dizzy with the burn, Alice/SPN/Leverage/Castle (vamp!hatter verse), NC-17
Fandom: SyFy's Alice/Leverage/SPN/Castle
Title: dizzy with the burn
Charcater/Pairings: Eliot/Dean, Sam/Kate/Hatter (though Hatter's involvement is more implied than implicit)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2118
Summary: Dean and Eliot meet up with Sam and his new friends for a few drinks...and more...though when it's over Dean isn't entirely certain what happened.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um....somewhere along the way, I picked up a vampire!Hatter in my Brain. Then orphan_project "helped" and gave him a Sam. And volunteered Eliot to keep Dean company. And then havenward left me Castle prompts ( which can be found here) that somehow became prompts in this verse and resulted in Sam turning Kate Beckett. This follows It'll Be Fun.
“You sure you want me with you?” Eliot asked as they approached the bar.
Dean stopped, pulling a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I’m not sure I want to be in there myself.” He’d wavered back and forth between relief and anger all day. A year. A whole year Sam had been gone. Off finding himself while Dean tore up all of California looking for him. And he’d been here, in San Francisco the whole time.
And now he was shacked up with some girl and it was like Stanford all over again. Only now he didn’t have an excuse to pull Sam back to him. There was no missing father. There was only the hunt.
And Sam had wanted out of the hunt for as long as Dean could remember.
And really, who was Dean to drag him back into something he clearly hated?
He exhaled and reached for the door handle. He could hear Sam’s laughter long before he was even fully inside. Dean’s eyes picked him out, in the corner, leaning against the wall.
The brunette he was clearly with was draped over him, her long legs clad in red leather, her back nearly bare but for the ties of her halter top that barely covered enough for her to be legal in public.
She felt him looking and turned, biting her lip as her eyes scrapped down him, then up to Eliot beside him. She turned so that her back was against Sam, rubbing over him like a stripper giving him a lap dance. “Look, Baby, we got company.”
Dean looked up at Sam, and for the briefest second there was something strange and dark about him, a coldness…but then Sam was grinning and his big hand slipped around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he moved them closer.
“You came!” He sounded eager and excited, like a kid at show and tell. “Little Alice this is my brother Dean.”
She licked her lips as she looked him over again. “I’m Kate.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “I thought he just called you Alice.”
They both laughed like it was some private joke. When she realized Dean was still looking at her she shrugged and rolled her eyes. “I feel down a rabbit hole…I climbed Sam here to get back out.”
Sam chuckled and nuzzled her neck, making her flush and lean back into him.
“If I’m keeping you from…” Dean looked at Eliot who shrugged at him. “I could…go.”
Sam’s face lifted, his smile wide. “Don’t be silly.” He pushed Kate aside. “Be a good girl and get us some drinks.”
Kate kissed him, her hand delving into his pocket, clearly caressing his clearly hard dick before emerging with a wad of money. Her hand caressed over Dean’s shoulder as she left and Dean had to clear his throat. “So…”
Sam chuckled and pointed at a table. “Yeah, she’s something, right?”
Eliot cleared his throat and Dean nodded. “Yeah, something. I, ah…this is a friend of mine-“
“You’re Eliot, right?” Sam asked, reaching a hand out.
“Yeah.”
“Wait. You know him?”
“Know of him.” Sam corrected as they sat. “Eliot’s…got a reputation.”
“You do?” Dean asked, looking at him.
Eliot grinned, his hand sliding over Dean’s back, making Dean flush with very inappropriate thoughts about that hand on his skin the night before.
“Oh.” Sam said suddenly, sitting back and hitting the table. “Really?”
Dean looked up at him, confused. “What?”
“You. And your ‘friend’ Eliot.” Sam said, as if the words explained whatever he was thinking. His hands gestured at them, then like he was pushing them together. “This was the…this morning?”
“What?” Dean was all set to deny it, but Kate chose that moment to return, setting down a tray with four beers and four generous shots of something vaguely darker than whiskey. “What is that?”
Sam lifted one of the shots and shoved it at Dean. “You have to try it. It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
Kate straddled over Sam’s lap, grinding down on him as Dean sniffed at the glass. It smelled like whiskey or maybe bourbon, despite the dark color. He sipped at it, rolling a vaguely sweet taste around in his mouth before swallowing. It burned like whiskey, maybe more so, all the way into his stomach.
“Wow.”
