End of the Line. 5
Author: wirtleberg
Series: End of the Line
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, implied Wincest
Summary: Dean and Benny meet after months apart. Dean grasps the enormity of what happened to him in Purgatory. Epic outdoor fucking, angst and lovin' ensue.
“Dean.”
He spins, hand going automatically to the gun under his suit jacket.
“Brother …”
Recognising the voice he drops the hand. Daylight is nearly gone and the parking lot at the side of the mortuary is already lit by street lamps. “Benny? That you man?”
“Yeah.” A shadow moves silently against a wall and then Benny’s walking towards him. “It’s me. Wasn’t so sure it was you though, almost don’t recognise you in that suit n’ tie.”
Just hearing that voice after so long and he's getting hard. Shit! As Benny gets closer Dean’s aware of a pulsing in his head and for a moment he’s almost dizzy with it. The vampire stops a few yards away, motionless, hands hanging by his sides and Dean starts to move reflexively, close the distance between them, but stops himself with an effort.
“Why you here Benny? Thought we agreed we ain’t doin’ this no more.”
Benny takes a single, silent step towards him and in the mix of dusklight and harsh orange from the street Dean sees how changed his friend is, how drawn and pale, even for a vamp.
“Wow, you look like shit man. What’s been happenin’?”
Benny smiles, a wide, happy smile but Dean's not fooled because he recognises the expression in his eyes; he’s seen it once before.
“I missed you brother.” Benny’s voice is quiet and hoarse. “Found I couldn’t do without you after all.”
“You low on blood again?”
Benny makes a dismissive, impatient gesture. He takes another step and Dean feels that surging pulse again, this time through all his body. What the fuck?
“Stop right there!” He lifts a hand, palm out. “I can feel some weird energy shit goin’ on. What you doin’?”
Benny starts to laugh, actually laugh, a genuine, cheerful sound. “Well, I’ve heard it called a lotta things, but never ‘weird energy shit’!
"What you talkin’ about? What ‘it?”
Benny pauses, humour gone. “So you do feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“The … thing, the uh … energy?”
“Yeah I feel it but got no clue what it is? D’you?”
Benny nods before stepping forward and laying his right palm gently against Dean’s cheek.
The earlier pulse transforms instantly into a bolt of sensation that shakes him from the feet up. Holy friggin’ shit! When he can speak again he mutters, “What the fuck Benny! How d’you do that?”
“I did nuthin’ Dean, It's both of us.”
“What you talkin’ about?” Looking at Benny up close he notices the tremors running through him and the way his fingers twist and tense as he speaks. Everything about this is setting his teeth on edge ‘cos Benny’s got a kinda junkie look to him that says he’s blood-starved.
Benny says, “Is there anywhere we can go? Somewhere quiet jus’ to talk?”
His first reaction is to say, ‘Yes’, but he crushes that down. Some part of him wants to wrap his arms around Benny just to see if that lightening thrill happens again. The part of him that’s John Winchester’s son and heir is saying, ‘starving vamp! kill it’s ass or get out fast.’ He says, “No. There's only the diner down the street and Sam’ll be walking back that way so, no. Better we stay here.”
Benny nods but seems to shrink into himself a little as Dean continues, “Tell me what it is you need and I’ll do my best, OK? I can’t promise anything anymore, that’s why I said what I said on the phone, I didn’t wanna let you down and I knew I would, sooner or later ‘cos Sam ain’t real forgivin’ when it comes to monsters.”
The twisting fingers go still, clench into fists. What the fuck is up with Benny? He barely recognises him and every instinct is screaming a reminder that this creature can hear the rush of blood in his veins and taste him in the air.
Benny's still tremoring, like with cold, but it’s got to be nearly 70 degrees. He steps closer and says, “Was it easy Dean, letting me go like that?”
He could say, ‘It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, it hurt like a motherfucker and it ain’t getting’ easier.’ He says, “No, it wasn’t easy.”
A hand reaches out again, but stops short of touching. Benny’s eyes and voice are soft as silk, “You’ve been hurtin’ too, I see it in your face brother …”
He waves a hand irritably, like he’s brushing something away. “Don’t call me that OK,” and when Benny pulls back, flinching like he’s been hit in the face, he says quickly, “Sorry man, that came out wrong.” He tries for cool, kind, “Look, why don’t you just tell me why you’re here …”
Benny’s voice, always gruff, is so low Dean can barely hear it.
“It’s a vampire thing, what you’re feeling.”
“How come you know what I’m feelin’ when I don’t know myself?”
“'Cos I feel it too. Something happened, in Purgatory, between us, it …it did something. Changed things.”
Dean feels a dreadful premonition, like what next comes outa Benny’s mouth might indeed have the power to change his life. “No!” he says, before he can even think about why. “No, don’t go there. The past is done. We did what we had to do, all of it and I don’t regret a moment. But that’s gone, it ain’t who we are now, up here.”
