Beauty and the Beast 14/?
Title: Beauty and the Beast 14/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Wee!cest (Sam is 13), incest, language, mentions of extreme underage, rimming, bondage, dub-con, non-con
Summary: Long ago, the demon Azazel was told of a prophecy in which a boy king would emerge to lead the armies of darkness against the Light Bringer, a human who is said to have the power to seal the gates of hell forever. Finding the Boy King, he brought him to hell at only eight years of age. Now it is time for the boy to fulfill his role. There's only one problem: his love for a boy named Sammy.
WARNING: This chapter contains extreme underage. Skip if that bothers you.
"So…tell me about yourself, Sammy."
Sam tore his gaze away from the window to glance surprisingly at the woman in front of him, the sound of her voice breaking the trance placed on him from the clouds looming over the horizon. Being with a complete stranger felt surreal, the eyes boring into his missing the emerald hue he was used to seeing. That realization was what inevitably forced the tears he'd been holding back to escape down his cheeks before he could stop them, the salty trail they left behind stinging his sensitive face. He watched as Meg's eyes followed their movements, the curiosity she displayed at Sam's sadness confusing him.
"You okay?" she asked.
Sam smiled as he wiped the evidence of his pain away with his fingers, pushing the sleeves of his black hoodie up to cover his cold hands. "Um…no. No, not really."
Meg's brows furrowed. "Is it me?"
"No! God no. It's just-"
"You miss Dean."
It wasn't a question, and they both knew it. There was no other explanation that could explain why Sam was so depressed. Rather than try to hide it, he finally broke down and began to cry, hanging his head down so she couldn't see his face. He was so wrapped up in his misery that he didn't notice her slip into the booth beside him, the feeling of her fingers running through his bangs making him jerk in surprise.
"Honey…do you wanna go back?"
Sam laughed bitterly. "I can't. I'm the one who wanted to leave. I knew it would be difficult. God knows I love my brother. I just…I need to be away from him for a while. I don't have a choice. This is for the best. It's just gonna take some time getting used to is all. I'll be fine."
Meg smiled sympathetically then, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his forehead. "You're gonna be okay, sweetheart. I'm gonna make sure you have so much fun with me. I mean, look at where you are now. When was the last time you were at a McDonald's?"
Sam laughed. "Yeah…well, I certainly wasn't expecting this. Wasn't it you who wanted a hot dog?"
"Eh. Changed my mind. You're a kid and I know kids love this kinda shit."
"I'm not a kid," he snapped.
Meg stared at him with an intensity that scared Sam, an expression he couldn't identify present on her pretty face. "No," she replied softly. "You're not, are you?"
Their eyes locked on each other for a moment longer, Sam being the one to look away first when it became too much. "Will…will you take me back to where you live? I want to take a nap. I'm…I'm tired."
The foreign look she sported disappeared as quickly as it had come, the smile that replaced it much more reassuring. "Sure thing, kiddo. Let's go home."
The ride back to Meg's place was painful, each road they passed lengthening the distance between Sam and his brother. Nature flew past his window in a long succession of vibrant green foliage that swayed softly to the rhythm of the gentle breeze, the leaves on the trees shining brightly beneath the harsh rays of the Alabama sun. The dull shade of gray that colored the dirty pavement went unnoticed as children played barefoot in their rocky driveways, their carefree smiles making Sam frown in annoyance. The sound of their laughter rang in his ears in a taunting fashion, the cruel blade that life carried slicing through his fake façade faster than he had time to process. He'd tried so hard to pretend as if he enjoyed seeing people happy, but any satisfaction he gained from it was brutally stolen from him the longer he stayed within the arms of his own despair. He became increasingly frustrated at his apparent lack of enthusiasm for his own existence, confusingly unsure of why he couldn't have the same kind of wild abandon that kids his age seemingly possessed. He knew he was different from other children, but it still irked him that he couldn't share the same fate as all the other thirteen year olds out there. They had their Xboxes, their schoolwork, their normal families. What did he have? Oh, that's right; prophetic visions, a brand new guardian angel, a slew of servants at his beck and call that he couldn't exactly trust, and a demonic sibling who may or may not be an evil son of a bitch.