Kate was pouring a shot into Sam’s mouth and Eliot had already tossed his back and was chasing it with a beer. Dean tipped his head back, swallowing the rest of it. The warmth bubbled up inside him, like some chemical reaction, spreading through his stomach and outward until his face was flushed and his body heated and Eliot's hand on his thigh under the table was like fire.
"See?" Sam asked, turning from kissing Kate to look at Dean.
"That's…wow." He shook his head, wondering if there was something more than alcohol in the glass. Everything seemed strange.
"Well, 'ello gents." A strange man in a beat up fedora was pouring more into the empty glasses on the table, grinning at Dean. "Oh, and Kate of course. Lovely little Alice."
The man in the hat pulled Kate to him, kissing her soundly. Dean looked at Sam, who only grinned and lifted his glass. "Go on, Dean. Don't let me drink alone."
"Is it a tea party, then?" The man with the hat grabbed a chair, dumping the woman who had been sitting in it onto the floor before twirling it and straddling it beside Dean. "You must be the brother." He snapped his fingers as if trying to come up with his name. "Dean."
Dean paused with the glass half way to his lips. "And you are?"
The man's grin was as big as Sam's. Maybe bigger. "I'm Hatter, I am. I'm the one that found poor Sam here. Right here in fact. More to the point, there." He pointed at the bar. "Crying in his beer. So I made him some tea."
Sam was laughing and from where Dean was sitting, he could see Kate had her hand in his pants. The whole thing felt surreal, like he'd fallen into a dream and couldn't wake up.
"Tea?" Dean asked.
Hatter's hand was pushing his hand toward his mouth. "Drink up and I'll pour you another."
Dean swallowed the dark alcohol, but when Hatter moved to pour more, Eliot's hand stopped him. "No need to push so hard, Hatter. I've got it." The glass left his hand and was replaced with a beer.
Hatter looked for a second like he might take Eliot's head off. Sam lifted his beer and thrust it forward. "Cheers."
Dean clinking his bottle against Sam's and took a swig. The beer was soothing, cooling against the heat of the whiskey…or whatever it was. He had half of it gone before he came up for air.
"I don't understand." Dean said, turning to Hatter. "Wait." He looked at Eliot, squinting at him. "You know him?" His face was hot and he was far more drunk than two shots of whiskey should make him.
Eliot leaned in close, his breath hot on Dean's skin. "We've met. Don't worry, I won't let him get too close." Eliot's lips brushed his and Dean stiffened, his eyes darting to Sam, but Sam was too busy with Kate to notice.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "I need some air." He stood, shoving his chair back, wobbling a little as the world tilted. Eliot steadied him, a hand on Dean’s hip as he stood.
The air outside was cool and damp and Dean’s head was spinning as Eliot pressed him into the wall, kissing him deep and hard. “Just…give me…” Dean shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to make anything make sense.
“You’re trashed.” Eliot murmured in his ear, whisker burn adding to the heat on Dean’s face.
“No…just…I think…” Someone had to have spiked the whiskey. It was the only explanation. Eliot had his zipper down while he sucked a bruise into the base of Dean’s neck. “Not…here….”
Eliot only growled and grabbed Dean’s dick, which was betraying his intention by responding to Eliot’s touch. Eliot did push them down the wall and just into the alley before he shoved at Dean’s jeans. His mouth was back over the bruise, sucking and nipping at the skin.
Something was sending warning bells off, but Dean’s head fell back, cracking against the wall as Eliot’s hand pulled up his cock, hard and dry, but fuck he was half way over the edge. Eliot’s lips were warm and wet on his ear. “Wanna fuck you, boy.”
Dean grunted and came in Eliot’s hand, and Eliot must have taken that as permission because Dean found himself turned, pressed hard into the dirty wall, his jeans down, his hips yanked back and Eliot was fucking him all before he could fully understand it was happening.
His eyes were closed and he got an arm between his face and the wall in an effort to keep from hitting the brick with his cheek. Dean’s ass burned and his throat was dry…he wanted more of that whiskey…sweat and hot and fuck, he was hard again.
Eliot’s mouth was on his neck again, hot, wet…and when his teeth closed over the bruise, Dean yelled.
“I want to taste.”
Dean was half sure that was Sam. But that couldn’t be right.
Eliot moved, pulled back, but his hand was on Dean’s head, holding him and there was a cock moving into him again, lips closing over the bruise and fuck…fuck…the skin was broken and he was bleeding and his cock was spewing come onto the wall…the fucking seemed to go on forever…over and over…and then there was a glass…Eliot’s voice all rough and grumble telling him to drink…and then darkness.
