Crimson

[grianchloch]

Title: Crimson
Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word count:
Beta: seleneheart
Warnings: Violent sex, blood drinking, spoilers for Live Free or Twihard.
Notes: AU for season six. Sam came back different, but not soul-less. Set at the end of Live Free or Twihard. Written for loverstar as part of the annual sammessiah Antichristmas fic exchange.
Summary: Samuel leaves Sam alone to make sure Dean takes the cure, only Sam has other plans for his vampire brother.



“Sam?” Samuel stopped in the doorway. “Are you sure you can go through with it if the cure doesn’t work?”

“I’m sure.” Sam stared back at Samuel, his eyes devoid of emotion.

“He’s your brother.” The hair on the back of Samuel’s neck prickled as he looked at his grandson. The feeling that something was wrong with Sam had never been stronger, and frankly, he couldn’t wait to be miles away from him. He glanced at Dean, who was standing with his back to them, his shoulders square, the tension in them plain.

“Go.” Dean growled.

Samuel took a breath, as if to say something, but what was there to say? Be careful? Make it clean? He nodded at Sam, then walked away, leaving his grandsons to their fate.

Sam closed the door behind him. Dean could hear every movement he made. The whisper of fabric sliding over skin as he moved, each breath moving in and out of his body, and a strong heartbeat that Dean couldn’t ignore. He could hear every contraction of the muscle that sat in Sam’s chest, every pump of blood around his body, thick and delicious.

“So now what? You stand over me to make sure the cure’s worked? Take my head off if it doesn’t?”

“No.” Sam unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders.

Dean spun round to stare at him, confused and curious.

“I'll give you an alternative.” The small blade flashed as Sam drew it over the meat of his chest, just above his right nipple. He cut just deep enough to encourage the blood to well to the surface.

“Sammy.” Dan growled and stumbled backwards. The smell of it filled his nostrils, the copper tang obscenely compelling.

Sam followed him.

“You feel strong now, don’t you? Stronger than you did as a human? Your senses are heightened, right?”

“Understatement.” Dean panted, trying to ignore the clawing hunger that pounded through his veins.

“Wouldn’t you be a better hunter if you kept them? Think how much more efficient you’d be …”

“Like Gordon?” Dean spat. “I’d rather take myself out with razor wire.” He glared at Sam, but his gazed dropped to the blood beginning to drip down his chest, and he swallowed nervously.

“One taste, Dean, and it’ll seal the deal.”

Dean blanched at Sam’s choice of words. “Deal? One taste and I stay a monster. Is that what you want? A brother who’ll be a danger to everyone? A killer?”

“You’ll never need to kill.” Sam stretched his arms out to the side, opening the wound further. He smiled as Dean whimpered and backed into the wall behind him. “You’ll have everything you need right here, whenever you want it.”

“No, Sam, damn it!” Dean slammed his hands against Sam’s shoulders. Given how much being turned had increased his strength, Sam should have ended up halfway across the room on his ass, but he staggered back one step, quickly recovering to crowd back into Dean’s space.

“I’m not the same as I was before I fell into the pit.” The smirk grew on his face.

“I guessed as much.” Dean gasped out as Sam pinned him to the wall, taking hold of his chin and rubbing his thumb over his mouth.

Dean snarled and wrenched his head away, but his new instincts kicked in. Fangs split through his gums, elongating as the need, the craving, screamed through every cell in his body. Slowly, he turned his head back, the vampire in him overpowering reason. He looked at Sam, knowing he wouldn’t see what he was looking for, not now, but praying to a God he’d never believed in that Sam would come to his senses and help him resist. “Sammy, please. Not this …”

There was triumph on Sam’s face as he tilted his body towards Dean. He watched his brother’s face contort into something akin to pain as he tried desperately to resist, but Dean was too far gone, the scent of the blood too intoxicating.

Dean’s fangs tore into Sam’s chest, lacerating the skin in an effort to draw out as much blood as he could. He swallowed greedily, gulping down mouthfuls, and surging against Sam, turning them and pressing him against the wall, pinning him with one arm across his neck as he feasted.

Sam let him take control for a moment longer, then threaded his fingers into Dean’s short hair and pulled him back. Dean snarled, unwilling to stop, needing more. Now he’d tasted blood, he understood what had driven all the vamps he’d killed.

Dean grabbed Sam’s hips, pulling them forward in an attempt to get closer any way he could. He shuddered when Sam went with it and bucked against him, pushing the hard length of his erection against Dean’s. Dean raised his eyes to meet Sam’s as he ground against him. Sam let go of his hair, and Dean crushed him against the wall, fangs receding, bloodied mouth slamming against Sam’s welcoming one.

Sam kissed him back, tasting the metal of his own blood on his brother’s lips. Dean’s hands worked frantically to unfasten Sam’s jeans, but the lust and heat made his fingers clumsy and he growled with frustration.

Sam smiled, even as Dean nipped at his lips, lapping at the beads of blood that welled as the soft skin broke. His own deft fingers worked quickly, unfastening his jeans and then Dean’s pushing them down over their hips. Dean arched his back as Sam cupped his balls and firmly stroked his dick, sliding down the wall, nuzzling Dean’s groin as he undid his boots and urged him to toe them off so he could tug off his jeans.