Benny seems motionless again if you ignore the tremors and water (shit, are those tears?) running unchecked down his face, pink tinged and terrible in the waning light. Dean wants to ignore it, all of it and flee, but something twists hard in his gut as he looks at his friend, twists and threatens to rise and choke him. “Benny, man, I’m lost here, help me out. What’s going on?”
“You ain’t lost Dean. You feel it, but you’re pretendin’ real hard that you don’t.”
“Feel what, man. What is it I'm meant to be feelin'?”
“This.” Benny steps forward and taking Deans face in both his hands, kisses him softly on the mouth.
Christ! Dean hurls himself backwards as a wave of pleasure, pain, joy, warmth, desire, rushes over him like a friggin’ tsunami. “What the fuck …!”
Benny’s smiling, all lit up now, tremors turned to actual shaking but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Benny …?”
“Love.” Benny says. “Love.”
“What? No!”
“It happened in Purgatory, that one time you … when we made l … love. Benny’s voice gets stronger as he continues speaks, like he’s finding courage. “I didn’t get it at first, didn’t understand, thought I was just missin’ my kill-buddy.” He’s still smiling a little, eyes brilliant with something that makes Dean want to look away. “But after our last call, when it really started hurtin’, then … then I got it. I remembered all the old stories from when I was first turned, ‘bout vampires who kinda … bonded. Thought it was just a myth y'know.” He laughs without humour. "It ain't."
“You sayin’ there’s some sorta vamp hoodoo on you? ‘Cos if that’s the problem man, we can fix it, get it lifted somehow.”
Now Benny’s look is pure exasperation. “I’m sayin’ that without knowin' it we locked onto each other." Dean shakes his head.
"Ain't no use you lookin' disbelieven' an' all Dean, 'cos I know it ain’t just me. Thought it was for a while, thought I was alone with it. Then I saw you, saw the hurtin’ an’ I knew right off, it’s both of us brother. Like it or not, we’re in this together.”
He finds he has no words and just stares at Benny, then away into the darkness as if seeking understanding.
“Castiel helped me get right.”
The angel’s name shakes him back into the moment. “Cas was here? When?”
“A day ago, maybe two. I kinda lose track of time.”
“He came to you and not me?” Is the vamp lying, messin’ with his head? “Why would he do that Benny?”
“I reckon he thought helpin’ me was pretty much the same as helpin’ you in this Dean. He saw I was sufferin’, saw you were sufferin’ … he put it together and showed me how things really stand with you an’ me.”
He whispers, “Jesus Benny, you sayin’ you’re in love with me or somethin’?” He can hardly bring himself to look at his former companion, wants a hole to open in the ground and swallow him up
Benny steps closer until there’s nowhere to look but right at him. “Yeah, I am.”
“What am I sposed to say to that?” He tries to twist away without seeming to do so. “You’re a guy, I’m a guy, that ain’t me man. Sorry, but it just ain’t.”
Benny’s close enough now that he can feel the rough fabric of his coat and under it the cool weight and power of his body. Suddenly there's not enough air to breathe and Benny's saying ...
“I was inside of you, my soul, all of me, inside your flesh. You carried me and you knew me, an’ I … I knew you too, brother, all of you." He's smiling again and seems unaware of his own tears.
"So beautiful Dean, so beautiful inside." The smile is blinding. "How could I not love you?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck! He has to move, get away from this whole situation. Right now the familiar insanity that is Sam seems preferable to this, which is way out-of-his-league fucked-up. But something is still churning round and round in him, keeping him rooted to the spot, waiting.
“Dean,” Benny whispers, face still alight, “Can I show you somethin’? Somethin’ unbelievable, kinda like … like magic ...”
He wants to say, ‘No! No more weird shit surprises’, but doesn’t resist when Benny takes his right hand and lays it flat on his chest.
“Feel.” Benny says, like he has difficulty speaking. “D'you f .. feel it brother?”
“What?” he tries to pull his hand away but the grip on him is powerful and determined. “I’m gettin’ noth …” He hesitates, presses harder on the solid flesh under his palm and then he feels it. Something so normal he’d missed it completely. “Christ! Benny,” he whispers, “is that what I think it is?”
Benny nods, carrying Dean’s hand from his heart to his face which is tear-wet and cool. He turns his cheek into the calloused palm, closes his eyes and lays a kiss against the skin. Dean can feel those tremors now, feel them moving into him like a contagion.
“How?”
Eyes still closed Benny says, “When I realised that maybe you … maybe you felt somethin’ too, it jus’ started.” He keeps a hold on Dean's hand like he can’t let go. His voice is quiet again so that, close as they are, Dean strains to hear, “’Til that moment, it ain’t never beat a day in near a hundred an’ fifty years.”
