Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ BloodLust ❯ Arriving in New York ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, any of its characters or affiliates. Furthermore, I do not own "the actor" used in this fiction.
Pairing(s): Dean/Sam, Dean/Sam/"The Actor", OC/Dean
Warning(s): Wincest, Slash, Anal, Oral, BDSM, 3+some, Cross-dressing, biting, blood-sucking, Angst, graphic violence and sex scenes, cussing, M/M, M/M/M. And I think that's it..
Note: There are less warnings for the FanFiction edit and it won't be as explicit.

To say that I like my job is a total inaccuracy. Sometimes, yeah, it's not so bad. It's the other times that I despise. The only reason I do my job every day is because there's no one else to do it, save my younger brother and I. Our father taught us everything we know and have thus prepared us for this life of mainly solitude and servitude to a country that doesn't even know we exist. We travel to both remote and crowded cities, fighting such beings as ghosts, spirits, demons, boogeymen, vampire, werewolves, wendigos and other such sprites of the supernatural.

Us Winchester boys are an odd pair, that's for sure. There's gear and disguises stuffed in the trunk of my Chevy Impala that could get us both incarcerated for more than a few years if we should ever get caught. In our line of work, we have to lie and trick hundreds of people so they don't find out our real names, where we come from and other personal information like that.

Tonight, I am driving the Chevy and Sammy is asleep in the passenger's seat next to me. Every now and then I glance over to see if he's alright. He didn't move nor make a sound as I pulled up to the front office of a Howard Johnson motel.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Dean called after parking the car out front and striding into the little office.

A young man, who looked to be about twenty, appeared from behind the counter. When he spoke, it was in a rather bored monotone.

"Yes? How can I help you?" The name tag of this man read 'Adrew'. Dean tilted his head as he looked at the tag, certain that there was a misprint. His eyes moved over the man's body in a quick scan. Blond hair and startling yet beautiful blue-gray eyes. "Sir, how can I help you?" The man asked again, cutting into Dean's thoughts.

"Uh, I just need a room for two." The blond's eyes lingered on Dean's left hand, checking for a ring, although the Winchester didn't notice. "Oh, and one bed's fine!" He called after the blond as he went to get the registration papers. Leaning on the counter, Dean flashed the man a smile as the papers were filled out (with aliases) and exchanged for a key with the number '13' on it.

"So, Adrew--"

"It's Andrew." Came the snobby reply.

"So, Andrew. The room's on the first floor, right?" Dean asked. Andrew just looked at him, his blue-gray eyes hinting that he was getting annoyed.

"Yeah."

With a mumbled 'thanks' and a small smile, Dean left the little office and got back in the car, only to drive a few feet until he put the car in 'park' right in front of the door. He killed the engine and popped the trunk before turning to Sam.

"Sammy, come on. Open those peepers, we're here." Dean whispered, leaning over to shake Sam's shoulder gently. The younger brother made a noise of protest and turned away from Dean.

With a very audible sigh, Dean got out of the car and walked around to Sam's door. He tapped on the glass of the window smartly with two fingers, then his fist as if he was knocking. Sam didn't move, either because he had fallen back to sleep or he just didn't want to. Deciding to take drastic measures, the older brother yanked the door open fast. A startled yell filled the air and, if Dean hadn't caught him, Sam almost fell.

"You fucking dickhead, Dean!" Sam shouted in anger as he righted himself, still cursing as Dean helped, laughing. Finally out of the car, he pushed past his brother with a scowl on his face. Still chuckling to himself, Dean tossed Sam one of their bags and opened the door to their room. He thought it odd that he was given an actual key, instead of a computerized one.

The motel room itself was modest, the first glance suggesting it was small yet cozy at the same time. The first thing that Sam noticed was that there was only one bed. He decided not to mention it to his bone-headed brother. Crossing the threshold, Sam dropped the suitcase on the floor and collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, draping his arm over his eyes in a gesture of fatigue while his shorter-yet-older brother began to unpack.

Wonder what's giving him energy, Sam thought, kicking his shoes off and stretching out on the bed, turning to lay on his stomach. Once done (or halfway done) unpacking, Dean let himself fall next to his brother with a soft thump. He lay on his side and seemed to gaze at Sam intently. Feeling the piercing stare of his green-eyed brother, Sam just laid there, waiting for the other to say something.

"Sammy," whispered Dean, breaking the still silence. Sam kept his eyes closed and didn't answer.

