After the End - Chapter 3

[amypond45]

Sam wakes up in a cold sweat.

He's in his bed, has obviously been sleeping, which in and of itself is unusual since he can't remember the last time he had a good night's sleep in a bed.

Then he realizes he's naked and the whole crazy mess comes crashing down.

Dean's a demon. He's alive but transformed into the very thing they've always hated and hunted.

And he and Sam just had sex. With each other.

Sam has a vivid flashback of the last time he had sex with a demon, and how well that ended. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair, then hunches over with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"Sam."

Sam lurches off the bed, grabbing the gun wedged under his pillow and crouches defensively behind the bed, gun trained on the familiar shape in the corner of the room.

"Damn it, Cas," he reproaches the angel as he lowers the gun. "You know better. Do you wanna get shot?"

"I must speak with you," Castiel says as if that excuses his sudden appearance in Sam's bedroom in the middle of the night.

"Yeah, well, knock first next time," Sam grouches, slipping the gun back in place and grabbing his sweatpants off the floor. So that's where they went, he thinks absently as he pulls them on. "What's up?"

Castiel sniffs the air, which makes Sam blush because the room smells of sex and sulfur and it's not okay for Castiel to make a comment about that.

But of course he does anyway.

"You have had sex with a demon," Castiel notes. "Again."

Sam raises his arms, palms up.

"And how is that any business of yours?" he demands defensively.

Castiel stares at him with that inscrutable blue gaze of his and Sam frowns, trying to pull off offended, but of course in this situation he doesn't exactly have the moral upper hand.

"Your brother is a demon now, Sam," Castiel says darkly. "He cannot be trusted."

"What -- wait -- you knew?" Sam's outraged. "You knew this had happened to Dean and you didn't tell me?"

"I thought it would be best if you didn't know," Castiel says with infuriating calm. "I did not expect Dean to come back here."

"He's my brother, Cas." Sam's incredulous as well as outraged now. "How can you not tell me he's become a demon?"

He's got his hands on his hips now, glaring accusingly at Cas as he adds, "Where the hell have you been, by the way? And how the hell are you? Here I've been thinking you were dead too. Thought your borrowed grace was burning you out."

Castiel shakes his head. "My grace was restored when Metatron reversed the spell that closed Heaven," he explains. "I have been busy helping the angels rebuild their celestial home."

He softens his voice a little, winces as he adds, "I'm sorry I let you believe I had died, Sam. I'm sure it was painful for you to assume you were all alone in the world."

"Jesus, Cas, y'think?" Sam's still angry, shifts his stance and scrubs a hand over his face. "So Metatron's still alive."

Castiel nods. "He's locked up in Heaven, in the same cell where Gadreel spent eternity. Now Metatron faces the same fate for his crimes against his brothers and sisters. And for killing Dean."

"Yeah, well you better hope he stays there," Sam says darkly. "'Cause there's a price on his head, as far as I'm concerned, for what he did to Dean."

Castiel nods again. "Understood, Sam. It wasn't easy, letting him live, I can assure you. But you do realize that it wasn't Dean's death that triggered his transformation."

"Yeah, I get it," Sam runs a hand through his hair. "It's the Mark. Crowley needs to pay for getting Dean into this. Now I just have to figure out how to get him out of it."

"You do realize you have the cure flowing through your veins, Sam," Castiel reminds him. "If we work together, perhaps we can capture Dean, inject him with your blood -- "

"Hey guys," Dean's suddenly in the room, next to Sam, showered and dressed again in that incredible black tee-shirt and jeans.

Sam feels like a scraggly, unwashed dog next to his brother's perfection, and he's glad Dean doesn't try to touch him, stands just close enough so Sam can feel his heat.

"What's up?" Dean looks guilelessly from Sam to Castiel, but it's obvious he heard them talking, and Sam feels his face fall, can't look Dean in the eye.

Castiel's having the same problem. He can't seem to look at Dean at all, which suggests that he can see Dean's demon face, which is so so weird for Sam, and he feels another wave of shame and humiliation as he gets yet one more confirmation of what's happened to Dean.

Because it doesn't change the way he feels about Dean. Maybe even makes him want Dean more.

Fuck.

"You're not trying to drive a wedge between me and Sam, are you, Cas?" Dean asks pointedly. "Cause I can tell you right now that ain't gonna work."

"He's just trying to help, Dean," Sam says. "We both just want to fix you."

"And what if I don't need fixin'?" Dean challenges. "What if I'm just fine the way I am?"

"You don't mean that," Castiel says. "The man I dragged out of Hell all those years ago would never accept this."