Dean lays his head down and listens. The pounding, steady beat echoes in his ear through the hard, chill muscle of Benny's chest and the sound raises a shocking tenderness in him. Lifting his head he’s considering whether he should say this aloud when Benny is on him, mouth pressed hard to his own, beard soft against his face and, “Ah, ah … fuck”, is all he can manage as a fierce spike of lust and longing pierces him so his knees start to buckle. Benny has him by the arm, pulling him into the deep shadows behind the silent mortuary building, all the time chanting ... “Missed you, missed you … so much. So many things I want to tell you, so much …" Then, "God, yes!”, as Dean opens his pants, takes possession of his cock then drops straight to his knees.
As he sucks on Benny it’s like his throat remembers the shape and feel of him. All those times in Purgatory, all those snatched moments of pleasure that made his existence bearable. He flashes back to the one time he’d made love with Benny, been inside Benny and yes, he remembers how it felt to hold Benny's soul in himself and birth him from the grave. Remembering, he wonders how he’d ever thought he could throw all that away like it was nothing. Tears run down his face, not from pressure but from dawning realisation. He sucks harder, holding Benny’s balls like something precious until his oxygen runs out and he pulls off, weeping openly. Benny’s drawing him up, kissing his mouth, his eyes, his jaw.
He says, “I’m sorry, so sorry …”
“Love,” Benny says, “there’s nuthin’ to be sorry for, nuthin’, ever.”
Then Dean's tearing at his own clothes, ripping the tie off his neck, wanting only to feel this lover in him, on him, in all the ways he’s longed for and dreamed of for months. Benny’s on his knees and Dean bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself howling as the cool, powerful throat wraps his cock and two long, thick fingers push up inside him with nothing more than spit. His legs are so weak he steadies himself on Benny’s head which makes the vampire vibrate low in his chest. The fingers dig deep and he begins riding down on them, wanting them gone and wanting more, more, more. "More!" he says, "need more Benny" and a third and then a fourth mind-scattering finger reaches up into him, pushing past the soft blood-filled membrane, stretching him 'til Dean isn't sure if it's this alone that makes him want to give it all up on the spot, or if it's knowing what comes next. Benny turns him to face the wall, hard hands spreading and exposing him ... Jesus, Jesus! Two thumbs are in him pulling him open and the cold hard tongue is opening him even wider, licking and sucking on his hole, biting at the stretched rim. If he'd been asked in that moment, he would have said 'yeah, bite me, drink me ...' without hesitating. Benny doesn't ask, because he's Benny, but fuck! Just the thought of being bled from there is too much. He goes limp, scrabbling at the wall for support before dropping to his knees on the ground right in front of Benny who’s saying something like, “I wanna be gentle Dean, wanna go slow with you but I can’t, been too long cher. Forgive me …”
Suddenly his pants are gone and he does scream then as his elbows hit the dirt and Benny drives into him so hard he can feel the pressure behind his teeth.
“Ssh sugar, jus’ you n’ me at this party, let’s makes sure it stays that way.” Then there’s a weight on his back and a hand reaching round to clamp over his mouth.
He says, “Ahhgh!” from behind hard fingers that smell of himself, his own musk and sweat and Benny is hitting that spot inside him over and over again until his vision blurs and goes dark for a moment. Then his mouth is released and the hand is on his balls, tugging and twisting so pain/pleasure shoot through him and with it a memory of sitting alone in the Impala and doing the same thing to himself.
Now he’s not sure whose hands are on him, his own or Benny’s, as fingers grasp his cock, tugging and twisting over and over as he's handfucked and assfucked faster and harder than he would ever have thought possible, faster than any human surely could. Being used like this makes him so hard he's suspended in an agony of lust and something that he has no words for, desperate to explode and desperate for it never to end. He starts to float as Benny holds him, one arm around his waist, with bruising intensity. He’s never been held like this, never so close, so … so …it’s like all of Benny is inside him, or is it the other way around. He wants to … Ah Jesus …! Benny’s groaning and shuddering, teeth-gritted, coming deep inside him, filling him up, the pulsing chill washing through his gut like liquid ice. One moment he’s rock hard and on the edge, then the electric shock starts at the base of his spine and rises up through him, swamping even the sensations of fucking. It’s like his whole body is coming, wave after wave of the most intense sensation he’s ever known and he’s dissolving, spreading wide into Benny and beyond Benny. Then, darkness.
When he opens his eyes Benny is saying, “Dean, Dean! Breathe cher, you gotta breathe.”
He takes a deep breath. “ ‘M ok.” Opening his eyes he sees that he’s dressed and sitting on the ground between Benny’s legs, back to his chest, folded in his arms. He feels the steady beat of the vampire’s heart against his spine, the flex of muscle and closes his eyes.