Sam ran his hands over Dean’s muscled legs, licking the hard cock that bobbed in front of his face, working his way up until he could slip the head between his lips and suck hard enough to make Dean groan. Dean slid down the wall, his knees hitting the floor on either side of Sam’s hips. There’d been a time when they’d done this after every hunt, worked off the adrenaline pumping through them on each other’s bodies, fucking hard and fast. This time, there’d been no hunt. Sam was almost calm as he tilted his head up to Dean, pulling him closer. His heartbeat was hardly elevated; Dean heard it, felt it now against his skin, even though Sam’s cock was hard with blood. The scent of it was magnified now, a heady mix of arousal, sweat and copper.

Dean tried to move back, to give himself room to taste it, wanting to graze his teeth across the fine skin as it spurted come into his mouth, craving the flavor of it mixed with Sam’s blood.

But Sam held him where he was. Dean twisted, trying to break Sam’s grasp. Anyone else, and he could have taken him down, dragged him to the bed and drained him dry as he fucked him, but Sam was stronger. Dean’s fist lashed out, catching Sam on the side of the face, but all Sam did was frown, his eyes narrowing as his grip tightened. Dean howled his frustration, fangs slipping back into place as he strained towards the point on Sam’s neck where the skin was finest. One bite, and he’d show his brother just what he’d created.

Sam bucked his hips and slipped his free hand between Dean’s legs. Roughly, he pushed two fingers into Dean’s ass. Dean suddenly stilled, fangs retracting, his body taut as Sam found the spot he was aiming for. Now Dean shuddered, eyes fluttering shut as his body gave itself over to another need, as strong as the craving for blood, the need to have Sam inside him. His body and mind seesawed between wanting to dominate, to control, to bend Sam to his will, and wanting to give himself up to Sam, an old urge melding with a new one that was slowly recognizing Sam as the stronger of the two of them.

“Fuck me.” Dean demanded, his voice hoarse.

Sam grinned, pulling his fingers free fast, thrusting them into Dean’s mouth. Dean bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, just enough to hold them as he sucked on them, leaving them dripping with spit when Sam pulled them free. Sam worked him open quickly and efficiently and nowhere near enough to stop the pain he knew would follow, but Dean didn’t care. The head of Sam’s dick prodded at his hole, smearing the liquid that oozed from the tip over it, easing the burn a fraction as Sam pushed inside. Dean panted, head hanging low, rocking back and forwards, gradually taking most of Sam’s length as he held it steady until Sam couldn’t wait any more and slammed the last two inches into Dean with a grunt.

“Sam! Fuck!” Dean cried out, arching his spine and throwing his head back, gripping Sam’s shoulders hard enough to bruise as Sam thrust up into him. Sam wrapped his arms around him and held him close as he fucked him, Dean’s dick trapped between their bodies.

For Dean, every touch was intensified, almost to the point of pain. Every movement sent amplified sensation crashing through him. He struggled, trying to free himself from Sam’s hold, wanting to ride Sam at his own pace. He needed to come, needed to feed, needed to overdose on Sam in every way possible. When Sam paused, Dean whined, low and needy, unable to take the overload of sensation any longer without something to take the edge off.

Sam kissed him, ran his tongue round Dean’s mouth, lapping at the sensitive flesh that concealed his fangs. The skin throbbed as the points eased out, scraping against Sam’s tongue, releasing a little of the nectar Dean hungered for. Now he whimpered, the bloodlust taking over, surging so fast that he slammed Sam’s head back against the wall in an attempt to tear into his mouth, rend his flesh, gulp down mouthfuls of Sam’s life force.

Sam snarled, pulling him back just enough to force Dean’s mouth down to his bare shoulder, crying out as Dean bit down hard, and drank as if he were dying of thirst. Sam squirmed as he pulled more blood from him, until the loss of it threatened to sap his strength, then he took back control. He pushed Dean back, holding him at bay with one hand as his other wrapped around Dean’s cock and pulled on it as he fucked up into him.

Dean met him, thrust for thrust, forcing himself down, taking Sam as deep as he could. He came with a roar, body twisting, skin prickling, heat racing down his spine as he thrust up into Sam’s hand again and again, hot spunk almost burning his skin as he spurted between them. Sam let go, both hands holding Dean’s hips tight as he followed, pistoning into Dean, filling him until he had no more left to give.

Sam slumped back against the wall and Dean followed, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder, exhausted and shivering.

It took some doing, but Sam maneuvered them both into the shower and washed Dean’s skin clean of blood and come before seeing to himself. The wounds on his chest and shoulder were healing quickly, negating the need for stitches or bandages. Dean would have questions for him, he knew that, but first, Dean needed to sleep. Once he had Dean settled in one of the beds, he made sure the drapes were closed so the sun didn’t wake Dean before he was ready, and slipped into bed beside his brother.

Dean was his again; he’d never go back to Lisa. Sam let out a contented sigh and nuzzled the back of Dean’s neck. If he’d known what would happen when he jumped into the cage with Lucifer, if he’d known how he’d be rewarded for his actions, he’d never have made Dean swear to seek Lisa out. He couldn’t have known that he’d be welcomed in hell as a savior, as the one who’d returned Lucifer to his rightful place. Not only that, but he’d brought Michael with him, and for that, he was worshipped. He took it upon himself to hunt down every last one of Lucifer’s supporters, ridding himself of any opposition quickly and ruthlessly, something his new followers had appreciated.

It had taken him a year to secure his place in hell. A year of working with a demon who took great delight in helping him gain and keep the throne, and who reveled in the games he helped Sam play back on earth. A year of working with a grandfather it had been easy to resurrect. A whole year before he was ready to win Dean back, and now he had him. Now Dean was bound to him, not only by the bond they’d always shared, but also by the dark nature of the vampire he’d become.

Sam held Dean close and smiled, his eyes glittering yellow in the darkness.

Now the fun could really begin.