sam and Dean, lost in their kiss, still and calm in the center like the eye of a storm.
The DJ melded the end of the song with another song, and Sam tugged Dean off the dance floor to a relatively secluded corner of the club. Sam bumped up against Dean, hard and eager, limbs a bit loose from the alcohol. He kissed Dean again, more insistent. Wanting.
Dean was torn between wanting to take Sam up on his offer, and a low rumble of warning deep in his gut. “We gotta be careful, Sammy.”
Sam’s face fell, like Dean had offered him the keys to a sports car and then snatched them back again.
Dean sighed. “I want to. I really want to. But…maybe it’s not such a good idea. Drawing attention to ourselves. We’re supposed to be in hiding, remember?”
Sam looked like he was going to cry.
A dark-haired guy bumped into them hard, knocking Dean back away from Sam, ending up face to face with Sam, both his hands pressed against Sam’s chest. “Sorry! Crowded in here tonight.” He was taller than Dean, and wore black jeans and a sleeveless white a-shirt, revealing tanned, well-defined arms and an impressive shoulder-to-waist ratio. Sam couldn’t help but stare. Even Dean had to stare, despite the anger that flared through him. He radiated charisma, or pheromones, or something altogether intoxicating. He was beautiful. Beautiful and somehow wrong.
He smiled at Sam, showing white teeth that looked natural, not purchased. He dropped his hands in slow motion, dragging them down Sam’s chest lightly.
Dean growled low in his throat.
Sam’s head whipped around to stare at Dean. So did the dark-haired young man.
“You could hear that, huh.” Dean rubbed the back of his head.
“Yeah. Outside voice.” The stranger smiled at Dean and offered his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make a move on your guy.” Something in his eyes made Dean think, That’s a lie. He’s lying.
Dean shook his hand reluctantly, a chill in his gaze. “Well, he’s taken.”
The man turned back to Sam. Suddenly Dean felt like he had ceased to exist to him, even though his hand was still being shaken. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick.” He released Dean’s hand and extended his hand toward Sam. “Alex.”
Sam shook his hand. “Sam.” Dean stared at Sam in disbelief. Sam looked at Dean with an expression that clearly said, “What?”
Alex tilted his head like a thought had just occurred to him. “Hey, you two ever do a three-way?”
Dean stepped between Alex and Sam. “Not our scene, man. I think you better back off.”
“Now that’s a crying shame.” Alex looked over Dean’s shoulder at Sam’s mouth, and back up into his eyes. “Two guys serving you at once…it’s amazing what two can do that one can’t.”
Dean’s mouth twitched. “I said back off. Before you get hurt.” Dean’s hand went to his knife, strapped to his side. The knife that the bouncer had somehow not even bothered to check for.
Alex took a step back. “Ok. I get it. He’s all yours.” For now, the demon thought. “But you can’t blame me.” He looked at Sam again, desire rolling off him in waves. “He’s beautiful.”
Dean cocked his head to the side, preparing to make a move, and Alex stepped back with a laugh and walked away.
Dean blew out a breath through his nose.
The demon wearing the Alex suit walked to the bar, leaned on the counter and watched it unfold, the jealousy he had sparked in Dean bursting through him, making him forget his earlier caution, driving him to pull Sam to the far wall of the club.
Dean grabbed Sam, kissed him deep and hard, hands roaming all over his body. Sam gasped into Dean’s mouth, grinding against him.
“I didn’t like him putting his hands on you.” Dean ran his hands down Sam’s chest as if trying to wipe the memory of the other man’s touch from his skin. “Didn’t like it at all.”
Sam responded beautifully, arching up into Dean’s touch.
“You’re mine, Sammy.” Dean put his hands on both sides of Sam’s face. “And I don’t share.”
Sam swallowed hard. Dean kissed him, fierce and deep, claiming him. He moved his hand down between Sam’s legs and cupped him. Sam squirmed, moaning into Dean’s mouth.
The demon chuckled. He got up and moved through the room, fingertips brushing against this one’s arm, that one’s neck, whispering things people couldn’t exactly hear but responded to nonetheless. The energy shifted. Some people frowned, feeling suddenly ill at ease, and left the club. Those who stayed became more handsy, surreptitious caresses becoming more overt. The demon sidled up behind the DJ and whispered in his ear. The DJ nodded like someone just said something very wise to him, and changed the song, pulling a Donna Summer 12” single out of his stack of vinyl.
Ahhhh, love to love you baby… Ahhhh, love to love you baby…
Dean snickered, but Sam’s mouth on his shushed him. His hands slipped inside Dean’s shirt, palms hot against his skin, rocking his hips forward and back, rubbing his cock against Dean’s hand.
“Don’t be jealous. I’m just for you.” Sam’s mouth, warm on Dean’s neck. “Yours.” His tongue, tickling his skin. “No one else’s.”
Sam turned around, backed up against Dean, raised his hands over his head and behind Dean’s neck in a position of surrender. He moved his hips in time to the slow rhythm of the song, grinding against Dean’s cock, watching people watching them. The freedom of it was dizzying. Sam laughed with the joy of it. Dean slipped his hands under Sam’s shirt, caressed Sam’s flat belly. Sam closed his eyes and threw his head back with a throaty sound of pleasure that Dean felt reverberate against his chest more than he heard it. Then he opened his eyes again, felt the wealth of attention on them, shivered as people witnessed him and Dean, watched them with approval and appreciation and something akin to awe.
Around them, other hands roamed, other mouths explored each other. The air was thick, heady with something that loosened inhibitions.
Ahhhh, love to love you baby...
Sam undulated against Dean, pulling his shirt up and stroking his stomach as Dean’s hands rose to his chest. When Dean’s fingers closed on Sam’s hard little nipples, pinching lightly, Sam cried out, arching his back into it. Dean’s lips found the sensitive spot behind Sam’s left ear and teased it, increasing the pinch of his fingertips until Sam was panting and making sounds so loud Dean could hear them over the music.
Sam spun around to face Dean. He brushed his fingers over Dean’s mouth, his gorgeous pink lips, parted and yielding. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. Dean swiped his tongue over his lower lip and drank in Sam’s adoration.
Donna Summer moaned, repeated her mantra. Ahhh, love to love you baby… her moans turning to cries of ecstasy. Shy young men found themselves shamelessly rubbing against their partner’s strong thighs, mouths open with pleasure. A girl with short hair straddled the thigh of a long-haired girl sitting on a bench seat, arms wrapped around each other, grinding against each other. A couple of not-shy young men found themselves bent over a table, pants tugged down, fingers being worked inside them.
The bouncer shut the front door and locked it. He stood in front of it with his beefy arms crossed, eyes gone black, a smile stretching his face.
The demon wearing the flesh of Alex Haynes stood in the center of the dance floor, spinning slowly with arms outstretched, then stretched his hands to the ceiling, one at a time, hips swaying, back curving side to side, dancing all by himself, reveling in what was happening.
Ahhhh, love to love you baby...
Sam’s hands worked at Dean’s zipper. “You can do anything you want with me.” He pulled the zipper down slowly. “To me.” A shiver rattled through Dean.
The guys closest to them stared rapt as Sam drew Dean’s cock out, stroked it gently. “I’m yours,” Sam whispered. “I’ll show you. I’ll show everyone.”
Sam sank to his knees.
Dean gasped.
Sam looked up at him through his brown hair, ran his hands up Dean’s thighs. “Anything.” He took Dean’s cock in one hand, and licked a stripe up the underside, eyes fixed on Dean’s.
Dean’s head fell back, smacking into the wall. Sam swallowed his cock to the root, moaning at the feel of it in his mouth.
The demon Rosier, wearing his new Alex suit, spun around and strutted slowly in time to the music toward the far wall, an expectant grin on his face. At the sight of Sam on his knees for Dean, the grin evaporated, replaced by a look of fury. Just then, the bouncer laid his hand on his shoulder.
“Rosier. Easy.”
“He should not be on his knees,” Rosier hissed. “The other one should be on his knees for him. Worshiping him.”
“This is what He wants. Isn’t it? For him to indulge all his base urges?” The bouncer laughed. “He doesn’t care who’s on his knees.”
“It’s unseemly,” Rosier spat.
Suddenly, his head whipped to the side, nostrils flaring like he smelled something delicious. A cluster of straight kids, girls who had dragged their boyfriends to the gay club, stood with mouths agape, watching the debauchery unfolding. The girls giggled. The two young men watched with stony faces.
“Perfect,” Rosier murmured. “Fucking ideal. Just what the doctor ordered.” He circled them, came up behind them, laid his hands lightly on their shoulders, whispered in their ears. “Look at him. Look at the pervert. What he’s making that innocent boy do to him.” Fingers caressing the back of their necks. Their eyes glazing over. Hands clenching into fists. “It’s disgusting.”
Sam lavished Dean with attention, worshiping him with his mouth and tongue, with his whole soul. Dean stroked Sam’s hair, shivering at what Sam was doing to him. He was aware that people close to him were watching, watching Sam suck him down, watching Sam on his knees for Dean, showing everyone how much he wanted Dean, how much he loved him.
It was right and wrong and so intense he couldn’t stand it. He clutched Sam’s head and came in his mouth, gasping as Sam swallowed it all down, hand between his legs stripping his cock furiously until he came too, spattering the floor, even hitting the wall.
