Samsara 2/?
Title: Samsara 2/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Dub-con, Violence
Summary: 200 years ago, Dean Winchester lost his brother to murder. Desperate to retrieve the only person he ever loved, he accepted the offer of a very powerful vampire and was made immortal. Now, after years of searching, he has finally found Samuel's soul once again. But trying to convince Sam to accept his offer of eternal life may prove harder than he ever thought possible.
Sam knew he was enveloped by sleep's suffocating embrace the moment he found himself far from the bed in which his body still resided, the leafless forest of his dreams filling him with a strange sense of dread. The silence of his surroundings was interrupted only by the swaying of bare branches crepitating in perfect harmony with the cold October air, each gust of wind seemingly blowing a hole right through Sam's soul. Moonlight cast an ominous glow on the path existing between the rows of trees lining the edges on either side, giving the sleeping boy just enough light to maneuver his way around the woodlands besieging him. Eventually, he came to a clearing where an open space spread the forest like a lover opening the legs of their conquest, leaving the trees to encircle its rounded form. In the middle sat a small cottage surrounded by flowers of vibrant coloration, it's very existence beautifying the eerie landscape enclosing its foundation. A light shade of brown marked the thatched roof which formed an upside down V on the top of a large wooden door, giving it a fairytale like appearance. All of that, combined with the stone path leading up to what Sam could have sworn was a shelter fit for a storybook character, was far too appeasing on the eyes to resist.
Thirty steps later and the wondering boy found himself inside his cozy abode looking around shamelessly at the interior design of his surroundings. The wooden floors creaked as Sam took a cautious walk around the living room, ceasing his movements when crackles erupted from the fireplace at the other end, red and yellow battling for dominance amidst an ocean of dancing flames. The sheepskin carpet located underneath had Sam flat on his back before he could stop himself, reveling in the feel of heated fur on his skin. He closed his eyes as relaxation blossomed around him in comforting spasms of peaceful ecstasy, his tiny whimper lost amongst the soothing sounds of the roaring fireplace. Minutes ticked by for what must have been forever, so lost was he in his own heaven that time itself didn't seem to matter anymore. It wasn't until the floor groaned in protest that Sam's eyes popped open in surprise, the realization that someone else was in the room with him forcing the weight of his upper body on his elbows to peer curiously at the sight before him.
Sam sprang up as soon as hazel clashed with deep emerald orbs that remained far too familiar for his liking, the barest hint of guilt at the arousal creeping up his spine overshadowed by longing so keen, it was a wonder his knees didn't buckle under the force of its intensity. A sigh of unbearable lust surged from the deepest recesses of his very soul, its emergence creating an invisible tether which wrapped around both men and drew them closer together in a cocoon of suppressed desire, tying one to the other for all eternity. A combination of fear and excitement injected itself into Sam's veins, instilling its life force within every inch of his very being.
"It's you again," he exclaimed breathlessly, trailing his eyes up and down the man's clothed form.
Sam's muscles tensed beneath his t-shirt as the man took a couple of steps forward, stopping dead in his tracks at the unpleasant reaction. The close proximity of their bodies forced an involuntary shiver down Sam's torso, every nerve ending he possessed burning with unquenchable need. Two sets of pupils expanded as both lovers stared the other down, electricity sparking between them like the incessant crackling of convulsing fireworks lighting up the night sky.
"Sammy," the man hissed lustily, crossing the distance between them in three long strides of purposeful movement.
The sudden heat of his lover's body had Sam gasping in surprise, foreheads pressed together as the stranger gazed deeply into his frightened eyes. Inexperienced fingers fisted the lapels of the man's long black coat in a deathlike grip, the owner of the trembling hands desperately trying to clear the hazy thoughts plaguing his bewildered mind. A brief recollection of a different face fought to take root inside of his consciousness, but the memory found itself brutally rebuffed as soft, full lips met the tip of a rounded nose, short-circuiting Sam's overworked brain and replacing the vague image of who he now knew to be Ambrose with warm breath ghosting over his skin in soothing sensations ensnaring his greedy senses.
"My sweet Samuel. My ravishing flower. Your body calls to me, my love. It aches for my touch. Can you hear it, darling?"