Benny starts to rock his upper body very slowly back and forth. “When I was a little kid my gran'mere used to sit in a chair on her porch and hold me like this. We’d rock together … always made me feel good.”
He manages to say, “When was that?” and doesn’t recognise his own voice.
“1833, if I remember rightly. She was born in the ol’ country, came to Louisiana with her parents in 1789, when things were real bad in France, with the revolution an’ all.”
“You remember that? Your human life?”
“I do, it’s real precious to me.”
They sit like this for what might be minutes or hours. He allows himself to sink into the body behind him right up until he hears himself say, “What was that Benny, what jus’ happened?”
“The fuckin’?”
“That what it was, huh?”
Benny laughs, low and warm. “Never jus’ that brother. That was fuckin’ with some high-powered mojo goin’ on between us. Felt I was bein’ pulled outa myself there at the end. Never known anythin’ like it.” He kisses the top of Dean’s head. “You?”
“Same kinda thing, powerful enough to knock me out I guess.” He leans away until he can see Benny’s face and smiles, tugging his suit pants higher on his hips. “Thanks for makin’ me decent.”
“No trouble sugar, happy touchin’ you even when there’s no-one at home …”
“I still don’t get it.” Dean shakes his head, “How could it happen? I ain’t a vampire and I sure as hell ain’t goin’ to live forever.”
Benny’s arms stiffen around him. “Ssh . Let’s just be here now.”
“We’re sitting in the dirt behind a mortuary Benny.”
“An’ whose fault’s that chief? I recall suggestin’ we find a decent place to parlay n’ you sayin’ no.”
Dean goes rigid then scrambles to his feet. Sam! Fuck, Sam will be going ape shit by now, wondering where he is. No longer touching Benny he immediately feels different, less warm, just somehow … less.
Benny says, “Sam?”
“Yeah, we’re on a job. He was expectin’ me hours ago an’ I don’t even know what time it is. Shit!”
Benny’s looking at him, face calm and neutral. He says, “I love you Dean, more than I’ve ever loved anythin’ in all of my lives.”
He’s searching for his tie now, pulling his suit jacket on. Everything is crumpled and filthy. Clutching the tie in one fist he says, “An’ I love you, I know that now, an' I ain't fightin' it. It feels so good when I’m with you, makes me real happy a ... an’ ...” He takes a long breath. "An’ I also know this can’t happen again. I want you alive and I don’t trust Sam with you, or you with him. This ends here, tonight, Benny. It sure as hell ain’t what I want but I couldn’t live with losin’ either of you.”
“I don’t reckon we got much choice Dean. Bein’ apart ain’t really an option here, you musta realised that these last months.” Benny steps forward until he’s pressed against Dean, foreheads touching. “There’s only one way outa this and that’s when one of us is gone, as in, dead n’ gone. If that’s what you want from me jus’ say the word brother.”
“Fuck no! Don’t even think that, you hear me!" Dean's shocked by the terror he feels at Benny's words. "Don’t … just don’t.”
“I ain’t goin’ back to the life I lived these past months Dean. I don’t want that again, hurtin’ all the time, tryin’ to keep away from you an' failin’ over an’ over.” He swallows visibly. “I know how things are with you n’ your brother, it don’t make no difference to me. You love him too, I know it.”
Dean goes absolutely still. “What d'you say?”
“You know what I’m sayin’.”
“So you’ve been spyin’ on me? On us?”
“ I told you, it ain’t possible to keep a distance. Believe me, I tried. Further I got, sicker I got. Guess you felt it too, you jus’ didn’t know why. So no, not spyin', that jus' ain't me Dean.”
“This is all kinds of fucked up! I gotta life and this - you an’ me and this great love? - it just don’t fit into that." Suddenly desperate he looks at Benny, like maybe he'll have some answer to the whole fucking situation, some idea that'll make it all possible. But Benny's silent and motionless again, waiting.
Dean takes another long breath. "Sam’s a killer an’ so are you Benny. You can’t be around him and that means you can’t be around me. 'S jus' how it has to be, man.”
Benny bends his head and is silent for a long moment. Looking up he smiles, so close and so fuckin’ sweet that Dean thinks his heart will split right down the middle. He wants to take him in his arms, hold him tight, feel him buried right up inside him … fuck! No, no, no!
“It’s OK Dean, it’s OK. I got it. It’ll be OK.” Benny places a chaste kiss on Dean’s mouth. It feels like a ghost brushing across his skin.
“Benny … “
“I’m good, n’ so are you. It’ll come right in the end, trust me.” Touching Dean’s face briefly he whispers, “So beautiful.” Then he steps away, smiling, that strange, bright smile and says, “Stay strong brother,” and he’s gone, swallowed up by the dark.