Sam panted, forehead pressed against Dean’s thigh, then stood, quickly tucking himself back in his jeans. Dean did the same. “Jesus, Sammy. I can’t believe you did that.”
Sam looked at Dean, concern bright in his eyes. “It was ok, though, right?” Dean could see it, the veil of oh god I went too far didn’t I dropping over Sam’s eyes, the flood of shame about to rise up in him, a flutter of panic.
“It was incredible. Sam. You were incredible.” He smoothed Sam’s hair back, kissed him soft and sweet. “So good for me, Sammy.” The phrase soothed Sam immediately. “I love you. So much.” Sam nestled into his arms, practically purring with satisfaction and relief that he hadn’t done something bad.
Dean looked around. People seemed confused, looking around the room like something unfathomable had just happened. A few boys were crying. As soon as Sam came, the demon lost interest in sustaining the energy that had loosened everyone’s inhibitions. Everyone was back in full possession of their faculties—and some people didn’t like what had just transpired.
“Let’s get out of here.” Dean didn’t understand what was going on—they had been so wrapped up in each other hadn’t even noticed the debauchery taking place elsewhere—but he felt a strong desire to leave. He took Sam’s hand and led him to the door. It was unlocked and wide open, as though it had always been that way. The bouncer nodded at them as they left. “Have a nice night.”
Rosier walked to the place where they had been and crouched down. He dragged two fingers through the ejaculate Sam had spilled on the floor, and stuck them into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut, sucking the taste off his fingers with a moan.
Then he came up behind the two young men to whom he’d been whispering. “Something should be done, don’t you think? He needs to pay.” They nodded in unison. Rosier leaned in closer and whispered, “Fuck up that pretty face of his. Go.”
He turned to the girls, flashing a dazzling smile, fixing them with all the force of his attention. “Your friends have to step out for a little bit. But that’s ok. Right?”
“Right.” The girls blinked rapidly, vacuous smiles on their faces.
He brought them to the bar and ordered them two Long Island Iced Teas. The bartender mixed them up without carding them.
“Now you just sit here quietly like good little girls and enjoy your drinks.” Rosier gestured to the bouncer to come with him, and followed the two young men out of the club, and down the street after Sam and Dean. “You make sure they don’t hurt Sam,” he said to the bouncer.
“What are you going to do?”
“Hide in the shadows and watch him learn how good it feels to take his vengeance.” Witness the boy taking another step towards becoming the King he was destined to be, he thought.
Sam and Dean walked slowly towards where they had parked the car.
The bouncer led them down a parallel street, the four of them running to get ahead of the boys. They cut through an alley connecting the two streets. Rosier took up a position in an unlit doorway to a shuttered business, nearly undetectable in the shadows. The bouncer watched from the corner. “Here they come.”
Sam and Dean walked a little further. Sam stared at a car across the street. “Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that… oh god. Dean. I think that’s Reggie.” Sam’s face drained of color. He walked a few steps past the alley, peering at the white-haired man getting out of the parked car. The shock of recognition was so extreme, as was the fear that shot through him, that he didn’t register that Dean was no longer standing next to him.
~
The bouncer’s hand closed over Dean’s mouth as he yanked Dean off his feet and pulled him backward into the dark alley. Dean struggled, writhing in his grasp, kicking, trying to cry out for Sam, to bite the bouncer’s hand. But immediately, two more were on top of him. A fist connected with his jaw hard, sending dazzling lights exploding behind his eyes, making him dizzy.
“Fucking faggot,” the light-haired one said. Dean kicked out hard. Another fist, this time on his mouth, splitting his lip open. “Sam,” he croaked, weakly, as the blows fell hard and merciless.
“Goddamn homo,” the other one said. “You queers make me sick.” A hand reaching for the leather cord around Dean’s neck, fingers closing over the amulet. “What is this, a homo necklace? Your faggot boyfriend give this to you?” A sharp yank, and the cord broke. Dean reached out for the amulet. The young man stood up, and brought his boot forward sharply, connecting with Dean’s chin, opening a nasty cut, rendering Dean barely conscious.
~
Sam stared at Reggie, face frozen in shock. Reggie shouted at him, pointed behind him, raced toward him, running flat out. Sam looked around, confused, and realized Dean was gone, and behind him, sounds of a scuffle in the alley. “Dean!” Sam turned and ran into the alley, Reggie right on his heels.
“All faggots should fucking die.” The light-haired one smashed his fist into Dean’s face again. Reggie froze, something in his eyes changing, a terrible memory called to mind.
The two guys assaulting Dean barely had time to register the presence of new players on the field when Sam was on them like a snarling, feral animal. The light-haired one raised his fist, saw it was Sam, and froze. Sam sent him flying through the air and crashing into the brick wall hard. Reggie grabbed him by the front of his shirt and laid him out cold with a single blow.
Sam fell on the second man like a thing possessed, lifting him up in the air and slamming him down on the ground, kicking him in the ribs and stomach, then straddling him and pummeling him again and again, face contorted with rage. A faint click as a tooth skittered across the concrete. Then another. The man’s hands remained at his sides the whole time Sam was hitting him. And Sam continued to hit him.
Reggie’s mouth twitched. He made no move to stop Sam.
In the shadows, Rosier clapped his hands together in silent glee. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”
“Sammy,” Dean choked out. Sam looked at him, then down at the bleeding body beneath him. He saw the strands of leather cord dangling from the man’s hand, and yanked the amulet free with his left hand, then punched him one more time, snapping his fist brutally hard across his nose, breaking it. Sam pulled his arm back, fingers curled up, palm forward. Hey, Sammy… did you know you can kill someone by breaking their nose? Look. You just break his nose and then shove the bone up into his brain. Just hit it with the palm of your hand like this…lights out forever.
“Sam.” Sam’s focus snapped to Reggie. The hard line of his mouth showed that he knew perfectly well what Sam was on the verge of doing. He shook his head no. Sam drew his fist back, and punched him one more time, across his temple, knocking him out completely.
A large shape moved past them, as the bouncer went to flee down the street. He stopped dead. Reggie blocked his way, silver hair backlit by the street light behind him, blade drawn.
The bouncer saw the markings on the blade, and his eyes flashed black.
“Sam?” Reggie called out in a steady voice. “Demon.”
Sam’s hand went to his knife.
So did Dean’s, sitting up on his elbow.
The bouncer feinted toward Reggie then raced the other way, leaping over Dean’s outstretched legs.
Dean’s knife caught him on the thigh, slicing a gash into the meat, yellowy fat bulging out. The bouncer yelped, clutching his leg, and fell. His eyes, glittering black, opened even wider. “What the hell?” Sweat erupted on his brow. “Oh… oh, that’s horrible.” He gripped his leg, rocking back and forth, moaning. “What is that?” He fell back, writhing in agony, heels thumping against the concrete… and then black smoke poured out of his mouth and nose, rose into the air and fled into the night sky. The bouncer blinked his eyes in confusion, coming back to himself…then lay his head down and passed out.
Sam slid over to Dean, held him in his arms. “Dean!” His hand shook as he stroked Dean’s hair, looked down at his swollen, bleeding face. Tears streaked Sam’s face. “Oh god. Dean.”
Reggie bent over the light-haired young man, smacked his cheek until his eyes fluttered open, and held the blade of his knife in front of his face. His eyes did not change. He quickly did the same to the other one. No change there either.
“Come on, son. We gotta get out of here.” Reggie knelt at Sam’s side and put his hand on his arm. His eyes were wet with tears. “Get Dean back to the Sanctuary.”
Sam and Dean stared at Reggie in shock.
Reggie smiled grimly. “Told you I was good.”
Reggie wiped Dean’s knife off on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket and slid the knife back in its sheath, a curious smile on his face. Then he bent down, picked up Dean like he weighed nothing, and carried him out of the alley.
Behind him, Rosier emerged from the shadows. He toed the bouncer with his boot. He groaned and opened his eyes. “What happened?”
The bouncer looked around him, confused. “I was… god, I was working, and then…this thing crawled inside me and…” He stared at Rosier, memory returning. “It was evil. It made me do things. And…you.”
Rosier shook his head, and broke the bouncer’s neck neatly and efficiently. He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, that little trick was unexpected, boys. Bet you didn’t pick that knife up at Walmart.” He chewed on a hangnail, walking back to where the man in the charcoal suit was waiting for him. “What to do, what to do.”
~
Reggie carried him quickly to his car and laid Dean, groggy but conscious, on the wide back seat. “Sam, you get your car. We’ll drive back together.”
Sam’s mouth hardened. “I’m not leaving him.”
Reggie surveyed Sam’s stubborn expression, and nodded. “Of course not.” He tossed Sam his keys. “You drive. I’ll take yours.” Sam fished the car keys out of Dean’s pocket and gave them to Reggie. Reggie got into Sam and Dean’s stolen car and followed Sam back to the motel. He breathed a sigh of relief when they passed over the salt bump. Reggie carried Dean in his arms, his blood staining the front of his shirt, and Sam led him into the inner sanctum.
Danny and Juliane jumped to their feet as Sam ran into the common room, followed by someone they did not know carrying a half-conscious, bleeding Dean.
Sam blurted out, “It’s ok. He’s with us.”
Danny shot Reggie a look as if to say, “I knew you were a hunter.” Reggie didn’t even notice. Juliane shoved books off the long dining table. “Put him down here.”