Sam stared at him through half-hooded eyelids, the intoxicating aroma of peaches and cream invading his nostrils the same way it'd done many times before this night, when the encompassing hallucinations plaguing his head drowned him in a sea of perpetual lust so excruciatingly potent, it was a wonder he even found the strength to wake up at all.
"Why are you haunting me?" Sam whimpered pitifully, the helplessness he felt making it hard for him to breathe.
The eyebrows of his lover drifted upwards in an expression of surprise, his face contorting in something akin to pain.
"I'm…haunting you?" he asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through all these years, Samuel? For two centuries, I've watched and waited for you. I have…ached for your soul to return to the place inside of mine where it belongs, to retrieve that which had been brutally taken from me. After all this time, my search has finally led me to my most prized possession, and I will not let you slip away, not after all the trouble I've gone through to find you."
"I…I don't understand. You're not making any sense. Can't you just go away? Why do you have to torture me so?"
The persistent man before him growled, the very sound stunning Sam into silence. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself sitting atop a table in front of the fireplace, the hips of his lovely admirer resting comfortably between his spread legs. Rough hands reached around to grab his lower back and press their bodies flush together, the evidence of the man's arousal digging into the heat of his own.
"Do you feel that, Samuel?" he asked. "Do you even have the slightest idea what you do to me? It's you who's torturing me. I can't tell you how many times I've laid in bed at night dreaming about your touch, your taste…your fuck."
His last word was uttered so quietly, and with such anguish, it took away the very breath Sam had fought so hard to hold onto. Tears fell in thin rivulets down his damp cheeks, the feel of them strange and foreign, yet somehow familiar in a way that he didn't understand. His breaths became labored with the force of his agony, the pain made all the more excruciating by the sadness he could see reflected off the deep green irises of his handsome lover.
"I want to be inside of you, Samuel," the man whispered shakily, licking away Sam's tears while ignoring his own. "Give in to me."
Sam's response was cut off by an insistent tongue sliding between his soft lips, their moans entwining together in an erotic symphony of unbearable sensuality. He barely registered the arms that lifted him off the table until he felt the soft fur of the rug beneath his aching back, gasping in lust and arching his body as both sides of his shirt was gripped by his lover's hands and pulled in opposite directions, buttons flying in the air while the material was ripped roughly from his heaving chest, exposing his skin to the warmth of the roaring fireplace. A tight suction immediately latched on to one of his pebbled nipples, the pleasurable sensation making his eyes roll back in his head as a loud exhale escaped from his trembling lips in sheer bliss. His efforts to form a single cohesive thought disintegrated immediately when his pants were pulled down around his ankles and the erect shaft pressed against the rounded curve of his belly was engulfed by a feeling so intense, Sam's hips bucked automatically as he struggled to distance himself form the agonizing contraction of his lover's muscles. His wild thrashing proved fruitless as an inhuman snarl tore from the man's throat, hollowing his cheeks in response and holding Sam's cock firmly inside his warm mouth. His protests eventually dissolved into whimpered sobs that sounded as if he were in excruciating pain, his entire body going lax as he gave in to the pleasure the man was gifting him with. His lover lifted his head up slowly before enveloping him once more, repeating the action over and over until Sam's thighs began to shake uncontrollably. Heat pooled in between his spread legs as he drew closer to completion, his impending orgasm bringing a recollection with it that came in the form of an unfamiliar name which sent shivers through every inch of his sensitive flesh. An explosion of rhythmic contractions pulsed inside of his tumescent loins as his thoughts came to the surface, spilling out of his mouth in repetitive cries of euphoric rapture. What took so long for him to comprehend settled immediately into the mind of his lover, who halted his movements just as the last of the aftershocks began to fade from his softening member.
A sound in the distance had Sam's eyes fluttering open as the sight of his admirer's face became distorted, fragmented pieces splitting apart and reframing themselves into abstract shapes of meaningless drivel. Through the haze of unintelligible visions, the sound became more pronounced, calling out his name until he had no choice but to answer.
"I'm waking up, aren't I?" he asked the mess of jumbled images before him.
As he ascended into the realm of consciousness, the last thing he heard was his lover's voice begging him to repeat the name he'd cried out in ecstatic bliss, the command obeyed when he shot up in bed with an audible gasp, the word falling from his lips like a declaration shouted into the bottomless pit of an unremitting universe.