Series: End of the Line
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, implied Wincest
Summary: Dean and Benny meet after months apart. Dean grasps the enormity of what happened to him in Purgatory. Epic outdoor fucking, angst and lovin' ensue.
“Dean.”
He spins, hand going automatically to the gun under his suit jacket.
“Brother …”
Recognising the voice he drops the hand. Daylight is nearly gone and the parking lot at the side of the mortuary is already lit by street lamps. “Benny? That you man?”
“Yeah.” A shadow moves silently against a wall and then Benny’s walking towards him. “It’s me. Wasn’t so sure it was you though, almost don’t recognise you in that suit n’ tie.”
Just hearing that voice after so long and he's getting hard. Shit! As Benny gets closer Dean’s aware of a pulsing in his head and for a moment he’s almost dizzy with it. The vampire stops a few yards away, motionless, hands hanging by his sides and Dean starts to move reflexively, close the distance between them, but stops himself with an effort.
“Why you here Benny? Thought we agreed we ain’t doin’ this no more.”
Benny takes a single, silent step towards him and in the mix of dusklight and harsh orange from the street Dean sees how changed his friend is, how drawn and pale, even for a vamp.
“Wow, you look like shit man. What’s been happenin’?”
Benny smiles, a wide, happy smile but Dean's not fooled because he recognises the expression in his eyes; he’s seen it once before.
“I missed you brother.” Benny’s voice is quiet and hoarse. “Found I couldn’t do without you after all.”
“You low on blood again?”
Benny makes a dismissive, impatient gesture. He takes another step and Dean feels that surging pulse again, this time through all his body. What the fuck?
“Stop right there!” He lifts a hand, palm out. “I can feel some weird energy shit goin’ on. What you doin’?”
Benny starts to laugh, actually laugh, a genuine, cheerful sound. “Well, I’ve heard it called a lotta things, but never ‘weird energy shit’!
"What you talkin’ about? What ‘it?”
Benny pauses, humour gone. “So you do feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“The … thing, the uh … energy?”
“Yeah I feel it but got no clue what it is? D’you?”
Benny nods before stepping forward and laying his right palm gently against Dean’s cheek.
The earlier pulse transforms instantly into a bolt of sensation that shakes him from the feet up. Holy friggin’ shit! When he can speak again he mutters, “What the fuck Benny! How d’you do that?”
“I did nuthin’ Dean, It's both of us.”
“What you talkin’ about?” Looking at Benny up close he notices the tremors running through him and the way his fingers twist and tense as he speaks. Everything about this is setting his teeth on edge ‘cos Benny’s got a kinda junkie look to him that says he’s blood-starved.
Benny says, “Is there anywhere we can go? Somewhere quiet jus’ to talk?”
His first reaction is to say, ‘Yes’, but he crushes that down. Some part of him wants to wrap his arms around Benny just to see if that lightening thrill happens again. The part of him that’s John Winchester’s son and heir is saying, ‘starving vamp! kill it’s ass or get out fast.’ He says, “No. There's only the diner down the street and Sam’ll be walking back that way so, no. Better we stay here.”
Benny nods but seems to shrink into himself a little as Dean continues, “Tell me what it is you need and I’ll do my best, OK? I can’t promise anything anymore, that’s why I said what I said on the phone, I didn’t wanna let you down and I knew I would, sooner or later ‘cos Sam ain’t real forgivin’ when it comes to monsters.”
The twisting fingers go still, clench into fists. What the fuck is up with Benny? He barely recognises him and every instinct is screaming a reminder that this creature can hear the rush of blood in his veins and taste him in the air.
Benny's still tremoring, like with cold, but it’s got to be nearly 70 degrees. He steps closer and says, “Was it easy Dean, letting me go like that?”
He could say, ‘It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, it hurt like a motherfucker and it ain’t getting’ easier.’ He says, “No, it wasn’t easy.”
A hand reaches out again, but stops short of touching. Benny’s eyes and voice are soft as silk, “You’ve been hurtin’ too, I see it in your face brother …”
He waves a hand irritably, like he’s brushing something away. “Don’t call me that OK,” and when Benny pulls back, flinching like he’s been hit in the face, he says quickly, “Sorry man, that came out wrong.” He tries for cool, kind, “Look, why don’t you just tell me why you’re here …”
Benny’s voice, always gruff, is so low Dean can barely hear it.
“It’s a vampire thing, what you’re feeling.”
“How come you know what I’m feelin’ when I don’t know myself?”
“'Cos I feel it too. Something happened, in Purgatory, between us, it …it did something. Changed things.”
Dean feels a dreadful premonition, like what next comes outa Benny’s mouth might indeed have the power to change his life. “No!” he says, before he can even think about why. “No, don’t go there. The past is done. We did what we had to do, all of it and I don’t regret a moment. But that’s gone, it ain’t who we are now, up here.”