Dean. The very thought of him brought up a slew of memories Sam had long forgotten, the vivid details of their childhoods coming back to him in vibrant depictions of abnormal familial love. Seeing it now in his mind's eye, he should have known from the very beginning that things between him and Dean were never going to be the way they were supposed to be between siblings. He remembered the way Dean used to look at him, the adoration in his emerald eyes accompanied by something that at the time seemed remarkably unfamiliar. He recognized it for what it was now though…lust. Lust for his little brother. That kind of emotion shouldn't have been in the eyes of a boy Dean's age. He had that same look on his face the night he disappeared. The night everything changed forever…
Recollections of what happened earlier that day flooded Sam's consciousness, the sound of heated grunts and soft whimpers filling his senses as his mind went back to a moment frozen in time. He was lying on his back with Dean on top of him, their bodies bare except for the cotton underwear clinging to their hips in the scorching heat of the tiny bedroom. Dean had the covers pulled over them, the added weight making Sam sweat. He remembers hearing the soft click of the door being opened, but he was too focused on what his brother was doing to him to care. The older boy rotated his hips furiously, humping Sam hard enough to make his face contort in confused pleasure.
"De!" he whined loudly, the unfamiliar sensations coursing through his body frightening him. He sounded like he was in pain, a sound which would have made Dean's hips falter had he not been aware of just why little Sammy sounded the way he did.
"It's okay," Dean panted, sliding his tongue into Sam's mouth. "Just let it happen, Sammy. You know De likes to do things to make his baby feel good."
They stayed like that for another minute, Dean grinding his clothed erection into Sam's. Then the heat from his body was gone and Sam's little frame shuddered from the unexpected cold. He watched in an odd combination of fascination and horror as his older brother took off the offending clothing stuck to their hips, immediately blanketing himself over Sam's body once more. He took Sammy's little legs and wrapped them around his waist before leaning in to kiss the boy's flushed cheek.
"I want to be inside you, Sammy," Dean whispered. He looked like he was in pain, the kind of pain that told Sam that his brother knew he was going to be taken away that night. The thought of that made him whimper in agony as he watched the memory play out before him, all five of his senses transporting him back to the bedroom he'd shared with Dean before he disappeared.
"I don't know what that means, De," he replied softly.
"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good. You know big brother's gonna take care a you, work you so good. Remember how I had my fingers in there?"
Sam nodded his head slowly.
"I'm gonna do the same thing with this now, alright?" he said, showing off the cock he had in his hand.
Before Sam had time to answer, Dean plunged his tiny dick inside of Sam in one quick motion. Sam screamed from the intense pleasure that flooded him, the sensation of Dean slip sliding in and out of his body so good it bordered on painful. His brother might not have been that big at the time, but he was big enough to massage Sam real good from the inside, the feel of it forcing a long cry from the lips of both boys.
"Yeah, that's it, Dean murmured shakily, the desperation in his voice making Sam wince. "Take it, angel. Lie there and fucking take it. So good, Sammy. You feel so fucking good. De loves his little Sammy so much. Give it up to me, baby boy. Give it up for your big brother. I wanna feel that tiny little prick spasm against my belly."
Sam screamed as a gut wrenching ecstasy like he'd never known ripped through him. His wails disintegrated into erotic sighs of pleasure as Dean slid in and out of his body. The sticky sound of it made him shiver, eyes rolling back in his head as he dealt with the pleasurable aftershocks. His brother moaned loudly as he chased after his own orgasm, attacking Sam's mouth with teeth and tongue as if his life depended on it.
"Ooh yeah. That's it, baby. Come right on big brother's cock. So good, Sammy. So good."
Sam clung to Dean as he felt himself climax a second time, his nails leaving crescent-shaped moons etched into the older boy's skin. He stared into his brother's eyes as both boys worked themselves through it, the second orgasm making Sam's legs shake. When it was all over, Dean nosed Sam's sweaty bangs in affection. Placing a soft kiss to his forehead, Dean began to rotate his hips in tiny circles, staring into Sam's eyes as he leaned in and began whispering against his skin, sliding his tongue in and out of the wet cavern in between each word he spoke.
"I love you so much, Sammy. De's gotta go away for a while but I promise you I'll be back."
"De," Sam moaned, feeling his brother growing hard inside of him. "I don't…don't want you to go."
Dean began to cry then, kissing Sam all over his face as he squeezed him tighter than he probably should have. Sam felt his arms wrap around his brother in a gesture meant to soothe, the confusion turning into shame as he caught a glimpse of his father in the doorway. His eyes widened in terror as he took in the shocked expression on John's face, his heaving breaths causing Dean to stare quizzically at Sam before following his gaze across the room. His brother growled low in his throat, the pained look giving way to anger as he clutched at Sam possessively.
"Get out," he snarled.
John's shock had turned into rage as he took a step closer, stopping when he heard the sound of Sam's moan. Dean smiled demonically at him then, lips twisting upwards into a smirk that transformed his innocent little face into something sinister and…evil.
Sam moaned again as his brother bucked his hips, leaning down to lick up Sam's neck. "Yeah, that's it. You don't want to come any further do you, daddy? You don't want me to have to fuck him in front of you now, do you?"