"Dean!"
Sam fought to keep his breathing under control as his brain reprogrammed itself to the present, repeatedly blinking his confusion into the guest bedroom of Eva's beach house until recognition settled into his bewildered mind. His body relaxed and fought the unbearable urge to fall back to sleep, remorse setting in for waking up when his lover so obviously wanted him to stay within the clutches of his vivid dream.
Dean. He should have been happy that he'd finally given a name to the man who's haunted his dreams since he was thirteen, but instead he just felt…perplexed. How is it possible that one person could have countless visions of the same guy when he wasn't even real? And why did he insist on Sam calling him by that name alone? He seemed almost…joyful at Sam's revelation, like he'd been waiting for Sam to remember it for a very long time. But how can he remember something that didn't exist until his subconscious created it?
A shuffling to his right brought Sam out of his troubled thoughts, guilt pouring off of him in waves as he took in the form of his boyfriend sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, staring at Sam as if he'd just said something incredibly painful.
"Breakfast is ready," he said, getting up and disappearing down the hall before Sam could reply.
Great, he thought to himself. So much for a stress free weekend.
Thick clouds of a metaphorical storm brewed overhead as the awkward silence was filled by hushed whispers and fleeting glances, uncertainty cutting through Sam like a bloodthirsty blade. He could sense a growing void between him and Ambrose that he hated with every fiber of his being, each pained expression overtaking the other man's features sending sparks of unbearable agony coursing through the cavernous depths of his blood stained heart. Minutes ticked by at a snail's pace, dragging out the tension etched into the atmosphere like a tattoo, threatening to throw both men overboard into a sea of despair. It wasn't until nightfall reigned upon the bleary skies that Ambrose blew up in Sam's face, conveying his displeasure with frantic gestures and thunderous growls.
"What the fuck, Sam?" he screamed, knocking over a lamp on the nightstand. "What the hell else did he do to you in your dream, huh? Did he fuck you?"
Sam put his head down in shame, praying for the strength to survive what he knew would be a losing battle. "He gave me pleasure with his mouth."
The horrified look he got in return for his honesty would have been laughable had it not torn at Sam's insides like an animalistic beast intent on devouring his very soul, making every effort he'd put into extricating Dean from his mind seem inefficacious and futile. He'd tried so hard to be a good boyfriend to Ambrose, but it appeared that he was incapable of promising any kind of commitment to him as long as he still had that demon walking around inside his head, giving him pleasure he'd never known existed. But, while Dean may have been responsible for his fluctuating emotions, he still felt a deep connection to Ambrose that he couldn't just will away. The idea of losing him was a bitter pill to swallow, and Sam didn't think he'd be able to survive if the love of his life left without so much as a glance in his direction.
"Sucked you off, did he? Well, for a nineteen-year old boy who's never had an orgasm, that must have been a pretty memorable experience. I sure as hell wish I could have taken credit for bringing you that kind of ecstasy but you won't let me anywhere near your body long enough to place a kiss to your traitorous lips. Boy, am I sure glad you woke up when you did because lord knows it wouldn't have taken that asshole any time at all to stick his cock up your ass."
"It never would have went that far," Sam whispered, tears falling down his face as he stared at the ground beneath his feet.
"The hell it wouldn't have!" Ambrose roared, stalking up to Sam and grabbing him by the arms. "You have refused all of my attempts to bring you the kind of pleasure you willingly give up to a nonexistent fantasy in your dreams. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? What the hell is so wrong with me that you can't even stand to be naked in the same room with me? Am I not attractive enough for you? Do I not deliver the right amount of charm necessary to win you over? You had better make up your mind about what it is you want, Sam, because I can't do this anymore!"
Sam's eyes widened in terror at his lover's words, the threat of abandonment forcing him on his knees at Ambrose's feet. "No, please! Oh god, please don't leave me! I'm so sorry, Ambrose. You've got to believe me! I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I swear to you that if I could make it so that all my dreams evaporated in a puff of smoke, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I curse the day this all started. I love you so much! Give me another chance. If you love me, please! Please, give me another chance! I'll never sleep again, if that's what it takes. Give me a chance and I'll do whatever it takes to stop dreaming of Dean. I'll do it. I swear, I will!"