Benny seems motionless again if you ignore the tremors and water (shit, are those tears?) running unchecked down his face, pink tinged and terrible in the waning light. Dean wants to ignore it, all of it and flee, but something twists hard in his gut as he looks at his friend, twists and threatens to rise and choke him. “Benny, man, I’m lost here, help me out. What’s going on?”
“You ain’t lost Dean. You feel it, but you’re pretendin’ real hard that you don’t.”
“Feel what, man. What is it I'm meant to be feelin'?”
“This.” Benny steps forward and taking Deans face in both his hands, kisses him softly on the mouth.
Christ! Dean hurls himself backwards as a wave of pleasure, pain, joy, warmth, desire, rushes over him like a friggin’ tsunami. “What the fuck …!”
Benny’s smiling, all lit up now, tremors turned to actual shaking but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Benny …?”
“Love.” Benny says. “Love.”
“What? No!”
“It happened in Purgatory, that one time you … when we made l … love. Benny’s voice gets stronger as he continues speaks, like he’s finding courage. “I didn’t get it at first, didn’t understand, thought I was just missin’ my kill-buddy.” He’s still smiling a little, eyes brilliant with something that makes Dean want to look away. “But after our last call, when it really started hurtin’, then … then I got it. I remembered all the old stories from when I was first turned, ‘bout vampires who kinda … bonded. Thought it was just a myth y'know.” He laughs without humour. "It ain't."
“You sayin’ there’s some sorta vamp hoodoo on you? ‘Cos if that’s the problem man, we can fix it, get it lifted somehow.”
Now Benny’s look is pure exasperation. “I’m sayin’ that without knowin' it we locked onto each other." Dean shakes his head.
"Ain't no use you lookin' disbelieven' an' all Dean, 'cos I know it ain’t just me. Thought it was for a while, thought I was alone with it. Then I saw you, saw the hurtin’ an’ I knew right off, it’s both of us brother. Like it or not, we’re in this together.”
He finds he has no words and just stares at Benny, then away into the darkness as if seeking understanding.
“Castiel helped me get right.”
The angel’s name shakes him back into the moment. “Cas was here? When?”
“A day ago, maybe two. I kinda lose track of time.”
“He came to you and not me?” Is the vamp lying, messin’ with his head? “Why would he do that Benny?”
“I reckon he thought helpin’ me was pretty much the same as helpin’ you in this Dean. He saw I was sufferin’, saw you were sufferin’ … he put it together and showed me how things really stand with you an’ me.”
He whispers, “Jesus Benny, you sayin’ you’re in love with me or somethin’?” He can hardly bring himself to look at his former companion, wants a hole to open in the ground and swallow him up
Benny steps closer until there’s nowhere to look but right at him. “Yeah, I am.”
“What am I sposed to say to that?” He tries to twist away without seeming to do so. “You’re a guy, I’m a guy, that ain’t me man. Sorry, but it just ain’t.”
Benny’s close enough now that he can feel the rough fabric of his coat and under it the cool weight and power of his body. Suddenly there's not enough air to breathe and Benny's saying ...
“I was inside of you, my soul, all of me, inside your flesh. You carried me and you knew me, an’ I … I knew you too, brother, all of you." He's smiling again and seems unaware of his own tears.
"So beautiful Dean, so beautiful inside." The smile is blinding. "How could I not love you?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck! He has to move, get away from this whole situation. Right now the familiar insanity that is Sam seems preferable to this, which is way out-of-his-league fucked-up. But something is still churning round and round in him, keeping him rooted to the spot, waiting.
“Dean,” Benny whispers, face still alight, “Can I show you somethin’? Somethin’ unbelievable, kinda like … like magic ...”
He wants to say, ‘No! No more weird shit surprises’, but doesn’t resist when Benny takes his right hand and lays it flat on his chest.
“Feel.” Benny says, like he has difficulty speaking. “D'you f .. feel it brother?”
“What?” he tries to pull his hand away but the grip on him is powerful and determined. “I’m gettin’ noth …” He hesitates, presses harder on the solid flesh under his palm and then he feels it. Something so normal he’d missed it completely. “Christ! Benny,” he whispers, “is that what I think it is?”
Benny nods, carrying Dean’s hand from his heart to his face which is tear-wet and cool. He turns his cheek into the calloused palm, closes his eyes and lays a kiss against the skin. Dean can feel those tremors now, feel them moving into him like a contagion.
“How?”
Eyes still closed Benny says, “When I realised that maybe you … maybe you felt somethin’ too, it jus’ started.” He keeps a hold on Dean's hand like he can’t let go. His voice is quiet again so that, close as they are, Dean strains to hear, “’Til that moment, it ain’t never beat a day in near a hundred an’ fifty years.”