Dean's evil chuckle chilled Sam to the bone, fear and arousal seeping into his pores as he watched the battle of wills transpire between father and son.
"Get the fuck off him, Dean."
"Or what?" Dean retorted.
"It is me that has to take care of him when you're gone, isn't it?"
Sam knew right then and there that their father had won that round, the vise like grip Dean had on him weakening as he slid out of his body, the feeling making Sam whimper in pleasure. Dean smirked at John's reaction, throwing the covers off and getting out of bed without a care in the world. He stood there, naked as the day he was born, glaring at his father as his hands balled into tiny fists at his sides. John broke the tension by walking towards the door, the sound of his voice shaky as he told Dean to meet him in the study.
When their father left, Dean turned to look at Sam, pain written all over his face. Not knowing what else to do, Sam smiled.
"I love you, Sammy," Dean whispered, the love in his eyes visible from all the way across the room. "No matter what happens…I'll always love you."
Before Sam had a chance to react, Dean was out the door. Recognizing the scene for what it was, Sam began to cry. If he had known at the time that he wasn't going to see his brother again, he would have run out the door after him. But as hard as he tried screaming for his past self to go after Dean, he knew it was useless. The past was the past. Nothing was going to change that. He was about to let go of his wretched memories when he suddenly found himself in the study with Dean and John, the change of scenery making him frown in bewildered confusion. This…this was all wrong. This wasn't a memory because he was in his bedroom when all this was happening. Sam sighed as he finally realized he was in another vision, this one being from the past. This was the second time he could remember being aware of his own state, the feeling as far removed from reality as it could get. Before he had a chance to question his sanity, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming.
Dean was sitting on the couch with his head down, the lack of emotion on his face a scary sight to behold. John had come into the room, pacing back and forth while keeping his eyes focused on the son that gave him so much grief. Sam tried to concentrate on what they were thinking, the ability to see into the minds of the people he was envisioning not as strong as it usually was.
"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?" John screamed, his fear of his son long gone in the midst of his own rage. "I really want to know, because I didn't think it was even remotely possible for an eight-year-old to even THINK about sex, let alone fucking have it! What the fuck were you thinking?! What in the hell was going through your fucking mind when you took advantage of your little brother, huh? What makes you think you have the right?"
Dean just sat there with his arms folded, his reaction making John angrier.
"ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT!"
Looking up at the demand, Dean looked his father square in the eye. "I made him feel good," was all he'd give as a response.
John stared at his son in disbelief. "He's too young for that kind of pleasure," he said through clenched teeth. "So are you, you evil little cretin."
Dean glared menacingly at his father. "I decide what he's too young for. I wanted him, so I took him." Standing to his full height, he walked over to John and stared up at him with an expression so intense, it made the older man wince. "Sam is mine. Don't think anything is going to change that. Besides, it's not like you've ever stopped us before. You know, when I'd rub the hell out of his little prick until he came all over himself?"
"I still love you, son," John said, ignoring Dean's attempts to anger him further. "I always will. But I hope to the Lord up above that you never get out of the hell that demon is putting you in."
"Hell will never keep me from him," Dean replied. "Nothing will. I will come back for him and when I do, you'd better be ready to give him up."
John's brows furrowed in anger. "I will never let you have him."
Dean chuckled as he walked to the door, turning around to face his father. "Too late, old man. I already do."
Sam followed as his brother stormed out of the house, his little legs stopping when he reached the window of Sam's bedroom. Staring up at it, he whispered Sam's name with such anguish, it made him wince. Before he could find out where the older boy went, he felt a hand shaking him awake. Opening his eyes, he frowned as he found himself back in the car with Meg, her eyes narrowing in confusion at the look on his face.
Hey, we're here. You okay? You fell asleep on me."
"Yeah…I'm fine," he replied. "I told you I was tired."
"Well now you can sleep in a nice warm bed. Come on, let's take a look at the house."
Stepping out of the car and into the sunlight, Sam stared at a mansion not much different from the one he'd just come back from. "Do all of you have houses this big?"
Meg smiled. "Well, this is technically Azazel's house but he lets me stay in it."
Sam stiffened. "So…you're a demon too then?"
"Oh child," she laughed. "Of course not. I'm just a nice girl who serves your older brother, that's all. Whenever he needs something, I'm usually the one he calls. But don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't come over until you're ready to see him."
Sam relaxed a bit at that, smiling despite himself. "Thanks, Meg. I think I'm gonna like you."
Meg grinned at Sam as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the both of them staring at the house in wonder. "Don't you worry, kiddo…me and you are gonna get along just fine."