Dean moaned as Reggie laid him down on the table. “Sam?”
Danny and Juliane both blinked in surprise at the name.
“Dean. I’m right here.” Sam touched Dean’s chest gently. Dean smiled up at Sam, blood staining his teeth. Sam pulled the amulet out of his pocket, slipped the cord around Dean’s neck carefully, and tied it together again securely. “It’s ok. I got it back.”
Dean closed his hand over the amulet like it had pained him every second it wasn’t there. “Thank you,” he whispered. Sam’s face contorted, trying hard to not burst into sobs right there in front of Reggie and everyone.
“What happened?” Danny asked, running warm water into a bucket.
“These guys. Pulled Dean into an alley. Called him… they called him…” Sam stammered, unable to continue, fresh tears spilling down his face.
“Things that ignorant fucktards call gay people.” Reggie’s face was grim. “But it wasn’t just a hate crime. Two of them were human. One of them was a demon.”
Juliane and Danny looked stunned.“What… how did you…” They spoke simultaneously.
“I’ll explain everything. As best I can. Later. We need to see to him first.” Reggie gestured toward Dean.
Juliane went to a large armoire containing a wide range of medical supplies, grabbed a few items, and returned to the table. “I need to look him over…Sam.”
Sam flinched, realizing they’d used their real names.
“It’s ok. We’ll still keep all your secrets.” Her voice was soothing. “Do I have your permission to examine him?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Dean.” Dean blinked at the sound of his real name on her lips. “I need to check out your injuries. May I touch you?”
Dean nodded.
“I’ll do my best not to hurt you.” Juliane dipped a clean cloth in the warm water Danny brought her, and lightly swabbed Dean’s face, cleaning the blood away. Dean winced, but did not make any other sound. Delicately, slowly, she cleaned Dean’s face, revealing the injuries beneath. “Tell me if anything I touch causes a sharp pain.” She gently pressed her fingers against the bones of his face. Nothing caused Dean to speak up.
“Did they hurt you anywhere else?”
“No. Just my face.”
“Good. Ok, nothing seems to be broken. Not even that perfect nose of yours.” She smiled. Dean smiled back, and winced at the pain in his mouth. “You’re going to have a nice shiner on that right eye. You have a split lip, but that will heal without stitches.” Her expression changed as she dabbed at the blood welling on the jagged cut on the right side of his chin. “This, though.”
“What?”
“This isn’t going to heal well without stitches. And even then, you’re going to have a scar.”
“Chicks dig scars,” Dean murmured. Juliane smiled.
“Funny.” She patted his hand. “Now, I’ve got everything we need here to stitch you up, but I’m no doctor. I can keep you from getting infected, but I can’t guarantee I’ll keep you as handsome as you were. If you want, we can take you to a hospital for a plastic surgeon.”
“No hospitals.” Three voices spoke in unison. Dean, Sam and Reggie glanced at each other.
“I can do it.” Sam’s voice was steady, assured.
Everyone stared at Sam.
“I can do it.” Sam repeated, squeezing Dean’s hand. “You taught me how. Remember?”
Dean closed his eyes, emotion rising within him at the memory. It felt like another lifetime, but it was just a few months before when he had taught Sam how to do running subcutaneous sutures on an orange peel. If you do it right, you can’t even see the seam. So like when you get your face sliced open during a hunt for being a dumbass, I can keep you looking pretty.
“Let Sam do it.” Dean looked up at Sam, his battered face soft and trusting.
Sam scrubbed his hands with antiseptic, wincing at the sting on the scrapes on his knuckles. He selected the curved needle he needed and the other tools. Juliane gave Dean a local anesthetic. The shot was clearly extremely painful for him, but he didn’t make a sound.
Reggie witnessed this with pride.
“Ok. Here we go.”
Dean touched Sam on the arm. “Keep me pretty, Sammy.”
Sam opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, glancing at Reggie. “Of course.”
Then with exquisite care, Sam stitched up Dean’s laceration. Juliane leaned over, rapt, watching the technique. Sam’s hands moved with the skill of a surgeon, the grace of an artist. “Amazing,” Juliane breathed. Sam smiled shyly, but kept his focus on Dean. He moved slowly, placing each stitch underneath the surface of the skin, just the way Dean had taught him, drawing the cut closed perfectly, with the utmost care. With reverence.
Reggie watched Sam work, his face grey. “You look like you could use a drink.” Danny moved next to Reggie.
“I surely could.”
“What do you drink?”
“Whiskey. Bourbon if you have it.”
“Maker’s Mark?”
“Nice.”
Danny poured a generous shot of bourbon into a highball glass. “Ice?”
“Two.”
He added two cubes of ice and handed it to Reggie. He took his neat.
Reggie watched Sam stitch up Dean’s battered face, and drank his whiskey. His hand shook so much the ice rattled in the glass.
“You ok? Did you get hurt?”
Reggie shook his head. “Didn’t lay a hand on me.”
Danny scrutinized Reggie’s face, and read his body language.
“You’ve seen this before.”
Reggie turned his focus to Danny, piercing blue eyes challenging him to ask the question on his lips.
“I know the look.” Danny took a drink.
Reggie’s eyes softened.
“Yeah. I’ve seen this before.” Reggie took another deep drink of bourbon, trying to keep his hand steady, trying to stave off the memories of cradling Nathan, bloodied and battered, in his arms. Goddamn faggots.
Finally, Sam tied off the last of the sutures. Juliane looked upon his work with awe. “That’s just astonishing.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You could be a surgeon.”
Dean spoke up. “He could be anything.” He tried to smile without pulling the cut in his lip apart. “He’s just that good.” Sam gave a shy, pleased smile at Dean’s praise.
Juliane dressed the wound with an antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage. “You two look like you need some rest.” Juliane pressed a plastic bottle into Sam’s hand. “Painkillers. He’ll need them.”
“I’m moving you down here to the Sanctuary,” Danny said to Reggie. “It’s safer.”
“I’d be obliged,” Reggie said.
“It’s just us now, by the way.” Danny looked at Sam and Dean. “Everyone else has moved on.”
This thought was curiously reassuring to both of them.
Juliane chimed in. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Danny went to set one of the apartments up for Reggie. Reggie accompanied Sam and Dean back to their apartment, Dean leaning on Sam for support.
Inside, Sam lowered Dean carefully to the couch. Dean winced. Sam brought him a glass of water and gave him a pain pill. He went to hold Dean’s hand, and pulled his hand back, wiping it on his jeans, trying not to look at Reggie. He looked miserable.
“We’re not going back, you know. So don’t think you can drag us back.”
Dean stared at Sam. They hadn’t talked about this.
“Dean. I’m not going back. Ever. I can’t, I just can’t go back to things the way they were before…” Sam struggled, wanting to say things he just couldn’t say in front of Reggie.
Reggie sat down on a chair across from the couch. He wiped his hand across his mouth. “Before I say what I’m about to say, I need both of you to be real clear on this first. It’s ok.” He fixed Sam with a serious gaze. “You got that? It’s ok.”
Sam looked worried. “I got it.”
“And you. You got it?” Reggie turned his attention to Dean.
“It’s ok. Whatever it is.”
Reggie blew out a breath. “I know.”
Sam’s head jerked back slightly, in confusion. “You know what?”
“I know about the two of you.”
Dean shook his head no, realization dawning. Sam still could not fathom what Reggie was saying.
“You…what?”
“That you’re…together.” Sam looked stricken. “And it’s ok.”
Sam started to shake, panic flooding him. “Dean?”
“Son, what did I just tell you?” Reggie cocked his head.
“You said it was ok.” Sam stared at Reggie in utter disbelief. “You know? And it’s ok?”
“Yup.”
Sam and Dean stared at Reggie, trying to take in the enormity of what he was saying.
Reggie knelt in front of them, put Sam’s hand inside Dean’s, and closed both his hands over them. “You’re in love. And you’re with each other. And you need to know it’s ok.”
Tears welled up in Dean’s eyes, and streamed openly down Sam’s face. Their hands trembled.
Reggie squeezed their hands again, gently. “And another thing you need to know right now is that I’m not here to take you back. John didn’t send me. I sent me.” He released their hands and sat back down. “I came to help you. That’s all.”
Sam let go of Dean’s hand and nearly knocked Reggie backward in his chair with the force of his hug.
“Strong fucker, isn’t he?” Reggie looked over Sam’s shoulder at Dean.
“Sam. Don’t break him.”
Sam eased up. “How did you know?” he said softly.
“It’s clear as day, if you know how to look.” Reggie patted Sam’s back. “Now you two have had a hell of a day, and I’m beat to hell myself. I could use another drink and a good eight hours of shuteye.” Sam went to Dean and sat back down next to him. He held Dean’s hand, eyes flickering to Reggie as though he was still afraid he would stand up, point his finger at them and scream, “Freaks!”
Reggie did no such thing. He simply smiled.
Then he spoke. “Now I’m not here to lay down the law, but I do need to remind you of common sense. Do not set foot outside this place again. Y’all are protected in here, and it damn well isn’t safe out there. Now I ain’t mad that you did, and what happened tonight isn’t your fault, but I’m guessing this is the first time anything bad’s happened when you left the Sanctuary, right?”
They nodded.