"Sammy..." Dean repeated, shaking Sam by the shoulder again.

"What?" Came the muffled reply in a grouchy tone. Dean seemed to be a bit put down at first but he just shook it off and gave his brother one of his best grins (which went unnoticed) while nudging his shoulder.

"Come on, Sam. When are we ever alone together?" He asked, crawling over until he was almost on top of his brother, running a hand up and down his back. When he felt the touch, Sam lifted his head and looked at Dean wearily.

"We're always alone, Dean. It comes with the job," was his answer, his voice filled with both bitterness and contempt in his grumpy, tired state. The grin faded at Sam's words and Dean took his hand off the other's back, a scowl forming on his face. There was a few seconds of sulking silence before Dean decided to break it again.

"Sam.." He let his voice trail off as he waited for an answer. Sam raised himself onto his elbows and arched a brow as he looked at Dean as if to say, 'What now?'

"Sammy.." He whispered, sounding almost like he was pleading while at the same time, apologetic. Hearing how pathetic his brother sounded, Sam felt guilty for his attitude.

"Look Dean, I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired, you know?" He said with a sigh. As if to apologize further, Sam dropped his gaze and cozied up in Dean's arms, resting his cheek against his chest.

"Yeah, I know Sammy," he sighed too, tightening his arms around Sam in an almost protective yet possessive manner. "I know."

One of Dean's hands reached up to idly stroke through Sam's silky hair, the scent of the shampoo filling Dean's nostrils and reminding him thoroughly of his little brother. As they lay together, he could swear he felt Sam's breathing grow slower, deeper and more even. He held his sleeping brother and tried to fall into a slumber as well.

Wow. He must have been exhausted to have been that bitchy, he thought with a wry grin. The older Winchester pulled the blankets over both their bodies and decided that they had a whole week to worry about fighting any bad guys. After all, that's when the moon would be full.

Might as well not worry until then.

A couple of floors up and a half an hour later, the actor was jolted awake as he let out a scream into the darkness. Sweat covered his body and he panted as if he had just run the marathon. With a glance at the clock and a groan of annoyance, he realized it was already after twelve. He should have been up hours ago.

The male sat up and rubbed his head, the dream already fading fast as he tried his hardest to remember it. The thing-that-had-chased-him had had fangs, that he was sure of. The rest of the details eluded him, save one. He knew the thing was supernatural, much like himself. As he stood and stretched to welcome the night, the nightmare was already gone from his mind.

The room was pitch black like the night sky of the city as the actor roamed around it, taking a shower and getting dressed. His clothes were black, which made his pale skin stick out more. Without the lights on, he checked his reflection in the mirror and headed out the door. As he walked down the carpeted hallway, his footfalls made no noise at all.

The wake-up call came at 5:30 in the morning although neither Winchester had asked for it and both hated waking to the sound of a ringing phone.

"Hello?" Dean answered, his voice thick and heavy with sleep. A smooth, feminine automated message played after a short pause.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith, this is your requested wake-up call. It is 5:30 AM on Tuesday, April fourth--" A sharp click signaled the hanging up of the phone. Dean let his eyes close again as he lay against the pillows, thoroughly annoyed because he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep. Sam was already off the bed and making coffee in the small coffee maker that came with the room.

"Up and at 'em, Dean," Sam called as he went into the bathroom, turning on the water to the tub and then he took his shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked back into the room. At the side of the bed he stood, shaking his brother.

"Come on, bro. Get up," he said, tossing the shirt onto Dean's unmoving form.

"I'm up, I'm up!" Dean called from under the shirt, quickly standing and stretching as Sam went to check on the coffee. While his back was turned, Dean smirked, taking on a predatory stance that went unnoticed by Sam.

"Hey, Sammy?" He called in a sing-song voice, causing the younger male to turn to him. At first, Sam thought his brother was angry with him but that notion flew out of his head when he saw the smirk on Dean's face. Alas, he saw the devious smile a second too late as Dean bowed his head and tackled Sam around the middle.

With muffled "oofs" both brothers fell into a heap on the floor. In a quick tussle, Sam soon found himself pinned with his arms behind his back and his face pressed against the carpet. He struggled feebly and huffed in an exasperated way.