"Well let's just say I'm not that guy anymore," Dean says. "I've changed. No, before this happened, I really changed. I'm not some bitch for you and Michael and Lucifer and all your pals in Heaven to fuck around with anymore. And you know that. You and I spent a year in Purgatory together. Remember that? Huh? Pure survival. Pure killing for the sake of survival. How many of those things did we gank, Cas? Huh? A thousand? At least ten, maybe fifteen every single goddamn day. So you and me -- we have a history, and you know I'm not that guy you pulled out of Hell. You know that."

Dean's paced around the end of the bed, pointing his hand at Castiel to make his point, and Castiel glances at him, winces and looks away.

"You're not just a killer, Dean," Castiel protests lamely, and Dean huffs out a breath.

"Well, I sure as hell ain't your good little soldier anymore either," he spits out. "I don't have to answer to nobody."

Castiel lifts his eyes then, looks surprised. "Crowley -- " he starts, and Dean cuts him off.

"Crowley is not my boss." Dean's disgust at the idea is palpable.

"So who -- " Castiel's face registers shock and fear. "Not Lucifer," he breathes.

Dean's face gets very dark then, and Sam imagines his eyes turning black with hate, but they don't. His pupils expand though, making his eyes look almost black anyway.

"I will never serve that son-of-a-bitch," Dean growls menacingly. "He will sit in that cage and rot till the end of time for what he did to my brother, and if I could I would get in there with him just so I could show him a few things about vengeance the Winchester Way, 'cause he ain't seen torture till he sees what I can do these days."

Shivers of fear run up Sam's spine at Dean's words, and he's instantly hard as a rock.

Fuck.

"Sam," Castiel's trying to get his attention, ignoring Dean. "Don't eat anything he gives you," he says. "It could be laced with demon blood."

Sam blinks, gazes into Castiel's blue eyes as his own widen with shock, sees Castiel's face fall.

"Oh, Sam," he whispers. "You didn't."

"I think you should go, Cas," Dean says. "My brother and I have work to do."

He takes a step toward Castiel, and the angel glances at him, then over his shoulder at Sam.

"Be careful, Sam," he warns, and then he's gone.

 

* *

For a moment Sam can't move, can't even think.

He ate the burger, drank the beer. Threw up, yeah, but then he ate the soup --

Fuck.

"Earth to Sam." Dean's right in front of him, vivid green eyes gazing up at him, guileless and wide open. "Hey, buddy. It's okay. I'm not trying to poison you. Why would I do that? You're my little brother. It's my job to keep you safe, remember?"

"I don't know, Dean," Sam says hesitantly. "You're a demon now. How can I trust anything you say? Demons lie."

"Well, for starters, I let you fuck me last night," Dean says. "I'd say that takes some trust, wouldn't you?"

Dean takes the last step into Sam's space, and Dean smooths his hands over Sam's chest, watching the muscles tense under his touch, and Sam takes a shuddering breath, unable to control his body's responses.

"You gonna let me return the favor, Sam?" Dean murmurs, looking up again, letting his gaze linger on Sam's mouth. "Gonna let me fuck you?"

That's it. Sam's so done. He closes his eyes in a last ditch effort at sanity, hearing the depraved moan slipping out of him as he feels Dean's body press into his, then his hands are cupping Sam's face, pulling him down so Dean can reach his lips, and Sam's just lost, damned all to hell because he's letting Dean do this to him, just kiss him slow and deep so that Sam's whole body turns to molten fire and he's just melting into Dean, he's putty in Dean's hands, hot, swollen, helpless, fucked.

This time when Dean lays him out, kisses down his body and finally takes Sam's dick in his mouth -- and Sam could watch Dean's mouth around his dick for-fucking-ever -- this time he knows he's giving in, he knows Dean can just do this to him any time and every time, because it's dirty and dangerous and so so hot and he wants it. He wants it all. Wants Dean's mouth on him everywhere, wants his tongue lapping at his balls and licking him open, tasting himself because of course Sam hasn't showered since last night and Dean is eating him out like there's no tomorrow and the look on his face -- like he's in some kind of personal paradise where there's only Sam and Sam's ass and Sam's dick -- so fucking beautiful Sam starts to sob silently, long wracking heaves and tears running down his face and suddenly Dean's there, his face hovering over Sam's, eyes lust-blown and cheeks flushed.

"Shhh, Sam, hey, it's okay," he murmurs, "I'll stop. If you don't want me to, I'll stop."

"No," Sam sobs, clasping Dean's face in his hands, trying to focus through the blur of his tears. "No, don't stop. I want you to. I want you. I'm just -- it's just a little overwhelming, is all. I never thought I'd ever have this. I never -- fuck, I'm sorry, Dean. I'm such a baby."