“I don’t believe what happened to Dean tonight was an accident.” Sam dropped his head, hit by this statement a lot harder than Reggie had any idea. “There’s demons out there, using humans for god knows what purposes, and until we figure out what the hell is going on, you two need to stay put. You need anything from the outside world, we’ll bring it to you. But you stay here. Got it?”
They nodded again.
“Reggie? What happened? With the knife?” Dean asked.
“That’s a longer story than any of us got energy for tonight. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
Dean nodded. “You’re right. Tomorrow. Better.” His voice was already a little slurred.
“Sam, you get him to bed, and get some sleep.”
Dean rose to his feet with a grimace, and extended his arms. Reggie grinned, and gave him a long, gentle hug.
“I’m glad you found us, man.” Dean thumped Reggie on the back.
“Me too.”
“Wish it had been a couple of minutes earlier, though.”
Reggie gave a little laugh, but Sam saw his face darken, guilt staining his features. “Me too, son. Me too.”
He left them and went to settle in to his new accommodations.
“Gonna have to skip my teeth brushing tonight, Sammy,” Dean tried to joke, touching his swollen mouth gingerly.
Sam said nothing, just looked at Dean, eyes wide.
Dean got it.
“Hey. Hey. It’s not your fault.”
Sam still said nothing, but his breath came a little faster.
“Not your fault, Sammy.” Dean reached for Sam, pulled him close.
“Ok.”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise.”
“I won’t.”
Sam brought Dean to bed and settled him beneath the blankets like he was the most precious thing in the world. “Guess it’s your turn to take care of me for a while, huh, Sammy…” Dean murmured sleepily.
Sam bit his lip, and stroked Dean’s chest. “Yeah. My turn now.”
The drug flooding his system, Dean was soon feeling no pain and fell into deep slumber.
Sam stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thinking about how nobody had raised a hand against him, a single phrase repeating in his head.
Sam Winchester is not to be touched.
Author:
justinedelargeFandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest
Word Count: 8132
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters.
Summary: Sam has some Adios Motherfuckers. Sam and Dean go to the club. Reggie finds the boys, just in the nick of time. Something happens that reveals more about the power of Sam and Dean’s special knives. Someone gets hurt. And Sam and Dean receive shocking news.
The dark-haired man, this time in a charcoal suit, sat in the car, keeping an eye on the motel exit. His cell phone rang. “You should have been done two hours ago.”
The teenage girl with blonde hair who had been with him in the grocery store spoke. “I’ve been shopping all day.” Her voice was petulant.
“Just pick something.”
“I can’t just pick something. It’s got to be perfect. Something that will catch his eye.”
“I don’t know why you’re so fixated on him. He hasn’t even won yet.”
She twirled a lock of hair in her fingers. “He will.”
“It hasn’t even started yet.”
“I’m patient.”
“Just… pick one out, would you? And hurry up. It’ll be dark soon.”
The girl ended the call. “Unbelievable. Can’t find anything decent to wear in this town.” Suddenly her head snapped around, staring at a tall, strapping young man, 19 or 20, with haunting green eyes and dark hair, walking out of a café and heading off alone down the street. “Hello, gorgeous,” she purred. “You’ll fit just right.”
She followed him, keeping her distance until he walked past a wide alley that dead-ended at a warehouse, with several parked cars in a row. She quickly caught up to him and put her hand on his arm. “Please, can you help me? My car won’t start.” She batted her baby blue eyes at him, and predictably, he softened. “Where are you parked?” She took his arm and led him down the alley towards the cars. “It’s right here,” she gestured toward one of them. When they were safely out of sight from people on the main street, she gripped his shoulders and turned him toward her. Her head lolled backward, black smoke pouring out of her mouth and eyes, and forced its way into his mouth. The blonde girl’s body collapsed to the ground. He struggled—briefly—then calmed.
He stroked his gloved hands over his chest, down his hips, and one hand cupped his genitals. He chuckled. “Very nice.” He glanced down at the body on the ground, unmoving but still breathing. “Not that anyone would believe you, but…just in case.” He knelt down and snapped her neck. Reaching into her pocket, he removed a set of car keys and a cell phone, then he picked her body up and dropped it in a Dumpster, dropping the lid quietly. Then he strolled back down the sidewalk, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of the jacket he was now wearing and lighting one.
He hit redial on the cell phone.
“Yes?”
“It’s Rosier.”
“Ah. Man voice. Suits you better. Did you find something nice?”
“Oh, I found a pretty pretty boy. Sam’s gonna love him.”
“Good luck getting between the two of them.”
“Ok, so, monogamy and boy king with his own demon army don’t go together so much. Right? When he’s…ripe, I’ll be there for him.”
“Just… could you get back here? And bring coffee. And donuts. My meatsuit’s getting weak.”
“You never listen to me. What did I tell you?”
“Always bring snacks to a stakeout.”
“I’ll be there in a few. Try not to die from starvation.”
Rosier put his cell phone in his jacket pocket. He pulled a driver’s license from the wallet in his back pocket and studied the photo. “Alex Haynes. Who’s a pretty boy? You are.”
~
At Sam’s urging, Dean mixed up a small batch of Adios Motherfuckers, mostly for Sam’s benefit since Dean would be driving. Sure enough, it went straight to Sam’s head and made him loose and giggly. Dean poured the remainder of the potent liquid into a flask and tucked into his coat pocket.
“Can we go? I want to go. Come on. Time to go.” Sam plucked at Dean’s shirt.
“I guess that means you’re ready.”
Sam laughed, wiggling his hips a little on the couch in eagerness. “Oh, I’m ready. Are you ready?”
They called ahead and came through the hallway to the common room.
Juliane was on the couch, reading. Danny sat at a small table, studying a chess board, a book of chess strategy in his hand.
“Awww man… you play chess?” Sam beamed. “I play chess! We should totally play chess.”
“But not now.” Dean put his arm around Sam.
“No. Not now. We’re going out.” Sam snuggled into Dean. Liquor made Sam even more tactile than normal.
Juliane fixed Sam with a serious expression. “You two be really careful out there.”
“We will. We won’t be out late.”
Sam stifled a giggle. Dean walked Sam out the other door, arm in arm. “Back soon,” he called behind him.
Juliane put her book down. “Those two. They’re so…”
“Cute together?” Danny looked up.
“Yes. They just… they’re not afraid to hug and touch and be affectionate.”
Danny swallowed, and turned his attention back to the chess board.
Juliane got up, heading toward the kitchen, then stopped partway there. She stood in place, facing Danny, fidgeting. Danny cocked his head.
“Um. I was wondering if…do you think you could…”
“Whatever you need. You know that.”
“Paul told me I should practice, um…practice hugging people. And I thought…if you didn’t mind…”
Danny shut his book with a snap, and sat motionless for a moment, then he rose to his feet slowly. “I could do that. If you’re sure.”
Juliane shifted her weight from one foot to the other, making her look curiously young. “I think so. I mean, I should. I mean… yes. I’m sure.” She raised her hands awkwardly and then dropped them again.
Danny walked to her, slowly, carefully, like he was approaching a wild horse and didn’t want to spook it. “Here. Why don’t you just...” He paused. “You lead. You need to lead.”
Juliane nodded. She dropped her gaze and moved closer. He raised his arms so she could slip hers underneath. She leaned forward at the waist, and put her arms around him in an awkward A-shaped hug.
He held her so gently, barely touching her. “Good. That’s real good. That’s great for a first—“
She moved closer, straightening up, into a proper hug, her chest and stomach lightly pressed against his.
“—time.” Danny kept his voice steady, keeping the squeak out of it with great effort.
“Hmmm,” Juliane murmured.
“You ok? Is this ok?”
She breathed out. “Nice.”
Danny stared at the far wall, trying not to breathe in the scent of her shampoo, trying not to breathe in the faint scent of her, a clean scent of soap and some kind of girly lotion. Trying not to breathe at all, or the moment would shatter, revealing itself to be not real.
Juliane nestled closer. “You’re shaking.”
“Really? Weird.” Danny laughed nervously. “So, how does it feel? I mean, are you… is it…”
“I feel safe.”
Danny closed his eyes to keep in the flare of emotion that threatened to drop him to his knees.
“I mean, I know I’m not.”
A spike of sadness mixed with a stinging lash of shame shot through him.
“No one is ever safe.” Her voice was soft, the side of her face pressed into his chest. “I learned that… when it happened. Everyone has this fantasy that they’re safe, and they just aren’t. That’s what it took from me. That illusion of being safe.” She pressed her palms against his back. “But right now? I feel safe.”
Danny’s arms tightened around her, trying not to squeeze her too much. “You are safe.” He dropped his head, daring to let himself press his cheek against her hair.
She did not pull away.
He nuzzled against her, the tiniest of movements. She made the softest of sounds.
“I promise. No one on Earth is safer than you are right now.” He held her. Just held her. Glorying in the unexpected gift of being allowed to simply hold her.
~
Reggie sat bolt upright in his chair. Two familiar figures emerged from the main office door and walked slowly toward the back of the parking lot.
Sam and Dean.
Reggie dropped his head in his hands and exhaled, releasing a breath he felt like he’d been holding since they first discovered Sam and Dean had run away from home. He ran his fingers through his long grey hair and jumped to his feet, grabbing his car keys. He ran down the stairs gracefully, and slid behind the wheel of his car without being spotted. They pulled out, and Reggie pulled out behind them. So intent was he on following the boys without being made that he did not notice the car pull out behind him from the side of the road.
