Fic: Last Rites (Supernatural)
Apr. 21st, 2006 12:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosTitle: Last Rites
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,034 words
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Spoilers: "Dead Man's Blood" (but obviously AU along the way)
Warnings: Incest, sexual situations, character death, bad language, bloodplay (When I go all out, I go WAY out ...)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: If they get your scent, they have it for life.
Author's note: There is so something wrong with me. *headsmack* (Forgive me if I screwed up the canon, for I didn't actually tape the episode. WOE.)
*****
Last Rites
*****
Vampires mate for life, Sam knows, so maybe turning his brother isn't the best idea in the world.
It's hard to resist, though, Dean trussed up to a tree like he is, stripped of his weapons and narrowing his eyes at his little brother like Sam's the one who betrayed him. Like Luther hadn't ripped the flesh of his wrist open and pressed it to Sam's lips before he could flinch away, the perfect revenge against the hunters who tried to kill his mate.
"You can have him, you know," Luther whispers in his ear, and the words curl in Sam's still chest like a warm promise. "He could be all yours."
He already is, is what Sam's thinking, but Dean's yelling something at him, growling it like he does when he's enraged. Fight it, Sammy, I know you can, the same old bullshit. Sam watches Dean's lips form the words and imagines the taste of them tinged with the coppery taint of his own blood, how long Dean would fight him on it, if he'd finally break down before the change went through.
Sam feels the bite of cold steel dividing the skin on his wrist, fixes Dean's gaze while he draws his tongue slow and steady across the wound.
Dean keeps pleading the same bogus nonsense until Sam's lips press against his and his tongue slides past Dean's lips, the heated tingle of Sam's blood cutting off his words as if he's suddenly been driven mute.
*****
Two hours later, Sam's got Dean slammed against another hard surface, but this time it's the wall of their motel room and Dean's kissing back without restraint. Oh, hell, is he ever, Sam thinks, Dean going after Sam's mouth with these ravenous fucking kisses that make Sam half-expect the bastard's going to bite his tongue or some shit. And now Dean's sucking on the damn thing, too, hands undoing Sam's belt and zipper blindly like a goddamn pro and tongue taking up permanent residence in Sam's mouth.
"Dude, we could have been doing this ages ago," Dean says, and his fingers wrap around Sam's cock and start moving with this distracting twist of his wrist that drives away what little sense is still left in Sam's head.
"Yeah, well, we weren't vampires ages ago," Sam whispers raggedly.
Sam wonders what that says about what they are now, that their only reaction to that is to laugh low and husky and go right back to what they were doing.
*****
The next night, Luther presents their father's body to them like a present, spread out on a pallet in the woods like some ancient cremation rite or something. He hands Sam a torch, the flames glowing wild in the darkness, and says, "Care to do the honors?"
Dean says nothing, hangs back with his collar up and his hands in his pockets and watches as Sam takes the torch without comment.
Sam was turned first. It may have only been a handful of minutes, but it still counts. Here, that means something more than big brothers or little brothers ever will.
John Winchester looks like he's sleeping, really, if you ignore the places where he's been torn apart, and all Sam can think as he looks down at the man is that it's probably a good thing he's dead, that he didn't get to see what the hell happened to his sons or do anything to end it. Sam doesn't want it to end, not now. There's a difference between staring down the barrel of a shotgun at a grizzly bear and being the fucking bear, for Christ's sake.
Sam steps forwards to light the pyre, moves to hold the torch to their father's body ... and stops.
There is John and there is the gasoline the others used as an accelerant, and underneath it all there is another scent entirely.
Sam says something under his breath, something hissed and growled at the same time that no one but Dean recognizes as something real, and he drops the torch onto the pyre and stalks away as the flames spread.
"The demon," he says as he passes Dean, "Dad's got the scent of the demon on him."
Dean's lips curl in a smile as he trails after Sam.
The others don't protest, don't make any arguments about staying with the nest. Maybe they already know better.