"Fuckin' big baby, is what," Dean agrees with a lewd grin, leaning down to capture Sam's mouth again, kissing the tears from his cheeks with surprising tenderness, simultaneously reaching his hand down between Sam's legs, finding his hole, messaging and probing with lubed fingers until Sam feels himself opening, letting Dean's fingers inside, filling him as he gasps.

"Okay, Sam?" Dean's murmuring as he inserts another finger. "You still with me?"

Sam takes a shaky breath, nods.

"Yeah, it's good," he gasps as Dean starts moving his fingers, pumping in and out, stretching.

Sam arches his back, pushes down on Dean's hand, closes his eyes so he can just feel the strange sensation. Dean's mouth is on his neck, licking and nibbling, and he visualizes Dean's lips, then opens his eyes again so he can watch as Dean kisses down his chest and belly, takes hold of his dick and slips the head between his lips and Sam almost comes right there, has to squeeze his eyes shut again to block out the sight, tensing every muscle in his body.

Dean smiles against his mouthful of Sam, lets his dick go for a minute so he can speak.

"Go ahead, Sam, give it to me," he says, looking up at Sam with such pure lust in his eyes they're almost black again.

Then Dean's mouth is back on his dick and he's hollowing his cheeks and sucking and oh shit! Sam's just letting go in Dean's mouth and Dean's swallowing and it's fuckin' unbelievable, man, just --

Sam whites out for a minute as he pumps out his orgasm, and when he comes to Dean's still pumping his ass with his fingers and swallowing the last of his aftershocks. Sam's never felt so taken care of, and in his sleepy, post-orgasmic haze he's only vaguely aware that Dean's lubing himself, positioning himself between Sam's legs, pushing his legs apart and back so he can push the head of his dick against Sam's hole.

"Okay? Sam? You okay with this?" Dean's looking up the length of Sam's body. and Sam looks down, locks gazes with his brother, nods.

"Yeah," he hears himself say, voice sounding groggy to his own ears. "Go for it."

Dean makes a short thrust and he's in, which gets Sam's attention because it hurts, or maybe it's just weird, maybe that's not pain he feels, but --

Dean pushes and suddenly Sam's mind is flooded with unwanted memories -- this happened in Hell -- Lucifer did this to him, so many times he can't count, doesn't want to count, doesn't want to remember --

His whole body tenses, he's going into shock, he's gonna start fighting it --

Then Dean's face is there, right there above him, murmuring.

"Hey, Sammy, hey, it's me, I'm not him, it's okay," he's pulled out, he's just messaging Sam's hole again, starting over.

And Sam nods, takes another breath.

"I'm okay," he insists. "I can do this. I need to do this. Want it to be you."

Dean kisses him, smiles reassuringly, starts again.

And Dean's patient, persistent, hangs in there and takes it slow, so when he finally eases all the way in Sam's okay, he's not freaking out, he's not seeing Lucifer (who of course knew exactly who Sam really wanted to fuck so he would make himself look like Dean when he raped him) and the look on Dean's face when he's completely bottomed out inside Sam's body is so beautiful Sam starts crying again, huge silent tears rolling down his cheeks so Dean starts murmuring "baby, baby, fuckin' baby, my little baby brother" to him as he fucks, slow and careful at first, then more urgently as he hits Sam's prostate and Sam's whole body rocks with the most amazing electric shock he's ever felt and damn he wants more of that.

So Dean gives it to him, over and over until he can't see straight, can't think straight, is vaguely aware of himself making all kinds of guttural noises he can't control -- is vaguely aware of Dean's face hovering over his, watching him fall apart, dick hard and sensitive and Dean's got his hand wrapped around it and then it's all over and he's punching out Dean's name in a long loud yell that echoes in the room as he comes, harder and longer than he's ever come, and Dean tenses suddenly and just before he blacks out Sam's aware of Dean's dick twitching and pumping in his ass as he comes.

As he starts to come around, Sam's thinking he forgot to look to see if Dean's eyes turned black again, if that's something that happens every time he comes.

Time for that, he tells himself. Lots of time for that.

And as he's drifting off, sleep overwhelming him even as he feels Dean pulling out, getting up, coming back with a warm damp cloth to wash him off, letting himself be pulled down on the bed so Sam can spoon him, wrap himself around his brother and nose at the back of his neck as he settles -- Sam's last conscious thought as he's breathing Dean's scent, pulling him closer against his chest, Sam's arms held against Dean's chest possessively --

My lover is a demon and it's perfect.

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