The deafening silence of Dean's bedroom was maddening, made all the more so by the boy's refusal to be taken away from neither his bed nor the pillow he'd clutched in his arms all morning. It was starting to drive Alistair crazy. How the hell were they supposed to persuade the kid to get the show on the road when all he's been doing for the past couple hours is moping around as if Sammy being gone was the worst thing in the world?
"You really should get up, Dean. We need to start putting things into motion. We need to find out about the Light Bringer."
"I don't give a rat's ass about that asshole," Dean snapped, fresh tears falling down his face as he wrenched himself up and out of bed. Making his way to the bathroom, he fell to his knees and threw up in the toilet, the realization of his current situation making him sick to his stomach.
Alistair didn't know how it happened or why, but seeing his savior so weak and defeated made him snap. Reaching the boy in two long strides, he grabbed Dean's hair and wrenched him up off the ground, throwing him across the room until he landed on his bed with a loud thud. Before he knew what had happened, he was straddling the boy's hips in anger, wrapping his fingers into Dean's hair and pulling with all of his might. Satisfied at the pained whimper that emanated from the younger man, he leaned forward and made his grievances known, determined to set the child underneath him straight.
"Let me tell you something, Dean. There is more to life than your precious Sammy. There's a fucking war going on here, in case you hadn't noticed. The apocalypse is here and, whether you like it or not, you are smack dab in the middle of it. Now, I need you to get your head out of your ass and do your job! You're the chosen one, Dean. You're the promised savior that's supposed to beat the Light Bringer into oblivion and you can't do that if you don't even know who the fuck he is. You haven't established your army the way you should have so all of the demons here are walking around in circles waiting for your sorry ass to step up and be the person you're supposed to be. I have waited too long to let all this slip away, Dean. We WILL win this war because YOU are going to DO YOUR JOB!"
Dean stared up at Alistair submissively, all of the fight he had left inside him draining away with every second gone by without his boy by his side. "But…Sammy."
"I don't give a fuck about Sammy! You need to let that boy be, Dean. He's so much better without you near him. You're nothing but a bad influence on that kid. You took his virginity before you were dragged to hell, you sick motherfucker!"
Dean's eyes widened at that. "What? No…no I would never do that to him."
"Oh, so you don't remember?" Alistair asked, his demonic smile making Dean shiver. "Well, well, well. Hell really did take away a lot of your memories, didn't it? You picked that kid's cherry the night Azazel took you away, Dean. Sick motherfucker that you are, you tried to go a second time right in front of your father."
"No," Dean admonished, shaking his head frantically. "No…no I'd never-"
"Oh, but you did. You did and you loved every fucking second of it. Now that I think back on it, I believe he liked it too."
"NO!"
With a mighty display of power, Dean sent Alistair through the closed door of his bedroom, the sound of the action going unnoticed as he got off the bed he'd been on since the early hours of the morning. Pacing the floor like a madman, he clenched his eyes shut and tried to remember that awful night, the hazy memories giving way under the onslaught of Dean's will. He felt a wave of nausea pull at his stomach as every moment of Sam's abuse came flooding back to him. His moans of pleasure, his father's presence, and the look on his little brother's face during the entire thing all circled his brain until they jumbled in the mind he possessed like a sinister version of Twister, each memory entwined together to the point where Dean couldn't tell them apart.
Tears fell down his cheeks as he turned to glance at the demon sprawled out on the hallway floor, the eyes staring back at him glaring daggers at their hated target.
"You're right," he replied shakily. "I'm no good for Sam. I…I've tried so…hard to give him a good life and where has it gotten the poor kid? I've raped him, I've stolen his innocence, I've locked him in a dungeon and I've taken away any possibility of him ever obtaining a normal life. I'm a terrible brother. I'm a terrible brother and he deserves better than me. But I'll tell you one thing…I'm gonna do right by him this time. I'm going to assemble my army, annihilate this wretched Light Bringer and release Satan from that godawful cage God's placed him in. Then, when all of this is said and done, I'm gonna be Lucifer's right hand man and Sam is never going to want or need for anything ever again."
Alistair smiled devilishly as he looked up at his impenetrable savior, the strength he exuded evidence of his newly established position as the chosen one that would save them all. He'd gotten the boy right where he wanted him; strong, ruthless and completely without mercy. It was finally here, the moment him and Azazel had been waiting for since they'd first heard of Lucifer's plans to defeat God and his pathetic angels. It was the moment when their boy would rise up and claim what was rightfully his, accepting his fate with the kind of ease that would make his master proud. He was finally here. Their chosen one; their savior.
Rising to his full height, he gazed into the eyes of the boy across the room with the vigilance of a hawk, the child's next words making him burst with excitement
"Let's go find that Light Bringer."