Something about Ambrose's face changed at that moment. It was subtle at first, yet translucent enough to make an impression upon the perspicacious teenager. Surprise sprinkled with a touch of anger and disgust contorted his features for the briefest of seconds before disappearing behind a mask of feigned impassiveness. Gesturing for Sam to rise from his place on the floor, he immediately pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead, wrapping him up in his arms and whispering soothing words of comfort in his eager ears. Ignoring the confusion stirring inside of him, Sam took comfort in his boyfriend's embrace, trying to block out the memory of Dean's mouth so soft and sweet between his quivering thighs.
"Okay, Sam," Ambrose replied, breaking the silence. "I'll give you another chance because I love you so much. But you have to give me something to work with, baby."
Sam gazed deeply into bright blue eyes that could charm the light right out of the moon, smiling up at the love of his life as he whispered, "I'll let you sleep naked with me tonight. Would that be a start?"
Ambrose flashed him a mischievous grin, their problems all but gone as he lifted him up and carried him to the king-sized bed in the center of the room, collapsing on top of the mattress and tickling Sam until he burst into raucous laughter.
"I think that can be arranged."
Ambrose watched as the sleeping boy beside him fluttered his eyelashes in a childlike display of impeccable innocence, soft, pink lips parting to accommodate his boyfriend's tongue as it slid inside the wet cavern greedily, gathering up the sweet taste of honey that comprised Sam's delicious saliva. He couldn't ever get enough of the boy's sleepy kisses, and being able to scoot this close to the young man without rejection was a rare gift that Ambrose took full advantage of when confronted by his lover's unconscious state.
After minutes of incomparable bliss, Ambrose reluctantly parted from his beautiful lover and made his way down the hallway to his father's study, grabbing the cell phone that rested on the mahogany desk and punching in an important number with careful precision. His face contorted into a scowl as a gruff voice picked up on the fifth ring, the sound of it never-failing to annoy the shit out of him. Blue eyes looked in the direction of the bedroom where Sam was sleeping as he conversed with the man on the other end, determination flooding through him as sharp fangs descended from his aching gums.
"Pachenka? Find someplace quiet where you can talk. I've got a problem."
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Dub-con, Violence
Summary: 200 years ago, Dean Winchester lost his brother to murder. Desperate to retrieve the only person he ever loved, he accepted the offer of a very powerful vampire and was made immortal. Now, after years of searching, he has finally found Samuel's soul once again. But trying to convince Sam to accept his offer of eternal life may prove harder than he ever thought possible.
Sam knew he was enveloped by sleep's suffocating embrace the moment he found himself far from the bed in which his body still resided, the leafless forest of his dreams filling him with a strange sense of dread. The silence of his surroundings was interrupted only by the swaying of bare branches crepitating in perfect harmony with the cold October air, each gust of wind seemingly blowing a hole right through Sam's soul. Moonlight cast an ominous glow on the path existing between the rows of trees lining the edges on either side, giving the sleeping boy just enough light to maneuver his way around the woodlands besieging him. Eventually, he came to a clearing where an open space spread the forest like a lover opening the legs of their conquest, leaving the trees to encircle its rounded form. In the middle sat a small cottage surrounded by flowers of vibrant coloration, it's very existence beautifying the eerie landscape enclosing its foundation. A light shade of brown marked the thatched roof which formed an upside down V on the top of a large wooden door, giving it a fairytale like appearance. All of that, combined with the stone path leading up to what Sam could have sworn was a shelter fit for a storybook character, was far too appeasing on the eyes to resist.
Thirty steps later and the wondering boy found himself inside his cozy abode looking around shamelessly at the interior design of his surroundings. The wooden floors creaked as Sam took a cautious walk around the living room, ceasing his movements when crackles erupted from the fireplace at the other end, red and yellow battling for dominance amidst an ocean of dancing flames. The sheepskin carpet located underneath had Sam flat on his back before he could stop himself, reveling in the feel of heated fur on his skin. He closed his eyes as relaxation blossomed around him in comforting spasms of peaceful ecstasy, his tiny whimper lost amongst the soothing sounds of the roaring fireplace. Minutes ticked by for what must have been forever, so lost was he in his own heaven that time itself didn't seem to matter anymore. It wasn't until the floor groaned in protest that Sam's eyes popped open in surprise, the realization that someone else was in the room with him forcing the weight of his upper body on his elbows to peer curiously at the sight before him.
