Fiction: Hell and Fury - Part 3 - NC-17
INFO Part 1
Part 2
November 2nd 1993
A scream filled the air. John Winchester ran toward it with his shotgun drawn. He tore across the parking lot as fast as he could. By the time he reached the edge of the woods the screams had faded, but John was still sure what direction to take. It was getting dark fast and he needed to hurry. He rushed headlong into the woods and stopped when a figure stepped in his path impatient with the delay.
"You're a bit late to the party, mate," the person in the shadows said. He stepped forward until he stood in a pool of light. John Constantine lit a cigarette and tossed the spent match to the ground. He was dressed the same as the first time they'd met. The beige trench coat even looked like the same coat, though maybe a bit worse for wear. His black suit and tie were rumpled as if from a struggle, and his tie wasn't quite straight.
John Winchester swung his gun to rest it on his shoulder.
"You son of a bitch," he said with a smile and chuckle. John rushed forward and smacked Constantine on his back, sending the man stumbling.
"Great to see you too," Constantine said as he turned back to the woods and motioned for John to follow.
They trekked through the forest for a few hundred feet before coming to a clearing. Constantine looked taken aback, at first as he seemed to search for something that wasn't there.
"It was right here," Constantine said, pointing at the ground. A scream from overhead tore the air and John fell to the ground as something heavy hit him from above. The weight crushed him to the ground, knocking his shotgun from his hand and sending it flying across the clearing. John struggled ferociously with the thing that had him pinned. Then, just as suddenly, the weight was gone and John rolled onto this back, scrambling to his feet. His limbs felt like lead weights as he struggled to stand. He caught a glimpse of the thing. It was something large and hairy and it tore out of the clearing too fast for John to get a good look.
"What the hell was that," John asked as he rushed to get his shotgun. Constantine handed him a stick that looked useless.
"This is the only thing that can kill it," Constantine said. John stared down at the white, foot-long, three-inch-thick, normal-looking piece of wood. It looked like nothing more than a branch someone had snapped off a tree, only with its bark missing. John stared down at the thing.
"You're kidding, right?" John said, looking back up at Constantine. The man stepped back from John and turned just as the creature rushed at them from the darkness of the forest. John instinctively raised the hand holding the stick and stabbed out at the thing, which was barreling toward them at a breakneck speed. He missed and the creature rushed past them to vanish once again into the woods.
"You almost had it," Constantine said. He pulled a candy wrapper from his coat pocket and popped a bit of chocolate into his mouth as he took two steps from John. Then to John's amazement, Constantine dropped the wrapper on the ground.
"I almost had it?" John said, incredulous at the man's behavior. "What about..." John didn't get to finish his thought as Constantine spun him around. The creature slashed out at John. Two sharp claws ripped a hole in John's jacket just above his heart, and then it was gone again.
"Look alive, squire," Constantine said, jumping forward. He stumbled and fell against John, pinning him against a tree trunk. John didn't hesitate this time. He stabbed out and hit something solid. A scream like nothing he'd ever heard filled the air. John released the stake and heard something hit the ground, and then all was silent. He could hear birds chirping and suddenly realized that there hadn't been any animal noises just a few minutes ago. He made that discovery at about the same time that he realized he'd put his arm around Constantine when they'd fallen against the tree.
"You can let me go now," Constantine said with a twinkle in his eye. John pushed him away and looked down to find nothing but grass and moss on the ground where he swore he'd heard whatever he'd stabbed fall. He looked all around the area, but couldn't see anything except a candy wrapper. Whatever they'd just tangled with had been bent on attacking, but it went wild when Constantine had thrown the wrapper.
"What was that candy wrapper about?" John asked as he turned to face Constantine. He was convinced that he wouldn't find whatever he'd just killed. Maybe he hadn't killed it at all. Maybe the thing had skulked back into the woods when they weren't looking. It was fast and, after all, John had barely seen it move to begin with. He'd probably just injured the thing and it had dragged itself away faster than they could see.
"Sprites hate litterbugs," Constantine said with a smirk.
"What?" John said, completely taken aback. "Sprites? What the hell is a sprite?"
"A wee forest critter," Constantine said, bending to pick up the wrapper. He stood up straight and put the wrapper in his pocket.
"Wee," John said. "That's ridiculous."
"Wee," Constantine said, holding his hand up with his thumb and index finger as far apart as they could be.
"No way," John said, shaking his head. He'd seen a large shape. He was sure of that. There was no way that this thing had been tiny. He looked on the forest floor again but still saw nothing. "Where did it go?"