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Wee!cest (Sam is 13), incest, language, mentions of extreme underage, rimming, bondage, dub-con, non-con
Summary: Long ago, the demon Azazel was told of a prophecy in which a boy king would emerge to lead the armies of darkness against the Light Bringer, a human who is said to have the power to seal the gates of hell forever. Finding the Boy King, he brought him to hell at only eight years of age. Now it is time for the boy to fulfill his role. There's only one problem: his love for a boy named Sammy.
WARNING: This chapter contains extreme underage. Skip if that bothers you.
"So…tell me about yourself, Sammy."
Sam tore his gaze away from the window to glance surprisingly at the woman in front of him, the sound of her voice breaking the trance placed on him from the clouds looming over the horizon. Being with a complete stranger felt surreal, the eyes boring into his missing the emerald hue he was used to seeing. That realization was what inevitably forced the tears he'd been holding back to escape down his cheeks before he could stop them, the salty trail they left behind stinging his sensitive face. He watched as Meg's eyes followed their movements, the curiosity she displayed at Sam's sadness confusing him.
"You okay?" she asked.
Sam smiled as he wiped the evidence of his pain away with his fingers, pushing the sleeves of his black hoodie up to cover his cold hands. "Um…no. No, not really."
Meg's brows furrowed. "Is it me?"
"No! God no. It's just-"
"You miss Dean."
It wasn't a question, and they both knew it. There was no other explanation that could explain why Sam was so depressed. Rather than try to hide it, he finally broke down and began to cry, hanging his head down so she couldn't see his face. He was so wrapped up in his misery that he didn't notice her slip into the booth beside him, the feeling of her fingers running through his bangs making him jerk in surprise.
"Honey…do you wanna go back?"
Sam laughed bitterly. "I can't. I'm the one who wanted to leave. I knew it would be difficult. God knows I love my brother. I just…I need to be away from him for a while. I don't have a choice. This is for the best. It's just gonna take some time getting used to is all. I'll be fine."
Meg smiled sympathetically then, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his forehead. "You're gonna be okay, sweetheart. I'm gonna make sure you have so much fun with me. I mean, look at where you are now. When was the last time you were at a McDonald's?"
Sam laughed. "Yeah…well, I certainly wasn't expecting this. Wasn't it you who wanted a hot dog?"
"Eh. Changed my mind. You're a kid and I know kids love this kinda shit."
"I'm not a kid," he snapped.
Meg stared at him with an intensity that scared Sam, an expression he couldn't identify present on her pretty face. "No," she replied softly. "You're not, are you?"
Their eyes locked on each other for a moment longer, Sam being the one to look away first when it became too much. "Will…will you take me back to where you live? I want to take a nap. I'm…I'm tired."
The foreign look she sported disappeared as quickly as it had come, the smile that replaced it much more reassuring. "Sure thing, kiddo. Let's go home."
The ride back to Meg's place was painful, each road they passed lengthening the distance between Sam and his brother. Nature flew past his window in a long succession of vibrant green foliage that swayed softly to the rhythm of the gentle breeze, the leaves on the trees shining brightly beneath the harsh rays of the Alabama sun. The dull shade of gray that colored the dirty pavement went unnoticed as children played barefoot in their rocky driveways, their carefree smiles making Sam frown in annoyance. The sound of their laughter rang in his ears in a taunting fashion, the cruel blade that life carried slicing through his fake façade faster than he had time to process. He'd tried so hard to pretend as if he enjoyed seeing people happy, but any satisfaction he gained from it was brutally stolen from him the longer he stayed within the arms of his own despair. He became increasingly frustrated at his apparent lack of enthusiasm for his own existence, confusingly unsure of why he couldn't have the same kind of wild abandon that kids his age seemingly possessed. He knew he was different from other children, but it still irked him that he couldn't share the same fate as all the other thirteen year olds out there. They had their Xboxes, their schoolwork, their normal families. What did he have? Oh, that's right; prophetic visions, a brand new guardian angel, a slew of servants at his beck and call that he couldn't exactly trust, and a demonic sibling who may or may not be an evil son of a bitch.