Sam sprang up as soon as hazel clashed with deep emerald orbs that remained far too familiar for his liking, the barest hint of guilt at the arousal creeping up his spine overshadowed by longing so keen, it was a wonder his knees didn't buckle under the force of its intensity. A sigh of unbearable lust surged from the deepest recesses of his very soul, its emergence creating an invisible tether which wrapped around both men and drew them closer together in a cocoon of suppressed desire, tying one to the other for all eternity. A combination of fear and excitement injected itself into Sam's veins, instilling its life force within every inch of his very being.
"It's you again," he exclaimed breathlessly, trailing his eyes up and down the man's clothed form.
Sam's muscles tensed beneath his t-shirt as the man took a couple of steps forward, stopping dead in his tracks at the unpleasant reaction. The close proximity of their bodies forced an involuntary shiver down Sam's torso, every nerve ending he possessed burning with unquenchable need. Two sets of pupils expanded as both lovers stared the other down, electricity sparking between them like the incessant crackling of convulsing fireworks lighting up the night sky.
"Sammy," the man hissed lustily, crossing the distance between them in three long strides of purposeful movement.
The sudden heat of his lover's body had Sam gasping in surprise, foreheads pressed together as the stranger gazed deeply into his frightened eyes. Inexperienced fingers fisted the lapels of the man's long black coat in a deathlike grip, the owner of the trembling hands desperately trying to clear the hazy thoughts plaguing his bewildered mind. A brief recollection of a different face fought to take root inside of his consciousness, but the memory found itself brutally rebuffed as soft, full lips met the tip of a rounded nose, short-circuiting Sam's overworked brain and replacing the vague image of who he now knew to be Ambrose with warm breath ghosting over his skin in soothing sensations ensnaring his greedy senses.
"My sweet Samuel. My ravishing flower. Your body calls to me, my love. It aches for my touch. Can you hear it, darling?"
Sam stared at him through half-hooded eyelids, the intoxicating aroma of peaches and cream invading his nostrils the same way it'd done many times before this night, when the encompassing hallucinations plaguing his head drowned him in a sea of perpetual lust so excruciatingly potent, it was a wonder he even found the strength to wake up at all.
"Why are you haunting me?" Sam whimpered pitifully, the helplessness he felt making it hard for him to breathe.
The eyebrows of his lover drifted upwards in an expression of surprise, his face contorting in something akin to pain.
"I'm…haunting you?" he asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through all these years, Samuel? For two centuries, I've watched and waited for you. I have…ached for your soul to return to the place inside of mine where it belongs, to retrieve that which had been brutally taken from me. After all this time, my search has finally led me to my most prized possession, and I will not let you slip away, not after all the trouble I've gone through to find you."
"I…I don't understand. You're not making any sense. Can't you just go away? Why do you have to torture me so?"
The persistent man before him growled, the very sound stunning Sam into silence. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself sitting atop a table in front of the fireplace, the hips of his lovely admirer resting comfortably between his spread legs. Rough hands reached around to grab his lower back and press their bodies flush together, the evidence of the man's arousal digging into the heat of his own.
"Do you feel that, Samuel?" he asked. "Do you even have the slightest idea what you do to me? It's you who's torturing me. I can't tell you how many times I've laid in bed at night dreaming about your touch, your taste…your fuck."
His last word was uttered so quietly, and with such anguish, it took away the very breath Sam had fought so hard to hold onto. Tears fell in thin rivulets down his damp cheeks, the feel of them strange and foreign, yet somehow familiar in a way that he didn't understand. His breaths became labored with the force of his agony, the pain made all the more excruciating by the sadness he could see reflected off the deep green irises of his handsome lover.
"I want to be inside of you, Samuel," the man whispered shakily, licking away Sam's tears while ignoring his own. "Give in to me."