"It's still there," Constantine insisted. He stepped past John and smiled. "You just can't see it. Don't feel badly that you were fooled. That's what they do. They trick you into believing they're bigger than they are and, before you know it, you're done for."
"Well, glad I could help," John said. "Why couldn't you catch the thing?" He retrieved his shotgun from where it had fallen, hoisting it over his shoulder.
They started heading out of the woods and Constantine stopped abruptly and placed a hand on John's chest.
"Because you've got better reflexes than me," he said with more sincerity than John was sure he meant. He must have had a look of disbelief on his face because Constantine was nodding. "You do." He turned back to the path and John followed him out of the woods. When they reached the paved parking lot, John half expected Constantine to walk away without a word, but the man stood beside him, staring out at the darkened night. There was only one street lamp in the lot and it barely did the job of lighting the place.
"Seriously," John said, unable to help himself. "A sprite?"
Constantine nodded and pulled a cigarette out of his pack, lighting it despite the gust of wind that was building around them. "Could you be a love and give a bloke a lift?" Constantine asked after a few drags from his cigarette.
John nodded. "Sure, where are you headed?"
"Wherever you are, I suppose."
The motel John had rented before going out to the woods was just a few miles down the road. He'd left the boys at another motel with Dean in charge, because he'd been unsure what the mission would entail. Dean had been anxious to go with John but, with no clue of what he'd be up against. John felt it was safer to leave the boys out of it. Considering what or who John had run into, his instincts had served him well.
He parked the car in front of the room and got out, Constantine following. The room was dark with just the bathroom light on. It had only one bed and John's small duffel bag sat in the closet that was really just an indentation in the wall with a bar and those wooden hangers that can't be removed. Constantine closed the door behind him and smiled when he saw the ashtray on the small table.
John walked over to the duffel, bending to pull out the bottle of scotch he had stashed inside. He never drank around the boys, but sometimes he just needed it. He'd thought he could finish the hunt and be back with Sam and Dean before midnight, but there was no way he could look his boys in the eyes. Not that night he couldn't, considering the date. He'd known deep down inside what the real reason for leaving the boys alone and going out on a hunt had been. John could barely handle what day it was, let alone deal with how his boys would be feeling. Maybe Sammy wouldn't ask the same questions he did every year. Maybe Dean would forget what day it was, but John didn't think so. Dean never forgot and Sammy always looked so sad.
Constantine unwrapped two plastic cups and set them down on the table. He sat in one of the two chairs and held his hand out. John handed him the bottle and sat down across from him with a heavy sigh.
"I wasn't expecting company," John said, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands. He suddenly felt tired. "But you're welcome to stay here with me."
"That sounds like a proposal," Constantine said, unscrewing the cap of the bottle. He grinned and poured a generous amount into each cup. John reached for the one closest to him and raised the cup as if to make a toast. He gulped down the liquor before he could change his mind.
Constantine smirked and lifted his glass at John. "Cheers, mate." He drank it in one gulp and set the cup down, and then stood to remove his trench coat. While Constantine hung his coat in the closet, John poured them each another drink. He handed Constantine his cup and took a gulp from his own then sprawled back in his chair with his legs spread wide, his boots planted firmly on the wooden floor.
"Cheers," John said. He watched as Constantine removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie, lit a cigarette, and then carefully set his lighter down on the table. Was it a proposal? John examined Constantine's body. He was an attractive man and John couldn't deny that he'd felt something earlier back in the woods. He barely knew this man, and yet here they were together in a strange motel, his sons just miles down the road. Something about this just felt right and John couldn't explain exactly what that was, not even at gunpoint. Just a few days ago, Bobby Singer had been telling him that he was too serious. He'd slipped a condom and KY in John's duffle and told John to get laid. This probably wasn't what Bobby had meant.
"So, where are you from, John Constantine?" John asked as he took another gulp of his drink.
"Here and there, but if you mean," Constantine paused to take a drag from his smoke and flick ashes in the tray, "where was I born, that would be Liverpool." He leaned back in his chair after offering the information and smoothed his tie with his free hand.
"You mean that place where the Beatles are from?" John said, finishing his drink and poring more in both cups. He gulped it down in one shot and set the cup down with a flourish. The bottle was already half empty. If he was going to do this, John would need plenty of liquid courage.