Dean. The very thought of him brought up a slew of memories Sam had long forgotten, the vivid details of their childhoods coming back to him in vibrant depictions of abnormal familial love. Seeing it now in his mind's eye, he should have known from the very beginning that things between him and Dean were never going to be the way they were supposed to be between siblings. He remembered the way Dean used to look at him, the adoration in his emerald eyes accompanied by something that at the time seemed remarkably unfamiliar. He recognized it for what it was now though…lust. Lust for his little brother. That kind of emotion shouldn't have been in the eyes of a boy Dean's age. He had that same look on his face the night he disappeared. The night everything changed forever…
Recollections of what happened earlier that day flooded Sam's consciousness, the sound of heated grunts and soft whimpers filling his senses as his mind went back to a moment frozen in time. He was lying on his back with Dean on top of him, their bodies bare except for the cotton underwear clinging to their hips in the scorching heat of the tiny bedroom. Dean had the covers pulled over them, the added weight making Sam sweat. He remembers hearing the soft click of the door being opened, but he was too focused on what his brother was doing to him to care. The older boy rotated his hips furiously, humping Sam hard enough to make his face contort in confused pleasure.
"De!" he whined loudly, the unfamiliar sensations coursing through his body frightening him. He sounded like he was in pain, a sound which would have made Dean's hips falter had he not been aware of just why little Sammy sounded the way he did.
"It's okay," Dean panted, sliding his tongue into Sam's mouth. "Just let it happen, Sammy. You know De likes to do things to make his baby feel good."
They stayed like that for another minute, Dean grinding his clothed erection into Sam's. Then the heat from his body was gone and Sam's little frame shuddered from the unexpected cold. He watched in an odd combination of fascination and horror as his older brother took off the offending clothing stuck to their hips, immediately blanketing himself over Sam's body once more. He took Sammy's little legs and wrapped them around his waist before leaning in to kiss the boy's flushed cheek.
"I want to be inside you, Sammy," Dean whispered. He looked like he was in pain, the kind of pain that told Sam that his brother knew he was going to be taken away that night. The thought of that made him whimper in agony as he watched the memory play out before him, all five of his senses transporting him back to the bedroom he'd shared with Dean before he disappeared.
"I don't know what that means, De," he replied softly.
"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good. You know big brother's gonna take care a you, work you so good. Remember how I had my fingers in there?"
Sam nodded his head slowly.
"I'm gonna do the same thing with this now, alright?" he said, showing off the cock he had in his hand.
Before Sam had time to answer, Dean plunged his tiny dick inside of Sam in one quick motion. Sam screamed from the intense pleasure that flooded him, the sensation of Dean slip sliding in and out of his body so good it bordered on painful. His brother might not have been that big at the time, but he was big enough to massage Sam real good from the inside, the feel of it forcing a long cry from the lips of both boys.
"Yeah, that's it, Dean murmured shakily, the desperation in his voice making Sam wince. "Take it, angel. Lie there and fucking take it. So good, Sammy. You feel so fucking good. De loves his little Sammy so much. Give it up to me, baby boy. Give it up for your big brother. I wanna feel that tiny little prick spasm against my belly."
Sam screamed as a gut wrenching ecstasy like he'd never known ripped through him. His wails disintegrated into erotic sighs of pleasure as Dean slid in and out of his body. The sticky sound of it made him shiver, eyes rolling back in his head as he dealt with the pleasurable aftershocks. His brother moaned loudly as he chased after his own orgasm, attacking Sam's mouth with teeth and tongue as if his life depended on it.
"Ooh yeah. That's it, baby. Come right on big brother's cock. So good, Sammy. So good."
Sam clung to Dean as he felt himself climax a second time, his nails leaving crescent-shaped moons etched into the older boy's skin. He stared into his brother's eyes as both boys worked themselves through it, the second orgasm making Sam's legs shake. When it was all over, Dean nosed Sam's sweaty bangs in affection. Placing a soft kiss to his forehead, Dean began to rotate his hips in tiny circles, staring into Sam's eyes as he leaned in and began whispering against his skin, sliding his tongue in and out of the wet cavern in between each word he spoke.
"I love you so much, Sammy. De's gotta go away for a while but I promise you I'll be back."
"De," Sam moaned, feeling his brother growing hard inside of him. "I don't…don't want you to go."
Dean began to cry then, kissing Sam all over his face as he squeezed him tighter than he probably should have. Sam felt his arms wrap around his brother in a gesture meant to soothe, the confusion turning into shame as he caught a glimpse of his father in the doorway. His eyes widened in terror as he took in the shocked expression on John's face, his heaving breaths causing Dean to stare quizzically at Sam before following his gaze across the room. His brother growled low in his throat, the pained look giving way to anger as he clutched at Sam possessively.
"Get out," he snarled.
John's shock had turned into rage as he took a step closer, stopping when he heard the sound of Sam's moan. Dean smiled demonically at him then, lips twisting upwards into a smirk that transformed his innocent little face into something sinister and…evil.
Sam moaned again as his brother bucked his hips, leaning down to lick up Sam's neck. "Yeah, that's it. You don't want to come any further do you, daddy? You don't want me to have to fuck him in front of you now, do you?"