Sam's response was cut off by an insistent tongue sliding between his soft lips, their moans entwining together in an erotic symphony of unbearable sensuality. He barely registered the arms that lifted him off the table until he felt the soft fur of the rug beneath his aching back, gasping in lust and arching his body as both sides of his shirt was gripped by his lover's hands and pulled in opposite directions, buttons flying in the air while the material was ripped roughly from his heaving chest, exposing his skin to the warmth of the roaring fireplace. A tight suction immediately latched on to one of his pebbled nipples, the pleasurable sensation making his eyes roll back in his head as a loud exhale escaped from his trembling lips in sheer bliss. His efforts to form a single cohesive thought disintegrated immediately when his pants were pulled down around his ankles and the erect shaft pressed against the rounded curve of his belly was engulfed by a feeling so intense, Sam's hips bucked automatically as he struggled to distance himself form the agonizing contraction of his lover's muscles. His wild thrashing proved fruitless as an inhuman snarl tore from the man's throat, hollowing his cheeks in response and holding Sam's cock firmly inside his warm mouth. His protests eventually dissolved into whimpered sobs that sounded as if he were in excruciating pain, his entire body going lax as he gave in to the pleasure the man was gifting him with. His lover lifted his head up slowly before enveloping him once more, repeating the action over and over until Sam's thighs began to shake uncontrollably. Heat pooled in between his spread legs as he drew closer to completion, his impending orgasm bringing a recollection with it that came in the form of an unfamiliar name which sent shivers through every inch of his sensitive flesh. An explosion of rhythmic contractions pulsed inside of his tumescent loins as his thoughts came to the surface, spilling out of his mouth in repetitive cries of euphoric rapture. What took so long for him to comprehend settled immediately into the mind of his lover, who halted his movements just as the last of the aftershocks began to fade from his softening member.
A sound in the distance had Sam's eyes fluttering open as the sight of his admirer's face became distorted, fragmented pieces splitting apart and reframing themselves into abstract shapes of meaningless drivel. Through the haze of unintelligible visions, the sound became more pronounced, calling out his name until he had no choice but to answer.
"I'm waking up, aren't I?" he asked the mess of jumbled images before him.
As he ascended into the realm of consciousness, the last thing he heard was his lover's voice begging him to repeat the name he'd cried out in ecstatic bliss, the command obeyed when he shot up in bed with an audible gasp, the word falling from his lips like a declaration shouted into the bottomless pit of an unremitting universe.
"Dean!"
Sam fought to keep his breathing under control as his brain reprogrammed itself to the present, repeatedly blinking his confusion into the guest bedroom of Eva's beach house until recognition settled into his bewildered mind. His body relaxed and fought the unbearable urge to fall back to sleep, remorse setting in for waking up when his lover so obviously wanted him to stay within the clutches of his vivid dream.
Dean. He should have been happy that he'd finally given a name to the man who's haunted his dreams since he was thirteen, but instead he just felt…perplexed. How is it possible that one person could have countless visions of the same guy when he wasn't even real? And why did he insist on Sam calling him by that name alone? He seemed almost…joyful at Sam's revelation, like he'd been waiting for Sam to remember it for a very long time. But how can he remember something that didn't exist until his subconscious created it?
A shuffling to his right brought Sam out of his troubled thoughts, guilt pouring off of him in waves as he took in the form of his boyfriend sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, staring at Sam as if he'd just said something incredibly painful.
"Breakfast is ready," he said, getting up and disappearing down the hall before Sam could reply.
Great, he thought to himself. So much for a stress free weekend.
Thick clouds of a metaphorical storm brewed overhead as the awkward silence was filled by hushed whispers and fleeting glances, uncertainty cutting through Sam like a bloodthirsty blade. He could sense a growing void between him and Ambrose that he hated with every fiber of his being, each pained expression overtaking the other man's features sending sparks of unbearable agony coursing through the cavernous depths of his blood stained heart. Minutes ticked by at a snail's pace, dragging out the tension etched into the atmosphere like a tattoo, threatening to throw both men overboard into a sea of despair. It wasn't until nightfall reigned upon the bleary skies that Ambrose blew up in Sam's face, conveying his displeasure with frantic gestures and thunderous growls.
"What the fuck, Sam?" he screamed, knocking over a lamp on the nightstand. "What the hell else did he do to you in your dream, huh? Did he fuck you?"
Sam put his head down in shame, praying for the strength to survive what he knew would be a losing battle. "He gave me pleasure with his mouth."