He followed their car to the south side of town, where they parked and walked, arm in arm, down the sidewalk. Reggie parked his car further down the street, and walked rapidly after them, not wanting to call out to them for fear of spooking them, hoping to catch up to them before they made it to wherever they were going. He was too late. They approached a club—a gay club, based on the posters on the front door—and flashed their IDs at a bouncer who waved them inside without looking. Reggie stopped in his tracks. The bouncer gave him an appraising, appreciative look. “Don’t be shy. Plenty of boys in there looking for a hot daddy to play with.”
Reggie’s brow furrowed, and he took a step toward the bouncer. “I don’t play with boys.” His voice was a low rumble, graveled and rough and full of dark promise. The bouncer took a step back, palms up. Reggie pondered his options. Follow them into a gay club where they had clearly gone as a couple, and have an impossibly awkward scene, or wait for them to come out. He swore under his breath and stalked away. He stopped at a liquor store and got a microwave burrito, more coffee, some snacks, and a bottle of the best whiskey they had, to bring back to the motel. Then he got back into his car and settled in to wait for the boys to emerge.
He saw, but not did particularly register, a tall, dark-haired young man get out of a car and walk into the club behind them. He could not see the dark-haired man’s eyes flash black, or the bouncer’s eyes flash black in response.
~
Inside, the club was bustling. Dean slipped the flask out of his pocket and took a swig, then offered it to Sam. Sam took a deep drink of the sweet cocktail. “Yummy.”
“You really do like your candy.” Dean couldn’t hold back the grin.
Sam pursed his lips, canting his hips to the side in a surprisingly sassy move. “Yes I do.” He stuck his tongue between his teeth. “Speaking of which…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an AstroPop. Peeling the plastic off, he stuck the end into his mouth.
Dean stared at him. “You didn’t.”
“Oh yes I did.” Sam sucked on the AstroPop. Dean’s eyes weren’t the only ones suddenly on Sam, watching his lips slide down the cone-shaped candy. Everyone within viewing range was staring. Sam dragged Dean further inside the club, stopping partway to spin around and crush his mouth up against Dean’s. Dean groaned at the taste of cherry, licking at Sam’s sugared lips. Sam pulled away with a smirk, and stuck the candy back in his mouth, sealing his lips around it and pulling it out slowly.
“Jesus, Sammy…” Dean shifted his weight, making more room in his jeans for his growing erection.
Sam leaned close so Dean could hear every word, breathing in the scent of cherry. “I want to put this right next to your cock and suck on both of them at the same time.”
Dean gripped Sam with both hands and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Then he pulled back, breathed into Sam’s ear, “What are you trying to do, Sammy? Kill me?”
“Wanna give you what you want.” Sam sucked on the candy again. “Wanna give you everything.”
The DJ spoke over the song he was playing. “Welcome, girls and boys, to Sassy’s. This is our place, where we can be free to love who we love and dance like no one cares what you look like.” The crowd roared at that. “We’re gonna kick off Old School 70s night with our theme song. So grab your partner and get on the floor because Marvin’s in the house… The familiar guitar lick spilled out of the speakers, and Marvin Gaye’s voice followed. I’ve been really trying, baby… The dance floor suddenly turned into prom night, with couples swaying back and forth with their arms around each other, many of the regulars singing along.
Sam dropped the candy to the floor and tugged on Dean’s hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”
“Sam. I don’t dance.”
“Yeah you do.” Sam remembered Dean practicing for his prom, asking Sam to pretend to be a girl so he could rehearse some dance moves and not look like an idiot.
Dean let Sam lead him onto the dance floor, and held Sam as they did the slow dance sway and shuffle. They moved in sync immediately, moving in perfect rhythm to the music. Two boys next to them sang along, making dramatic gestures as they danced. “We’re all sensitive people…with so much to give…”
Dean held Sam close, stunned at how surprisingly intimate it was, just dancing with Sam. Dancing. With Sam. Letting his mouth move against Sam’s neck. In public. No one particularly watching. No one particularly caring.
It was glorious.
Marvin sang, I love you. Dean tipped Sam’s face up and looked him in the eyes, letting the song speak for him, feeling Sam pressed up against him.
The crowd sang along loudly on the next part. There…is nothing wrong…with me loving you… Sam’s mouth fell open. Dean forgot to breathe. Giving yourself to me…can never be wrong…if the love is true… Dean smiled at his Sammy, eyes blurring with tears. Sam stilled and offered up his mouth to Dean. Everyone around them moved and rocked and swayed to the music, with Sam and Dean, lost in their kiss, still and calm in the center like the eye of a storm.
The DJ melded the end of the song with another song, and Sam tugged Dean off the dance floor to a relatively secluded corner of the club. Sam bumped up against Dean, hard and eager, limbs a bit loose from the alcohol. He kissed Dean again, more insistent. Wanting.
Dean was torn between wanting to take Sam up on his offer, and a low rumble of warning deep in his gut. “We gotta be careful, Sammy.”
Sam’s face fell, like Dean had offered him the keys to a sports car and then snatched them back again.
Dean sighed. “I want to. I really want to. But…maybe it’s not such a good idea. Drawing attention to ourselves. We’re supposed to be in hiding, remember?”
Sam looked like he was going to cry.
A dark-haired guy bumped into them hard, knocking Dean back away from Sam, ending up face to face with Sam, both his hands pressed against Sam’s chest. “Sorry! Crowded in here tonight.” He was taller than Dean, and wore black jeans and a sleeveless white a-shirt, revealing tanned, well-defined arms and an impressive shoulder-to-waist ratio. Sam couldn’t help but stare. Even Dean had to stare, despite the anger that flared through him. He radiated charisma, or pheromones, or something altogether intoxicating. He was beautiful. Beautiful and somehow wrong.
He smiled at Sam, showing white teeth that looked natural, not purchased. He dropped his hands in slow motion, dragging them down Sam’s chest lightly.
Dean growled low in his throat.
Sam’s head whipped around to stare at Dean. So did the dark-haired young man.
“You could hear that, huh.” Dean rubbed the back of his head.
“Yeah. Outside voice.” The stranger smiled at Dean and offered his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make a move on your guy.” Something in his eyes made Dean think, That’s a lie. He’s lying.
Dean shook his hand reluctantly, a chill in his gaze. “Well, he’s taken.”
The man turned back to Sam. Suddenly Dean felt like he had ceased to exist to him, even though his hand was still being shaken. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick.” He released Dean’s hand and extended his hand toward Sam. “Alex.”
Sam shook his hand. “Sam.” Dean stared at Sam in disbelief. Sam looked at Dean with an expression that clearly said, “What?”
Alex tilted his head like a thought had just occurred to him. “Hey, you two ever do a three-way?”
Dean stepped between Alex and Sam. “Not our scene, man. I think you better back off.”
“Now that’s a crying shame.” Alex looked over Dean’s shoulder at Sam’s mouth, and back up into his eyes. “Two guys serving you at once…it’s amazing what two can do that one can’t.”
Dean’s mouth twitched. “I said back off. Before you get hurt.” Dean’s hand went to his knife, strapped to his side. The knife that the bouncer had somehow not even bothered to check for.
Alex took a step back. “Ok. I get it. He’s all yours.” For now, the demon thought. “But you can’t blame me.” He looked at Sam again, desire rolling off him in waves. “He’s beautiful.”
Dean cocked his head to the side, preparing to make a move, and Alex stepped back with a laugh and walked away.
Dean blew out a breath through his nose.
The demon wearing the Alex suit walked to the bar, leaned on the counter and watched it unfold, the jealousy he had sparked in Dean bursting through him, making him forget his earlier caution, driving him to pull Sam to the far wall of the club.
Dean grabbed Sam, kissed him deep and hard, hands roaming all over his body. Sam gasped into Dean’s mouth, grinding against him.
“I didn’t like him putting his hands on you.” Dean ran his hands down Sam’s chest as if trying to wipe the memory of the other man’s touch from his skin. “Didn’t like it at all.”
Sam responded beautifully, arching up into Dean’s touch.
“You’re mine, Sammy.” Dean put his hands on both sides of Sam’s face. “And I don’t share.”
Sam swallowed hard. Dean kissed him, fierce and deep, claiming him. He moved his hand down between Sam’s legs and cupped him. Sam squirmed, moaning into Dean’s mouth.
The demon chuckled. He got up and moved through the room, fingertips brushing against this one’s arm, that one’s neck, whispering things people couldn’t exactly hear but responded to nonetheless. The energy shifted. Some people frowned, feeling suddenly ill at ease, and left the club. Those who stayed became more handsy, surreptitious caresses becoming more overt. The demon sidled up behind the DJ and whispered in his ear. The DJ nodded like someone just said something very wise to him, and changed the song, pulling a Donna Summer 12” single out of his stack of vinyl.
Ahhhh, love to love you baby… Ahhhh, love to love you baby…
Dean snickered, but Sam’s mouth on his shushed him. His hands slipped inside Dean’s shirt, palms hot against his skin, rocking his hips forward and back, rubbing his cock against Dean’s hand.
“Don’t be jealous. I’m just for you.” Sam’s mouth, warm on Dean’s neck. “Yours.” His tongue, tickling his skin. “No one else’s.”