"Let go," he commanded, still trying to worm his way out of Dean's vicegrip. His shoulders began to ache as he moved and his face itched from the damned carpet. Sam yelped as Dean roughly pulled him off the ground and released him. Standing there with a smug grin, Dean offered Sam a hand. The little brother accepted the help to stand as he was heaved to his feet, his skin flushed from the sudden exertion.

When Dean blinked, Sam shoved him hard in the chest and bolted for the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Sam's heart pounded in his ears as he stood with his back against the door. It was a few seconds before he realized that the door was also pounding, or rather, Dean was from the other side.

"Open up Sammy! It was just a joke!" He continued to rattle the door handle and pound on the wood until the other finally gave in, opening the door just a crack.

"What the fuck do you want?" He asked in a furious voice laced with an attitude that made Dean want to punch him yet pin him down and fuck his brains out right there until he couldn't walk for a week. The door was pushed open quite violently as the shorter male barged his way into the room and backed Sam against the wall without even touching him.

"Dean.." Sam muttered, a hint of a warning in his voice. Dean, however, was not listening. He reached out and grabbed each of Sam's wrists, and, with very little resistance, pulled the taller male into his embrace, kissing him roughly, hungrily.

Sam was a little speechless at first and a bit stunned but then he just melted against Dean, savoring the warmth of his arms and the sweet yet almost bitter taste that was Dean's mouth. When Dean finally pulled away to take a breath, Sam didn't let him lean in for another round.

"What is it?" Dean asked, trying to pull Sam out of the bathroom.

"Deeaan. I have to take a shower." When Dean continued to look at him with puppy dog eyes, Sam hung his head in defeat. "Alright, fine. At least let me turn the water off," he finally said, turning once more to lean over the tub, shutting off the stream of water with a few squeaks from the knob.

As Sam was leaning over the turb, Dean felt, decidedly, just a wee bit wicked.

Sam let out a startled gasp as, simultaneously, a sharp smack filled the air and his right ass cheek began to sting. He turned around to look at Dean incredulously. The older brother, however, had a shit-eating grin from ear to ear that made Sam's face flame.

"Did I make a mark?" Dean asked mischieviously as he went for Sam's boxers, pulling them down before Sam could protest against the action.

"Oh, look Sammy! Your ass is as red as your face," he commented, the grin seemingly glued to his face and with a devious look that Sam knew he couldn't escape. Sam gulped, rubbed his abused buttock and stared at Dean, allowing a small smile to grace his features.

A mere minute later found the brothers back on the bed, although both had lost what little clothing had remained and now their tongues battled for dominance even if they both knew who would win. Kneeling naked on the bed, the Winchesters continued their battle and eventually, Sam broke for air first. Smirking, Dean claimed victory by pushing his little brother so that he fell and landed on his back beneath him.

Dean wasted no time at all as he pressed their bodies together and rubbed his erection against Sam's. A little ironically, Dean's penis was just like the man himself, thick and long, although it was slightly shorter than his brother's while Sam's was longer yet not as thick even though both had decent lengths.

Their lips locked once more as Dean ran a hand down Sam's muslced chest and abs, reaching its destination and wrapping around Sam's shaft. Sam arched into the touch, one leg raising to rest on Dean's shoulder, causing him to chuckle.

"A bit eager, Sammy?" Inquired an equally excited Dean with a Cheshire grin. A grunt was the only response as Dean worked his thumb around the head of Sam's cock, rubbing his thumb across the slit at the top, eliciting a moan from the taller-yet-younger male. The moan turned into a disappointed whimper as the hand withdrew from Sam's throbbing arousal. An even louder whimper issued from Sam's mouth when Dean pulled away and stood up, going to kneel and look in the suitcases.

"Where's the lube?" He asked, tossing the contents that were left inside the bags here and there, rummaging like a naked maniac. Sam didn't answer the question right away, instead, he had followed Dean and was now standing behind him.

"Forget it, Dean. It's in the car." As soon as Sam said it, Dean remembered how it had gotten there.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath as he stood and leaned against Sam, who wrapped his arms around his big brother, kissing his neck and rubbing against him from behind. Sam was able to drag Dean back to the soft bed with little effort. Dean climbed on top of Sam and sucked his earlobe, gently nibbling at the flesh.

"It's gonna be rough, Sammy," he said in a husky whisper, grinding their hips together again, both males inhaling sharply at the friction that felt so good.