*****
It's not the same anymore.
They're not on some fucking quest, not like they were before, not chasing after the thing that tore their family apart. "Lots of things have torn our family apart," Sam says now after Dean's done sucking his cock in the front seat of the Impala as Sam's driving them through Wyoming at breakneck speeds. "Why the hell should this son of a bitch get special treatment?"
Dean licks the last taste of Sam from his lips and settles back in the passenger's seat. "Beats me, Sammy," he says. "It's your girlfriend it killed."
Just for that, Sam nearly pulls the car over and beats the shit out of Dean, but he's pretty sure that's what Dean was going for.
*****
They're still headed in what feels like a straight line with a real destination when Sam catches the scent on the breeze again like a fucking bloodhound and now Dean's got it, too, latches onto it and devotes it to memory. This whole hunt goes against everything they are and with it all at once, because the call of the others still back in Colorado is fierce but it's not half as gut-wrenching as that distinctive mix of sulfur and woodsmoke neither one of them will ever forget.
They kill four people at that gas station, and don't bother to look back as they pull out onto the highway gassed up and well-fed.
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,034 words
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Spoilers: "Dead Man's Blood" (but obviously AU along the way)
Warnings: Incest, sexual situations, character death, bad language, bloodplay (When I go all out, I go WAY out ...)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: If they get your scent, they have it for life.
Author's note: There is so something wrong with me. *headsmack* (Forgive me if I screwed up the canon, for I didn't actually tape the episode. WOE.)
Last Rites
*****
Vampires mate for life, Sam knows, so maybe turning his brother isn't the best idea in the world.
It's hard to resist, though, Dean trussed up to a tree like he is, stripped of his weapons and narrowing his eyes at his little brother like Sam's the one who betrayed him. Like Luther hadn't ripped the flesh of his wrist open and pressed it to Sam's lips before he could flinch away, the perfect revenge against the hunters who tried to kill his mate.
"You can have him, you know," Luther whispers in his ear, and the words curl in Sam's still chest like a warm promise. "He could be all yours."
He already is, is what Sam's thinking, but Dean's yelling something at him, growling it like he does when he's enraged. Fight it, Sammy, I know you can, the same old bullshit. Sam watches Dean's lips form the words and imagines the taste of them tinged with the coppery taint of his own blood, how long Dean would fight him on it, if he'd finally break down before the change went through.
Sam feels the bite of cold steel dividing the skin on his wrist, fixes Dean's gaze while he draws his tongue slow and steady across the wound.
Dean keeps pleading the same bogus nonsense until Sam's lips press against his and his tongue slides past Dean's lips, the heated tingle of Sam's blood cutting off his words as if he's suddenly been driven mute.
Two hours later, Sam's got Dean slammed against another hard surface, but this time it's the wall of their motel room and Dean's kissing back without restraint. Oh, hell, is he ever, Sam thinks, Dean going after Sam's mouth with these ravenous fucking kisses that make Sam half-expect the bastard's going to bite his tongue or some shit. And now Dean's sucking on the damn thing, too, hands undoing Sam's belt and zipper blindly like a goddamn pro and tongue taking up permanent residence in Sam's mouth.
"Dude, we could have been doing this ages ago," Dean says, and his fingers wrap around Sam's cock and start moving with this distracting twist of his wrist that drives away what little sense is still left in Sam's head.
"Yeah, well, we weren't vampires ages ago," Sam whispers raggedly.
Sam wonders what that says about what they are now, that their only reaction to that is to laugh low and husky and go right back to what they were doing.
The next night, Luther presents their father's body to them like a present, spread out on a pallet in the woods like some ancient cremation rite or something. He hands Sam a torch, the flames glowing wild in the darkness, and says, "Care to do the honors?"
Dean says nothing, hangs back with his collar up and his hands in his pockets and watches as Sam takes the torch without comment.
Sam was turned first. It may have only been a handful of minutes, but it still counts. Here, that means something more than big brothers or little brothers ever will.