Constantine nodded and picked his cup up to place it to his lips, and then tilted his head back. John couldn't help but watch as the man bared his pale slim throat as though in invitation. When Constantine finished his drink, he smiled at John.
"So, was it a proposal?" he said with a hint of mischief in his blue eyes. He winked and his expression turned from a hint to brazen flirtation.
John leaned back, knocking his head against the wall as he chuckled. He thumbed the wedding band on his left hand and noted Constantine's gaze.
"You're married?" Constantine said, narrowing his eyes.
"Not anymore." John stood and rushed at the man, overcome with frustration. He yanked Constantine to his feet and mashed their mouths together. He hadn't been with a woman since Mary. There was no way he could, and especially not tonight. It would have been like cheating in his mind, but this he could do. This he could have just for one moment in a place no one else knew about. In a place no one ever need know about and with a man.
Constantine didn't resist. He kissed back hard and reached up to yank on John's hair, forcing John to tilt his head. When he opened his mouth, Constantine plunged his wet tongue inside. He pushed John to the bed, stripping his flannel shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. They fell on the bed together, struggling with clothing, and John pulled the tie from Constantine's neck. He threw it aside and moved on to the shirt, pulling at the buttons until they slid free of their holes. John had Constantine pinned beneath him. His face was rough with two-day beard, and he rubbed the scratchy stubble growth across Constantine's bare chest. There were no breasts, just pale smooth skin as far as the eye could see.
Constantine ran his fingers through John's hair and pulled his head back to lean forward and kiss him hard on the mouth again. He bit down on John's bottom lip.
"You like it dirty, do you?" John growled with a husky voice. He bit back and relaxed against the length of Constantine's body. He could feel the other man's hardness pressed against his thigh. John reached down and squeezed the thick length through Constantine's pants and rubbed him a few times. Constantine pressed against the bed, arching his back with a moan deep in his throat.
The tingle of the alcohol coursed through John, and he relished the feeling of freedom. He shoved one knee up and spread Constantine's legs apart and pinned his arms above his head as he buried his face against Constantine's throat. John bit down hard like a vampire, the thought and action making his cock jump in his pants. He rubbed up against Constantine's pliant body, kissing down his throat to his chest. He made his way down to lick around the man's bellybutton, while undoing Constantine's pants. John pulled the pants and briefs down until the long thick cock bobbed out. Without thinking about what he was about to do, John sucked the head into his mouth. He gripped the base, petting the coarse, blond pubic hair. He'd never touched another man like this. It was invigorating. John closed his eyes and sucked the length in deeper until he gagged. He pulled back, and then stroked the length with his hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Constantine was not watching him. He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed and his legs spread as far as the clothing would allow.
John removed the pants and briefs and gripped Constantine's knees to spread his legs apart. He wrapped his lips around the cock again and sucked gently at first, moving up and down the length, taking his cues from Constantine's reactions. When he accidentally scraped teeth on the tender skin, Constantine complained with a yelp. John licked the soft underside, tongued the thick vein, and popped the length back in his mouth. He sucked and licked his way up until he reached the sensitized head. John sucked him in, tasting precome. Constantine jerked his hips, thrusting himself in deeper. He pulsed in John's hand, and come shot on his tongue. John pulled back, startled at the suddenness, but he continued to stroke Constantine through his orgasm.
They kissed once on the lips and undressed slowly. John stood and brought the half empty bottle and two cups along with the cigarette pack and lighter over to the bedside, then filling each plastic cup. While Constantine downed his drink in one gulp and smacked his lips with a sigh, a sated smile on his face. John went to his duffle and found the condom and KY. Constantine rolled onto his front and tucked an arm under his head, resting his golden crown of hair against his arm. John noticed that his blond hair was longer this time than the first time they'd met. With his other hand, Constantine pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it, taking a long drag.
Turning out all but the bathroom light, John returned to the bed and lay down on his side, propping himself up on his left arm, Constantine's pale, slender back within reach. John stroked the smooth skin lazily with the back of one hand as he sipped from his plastic cup. He was still semi-hard and itching to satisfy his sexual appetite. His cock brushed against the curve of Constantine's pale ass cheek, leaving a wet dab of pre-come in its wake. Setting his cup aside, John placed a wet kiss on Constantine's shoulder. He cupped one cheek in his hand and squeezed. For a man, Constantine had an amazingly round plump ass. John pressed a finger against the tattoo on the right cheek.
"What's this supposed to be?" he asked as he stroked the mark with his thumb.