The room was cold…or maybe his skin was just hot. Dean groaned as he sat up, instantly aware that he isn’t alone and that he was wickedly hungover. It only took a moment to realize he was going to be sick and he lurched up and into the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet as he vomited.
He heard the tap beside him turn on as he was finishing and looked up to find Eliot looking at him with a scowl, holding out a glass of water. Dean rinsed his mouth and spit it out, flushing as he stood. He drained the rest of the water.
“You okay?” Eliot asked gruffly.
“Hung.” Dean grumbled, pushing past him to crawl back into bed.
Eliot chuckled, fucker. “Not surprised. You got fucked up last night.”
Not just fucked up, Dean could tell. He’d been fucked too. He frowned, some dream of Sam and an alley and sex…he looked up as he realized Eliot was still talking.
“…in the alley by the bar.”
“What?” Dean’s hand floated to his head, which was pounding in two different ways.
“Yeah, you smacked it pretty good.” The bed dipped and Eliot’s hand pull Dean’s away from the egg on the back of his head. “You bounced off the wall, fell.” His hand slipped to a spot at the base of Dean’s neck. “Cut yourself.”
Dean frowned until the frown hurt too much. He didn’t remember much past that odd guy in the hat joining them, bringing the bottle. He remembered that. Best whiskey he’d ever had. Except he remembered them calling it tea.
“You’re thinking too much.” Eliot pushed him down. “It’s too early and we were out too late…and I’m too tired to go for round number five…so…”
“Five?”
Eliot’s grin was devious. “Twice in the alley, once on the walk home, once in the shower after I got you undressed…and once again a few hours ago.”
“Sam…” Dean had a vague thought, an image…or maybe the sound of Sam’s voice….in the alley…biting…fucking…He shook his head.
Eliot leaned in and kissed him, hard and possessive. “Don’t worry about Sam…he saw us when he came out for his own quicky in the alley with Kate and Hatter…but he didn’t care.”
“Hatter…” There was something…just there…just beyond his ability to reason through the hangover fog in his head.
“Is a crazy freak…don’t worry about him either.” Eliot laid down beside him, pulling Dean in close. “Sleep, Dean. Let me keep watch a while.”
Some part of him told him not to, but his eyes closed and the pounding in his head was numbing him from the outside world. He was warm and comfortable and Eliot’s voice was whispering in his ear…he couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t seem to matter…he could figure it out later…
Title: dizzy with the burn
Charcater/Pairings: Eliot/Dean, Sam/Kate/Hatter (though Hatter's involvement is more implied than implicit)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2118
Summary: Dean and Eliot meet up with Sam and his new friends for a few drinks...and more...though when it's over Dean isn't entirely certain what happened.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um....somewhere along the way, I picked up a vampire!Hatter in my Brain. Then orphan_project "helped" and gave him a Sam. And volunteered Eliot to keep Dean company. And then havenward left me Castle prompts ( which can be found here) that somehow became prompts in this verse and resulted in Sam turning Kate Beckett. This follows It'll Be Fun.
“You sure you want me with you?” Eliot asked as they approached the bar.
Dean stopped, pulling a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I’m not sure I want to be in there myself.” He’d wavered back and forth between relief and anger all day. A year. A whole year Sam had been gone. Off finding himself while Dean tore up all of California looking for him. And he’d been here, in San Francisco the whole time.
And now he was shacked up with some girl and it was like Stanford all over again. Only now he didn’t have an excuse to pull Sam back to him. There was no missing father. There was only the hunt.
And Sam had wanted out of the hunt for as long as Dean could remember.
And really, who was Dean to drag him back into something he clearly hated?
He exhaled and reached for the door handle. He could hear Sam’s laughter long before he was even fully inside. Dean’s eyes picked him out, in the corner, leaning against the wall.
The brunette he was clearly with was draped over him, her long legs clad in red leather, her back nearly bare but for the ties of her halter top that barely covered enough for her to be legal in public.
She felt him looking and turned, biting her lip as her eyes scrapped down him, then up to Eliot beside him. She turned so that her back was against Sam, rubbing over him like a stripper giving him a lap dance. “Look, Baby, we got company.”
Dean looked up at Sam, and for the briefest second there was something strange and dark about him, a coldness…but then Sam was grinning and his big hand slipped around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he moved them closer.
“You came!” He sounded eager and excited, like a kid at show and tell. “Little Alice this is my brother Dean.”
She licked her lips as she looked him over again. “I’m Kate.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “I thought he just called you Alice.”