John Winchester looks like he's sleeping, really, if you ignore the places where he's been torn apart, and all Sam can think as he looks down at the man is that it's probably a good thing he's dead, that he didn't get to see what the hell happened to his sons or do anything to end it. Sam doesn't want it to end, not now. There's a difference between staring down the barrel of a shotgun at a grizzly bear and being the fucking bear, for Christ's sake.
Sam steps forwards to light the pyre, moves to hold the torch to their father's body ... and stops.
There is John and there is the gasoline the others used as an accelerant, and underneath it all there is another scent entirely.
Sam says something under his breath, something hissed and growled at the same time that no one but Dean recognizes as something real, and he drops the torch onto the pyre and stalks away as the flames spread.
"The demon," he says as he passes Dean, "Dad's got the scent of the demon on him."
Dean's lips curl in a smile as he trails after Sam.
The others don't protest, don't make any arguments about staying with the nest. Maybe they already know better.
It's not the same anymore.
They're not on some fucking quest, not like they were before, not chasing after the thing that tore their family apart. "Lots of things have torn our family apart," Sam says now after Dean's done sucking his cock in the front seat of the Impala as Sam's driving them through Wyoming at breakneck speeds. "Why the hell should this son of a bitch get special treatment?"
Dean licks the last taste of Sam from his lips and settles back in the passenger's seat. "Beats me, Sammy," he says. "It's your girlfriend it killed."
Just for that, Sam nearly pulls the car over and beats the shit out of Dean, but he's pretty sure that's what Dean was going for.
They're still headed in what feels like a straight line with a real destination when Sam catches the scent on the breeze again like a fucking bloodhound and now Dean's got it, too, latches onto it and devotes it to memory. This whole hunt goes against everything they are and with it all at once, because the call of the others still back in Colorado is fierce but it's not half as gut-wrenching as that distinctive mix of sulfur and woodsmoke neither one of them will ever forget.
They kill four people at that gas station, and don't bother to look back as they pull out onto the highway gassed up and well-fed.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 04:47 am (UTC)Uhm. OW. And creepy. And God that's good.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 04:53 am (UTC)I mean, "Vampires mate for life"? The writers should not be allowed to feed me lines like that. ;)
And thanks!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 04:57 am (UTC)♥
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 05:10 am (UTC)There's a difference between staring down the barrel of a shotgun at a grizzly bear and being the fucking bear, for Christ's sake.
Dude, Word.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 05:13 am (UTC)And it's really fantastic, even though you BROKE MY HEART OMG PAPA. *cries*
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 05:14 am (UTC)also: HOLY FUCK MAN.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 05:32 am (UTC)And look, John died.
This just made me happy all around.
♥
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 05:35 am (UTC)Yeah, this is what we all thought & pray for very fuckingsoon!
Poor papabear.
But damn Vamp!Winchesters!!!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 06:51 am (UTC)b) YOU'RE SO MEAN TO THE BOYS. Honestly woman. One would think you hated them or something! *lol*
c) I = broken. In such a good way.
*MWAH* You win at life.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 01:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 02:11 pm (UTC)Just. Yeah.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 03:27 pm (UTC)I crave this fic.
I love it and I want more.
Damn you rock so much. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 04:59 pm (UTC)Okay, first this is SO FAST and that's amazing and to be lauded.
Second, holy crap this is outstanding. So very Sam and Dean yet so creepily not. It's perfect because it's not so much what they've become but what they DON'T have anymore. You know they are changed by the emptiness there. You rock.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 05:35 pm (UTC)And, lo, I woke this morning and you had! Oh, it was like waking to a world where everything I want comes to pass. It was great. Vamp!Winchesters? Be still my heart! You win at everything. Congradulations. Have a cookie.
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Date: 2006-04-21 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-04-22 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-22 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-24 07:11 pm (UTC)As always, you rock.
vamp!Sam&Dean are really, really hot. Yis.
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Date: 2006-04-25 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
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