"A joke," Constantine whispered. He put out the cigarette and stretched, tightening the muscles of his ass and legs. John took the moment to caress them, roughly. He liked the feel of the smooth curves that were nothing like those of a woman. Touching the curve that led to Constantine's crack sent a thrill through John that made his balls tighten and his cock jump.
"It looks more like a tree," John replied. He placed a few more kisses across Constantine's back and shoulders, adding a few experimental licks. His warm skin tasted of sweat with a hint of smoke, and John found if he continued to lick he could eliminate any taste. He lifted his head and licked his lips a few times. He slid his finger along Constantine's ass crack until he could feel the soft down of pubic hairs. John's breath grew heavy and he suddenly felt self-conscious, which was ridiculous because he was in a bed naked with a guy whose dick he'd just sucked.
"Either fuck me or stop the bloody tease," Constantine suddenly said as he spread his legs wider, allowing for easier access.
"Right," John said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He pressed his body against the length of Constantine's body and kissed his back as he reached behind himself to pick up the condom and KY he'd placed there earlier. John grew harder with anticipation. He tore open the lube and squeezed some out onto two fingers, tossing the foil behind him. The liquid was cool and thick and when he placed his fingers on Constantine's ass crack, Constantine hissed a sharp intake of breath. There was no other way to do this and John felt a surge of bravado. He pressed his lubed finger against the hole. John was surprised at the heat he felt there and when he pushed, he was amazed at how smooth the skin was. He bit back the words he wanted to speak. Words felt wrong here. What would he say anyways? He pushed harder, and his finger slid in deeper past a tight ring of muscles. He was so tight and, John was sure he'd never get his dick inside.
"It's about time," Constantine said, bucking his ass up in the air. John pushed his finger in a few more times and then pulled out. He was so hard, he thought he'd explode. He tore the condom open and slipped it on his cock, moving over Constantine to a better position so he could press the head of his cock to that lubed hole. Anxious, John pushed in. It was so tight and so warm and John wanted to pusher harder, but he forced himself to take it easy, because he'd never done this before and he had no idea what he was doing. He didn't want to hurt Constantine. This was supposed to be good for the both of them. Constantine was bucking up more now, pushing his ass at John and John was sliding in deeper and it was tighter than he'd ever dreamed and nothing like what he'd imagined. He was going to come right that second, even before he had a chance to really fuck Constantine, but John somehow managed to hold off. He braced himself with his arms and slowly slid in and out of Constantine, afraid he'd slide right out if he wasn't careful. He wasn't going to let that happen. This felt too fucking good and when Constantine clenched around John's cock, John resisted the urge to cry out. He managed to get a rhythm going and each time his cock was buried to the root inside Constantine's tight heat, John moaned. He buried his face in the crook of Constantine's shoulder and moved his hips, clenching his ass with each push. Every muscle was straining and it was supposed to be relaxing him, but John was tense and his arm muscles were bulging with the strain of holding himself above Constantine as he fucked him against the mattress. And it felt so good, and John lost himself in the moment, relishing every thrust and every moan.
When John came, he bit his lip and muttered expletives under his breath. He opened his eyes wide and stared at the blond head beneath him, hardly believing what he'd just done. He rode his orgasm out, panting, completely spent and out of breath. His body was soaked in sweat, and his mouth felt dry and he licked his lips several times.
When he could think straight again, John shifting to his side, and removed the filled condom, tossing it in the trash basket by the bed. Constantine rolled over onto his back and lit another cigarette. Suddenly, John wanted to be clean, he needed a towel. The light from the bathroom shone brightly enough for him to see the deep blue of Constantine's eyes as he stared back at John. There must have been something in his expression of what he was feeling because Constantine reached up and caressed John's cheek.
"It's all good, mate," Constantine said, offering John the cigarette. John took a drag as Constantine held the filter end to his lips.
They lay in silence, the only sound in the room the sound of the cigarette end burning with each drag. It seemed to grow louder as the seconds passed. John should have gotten up. His skin had cooled, and he felt damp and uncomfortable. When he finally did get up, Constantine remained in the bed, chain-smoking.
When John returned to the bed with a damp towel, Constantine had butted out his latest smoke and pulled the white bed sheet up to cover his nude body. John slid in under the covers and set the towel down on the nightstand. When he turned to face Constantine, the man was watching him, his gaze on John's left hand as John thumbed the band.
"She was killed ten years ago today," John said. He wasn't telling Constantine because he thought he could trust the man, but he felt he at least owed him an explanation.
PART 4