They both laughed like it was some private joke. When she realized Dean was still looking at her she shrugged and rolled her eyes. “I feel down a rabbit hole…I climbed Sam here to get back out.”
Sam chuckled and nuzzled her neck, making her flush and lean back into him.
“If I’m keeping you from…” Dean looked at Eliot who shrugged at him. “I could…go.”
Sam’s face lifted, his smile wide. “Don’t be silly.” He pushed Kate aside. “Be a good girl and get us some drinks.”
Kate kissed him, her hand delving into his pocket, clearly caressing his clearly hard dick before emerging with a wad of money. Her hand caressed over Dean’s shoulder as she left and Dean had to clear his throat. “So…”
Sam chuckled and pointed at a table. “Yeah, she’s something, right?”
Eliot cleared his throat and Dean nodded. “Yeah, something. I, ah…this is a friend of mine-“
“You’re Eliot, right?” Sam asked, reaching a hand out.
“Yeah.”
“Wait. You know him?”
“Know of him.” Sam corrected as they sat. “Eliot’s…got a reputation.”
“You do?” Dean asked, looking at him.
Eliot grinned, his hand sliding over Dean’s back, making Dean flush with very inappropriate thoughts about that hand on his skin the night before.
“Oh.” Sam said suddenly, sitting back and hitting the table. “Really?”
Dean looked up at him, confused. “What?”
“You. And your ‘friend’ Eliot.” Sam said, as if the words explained whatever he was thinking. His hands gestured at them, then like he was pushing them together. “This was the…this morning?”
“What?” Dean was all set to deny it, but Kate chose that moment to return, setting down a tray with four beers and four generous shots of something vaguely darker than whiskey. “What is that?”
Sam lifted one of the shots and shoved it at Dean. “You have to try it. It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
Kate straddled over Sam’s lap, grinding down on him as Dean sniffed at the glass. It smelled like whiskey or maybe bourbon, despite the dark color. He sipped at it, rolling a vaguely sweet taste around in his mouth before swallowing. It burned like whiskey, maybe more so, all the way into his stomach.
“Wow.”
Kate was pouring a shot into Sam’s mouth and Eliot had already tossed his back and was chasing it with a beer. Dean tipped his head back, swallowing the rest of it. The warmth bubbled up inside him, like some chemical reaction, spreading through his stomach and outward until his face was flushed and his body heated and Eliot's hand on his thigh under the table was like fire.
"See?" Sam asked, turning from kissing Kate to look at Dean.
"That's…wow." He shook his head, wondering if there was something more than alcohol in the glass. Everything seemed strange.
"Well, 'ello gents." A strange man in a beat up fedora was pouring more into the empty glasses on the table, grinning at Dean. "Oh, and Kate of course. Lovely little Alice."
The man in the hat pulled Kate to him, kissing her soundly. Dean looked at Sam, who only grinned and lifted his glass. "Go on, Dean. Don't let me drink alone."
"Is it a tea party, then?" The man with the hat grabbed a chair, dumping the woman who had been sitting in it onto the floor before twirling it and straddling it beside Dean. "You must be the brother." He snapped his fingers as if trying to come up with his name. "Dean."
Dean paused with the glass half way to his lips. "And you are?"
The man's grin was as big as Sam's. Maybe bigger. "I'm Hatter, I am. I'm the one that found poor Sam here. Right here in fact. More to the point, there." He pointed at the bar. "Crying in his beer. So I made him some tea."
Sam was laughing and from where Dean was sitting, he could see Kate had her hand in his pants. The whole thing felt surreal, like he'd fallen into a dream and couldn't wake up.
"Tea?" Dean asked.
Hatter's hand was pushing his hand toward his mouth. "Drink up and I'll pour you another."
Dean swallowed the dark alcohol, but when Hatter moved to pour more, Eliot's hand stopped him. "No need to push so hard, Hatter. I've got it." The glass left his hand and was replaced with a beer.
Hatter looked for a second like he might take Eliot's head off. Sam lifted his beer and thrust it forward. "Cheers."
Dean clinking his bottle against Sam's and took a swig. The beer was soothing, cooling against the heat of the whiskey…or whatever it was. He had half of it gone before he came up for air.
"I don't understand." Dean said, turning to Hatter. "Wait." He looked at Eliot, squinting at him. "You know him?" His face was hot and he was far more drunk than two shots of whiskey should make him.
Eliot leaned in close, his breath hot on Dean's skin. "We've met. Don't worry, I won't let him get too close." Eliot's lips brushed his and Dean stiffened, his eyes darting to Sam, but Sam was too busy with Kate to notice.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "I need some air." He stood, shoving his chair back, wobbling a little as the world tilted. Eliot steadied him, a hand on Dean’s hip as he stood.
