Blood Brothers
Title: Blood Brothers
Author: smash86
Rating: NC17
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Prompt: #2 Sam/Dean - Be my saviour and I'll be your downfall
Spoilers: S05 Episode 14 - My Bloody Valentine
Word count: 2,856
Warnings: Angst, Wincest, Blood Kink, Implied Sex,
Summary: Dean will do anything to save Sam…
Notes: Takes place after the Episode “My Bloody Valentine”
Tags: wordsmeetwings, Prompt Response, Round 3, Angst, Wincest, Blood Kink, Implied Sex, NC17, Dean/Sam
Sam slammed the empty glass down on the bar and picked up the next shot glass. He swirled the amber liquid around briefly before lifting it up and downing the bitter liquid, the glass never touched his lips and the whiskey barely touched his mouth before it burned down his throat.
The glowing warmth spread through him but it wasn’t enough...wasn’t nearly enough to stop the shaking of his hands or quench the thirst that had risen up strong and fierce since he had tasted demon blood again.
It had been five days since he had last drank the red poison...five days since he had destroyed the demons that Famine had devoured ... one day since he had been released from Bobby’s panic room like a shamed junkie. It had taken four long days to purge the toxin from his system this time and his throat was still raw from screaming, his body bruised and exhausted.
He should feel more indignant about the way Dean had manhandled him into the room and then strapped him down whilst Castiel lurked in the shadows just in case...he should but he doesn’t.
Dean had done the right thing, he always did ... no matter how much it hurt.
Sam had seen the disappointment and fear in his brother’s green eyes but it was tempered with love and that was all that mattered. Sam could cling to that in the throes of his delusions and blood fever because he needed something to hold on to when everything around him was falling apart...when he was breaking into a million tiny pieces.
Dean was the only good thing he had left, probably the only good thing he ever had if he was truly being honest with himself. The one person who never walked away no matter how many times Sam had stumbled away from him.
Sam knew in his heart he didn’t deserve Dean’s love. He also knew he couldn’t live without it.
As the barkeeper cleared away the empty glasses in front of him and Sam gestured for anther set, the young hunter clenched his jaw as the man’s heartbeat thrummed briefly through his own body.
Sam shook his head, eyes squinting warily at the older man but there was no sign to indicate the feeling had been anything but the ghost of his addiction. The feeling of power and lust and want that would haunt him like any other junkie...you never stopped being an addict you just stopped using.
The balding man returned with three more shots, giving him a rueful grin as he placed them down on the worn wooden bar top. “I’m gonna have to cut you off after this lot son, I think you’ve had enough and we close up in forty.”
Sam nodded, trying to keep his body steady. “Yeah, ‘kay.”
“You wanna call a friend to get you home or you wanna cab when you’re done?”
“No m’good. Just gotta walk a few blocks.”
“Your choice.”
The bartender laughed and it sounded brittle to Sam’s ears but that was probably the alcohol taking effect, distorting everything just a little....just enough to dull his senses and bravado and make him wish suddenly Dean was with him...beside him...warm hand on his shoulder.
He had left a note while Dean had been getting dinner because he couldn’t face telling his brother how weak he felt, how terrified. How much he just needed to stop feeling for a bit and escape from the guilt and fear of what he had done and who he had become.
An hour alone to drown himself wasn’t too much to ask. Just a small piece of oblivion away from the terror of heaven and hell and everything in between that seemed to be trying to pit them against each other, tear them down. They always had been...always would be...each others’ weakness and every demon on both sides of the hell mouth was aware of it...every angel seemed to bet on it.
The next two shots were gone in quick succession and they tasted like pure pleasure, pushing away his doubts and wrapping him up in a warm embrace. It wasn’t until Sam held the last glass paused near his mouth while he blinked to clear his vision that he noticed the faint red hue swirling malevolently under the seedy fluorescent light.
It wasn’t until he released the glass in horror, contents spilling across the wood and the shot glass rolling in slow motion until it disappeared off the edge of the counter and behind the bar, that he knew he had been poisoned.
Pushing up from the barstool, unmindful that it toppled over behind him, Sam stood up full height and swayed from the alcohol and the rush of the demon blood as it ran singing through his body like the first wave from a hit of speed.
“What did you do?”
His words were whispered but contained an unveiled threat and the barkeeper sank back against the rows of bottles lining the mirrored shelves behind him. Drunk or not, he realised this boy in front of him with the too dark eyes could do major damage if he wanted.
“Your friends ... they gave me a fifty to spike your drink man before they left. They said it was just Tabasco okay, extra hot...said your brother would appreciate it.”