Dean lays his head down and listens. The pounding, steady beat echoes in his ear through the hard, chill muscle of Benny's chest and the sound raises a shocking tenderness in him. Lifting his head he’s considering whether he should say this aloud when Benny is on him, mouth pressed hard to his own, beard soft against his face and, “Ah, ah … fuck”, is all he can manage as a fierce spike of lust and longing pierces him so his knees start to buckle. Benny has him by the arm, pulling him into the deep shadows behind the silent mortuary building, all the time chanting ... “Missed you, missed you … so much. So many things I want to tell you, so much …" Then, "God, yes!”, as Dean opens his pants, takes possession of his cock then drops straight to his knees.
As he sucks on Benny it’s like his throat remembers the shape and feel of him. All those times in Purgatory, all those snatched moments of pleasure that made his existence bearable. He flashes back to the one time he’d made love with Benny, been inside Benny and yes, he remembers how it felt to hold Benny's soul in himself and birth him from the grave. Remembering, he wonders how he’d ever thought he could throw all that away like it was nothing. Tears run down his face, not from pressure but from dawning realisation. He sucks harder, holding Benny’s balls like something precious until his oxygen runs out and he pulls off, weeping openly. Benny’s drawing him up, kissing his mouth, his eyes, his jaw.
He says, “I’m sorry, so sorry …”
“Love,” Benny says, “there’s nuthin’ to be sorry for, nuthin’, ever.”
Then Dean's tearing at his own clothes, ripping the tie off his neck, wanting only to feel this lover in him, on him, in all the ways he’s longed for and dreamed of for months. Benny’s on his knees and Dean bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself howling as the cool, powerful throat wraps his cock and two long, thick fingers push up inside him with nothing more than spit. His legs are so weak he steadies himself on Benny’s head which makes the vampire vibrate low in his chest. The fingers dig deep and he begins riding down on them, wanting them gone and wanting more, more, more. "More!" he says, "need more Benny" and a third and then a fourth mind-scattering finger reaches up into him, pushing past the soft blood-filled membrane, stretching him 'til Dean isn't sure if it's this alone that makes him want to give it all up on the spot, or if it's knowing what comes next. Benny turns him to face the wall, hard hands spreading and exposing him ... Jesus, Jesus! Two thumbs are in him pulling him open and the cold hard tongue is opening him even wider, licking and sucking on his hole, biting at the stretched rim. If he'd been asked in that moment, he would have said 'yeah, bite me, drink me ...' without hesitating. Benny doesn't ask, because he's Benny, but fuck! Just the thought of being bled from there is too much. He goes limp, scrabbling at the wall for support before dropping to his knees on the ground right in front of Benny who’s saying something like, “I wanna be gentle Dean, wanna go slow with you but I can’t, been too long cher. Forgive me …”
Suddenly his pants are gone and he does scream then as his elbows hit the dirt and Benny drives into him so hard he can feel the pressure behind his teeth.
“Ssh sugar, jus’ you n’ me at this party, let’s makes sure it stays that way.” Then there’s a weight on his back and a hand reaching round to clamp over his mouth.
He says, “Ahhgh!” from behind hard fingers that smell of himself, his own musk and sweat and Benny is hitting that spot inside him over and over again until his vision blurs and goes dark for a moment. Then his mouth is released and the hand is on his balls, tugging and twisting so pain/pleasure shoot through him and with it a memory of sitting alone in the Impala and doing the same thing to himself.
Now he’s not sure whose hands are on him, his own or Benny’s, as fingers grasp his cock, tugging and twisting over and over as he's handfucked and assfucked faster and harder than he would ever have thought possible, faster than any human surely could. Being used like this makes him so hard he's suspended in an agony of lust and something that he has no words for, desperate to explode and desperate for it never to end. He starts to float as Benny holds him, one arm around his waist, with bruising intensity. He’s never been held like this, never so close, so … so …it’s like all of Benny is inside him, or is it the other way around. He wants to … Ah Jesus …! Benny’s groaning and shuddering, teeth-gritted, coming deep inside him, filling him up, the pulsing chill washing through his gut like liquid ice. One moment he’s rock hard and on the edge, then the electric shock starts at the base of his spine and rises up through him, swamping even the sensations of fucking. It’s like his whole body is coming, wave after wave of the most intense sensation he’s ever known and he’s dissolving, spreading wide into Benny and beyond Benny. Then, darkness.
When he opens his eyes Benny is saying, “Dean, Dean! Breathe cher, you gotta breathe.”
He takes a deep breath. “ ‘M ok.” Opening his eyes he sees that he’s dressed and sitting on the ground between Benny’s legs, back to his chest, folded in his arms. He feels the steady beat of the vampire’s heart against his spine, the flex of muscle and closes his eyes.