Sam turned around, backed up against Dean, raised his hands over his head and behind Dean’s neck in a position of surrender. He moved his hips in time to the slow rhythm of the song, grinding against Dean’s cock, watching people watching them. The freedom of it was dizzying. Sam laughed with the joy of it. Dean slipped his hands under Sam’s shirt, caressed Sam’s flat belly. Sam closed his eyes and threw his head back with a throaty sound of pleasure that Dean felt reverberate against his chest more than he heard it. Then he opened his eyes again, felt the wealth of attention on them, shivered as people witnessed him and Dean, watched them with approval and appreciation and something akin to awe.
Around them, other hands roamed, other mouths explored each other. The air was thick, heady with something that loosened inhibitions.
Ahhhh, love to love you baby...
Sam undulated against Dean, pulling his shirt up and stroking his stomach as Dean’s hands rose to his chest. When Dean’s fingers closed on Sam’s hard little nipples, pinching lightly, Sam cried out, arching his back into it. Dean’s lips found the sensitive spot behind Sam’s left ear and teased it, increasing the pinch of his fingertips until Sam was panting and making sounds so loud Dean could hear them over the music.
Sam spun around to face Dean. He brushed his fingers over Dean’s mouth, his gorgeous pink lips, parted and yielding. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. Dean swiped his tongue over his lower lip and drank in Sam’s adoration.
Donna Summer moaned, repeated her mantra. Ahhh, love to love you baby… her moans turning to cries of ecstasy. Shy young men found themselves shamelessly rubbing against their partner’s strong thighs, mouths open with pleasure. A girl with short hair straddled the thigh of a long-haired girl sitting on a bench seat, arms wrapped around each other, grinding against each other. A couple of not-shy young men found themselves bent over a table, pants tugged down, fingers being worked inside them.
The bouncer shut the front door and locked it. He stood in front of it with his beefy arms crossed, eyes gone black, a smile stretching his face.
The demon wearing the flesh of Alex Haynes stood in the center of the dance floor, spinning slowly with arms outstretched, then stretched his hands to the ceiling, one at a time, hips swaying, back curving side to side, dancing all by himself, reveling in what was happening.
Ahhhh, love to love you baby...
Sam’s hands worked at Dean’s zipper. “You can do anything you want with me.” He pulled the zipper down slowly. “To me.” A shiver rattled through Dean.
The guys closest to them stared rapt as Sam drew Dean’s cock out, stroked it gently. “I’m yours,” Sam whispered. “I’ll show you. I’ll show everyone.”
Sam sank to his knees.
Dean gasped.
Sam looked up at him through his brown hair, ran his hands up Dean’s thighs. “Anything.” He took Dean’s cock in one hand, and licked a stripe up the underside, eyes fixed on Dean’s.
Dean’s head fell back, smacking into the wall. Sam swallowed his cock to the root, moaning at the feel of it in his mouth.
The demon Rosier, wearing his new Alex suit, spun around and strutted slowly in time to the music toward the far wall, an expectant grin on his face. At the sight of Sam on his knees for Dean, the grin evaporated, replaced by a look of fury. Just then, the bouncer laid his hand on his shoulder.
“Rosier. Easy.”
“He should not be on his knees,” Rosier hissed. “The other one should be on his knees for him. Worshiping him.”
“This is what He wants. Isn’t it? For him to indulge all his base urges?” The bouncer laughed. “He doesn’t care who’s on his knees.”
“It’s unseemly,” Rosier spat.
Suddenly, his head whipped to the side, nostrils flaring like he smelled something delicious. A cluster of straight kids, girls who had dragged their boyfriends to the gay club, stood with mouths agape, watching the debauchery unfolding. The girls giggled. The two young men watched with stony faces.
“Perfect,” Rosier murmured. “Fucking ideal. Just what the doctor ordered.” He circled them, came up behind them, laid his hands lightly on their shoulders, whispered in their ears. “Look at him. Look at the pervert. What he’s making that innocent boy do to him.” Fingers caressing the back of their necks. Their eyes glazing over. Hands clenching into fists. “It’s disgusting.”
Sam lavished Dean with attention, worshiping him with his mouth and tongue, with his whole soul. Dean stroked Sam’s hair, shivering at what Sam was doing to him. He was aware that people close to him were watching, watching Sam suck him down, watching Sam on his knees for Dean, showing everyone how much he wanted Dean, how much he loved him.
It was right and wrong and so intense he couldn’t stand it. He clutched Sam’s head and came in his mouth, gasping as Sam swallowed it all down, hand between his legs stripping his cock furiously until he came too, spattering the floor, even hitting the wall.
Sam panted, forehead pressed against Dean’s thigh, then stood, quickly tucking himself back in his jeans. Dean did the same. “Jesus, Sammy. I can’t believe you did that.”
Sam looked at Dean, concern bright in his eyes. “It was ok, though, right?” Dean could see it, the veil of oh god I went too far didn’t I dropping over Sam’s eyes, the flood of shame about to rise up in him, a flutter of panic.
“It was incredible. Sam. You were incredible.” He smoothed Sam’s hair back, kissed him soft and sweet. “So good for me, Sammy.” The phrase soothed Sam immediately. “I love you. So much.” Sam nestled into his arms, practically purring with satisfaction and relief that he hadn’t done something bad.
Dean looked around. People seemed confused, looking around the room like something unfathomable had just happened. A few boys were crying. As soon as Sam came, the demon lost interest in sustaining the energy that had loosened everyone’s inhibitions. Everyone was back in full possession of their faculties—and some people didn’t like what had just transpired.
“Let’s get out of here.” Dean didn’t understand what was going on—they had been so wrapped up in each other hadn’t even noticed the debauchery taking place elsewhere—but he felt a strong desire to leave. He took Sam’s hand and led him to the door. It was unlocked and wide open, as though it had always been that way. The bouncer nodded at them as they left. “Have a nice night.”
Rosier walked to the place where they had been and crouched down. He dragged two fingers through the ejaculate Sam had spilled on the floor, and stuck them into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut, sucking the taste off his fingers with a moan.
Then he came up behind the two young men to whom he’d been whispering. “Something should be done, don’t you think? He needs to pay.” They nodded in unison. Rosier leaned in closer and whispered, “Fuck up that pretty face of his. Go.”
He turned to the girls, flashing a dazzling smile, fixing them with all the force of his attention. “Your friends have to step out for a little bit. But that’s ok. Right?”
“Right.” The girls blinked rapidly, vacuous smiles on their faces.
He brought them to the bar and ordered them two Long Island Iced Teas. The bartender mixed them up without carding them.
“Now you just sit here quietly like good little girls and enjoy your drinks.” Rosier gestured to the bouncer to come with him, and followed the two young men out of the club, and down the street after Sam and Dean. “You make sure they don’t hurt Sam,” he said to the bouncer.
“What are you going to do?”
“Hide in the shadows and watch him learn how good it feels to take his vengeance.” Witness the boy taking another step towards becoming the King he was destined to be, he thought.
Sam and Dean walked slowly towards where they had parked the car.
The bouncer led them down a parallel street, the four of them running to get ahead of the boys. They cut through an alley connecting the two streets. Rosier took up a position in an unlit doorway to a shuttered business, nearly undetectable in the shadows. The bouncer watched from the corner. “Here they come.”
Sam and Dean walked a little further. Sam stared at a car across the street. “Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that… oh god. Dean. I think that’s Reggie.” Sam’s face drained of color. He walked a few steps past the alley, peering at the white-haired man getting out of the parked car. The shock of recognition was so extreme, as was the fear that shot through him, that he didn’t register that Dean was no longer standing next to him.
~
The bouncer’s hand closed over Dean’s mouth as he yanked Dean off his feet and pulled him backward into the dark alley. Dean struggled, writhing in his grasp, kicking, trying to cry out for Sam, to bite the bouncer’s hand. But immediately, two more were on top of him. A fist connected with his jaw hard, sending dazzling lights exploding behind his eyes, making him dizzy.
“Fucking faggot,” the light-haired one said. Dean kicked out hard. Another fist, this time on his mouth, splitting his lip open. “Sam,” he croaked, weakly, as the blows fell hard and merciless.
“Goddamn homo,” the other one said. “You queers make me sick.” A hand reaching for the leather cord around Dean’s neck, fingers closing over the amulet. “What is this, a homo necklace? Your faggot boyfriend give this to you?” A sharp yank, and the cord broke. Dean reached out for the amulet. The young man stood up, and brought his boot forward sharply, connecting with Dean’s chin, opening a nasty cut, rendering Dean barely conscious.
~
Sam stared at Reggie, face frozen in shock. Reggie shouted at him, pointed behind him, raced toward him, running flat out. Sam looked around, confused, and realized Dean was gone, and behind him, sounds of a scuffle in the alley. “Dean!” Sam turned and ran into the alley, Reggie right on his heels.
“All faggots should fucking die.” The light-haired one smashed his fist into Dean’s face again. Reggie froze, something in his eyes changing, a terrible memory called to mind.
The two guys assaulting Dean barely had time to register the presence of new players on the field when Sam was on them like a snarling, feral animal. The light-haired one raised his fist, saw it was Sam, and froze. Sam sent him flying through the air and crashing into the brick wall hard. Reggie grabbed him by the front of his shirt and laid him out cold with a single blow.