The air outside was cool and damp and Dean’s head was spinning as Eliot pressed him into the wall, kissing him deep and hard. “Just…give me…” Dean shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to make anything make sense.
“You’re trashed.” Eliot murmured in his ear, whisker burn adding to the heat on Dean’s face.
“No…just…I think…” Someone had to have spiked the whiskey. It was the only explanation. Eliot had his zipper down while he sucked a bruise into the base of Dean’s neck. “Not…here….”
Eliot only growled and grabbed Dean’s dick, which was betraying his intention by responding to Eliot’s touch. Eliot did push them down the wall and just into the alley before he shoved at Dean’s jeans. His mouth was back over the bruise, sucking and nipping at the skin.
Something was sending warning bells off, but Dean’s head fell back, cracking against the wall as Eliot’s hand pulled up his cock, hard and dry, but fuck he was half way over the edge. Eliot’s lips were warm and wet on his ear. “Wanna fuck you, boy.”
Dean grunted and came in Eliot’s hand, and Eliot must have taken that as permission because Dean found himself turned, pressed hard into the dirty wall, his jeans down, his hips yanked back and Eliot was fucking him all before he could fully understand it was happening.
His eyes were closed and he got an arm between his face and the wall in an effort to keep from hitting the brick with his cheek. Dean’s ass burned and his throat was dry…he wanted more of that whiskey…sweat and hot and fuck, he was hard again.
Eliot’s mouth was on his neck again, hot, wet…and when his teeth closed over the bruise, Dean yelled.
“I want to taste.”
Dean was half sure that was Sam. But that couldn’t be right.
Eliot moved, pulled back, but his hand was on Dean’s head, holding him and there was a cock moving into him again, lips closing over the bruise and fuck…fuck…the skin was broken and he was bleeding and his cock was spewing come onto the wall…the fucking seemed to go on forever…over and over…and then there was a glass…Eliot’s voice all rough and grumble telling him to drink…and then darkness.
The room was cold…or maybe his skin was just hot. Dean groaned as he sat up, instantly aware that he isn’t alone and that he was wickedly hungover. It only took a moment to realize he was going to be sick and he lurched up and into the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet as he vomited.
He heard the tap beside him turn on as he was finishing and looked up to find Eliot looking at him with a scowl, holding out a glass of water. Dean rinsed his mouth and spit it out, flushing as he stood. He drained the rest of the water.
“You okay?” Eliot asked gruffly.
“Hung.” Dean grumbled, pushing past him to crawl back into bed.
Eliot chuckled, fucker. “Not surprised. You got fucked up last night.”
Not just fucked up, Dean could tell. He’d been fucked too. He frowned, some dream of Sam and an alley and sex…he looked up as he realized Eliot was still talking.
“…in the alley by the bar.”
“What?” Dean’s hand floated to his head, which was pounding in two different ways.
“Yeah, you smacked it pretty good.” The bed dipped and Eliot’s hand pull Dean’s away from the egg on the back of his head. “You bounced off the wall, fell.” His hand slipped to a spot at the base of Dean’s neck. “Cut yourself.”
Dean frowned until the frown hurt too much. He didn’t remember much past that odd guy in the hat joining them, bringing the bottle. He remembered that. Best whiskey he’d ever had. Except he remembered them calling it tea.
“You’re thinking too much.” Eliot pushed him down. “It’s too early and we were out too late…and I’m too tired to go for round number five…so…”
“Five?”
Eliot’s grin was devious. “Twice in the alley, once on the walk home, once in the shower after I got you undressed…and once again a few hours ago.”
“Sam…” Dean had a vague thought, an image…or maybe the sound of Sam’s voice….in the alley…biting…fucking…He shook his head.
Eliot leaned in and kissed him, hard and possessive. “Don’t worry about Sam…he saw us when he came out for his own quicky in the alley with Kate and Hatter…but he didn’t care.”
“Hatter…” There was something…just there…just beyond his ability to reason through the hangover fog in his head.
“Is a crazy freak…don’t worry about him either.” Eliot laid down beside him, pulling Dean in close. “Sleep, Dean. Let me keep watch a while.”
Some part of him told him not to, but his eyes closed and the pounding in his head was numbing him from the outside world. He was warm and comfortable and Eliot’s voice was whispering in his ear…he couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t seem to matter…he could figure it out later…