Benny starts to rock his upper body very slowly back and forth. “When I was a little kid my gran'mere used to sit in a chair on her porch and hold me like this. We’d rock together … always made me feel good.”
He manages to say, “When was that?” and doesn’t recognise his own voice.
“1833, if I remember rightly. She was born in the ol’ country, came to Louisiana with her parents in 1789, when things were real bad in France, with the revolution an’ all.”
“You remember that? Your human life?”
“I do, it’s real precious to me.”
They sit like this for what might be minutes or hours. He allows himself to sink into the body behind him right up until he hears himself say, “What was that Benny, what jus’ happened?”
“The fuckin’?”
“That what it was, huh?”
Benny laughs, low and warm. “Never jus’ that brother. That was fuckin’ with some high-powered mojo goin’ on between us. Felt I was bein’ pulled outa myself there at the end. Never known anythin’ like it.” He kisses the top of Dean’s head. “You?”
“Same kinda thing, powerful enough to knock me out I guess.” He leans away until he can see Benny’s face and smiles, tugging his suit pants higher on his hips. “Thanks for makin’ me decent.”
“No trouble sugar, happy touchin’ you even when there’s no-one at home …”
“I still don’t get it.” Dean shakes his head, “How could it happen? I ain’t a vampire and I sure as hell ain’t goin’ to live forever.”
Benny’s arms stiffen around him. “Ssh . Let’s just be here now.”
“We’re sitting in the dirt behind a mortuary Benny.”
“An’ whose fault’s that chief? I recall suggestin’ we find a decent place to parlay n’ you sayin’ no.”
Dean goes rigid then scrambles to his feet. Sam! Fuck, Sam will be going ape shit by now, wondering where he is. No longer touching Benny he immediately feels different, less warm, just somehow … less.
Benny says, “Sam?”
“Yeah, we’re on a job. He was expectin’ me hours ago an’ I don’t even know what time it is. Shit!”
Benny’s looking at him, face calm and neutral. He says, “I love you Dean, more than I’ve ever loved anythin’ in all of my lives.”
He’s searching for his tie now, pulling his suit jacket on. Everything is crumpled and filthy. Clutching the tie in one fist he says, “An’ I love you, I know that now, an' I ain't fightin' it. It feels so good when I’m with you, makes me real happy a ... an’ ...” He takes a long breath. "An’ I also know this can’t happen again. I want you alive and I don’t trust Sam with you, or you with him. This ends here, tonight, Benny. It sure as hell ain’t what I want but I couldn’t live with losin’ either of you.”
“I don’t reckon we got much choice Dean. Bein’ apart ain’t really an option here, you musta realised that these last months.” Benny steps forward until he’s pressed against Dean, foreheads touching. “There’s only one way outa this and that’s when one of us is gone, as in, dead n’ gone. If that’s what you want from me jus’ say the word brother.”
“Fuck no! Don’t even think that, you hear me!" Dean's shocked by the terror he feels at Benny's words. "Don’t … just don’t.”
“I ain’t goin’ back to the life I lived these past months Dean. I don’t want that again, hurtin’ all the time, tryin’ to keep away from you an' failin’ over an’ over.” He swallows visibly. “I know how things are with you n’ your brother, it don’t make no difference to me. You love him too, I know it.”
Dean goes absolutely still. “What d'you say?”
“You know what I’m sayin’.”
“So you’ve been spyin’ on me? On us?”
“ I told you, it ain’t possible to keep a distance. Believe me, I tried. Further I got, sicker I got. Guess you felt it too, you jus’ didn’t know why. So no, not spyin', that jus' ain't me Dean.”
“This is all kinds of fucked up! I gotta life and this - you an’ me and this great love? - it just don’t fit into that." Suddenly desperate he looks at Benny, like maybe he'll have some answer to the whole fucking situation, some idea that'll make it all possible. But Benny's silent and motionless again, waiting.
Dean takes another long breath. "Sam’s a killer an’ so are you Benny. You can’t be around him and that means you can’t be around me. 'S jus' how it has to be, man.”
Benny bends his head and is silent for a long moment. Looking up he smiles, so close and so fuckin’ sweet that Dean thinks his heart will split right down the middle. He wants to take him in his arms, hold him tight, feel him buried right up inside him … fuck! No, no, no!
“It’s OK Dean, it’s OK. I got it. It’ll be OK.” Benny places a chaste kiss on Dean’s mouth. It feels like a ghost brushing across his skin.
“Benny … “
“I’m good, n’ so are you. It’ll come right in the end, trust me.” Touching Dean’s face briefly he whispers, “So beautiful.” Then he steps away, smiling, that strange, bright smile and says, “Stay strong brother,” and he’s gone, swallowed up by the dark.