Sam fell on the second man like a thing possessed, lifting him up in the air and slamming him down on the ground, kicking him in the ribs and stomach, then straddling him and pummeling him again and again, face contorted with rage. A faint click as a tooth skittered across the concrete. Then another. The man’s hands remained at his sides the whole time Sam was hitting him. And Sam continued to hit him.
Reggie’s mouth twitched. He made no move to stop Sam.
In the shadows, Rosier clapped his hands together in silent glee. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”
“Sammy,” Dean choked out. Sam looked at him, then down at the bleeding body beneath him. He saw the strands of leather cord dangling from the man’s hand, and yanked the amulet free with his left hand, then punched him one more time, snapping his fist brutally hard across his nose, breaking it. Sam pulled his arm back, fingers curled up, palm forward. Hey, Sammy… did you know you can kill someone by breaking their nose? Look. You just break his nose and then shove the bone up into his brain. Just hit it with the palm of your hand like this…lights out forever.
“Sam.” Sam’s focus snapped to Reggie. The hard line of his mouth showed that he knew perfectly well what Sam was on the verge of doing. He shook his head no. Sam drew his fist back, and punched him one more time, across his temple, knocking him out completely.
A large shape moved past them, as the bouncer went to flee down the street. He stopped dead. Reggie blocked his way, silver hair backlit by the street light behind him, blade drawn.
The bouncer saw the markings on the blade, and his eyes flashed black.
“Sam?” Reggie called out in a steady voice. “Demon.”
Sam’s hand went to his knife.
So did Dean’s, sitting up on his elbow.
The bouncer feinted toward Reggie then raced the other way, leaping over Dean’s outstretched legs.
Dean’s knife caught him on the thigh, slicing a gash into the meat, yellowy fat bulging out. The bouncer yelped, clutching his leg, and fell. His eyes, glittering black, opened even wider. “What the hell?” Sweat erupted on his brow. “Oh… oh, that’s horrible.” He gripped his leg, rocking back and forth, moaning. “What is that?” He fell back, writhing in agony, heels thumping against the concrete… and then black smoke poured out of his mouth and nose, rose into the air and fled into the night sky. The bouncer blinked his eyes in confusion, coming back to himself…then lay his head down and passed out.
Sam slid over to Dean, held him in his arms. “Dean!” His hand shook as he stroked Dean’s hair, looked down at his swollen, bleeding face. Tears streaked Sam’s face. “Oh god. Dean.”
Reggie bent over the light-haired young man, smacked his cheek until his eyes fluttered open, and held the blade of his knife in front of his face. His eyes did not change. He quickly did the same to the other one. No change there either.
“Come on, son. We gotta get out of here.” Reggie knelt at Sam’s side and put his hand on his arm. His eyes were wet with tears. “Get Dean back to the Sanctuary.”
Sam and Dean stared at Reggie in shock.
Reggie smiled grimly. “Told you I was good.”
Reggie wiped Dean’s knife off on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket and slid the knife back in its sheath, a curious smile on his face. Then he bent down, picked up Dean like he weighed nothing, and carried him out of the alley.
Behind him, Rosier emerged from the shadows. He toed the bouncer with his boot. He groaned and opened his eyes. “What happened?”
The bouncer looked around him, confused. “I was… god, I was working, and then…this thing crawled inside me and…” He stared at Rosier, memory returning. “It was evil. It made me do things. And…you.”
Rosier shook his head, and broke the bouncer’s neck neatly and efficiently. He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, that little trick was unexpected, boys. Bet you didn’t pick that knife up at Walmart.” He chewed on a hangnail, walking back to where the man in the charcoal suit was waiting for him. “What to do, what to do.”
~
Reggie carried him quickly to his car and laid Dean, groggy but conscious, on the wide back seat. “Sam, you get your car. We’ll drive back together.”
Sam’s mouth hardened. “I’m not leaving him.”
Reggie surveyed Sam’s stubborn expression, and nodded. “Of course not.” He tossed Sam his keys. “You drive. I’ll take yours.” Sam fished the car keys out of Dean’s pocket and gave them to Reggie. Reggie got into Sam and Dean’s stolen car and followed Sam back to the motel. He breathed a sigh of relief when they passed over the salt bump. Reggie carried Dean in his arms, his blood staining the front of his shirt, and Sam led him into the inner sanctum.
Danny and Juliane jumped to their feet as Sam ran into the common room, followed by someone they did not know carrying a half-conscious, bleeding Dean.
Sam blurted out, “It’s ok. He’s with us.”
Danny shot Reggie a look as if to say, “I knew you were a hunter.” Reggie didn’t even notice. Juliane shoved books off the long dining table. “Put him down here.”
Dean moaned as Reggie laid him down on the table. “Sam?”
Danny and Juliane both blinked in surprise at the name.
“Dean. I’m right here.” Sam touched Dean’s chest gently. Dean smiled up at Sam, blood staining his teeth. Sam pulled the amulet out of his pocket, slipped the cord around Dean’s neck carefully, and tied it together again securely. “It’s ok. I got it back.”
Dean closed his hand over the amulet like it had pained him every second it wasn’t there. “Thank you,” he whispered. Sam’s face contorted, trying hard to not burst into sobs right there in front of Reggie and everyone.
“What happened?” Danny asked, running warm water into a bucket.
“These guys. Pulled Dean into an alley. Called him… they called him…” Sam stammered, unable to continue, fresh tears spilling down his face.
“Things that ignorant fucktards call gay people.” Reggie’s face was grim. “But it wasn’t just a hate crime. Two of them were human. One of them was a demon.”
Juliane and Danny looked stunned.“What… how did you…” They spoke simultaneously.
“I’ll explain everything. As best I can. Later. We need to see to him first.” Reggie gestured toward Dean.
Juliane went to a large armoire containing a wide range of medical supplies, grabbed a few items, and returned to the table. “I need to look him over…Sam.”
Sam flinched, realizing they’d used their real names.
“It’s ok. We’ll still keep all your secrets.” Her voice was soothing. “Do I have your permission to examine him?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Dean.” Dean blinked at the sound of his real name on her lips. “I need to check out your injuries. May I touch you?”
Dean nodded.
“I’ll do my best not to hurt you.” Juliane dipped a clean cloth in the warm water Danny brought her, and lightly swabbed Dean’s face, cleaning the blood away. Dean winced, but did not make any other sound. Delicately, slowly, she cleaned Dean’s face, revealing the injuries beneath. “Tell me if anything I touch causes a sharp pain.” She gently pressed her fingers against the bones of his face. Nothing caused Dean to speak up.
“Did they hurt you anywhere else?”
“No. Just my face.”
“Good. Ok, nothing seems to be broken. Not even that perfect nose of yours.” She smiled. Dean smiled back, and winced at the pain in his mouth. “You’re going to have a nice shiner on that right eye. You have a split lip, but that will heal without stitches.” Her expression changed as she dabbed at the blood welling on the jagged cut on the right side of his chin. “This, though.”
“What?”
“This isn’t going to heal well without stitches. And even then, you’re going to have a scar.”
“Chicks dig scars,” Dean murmured. Juliane smiled.
“Funny.” She patted his hand. “Now, I’ve got everything we need here to stitch you up, but I’m no doctor. I can keep you from getting infected, but I can’t guarantee I’ll keep you as handsome as you were. If you want, we can take you to a hospital for a plastic surgeon.”
“No hospitals.” Three voices spoke in unison. Dean, Sam and Reggie glanced at each other.
“I can do it.” Sam’s voice was steady, assured.
Everyone stared at Sam.
“I can do it.” Sam repeated, squeezing Dean’s hand. “You taught me how. Remember?”
Dean closed his eyes, emotion rising within him at the memory. It felt like another lifetime, but it was just a few months before when he had taught Sam how to do running subcutaneous sutures on an orange peel. If you do it right, you can’t even see the seam. So like when you get your face sliced open during a hunt for being a dumbass, I can keep you looking pretty.
“Let Sam do it.” Dean looked up at Sam, his battered face soft and trusting.
Sam scrubbed his hands with antiseptic, wincing at the sting on the scrapes on his knuckles. He selected the curved needle he needed and the other tools. Juliane gave Dean a local anesthetic. The shot was clearly extremely painful for him, but he didn’t make a sound.
Reggie witnessed this with pride.
“Ok. Here we go.”
Dean touched Sam on the arm. “Keep me pretty, Sammy.”
Sam opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, glancing at Reggie. “Of course.”
Then with exquisite care, Sam stitched up Dean’s laceration. Juliane leaned over, rapt, watching the technique. Sam’s hands moved with the skill of a surgeon, the grace of an artist. “Amazing,” Juliane breathed. Sam smiled shyly, but kept his focus on Dean. He moved slowly, placing each stitch underneath the surface of the skin, just the way Dean had taught him, drawing the cut closed perfectly, with the utmost care. With reverence.
Reggie watched Sam work, his face grey. “You look like you could use a drink.” Danny moved next to Reggie.
“I surely could.”
“What do you drink?”
“Whiskey. Bourbon if you have it.”
“Maker’s Mark?”
“Nice.”
Danny poured a generous shot of bourbon into a highball glass. “Ice?”
“Two.”
He added two cubes of ice and handed it to Reggie. He took his neat.
Reggie watched Sam stitch up Dean’s battered face, and drank his whiskey. His hand shook so much the ice rattled in the glass.
“You ok? Did you get hurt?”