“My brother...”
Sam didn’t waste time, he didn’t really care anymore about the cowering man in front of him because Dean could be in danger.
He slammed through the doors of the bar and out into the cold night air and was running even before he realised he was in motion. He had sprinted just over two blocks and he could see the partly broken neon sign of the motel they were at, lazily flashing half a vacancy sign when his vision swam a little.
Sam felt the first shudder rip through him as he passed the end of a row of buildings on the small town street and he veered into the bricks, hitting hard as his legs gave out and his heart hammered in his chest. Picking himself up off the pavement, the young hunter steeled himself against the craving that suddenly suffused his senses and left him reeling more so than his inebriation.
Pushing forward he kept going at an unsteady jog now...trying to keep his wits about him because he wouldn’t let his brother down. Not now, not after everything that Dean had done for him.
It was like he was running on pure adrenaline and he could feel that sense of raw power as he tried to control his breathing as he stood outside their motel room. It was the last room in the one storey block and the furthest from the office, so Sam drew the small hunting knife from the sheath on his ankle without feeling the need to use discretion.
He could see no lights through the curtains and he fumbled the old fashioned key in the lock, knowing he had lost the element of surprise well before he had even set foot in the room. Sam took a shaky breath as he turned the doorknob and then he shouldered through the door hoping that sheer force and speed would outweigh the need for surprise.
Knife drawn and fight instinct honed past the point of no return, Sam spun to his right as movement caught his eye and he jumped as the door slammed closed behind him. Someone grabbed his shoulder and he grazed the knife along skin before he was pushed up against the wall, hand pinned to his side.
“Sammy. Sam stop, it’s just me.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah man. You ... are you okay?”
Sam felt Dean’s hand find his face in the near darkness but all he could do was breathe because suddenly there was a band around his chest and he couldn’t get enough air. Every neuron in his body seemed to be firing at once and he was shaking uncontrollably...all amped up and nowhere to go.
“Sammy? C’mon you’re scaring me here. Did they hurt you?”
He managed to shake his head and then stopped wide eyed when he remembered what had happened.
“I tried calling you but you’re phone’s here ... there were demons here Sam, looking for you. I was just bringing dinner in and I saw them by the car and then they were on me. They brought me in here but once they saw your note, they knocked me out and booked I guess. I just came round before I heard you at the door.”
“C’mon Sam say something.” Dean released his hold on the younger boy and leaned over to flick on the light. “Lemme see you.”
“Sam...” Dean eyes travelled from Sam’s dilated eyes down to the trembling death grip he held on the knife and then back to the sweat covered and drawn features on Sam’s face. “...what happened?”
Sam could only meet his brother’s eyes briefly before looking away, looking down ... and then he staggered back.
“Oh God Dean ... m’sorry, m’sorry ... I didn’t mean to...”
Dean followed Sam’s horrified gaze to the cut along his forearm dripping blood and only now starting to sting from the blade’s sharp edge. It wasn’t even that deep it was just a flesh wound, probably didn’t even need stitching.
“Sam it’s okay.” But even as he spoke the words he knew it really wasn’t ... he knew there was more to it than his brother was letting on.
“No...” Sam lost the words when all he could see and smell was red.
Dean watched as Sam watched his arm ... watched the blood run unchecked and dripping now in splatters onto the floor and he knew.
“How much did you...?”
“Not much ... I ... I didn’t know ... too stupid, too drunk...” Sam shrugged and tore his eyes away. “...you need to get away from me before you get hurt ... again. You were right ... I’ve become what we hunt ... no matter how much I try to be strong there’s always something...”
“Yeah Sam I’ll just walk away and let you try and dry out alone or go suck on some demon because that worked so well before.”
Dean hadn’t meant to be so cruel, so honest but he hated that Sam was the victim here and couldn’t even see it. He saw the hurt on his younger brother’s face, in his eyes and he just wanted to fix it.
He had to find a way because he always did ... always looked out for his little brother.
Sam flinched away, moving sideways along the wall as Dean stepped closer.
“Dean I can’t ... the blood it’s making me ... I ... I want it.”
Dean closed his eyes for a minute, seeking refuge or some concealed answer that might be hiding in the dark ... but all he got was his father’s last words. When he looked back up at his younger brother, there was love in his eyes.
“I know Sammy, it’s gonna be okay though ...” He whispered the words as he moved forward slowly, nodding at Sam to trust him. “... I’m gonna save you.”
Dean moved quickly, ignoring the pain in his head and arm as he braced his lower leg behind Sam’s and pushed backwards, following Sam’s body down and straddling the younger boy on the floor.