Dean's evil chuckle chilled Sam to the bone, fear and arousal seeping into his pores as he watched the battle of wills transpire between father and son.
"Get the fuck off him, Dean."
"Or what?" Dean retorted.
"It is me that has to take care of him when you're gone, isn't it?"
Sam knew right then and there that their father had won that round, the vise like grip Dean had on him weakening as he slid out of his body, the feeling making Sam whimper in pleasure. Dean smirked at John's reaction, throwing the covers off and getting out of bed without a care in the world. He stood there, naked as the day he was born, glaring at his father as his hands balled into tiny fists at his sides. John broke the tension by walking towards the door, the sound of his voice shaky as he told Dean to meet him in the study.
When their father left, Dean turned to look at Sam, pain written all over his face. Not knowing what else to do, Sam smiled.
"I love you, Sammy," Dean whispered, the love in his eyes visible from all the way across the room. "No matter what happens…I'll always love you."
Before Sam had a chance to react, Dean was out the door. Recognizing the scene for what it was, Sam began to cry. If he had known at the time that he wasn't going to see his brother again, he would have run out the door after him. But as hard as he tried screaming for his past self to go after Dean, he knew it was useless. The past was the past. Nothing was going to change that. He was about to let go of his wretched memories when he suddenly found himself in the study with Dean and John, the change of scenery making him frown in bewildered confusion. This…this was all wrong. This wasn't a memory because he was in his bedroom when all this was happening. Sam sighed as he finally realized he was in another vision, this one being from the past. This was the second time he could remember being aware of his own state, the feeling as far removed from reality as it could get. Before he had a chance to question his sanity, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming.
Dean was sitting on the couch with his head down, the lack of emotion on his face a scary sight to behold. John had come into the room, pacing back and forth while keeping his eyes focused on the son that gave him so much grief. Sam tried to concentrate on what they were thinking, the ability to see into the minds of the people he was envisioning not as strong as it usually was.
"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?" John screamed, his fear of his son long gone in the midst of his own rage. "I really want to know, because I didn't think it was even remotely possible for an eight-year-old to even THINK about sex, let alone fucking have it! What the fuck were you thinking?! What in the hell was going through your fucking mind when you took advantage of your little brother, huh? What makes you think you have the right?"
Dean just sat there with his arms folded, his reaction making John angrier.
"ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT!"
Looking up at the demand, Dean looked his father square in the eye. "I made him feel good," was all he'd give as a response.
John stared at his son in disbelief. "He's too young for that kind of pleasure," he said through clenched teeth. "So are you, you evil little cretin."
Dean glared menacingly at his father. "I decide what he's too young for. I wanted him, so I took him." Standing to his full height, he walked over to John and stared up at him with an expression so intense, it made the older man wince. "Sam is mine. Don't think anything is going to change that. Besides, it's not like you've ever stopped us before. You know, when I'd rub the hell out of his little prick until he came all over himself?"
"I still love you, son," John said, ignoring Dean's attempts to anger him further. "I always will. But I hope to the Lord up above that you never get out of the hell that demon is putting you in."
"Hell will never keep me from him," Dean replied. "Nothing will. I will come back for him and when I do, you'd better be ready to give him up."
John's brows furrowed in anger. "I will never let you have him."
Dean chuckled as he walked to the door, turning around to face his father. "Too late, old man. I already do."
Sam followed as his brother stormed out of the house, his little legs stopping when he reached the window of Sam's bedroom. Staring up at it, he whispered Sam's name with such anguish, it made him wince. Before he could find out where the older boy went, he felt a hand shaking him awake. Opening his eyes, he frowned as he found himself back in the car with Meg, her eyes narrowing in confusion at the look on his face.
Hey, we're here. You okay? You fell asleep on me."
"Yeah…I'm fine," he replied. "I told you I was tired."
"Well now you can sleep in a nice warm bed. Come on, let's take a look at the house."
Stepping out of the car and into the sunlight, Sam stared at a mansion not much different from the one he'd just come back from. "Do all of you have houses this big?"
Meg smiled. "Well, this is technically Azazel's house but he lets me stay in it."
Sam stiffened. "So…you're a demon too then?"
"Oh child," she laughed. "Of course not. I'm just a nice girl who serves your older brother, that's all. Whenever he needs something, I'm usually the one he calls. But don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't come over until you're ready to see him."
Sam relaxed a bit at that, smiling despite himself. "Thanks, Meg. I think I'm gonna like you."
Meg grinned at Sam as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the both of them staring at the house in wonder. "Don't you worry, kiddo…me and you are gonna get along just fine."