"Wait, Dean," Sam whispered, pushing Dean onto his back with more strength than he had intended. With a muttered 'sorry', Sam told Dean not to move. He bit back the protest and remained silent, watching to see what his brother wanted to do. Sam was leaving a trail of soft kisses down his chest, pausing to lick at Dean's left nipple, gently sucking it before continuing on the way down.

Dean closed his eyes in anticipation and a sharp smack on his chest made them open again. Sam gave Dean a look that said 'You look away and you're dead.' So Dean watched as Sam's tongue darted out to lick his cock in a long, lazy way, causing Dean to shiver in delight. Sam then wrapped his lips around the hardened, heated flesh and sucked hard, at the same time using his tongue to massage the throbbing member, licking up and down.

"Oh, Sammy.." Dean uttered, reaching his hands down to tangle into Sam's dark brown strands.

For the whole thing, Dean didn't blink. It took all his willpower not to thrust into the heat of Sam's mouth. He tried not to look too disappointed when that mouth left his dick to kiss his lips. He gladly opened his mouth when Sam shoved his tongue in and then, holding Sam to him, he flipped their positions so Sam was no longer on top of him.

Dean's hands grabbed his brother's thighs in a firm grip and he forced them wide open yet they didn't need that much coaxing to begin with. Sam's eyes roamed the scultped body above him and he reached for himself but Dean stopped him. Sam could feel the saliva-slicked shaft prodding his asshole and his breathing sped up in excitement.

The older Winchester's breathing was faring no better as he looked at the lithe body beneath him. Sam's hair was askew, his chocolate eyes glazed over in lust, his legs open and inviting while his cock was seeping fluid in its feverish pleasure, standing at attention, begging to be touched and stroked.

Dean could wait no longer and he drove into Sam deep and fast with a low moan as Sam gasped at the familiar pain, knowing it would soon fade for the spit had eased the penetration better than a dry fuck. Before the pain could fully fade, Dean had pulled back and thrust back in harder two more times. The discomfort almost gone, Sam was getting impatient with how slow his brother was going.

"Fuck me already, Dean," Sam whispered, his hands clutching onto Dean's shoulders as he pushed his ass against the intruding dick, wrapping his long legs around Dean's waist, impatient. With one of his trademark smirks, Dean happily complied. He began to pound into his little brother's tight ass, going harder and harder, faster, deeper, hitting Sam's sweet spot with every single slam forward. Sam became increasingly vocal and he grew louder as Dean shifted position slightly, allowing him to hit Sam's prostrate with more strength, more force.

"Ahh, FUCK! YES! Dean! Harder!" Sam cried out, his fingernails digging into his brother's back. Dean's brow was damp with sweat as he increased the force, going only slightly slower so he could go as hard and as deep as he could.

Suddenly, Sam yelled out as his arousal let loose a stream of white fluid and he felt tingles up and down his spine. Dean didn't stop though and wrapped a hand around the wet, still hard sex with a firm grip, jerking his brother in time to the fast pace, the hard rhythm. Dean felt like his skin was on fire and he let out a loud groan as the wave of passion washed over him and he released into his brother's tight heat.

He was so lost in ecstasy he vaguely noticed that Sam had come a split second before and splattered both their chests with the hot fluid. He rode out his orgasm by thrusting two more times, much much slower than before.

He pulled out slowly, watching the liquid seep from his brother's hole which almost made him hard again but he looked away and focused on Sam, who seemed to be stunned silent or rather, he looked dazed and he seemed to be forgetting to breathe.

Am I that good? Dean's pride thought. Sam broke the stunned silence in a voice that sounded amazed.

"I think that I..orgasmed..twice." Sam muttered, mouthing the word before the last rather than saying it. Pulling his kid brother to him, Dean smiled in a tired way.

"Sammy, you're gay and you don't even know that you can orgasm by prostrate stimulation?" The question was rhetorical but it made Sam blush all the same making his face redder than a sunburnt lobster.

Dean smiled at Sam and embraced him, bringing them even closer together. Sam snuggled against the warm chest and he could hear the strong thump-thump-thump of his brother's heart beating within while Dean could feel the soft flutter of Sam's eyelashes as he blinked.

"Sammy," Dean whispered, gently shaking the younger Winchester. "Come on, lots of work to do today," he urged, his voice a little louder.

Samuel Winchester groaned loudly and sat up even though he wanted to go back to bed, thanks to his bone-headed, stubborn and horny lover. He stretched and swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and stood, walking to the bathroom to finish the shower he never started. Of course, Dean joined a couple of minutes later.