The horrified look he got in return for his honesty would have been laughable had it not torn at Sam's insides like an animalistic beast intent on devouring his very soul, making every effort he'd put into extricating Dean from his mind seem inefficacious and futile. He'd tried so hard to be a good boyfriend to Ambrose, but it appeared that he was incapable of promising any kind of commitment to him as long as he still had that demon walking around inside his head, giving him pleasure he'd never known existed. But, while Dean may have been responsible for his fluctuating emotions, he still felt a deep connection to Ambrose that he couldn't just will away. The idea of losing him was a bitter pill to swallow, and Sam didn't think he'd be able to survive if the love of his life left without so much as a glance in his direction.
"Sucked you off, did he? Well, for a nineteen-year old boy who's never had an orgasm, that must have been a pretty memorable experience. I sure as hell wish I could have taken credit for bringing you that kind of ecstasy but you won't let me anywhere near your body long enough to place a kiss to your traitorous lips. Boy, am I sure glad you woke up when you did because lord knows it wouldn't have taken that asshole any time at all to stick his cock up your ass."
"It never would have went that far," Sam whispered, tears falling down his face as he stared at the ground beneath his feet.
"The hell it wouldn't have!" Ambrose roared, stalking up to Sam and grabbing him by the arms. "You have refused all of my attempts to bring you the kind of pleasure you willingly give up to a nonexistent fantasy in your dreams. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? What the hell is so wrong with me that you can't even stand to be naked in the same room with me? Am I not attractive enough for you? Do I not deliver the right amount of charm necessary to win you over? You had better make up your mind about what it is you want, Sam, because I can't do this anymore!"
Sam's eyes widened in terror at his lover's words, the threat of abandonment forcing him on his knees at Ambrose's feet. "No, please! Oh god, please don't leave me! I'm so sorry, Ambrose. You've got to believe me! I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I swear to you that if I could make it so that all my dreams evaporated in a puff of smoke, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I curse the day this all started. I love you so much! Give me another chance. If you love me, please! Please, give me another chance! I'll never sleep again, if that's what it takes. Give me a chance and I'll do whatever it takes to stop dreaming of Dean. I'll do it. I swear, I will!"
Something about Ambrose's face changed at that moment. It was subtle at first, yet translucent enough to make an impression upon the perspicacious teenager. Surprise sprinkled with a touch of anger and disgust contorted his features for the briefest of seconds before disappearing behind a mask of feigned impassiveness. Gesturing for Sam to rise from his place on the floor, he immediately pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead, wrapping him up in his arms and whispering soothing words of comfort in his eager ears. Ignoring the confusion stirring inside of him, Sam took comfort in his boyfriend's embrace, trying to block out the memory of Dean's mouth so soft and sweet between his quivering thighs.
"Okay, Sam," Ambrose replied, breaking the silence. "I'll give you another chance because I love you so much. But you have to give me something to work with, baby."
Sam gazed deeply into bright blue eyes that could charm the light right out of the moon, smiling up at the love of his life as he whispered, "I'll let you sleep naked with me tonight. Would that be a start?"
Ambrose flashed him a mischievous grin, their problems all but gone as he lifted him up and carried him to the king-sized bed in the center of the room, collapsing on top of the mattress and tickling Sam until he burst into raucous laughter.
"I think that can be arranged."
Ambrose watched as the sleeping boy beside him fluttered his eyelashes in a childlike display of impeccable innocence, soft, pink lips parting to accommodate his boyfriend's tongue as it slid inside the wet cavern greedily, gathering up the sweet taste of honey that comprised Sam's delicious saliva. He couldn't ever get enough of the boy's sleepy kisses, and being able to scoot this close to the young man without rejection was a rare gift that Ambrose took full advantage of when confronted by his lover's unconscious state.
After minutes of incomparable bliss, Ambrose reluctantly parted from his beautiful lover and made his way down the hallway to his father's study, grabbing the cell phone that rested on the mahogany desk and punching in an important number with careful precision. His face contorted into a scowl as a gruff voice picked up on the fifth ring, the sound of it never-failing to annoy the shit out of him. Blue eyes looked in the direction of the bedroom where Sam was sleeping as he conversed with the man on the other end, determination flooding through him as sharp fangs descended from his aching gums.
"Pachenka? Find someplace quiet where you can talk. I've got a problem."