The deafening silence of Dean's bedroom was maddening, made all the more so by the boy's refusal to be taken away from neither his bed nor the pillow he'd clutched in his arms all morning. It was starting to drive Alistair crazy. How the hell were they supposed to persuade the kid to get the show on the road when all he's been doing for the past couple hours is moping around as if Sammy being gone was the worst thing in the world?
"You really should get up, Dean. We need to start putting things into motion. We need to find out about the Light Bringer."
"I don't give a rat's ass about that asshole," Dean snapped, fresh tears falling down his face as he wrenched himself up and out of bed. Making his way to the bathroom, he fell to his knees and threw up in the toilet, the realization of his current situation making him sick to his stomach.
Alistair didn't know how it happened or why, but seeing his savior so weak and defeated made him snap. Reaching the boy in two long strides, he grabbed Dean's hair and wrenched him up off the ground, throwing him across the room until he landed on his bed with a loud thud. Before he knew what had happened, he was straddling the boy's hips in anger, wrapping his fingers into Dean's hair and pulling with all of his might. Satisfied at the pained whimper that emanated from the younger man, he leaned forward and made his grievances known, determined to set the child underneath him straight.
"Let me tell you something, Dean. There is more to life than your precious Sammy. There's a fucking war going on here, in case you hadn't noticed. The apocalypse is here and, whether you like it or not, you are smack dab in the middle of it. Now, I need you to get your head out of your ass and do your job! You're the chosen one, Dean. You're the promised savior that's supposed to beat the Light Bringer into oblivion and you can't do that if you don't even know who the fuck he is. You haven't established your army the way you should have so all of the demons here are walking around in circles waiting for your sorry ass to step up and be the person you're supposed to be. I have waited too long to let all this slip away, Dean. We WILL win this war because YOU are going to DO YOUR JOB!"
Dean stared up at Alistair submissively, all of the fight he had left inside him draining away with every second gone by without his boy by his side. "But…Sammy."
"I don't give a fuck about Sammy! You need to let that boy be, Dean. He's so much better without you near him. You're nothing but a bad influence on that kid. You took his virginity before you were dragged to hell, you sick motherfucker!"
Dean's eyes widened at that. "What? No…no I would never do that to him."
"Oh, so you don't remember?" Alistair asked, his demonic smile making Dean shiver. "Well, well, well. Hell really did take away a lot of your memories, didn't it? You picked that kid's cherry the night Azazel took you away, Dean. Sick motherfucker that you are, you tried to go a second time right in front of your father."
"No," Dean admonished, shaking his head frantically. "No…no I'd never-"
"Oh, but you did. You did and you loved every fucking second of it. Now that I think back on it, I believe he liked it too."
"NO!"
With a mighty display of power, Dean sent Alistair through the closed door of his bedroom, the sound of the action going unnoticed as he got off the bed he'd been on since the early hours of the morning. Pacing the floor like a madman, he clenched his eyes shut and tried to remember that awful night, the hazy memories giving way under the onslaught of Dean's will. He felt a wave of nausea pull at his stomach as every moment of Sam's abuse came flooding back to him. His moans of pleasure, his father's presence, and the look on his little brother's face during the entire thing all circled his brain until they jumbled in the mind he possessed like a sinister version of Twister, each memory entwined together to the point where Dean couldn't tell them apart.
Tears fell down his cheeks as he turned to glance at the demon sprawled out on the hallway floor, the eyes staring back at him glaring daggers at their hated target.
"You're right," he replied shakily. "I'm no good for Sam. I…I've tried so…hard to give him a good life and where has it gotten the poor kid? I've raped him, I've stolen his innocence, I've locked him in a dungeon and I've taken away any possibility of him ever obtaining a normal life. I'm a terrible brother. I'm a terrible brother and he deserves better than me. But I'll tell you one thing…I'm gonna do right by him this time. I'm going to assemble my army, annihilate this wretched Light Bringer and release Satan from that godawful cage God's placed him in. Then, when all of this is said and done, I'm gonna be Lucifer's right hand man and Sam is never going to want or need for anything ever again."
Alistair smiled devilishly as he looked up at his impenetrable savior, the strength he exuded evidence of his newly established position as the chosen one that would save them all. He'd gotten the boy right where he wanted him; strong, ruthless and completely without mercy. It was finally here, the moment him and Azazel had been waiting for since they'd first heard of Lucifer's plans to defeat God and his pathetic angels. It was the moment when their boy would rise up and claim what was rightfully his, accepting his fate with the kind of ease that would make his master proud. He was finally here. Their chosen one; their savior.
Rising to his full height, he gazed into the eyes of the boy across the room with the vigilance of a hawk, the child's next words making him burst with excitement
"Let's go find that Light Bringer."