“Dean ... stop ... please. You need to get away ... please.” Sam clenched his hands into fists instead of pushing Dean away.
Sam could smell the blood and even though he knew it wasn’t tainted, the blood lust that boiled within him didn’t care right now.
“No.” Dean moved so their foreheads were touching. “You need this and I ... want to give it. If this will stop you hurting Sammy please ... I can’t do it again ... put you in that room and listen to you scream. We’re caught between angels and devils and God won’t help us so we’re on our own Sammy ... and we’re stronger together ... you know that. I won’t lose you again.”
Sam gasped loudly, harshly at what Dean was implying … offering…and then he sobbed because he knew he could never resist this ... never say no to Dean … no matter the consequences.
Sam watched through slitted eyes, black with need and now lust, as his older brother’s bloodied arm moved towards his mouth. He grimaced as another sob escaped his lips because this was everything he needed right now and everything he had always dreamed about…and as he met his brother’s eyes … green colliding with hazel … he knew he would never be alone again.
Dean’s arm pressed against his mouth gentle but insistent and Sam opened his lips and tasted his brother’s blood, groaning with the taste and sensation, whimpering with the urgency for more.
His hands were clutching at Dean’s skin now, pulling the broken flesh against his tongue, sucking and lapping and devouring, hungry and greedy. The sounds that spilled from Dean’s lips, wanton and needy and perfect, spurred him on and he drank and sucked his brother’s blood and it was better than anything he had ever tasted.
Sam felt Dean’s hand on his face gently cupping his chin, and he released the skin from his mouth, panting from the frenzy of his ministrations.
“Off.” Dean’s voice was low and Sam trembled at the desperate, raw sound of it.
Dean began to peel his outer shirt, then t-shirt off the younger boy’s body and then eyes on Sam’s face, his fingers worked at the younger boy’s jeans and briefs sliding them down and off long lean legs until there was nothing but skin. Sam responded, mirroring his brother’s actions until they were both naked and breathless before each other on the floor.
“Wanna taste you Sammy ... please … need to taste you.”
Sam nodded. He belonged to Dean now and forever until all eternity amen…he always had but Dean had never laid claim before.
“Yes.” Sam swallowed and tried to restrain himself from begging.
Dean reached for the knife that had been discarded, forgotten by Sam’s fingers when he had fallen under his brother. The older boy held it in front of Sam’s face like a question and Sam nodded his reply with an audible gasp.
“Please … yes … anything Dean … anything you want.”
“Just you Sammy…always just you.”
And Dean pressed his mouth against his brother’s lips like a seal they were making or breaking in blood and saliva and love. Their tongues tangled and writhed against each other and their bodies followed, making up for lost time and just getting lost in the moment.
Dean broke away first, kissing along Sam’s jaw and then down his throat and chest and stomach, groaning at the arch of Sam’s body against his mouth.
He reached Sam’s hip and then let his fingers skim along the smooth skin over jutting bone and knew this is where he wanted to make a mark … step to the edge and just let go.
Dean met his brother’s eyes again because he had to know, make sure. Sam nodded at him, pupils black with lust or something else he didn’t want to think about so he slid the blade along the bone and watched in awe as the beautiful red liquid slipped out, sliding slick over tanned skin in rivulets.
Dean barely hesitated before his mouth covered the wound, tongue lapping tentatively at first but then when the tang reached the back of his throat and Sam moaned dirty and filthy, hand pushing his head down hard, Dean sucked fiercely … like he was dying of thirst.
He could taste Sam’s sweat mixed with warm blood, smell his brother’s arousal as heady and strong as the throb that now pulsed between his own legs. Dean wasn’t exactly sure when the air between them had become charged with more than just giving Sam what he needed but the desire to take everything Sam offered rushed through him as fierce as Sam’s want for blood.
Dean could feel Sam’s blood mix with his own and it seemed to set fire to his very bones...hot and intoxicating ... addictive.
Sam looked down his body and watched in awe as Dean’s mouth sent tendrils of pleasure up his thigh and then weaving through his groin. He couldn’t help lifting his hips, grinding his skin harder against his brother’s mouth as he felt Dean drinking him in ... as he willingly became his brother’s downfall.
When Dean lifted his head to meet his gaze, Sam saw the beautiful black pools of charcoal that had replaced the green and they seemed to look into his very soul. In that moment of understanding Sam couldn’t feel any remorse at what they were doing, what they had both now become.
When Dean’s blood stained mouth slipped wet and hot over the head of his swollen cock and down, down all the way...Sam knew he had been saved.
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