Reggie shook his head. “Didn’t lay a hand on me.”
Danny scrutinized Reggie’s face, and read his body language.
“You’ve seen this before.”
Reggie turned his focus to Danny, piercing blue eyes challenging him to ask the question on his lips.
“I know the look.” Danny took a drink.
Reggie’s eyes softened.
“Yeah. I’ve seen this before.” Reggie took another deep drink of bourbon, trying to keep his hand steady, trying to stave off the memories of cradling Nathan, bloodied and battered, in his arms. Goddamn faggots.
Finally, Sam tied off the last of the sutures. Juliane looked upon his work with awe. “That’s just astonishing.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You could be a surgeon.”
Dean spoke up. “He could be anything.” He tried to smile without pulling the cut in his lip apart. “He’s just that good.” Sam gave a shy, pleased smile at Dean’s praise.
Juliane dressed the wound with an antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage. “You two look like you need some rest.” Juliane pressed a plastic bottle into Sam’s hand. “Painkillers. He’ll need them.”
“I’m moving you down here to the Sanctuary,” Danny said to Reggie. “It’s safer.”
“I’d be obliged,” Reggie said.
“It’s just us now, by the way.” Danny looked at Sam and Dean. “Everyone else has moved on.”
This thought was curiously reassuring to both of them.
Juliane chimed in. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Danny went to set one of the apartments up for Reggie. Reggie accompanied Sam and Dean back to their apartment, Dean leaning on Sam for support.
Inside, Sam lowered Dean carefully to the couch. Dean winced. Sam brought him a glass of water and gave him a pain pill. He went to hold Dean’s hand, and pulled his hand back, wiping it on his jeans, trying not to look at Reggie. He looked miserable.
“We’re not going back, you know. So don’t think you can drag us back.”
Dean stared at Sam. They hadn’t talked about this.
“Dean. I’m not going back. Ever. I can’t, I just can’t go back to things the way they were before…” Sam struggled, wanting to say things he just couldn’t say in front of Reggie.
Reggie sat down on a chair across from the couch. He wiped his hand across his mouth. “Before I say what I’m about to say, I need both of you to be real clear on this first. It’s ok.” He fixed Sam with a serious gaze. “You got that? It’s ok.”
Sam looked worried. “I got it.”
“And you. You got it?” Reggie turned his attention to Dean.
“It’s ok. Whatever it is.”
Reggie blew out a breath. “I know.”
Sam’s head jerked back slightly, in confusion. “You know what?”
“I know about the two of you.”
Dean shook his head no, realization dawning. Sam still could not fathom what Reggie was saying.
“You…what?”
“That you’re…together.” Sam looked stricken. “And it’s ok.”
Sam started to shake, panic flooding him. “Dean?”
“Son, what did I just tell you?” Reggie cocked his head.
“You said it was ok.” Sam stared at Reggie in utter disbelief. “You know? And it’s ok?”
“Yup.”
Sam and Dean stared at Reggie, trying to take in the enormity of what he was saying.
Reggie knelt in front of them, put Sam’s hand inside Dean’s, and closed both his hands over them. “You’re in love. And you’re with each other. And you need to know it’s ok.”
Tears welled up in Dean’s eyes, and streamed openly down Sam’s face. Their hands trembled.
Reggie squeezed their hands again, gently. “And another thing you need to know right now is that I’m not here to take you back. John didn’t send me. I sent me.” He released their hands and sat back down. “I came to help you. That’s all.”
Sam let go of Dean’s hand and nearly knocked Reggie backward in his chair with the force of his hug.
“Strong fucker, isn’t he?” Reggie looked over Sam’s shoulder at Dean.
“Sam. Don’t break him.”
Sam eased up. “How did you know?” he said softly.
“It’s clear as day, if you know how to look.” Reggie patted Sam’s back. “Now you two have had a hell of a day, and I’m beat to hell myself. I could use another drink and a good eight hours of shuteye.” Sam went to Dean and sat back down next to him. He held Dean’s hand, eyes flickering to Reggie as though he was still afraid he would stand up, point his finger at them and scream, “Freaks!”
Reggie did no such thing. He simply smiled.
Then he spoke. “Now I’m not here to lay down the law, but I do need to remind you of common sense. Do not set foot outside this place again. Y’all are protected in here, and it damn well isn’t safe out there. Now I ain’t mad that you did, and what happened tonight isn’t your fault, but I’m guessing this is the first time anything bad’s happened when you left the Sanctuary, right?”
They nodded.
“I don’t believe what happened to Dean tonight was an accident.” Sam dropped his head, hit by this statement a lot harder than Reggie had any idea. “There’s demons out there, using humans for god knows what purposes, and until we figure out what the hell is going on, you two need to stay put. You need anything from the outside world, we’ll bring it to you. But you stay here. Got it?”
They nodded again.
“Reggie? What happened? With the knife?” Dean asked.
“That’s a longer story than any of us got energy for tonight. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
Dean nodded. “You’re right. Tomorrow. Better.” His voice was already a little slurred.
“Sam, you get him to bed, and get some sleep.”
Dean rose to his feet with a grimace, and extended his arms. Reggie grinned, and gave him a long, gentle hug.
“I’m glad you found us, man.” Dean thumped Reggie on the back.
“Me too.”
“Wish it had been a couple of minutes earlier, though.”
Reggie gave a little laugh, but Sam saw his face darken, guilt staining his features. “Me too, son. Me too.”
He left them and went to settle in to his new accommodations.
“Gonna have to skip my teeth brushing tonight, Sammy,” Dean tried to joke, touching his swollen mouth gingerly.
Sam said nothing, just looked at Dean, eyes wide.
Dean got it.
“Hey. Hey. It’s not your fault.”
Sam still said nothing, but his breath came a little faster.
“Not your fault, Sammy.” Dean reached for Sam, pulled him close.
“Ok.”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise.”
“I won’t.”
Sam brought Dean to bed and settled him beneath the blankets like he was the most precious thing in the world. “Guess it’s your turn to take care of me for a while, huh, Sammy…” Dean murmured sleepily.
Sam bit his lip, and stroked Dean’s chest. “Yeah. My turn now.”
The drug flooding his system, Dean was soon feeling no pain and fell into deep slumber.
Sam stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thinking about how nobody had raised a hand against him, a single phrase repeating in his head.
Sam Winchester is not to be touched.
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Date: 2013-06-21 01:14 am (UTC)Two: This was hard, but really good. I can see how it was necessary, and it does something for the story that I think it really needed. Still hard, but so worth it.
Man I love Reggie.
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Date: 2013-06-21 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-21 02:46 am (UTC)I adored Juliane hugging Danny, and his reaction. It was all just perfect.
The club scene - hot...but, well, you always like to throw us for a loop don't ya? It was so very well done. Reggie's following him, the way the demons manipulated everything about the situation, Dean's being so freaked about losing the amulet, Sam's rage and protective drive. The knives! I cannot wait to heat Reggie's explanation. And Reggie, OMG, so sad, I wanna hug him.
Maybe my favorite part, was Reggie telling them he knows and it's ok. Everyone should get that from someone in their life.
Thank you so much for such a wonderful update! <3
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Date: 2013-06-21 03:43 am (UTC)And yes, everybody should get that from someone in their life. I'm glad I could give it to my Sam and Dean.
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Date: 2013-06-21 05:36 am (UTC)If you ever decide to start a cult, I will happily be one of your minions, fanning your fevered brow while beautiful boys feed you grapes as you type.
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Date: 2013-06-21 06:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-21 03:31 pm (UTC)Indeed I will be a reader minion and rave about your books to my friends.
Wow, a beautiful boy to clean my kitchen, THAT would be the life. I agree, much better than grapes.
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Date: 2013-06-21 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-21 07:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-21 06:17 am (UTC)<3
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Date: 2013-06-21 06:21 am (UTC)Actually, I will be clarifying that in the next chapter, but Dean's knife just exorcised the demon. It didn't kill it.
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Date: 2013-06-21 06:24 am (UTC)<3
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Date: 2013-06-21 01:31 pm (UTC)As usual, you've woven an intricate chapter and I'm dying for more.
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Date: 2013-06-21 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-21 06:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-21 06:55 pm (UTC)Reggie's pain at the scene of Dean's attack was a punch to the gut, and it's almost like the love Sam and Dean have are a balm to help fixing his own broken heart.
Sam's thought in killing, how easy it would be, and teetering on the edge of rage and reason - had Reggie not stepped in - would Sam have done it?
I loved the comfort and gain of trust scene with Juliane and Danny.
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Date: 2013-06-22 07:15 pm (UTC)I love Reggie and I was so glad he was there to help and especially to keep Sam from killing that guy. Sam's rage issues worry me greatly, and I hope he'll manage to keep them in check and not give the demons what they want. This scene giving Reggie flashbacks to what happened to his lover was painful but such an important motivation for his continuing support for the boys. Loved it when he told them it was all OK. *happy sigh* I think they really needed to hear that.
I also loved the knives finally coming into play and am very curious as to their story. I was also really glad you saved the Samulet - its loss hurts every time and I'm glad you fixed it immediately.
Danny's and Juliane's hug was lovely as well, it's good to see them making progress as well.
This was another amazing chapter, m'dear, and it definitely made my day. :) Thank you.
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Date: 2013-11-14 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-14 06:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-15 01:56 am (UTC)