Playing with Blood (part two)
AN: thanks for reading ^^ I know these are really short snippets but I kind of like the quick pace of it because of that. this fic is on the way to completion so i should be updating soon! <3
here is part one
part two
It was almost morning when Dean stumbled back into the room.
Sam couldn’t exactly say that he expected it. Usually when they were affected first hand by some supernatural mojo they didn’t sleep till they’d burned the sucker, but as much as Sam didn’t expect Dean to go out and get trashed immediately after getting toyed with, it still wasn’t a surprise. After all, whether he’d been in his right mind or not, Dean had still just fucked his little brother. His little Sammy.
It was no secret to anyone how Dean felt about Sam. He loved him more than anything, wanted to protect him. He took the role of big brother a little too seriously and before, when Sam had been younger it had often mingled flawlessly with the role of father and mother as well, both things that Sam’d had mostly absent from his life.
Before, Dean had always put Sam first. But not tonight. Tonight he’d put his dick first. And judging by the harsh gasps and jerking thrusts, the way his fingers clasped Sam’s skin, he’d loved it.
Sam heard the key scratching at the lock for a good minute before Dean stumbled through the door. He walked in without turning on the lights, his steps heavy and uneven and stood by Sam’s bed looking down at him.
Sam didn’t move. Pretended to still be asleep and apparently Dean bought it because a moment later he dropped a hand onto his shoulder and shook him roughly.
“How the hell can you sleep now?” he demanded gruffly, a slight slur in his voice.
Sam sighed. He couldn’t. Not at all. But what was he supposed to say, that he’d been laying here for hours now staring into the darkness wondering what the hell was wrong with them?
Why the spirit clearly hadn’t been destroyed earlier in the night when they’d torched her bones. Why it had affected Sam and Dean of all people. Why he would rather just lay there and wonder all these things than get up and figure out what else was left of the bitch and burn it away.
“I’m awake,” he said instead.
Dean let go of his shoulder promptly and dropped into his own bed with a flop. He flicked on the light and when Sam turned and looked at him Dean was staring at the floor.
He seemed oblivious to the rumpled sheets behind him. Sam found himself staring at them.
“You okay?” Dean finally asked.
Sam wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what this would mean-that was the worst part. Sure he’d walked in on Dean having sex before and afterwards they’d gone on like nothing had changed, but this time…
He felt numb.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Dean nodded and Sam didn’t need to ask how Dean was doing. He could see it on his face.
“What did we miss?” Dean asked. “A lock of hair, a freakin hang nail?”
It was his usual annoyed tirade, but the anger wasn’t there. He sounded exhausted.
Sam shook his head and pushed himself out of bed. Laying here wasn’t going to fix anything. He knew that. The damn ghost thought that messing with the Winchester boys was fun? Then she had another thing coming. The familiar spark of anger shot through Sam’s veins. He knew the feeling well. He always felt it when he wanted revenge.
If there was one thing that they knew how to do it was gank evil, and a ghost that made people inexplicably desire people that they shouldn’t was definitely on the list. Especially after tonight.
“Let’s find out,” Sam said.
A spark of Dean’s usual fire shot into his eyes and Sam thought maybe they could go on like normal after all.
After that it was alarmingly easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. He pulled up the files on his computers and the ones they’d had printed from the police station and the morgue and went through them one by one while Dean paced the room in thought. It was like any other case again.
There was a spirit messing with peoples’ lives. They would find it and get rid of it. Simple.
In fact that was what Sam usually loved about jobs like these. It was easy. All spirits, good and bad had to cross over. He and Dean made that happen.
He looked up from his computer screen. Dean was watching him, a look in his eyes that Sam didn’t really recognize but regardless it made him flush and look away.
here is part one
part two
It was almost morning when Dean stumbled back into the room.
Sam couldn’t exactly say that he expected it. Usually when they were affected first hand by some supernatural mojo they didn’t sleep till they’d burned the sucker, but as much as Sam didn’t expect Dean to go out and get trashed immediately after getting toyed with, it still wasn’t a surprise. After all, whether he’d been in his right mind or not, Dean had still just fucked his little brother. His little Sammy.
It was no secret to anyone how Dean felt about Sam. He loved him more than anything, wanted to protect him. He took the role of big brother a little too seriously and before, when Sam had been younger it had often mingled flawlessly with the role of father and mother as well, both things that Sam’d had mostly absent from his life.
Before, Dean had always put Sam first. But not tonight. Tonight he’d put his dick first. And judging by the harsh gasps and jerking thrusts, the way his fingers clasped Sam’s skin, he’d loved it.
Sam heard the key scratching at the lock for a good minute before Dean stumbled through the door. He walked in without turning on the lights, his steps heavy and uneven and stood by Sam’s bed looking down at him.
Sam didn’t move. Pretended to still be asleep and apparently Dean bought it because a moment later he dropped a hand onto his shoulder and shook him roughly.
“How the hell can you sleep now?” he demanded gruffly, a slight slur in his voice.
Sam sighed. He couldn’t. Not at all. But what was he supposed to say, that he’d been laying here for hours now staring into the darkness wondering what the hell was wrong with them?
Why the spirit clearly hadn’t been destroyed earlier in the night when they’d torched her bones. Why it had affected Sam and Dean of all people. Why he would rather just lay there and wonder all these things than get up and figure out what else was left of the bitch and burn it away.
“I’m awake,” he said instead.
Dean let go of his shoulder promptly and dropped into his own bed with a flop. He flicked on the light and when Sam turned and looked at him Dean was staring at the floor.
He seemed oblivious to the rumpled sheets behind him. Sam found himself staring at them.
“You okay?” Dean finally asked.
Sam wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what this would mean-that was the worst part. Sure he’d walked in on Dean having sex before and afterwards they’d gone on like nothing had changed, but this time…
He felt numb.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Dean nodded and Sam didn’t need to ask how Dean was doing. He could see it on his face.
“What did we miss?” Dean asked. “A lock of hair, a freakin hang nail?”
It was his usual annoyed tirade, but the anger wasn’t there. He sounded exhausted.
Sam shook his head and pushed himself out of bed. Laying here wasn’t going to fix anything. He knew that. The damn ghost thought that messing with the Winchester boys was fun? Then she had another thing coming. The familiar spark of anger shot through Sam’s veins. He knew the feeling well. He always felt it when he wanted revenge.
If there was one thing that they knew how to do it was gank evil, and a ghost that made people inexplicably desire people that they shouldn’t was definitely on the list. Especially after tonight.
“Let’s find out,” Sam said.
A spark of Dean’s usual fire shot into his eyes and Sam thought maybe they could go on like normal after all.
After that it was alarmingly easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. He pulled up the files on his computers and the ones they’d had printed from the police station and the morgue and went through them one by one while Dean paced the room in thought. It was like any other case again.
There was a spirit messing with peoples’ lives. They would find it and get rid of it. Simple.
In fact that was what Sam usually loved about jobs like these. It was easy. All spirits, good and bad had to cross over. He and Dean made that happen.
He looked up from his computer screen. Dean was watching him, a look in his eyes that Sam didn’t really recognize but regardless it made him flush and look away.