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Subterfuge and Sacrifice

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Dean stepped inside the door with Spike. He glanced around and recognised that they were standing inside a motel room. It was not entirely dissimilar to the one he was staying in with Sam on the other side of town, nor was it entirely different to the hundreds they’ve stayed in over the years – sparsely furnished, dressed in muted tones and an abundance of thrift shop chic.

Dean couldn’t determine the exact wherefore and whys of the magic Spike had used to create the space they stood in and right now, he truly didn’t give a shit about any of it. The thing he wanted most in the world was standing in the doorway, eyeing him in a filthy way that made fireflies dance and twirl in the pit of his stomach. The man he’d met in a dank dungeon under the mean streets of LA, a man that should rightly be his adversary.

The time between their last meeting and now had warped and elongated. For Dean, it certainly felt much longer than the nine weeks and four days that it had actually been. Not that anyone was counting. It had been two nights after what he often referred to as ‘the dungeon incident’ that they’d met in secret. Dean had to lie to Sam about where he was going, something he absolutely loathed doing but he couldn’t put any words to his truth whatever that was. Not then and not now, for the time being at least.

He had driven to the agreed meeting place and Spike pulled Dean into the dark and kissed him roughly, drawing him into his web of libidinous threats, promises and more besides. Their first time together was fast and furious and more than Dean could have anticipated. The second and third times, which came in quick succession after the first, were equally exhilarating with the forth promising to break him entirely. Dean very quickly learned just how rapid a vampire’s recovery time was.

What the elder Winchester hadn’t expected from their rendezvous were the evocative dreams or the spark of desire their clandestine encounter had ignited within him afterwards. He thought he’d gotten it out of his system once and for all; let the passing madness of his short-lived Stockholm Syndrome be dealt with. But the fates had had other ideas about that, and over the course of a few short but ultimately blissful hours, the blue-eyed vampire with the toxic blond hair had gotten under his skin.

Dean was broken from his focused musings when Spike slammed the door closed and shrugged out of his long black duster. Dean’s mouth went dry and his cock twitched at the sight of Spike standing in a tight black tee and impossibly tight black jeans leaving absolutely nothing to his increasingly fertile imagination. The memory of their previous time together built his anticipation for what this night had in store for them and it set his pulse racing.

Before Dean could pursue the thought any further, Spike was in front of him. He had momentarily forgotten how quickly vampires could move and inhaled sharply at the suddenness of his appearance. Spike gently led him towards the bed, his body pressed firmly into his and Dean went willingly.

Dean was forced into a seated position when the back of his calves connected with the edge of the mattress. Spike was positioned perfectly before him, legs splayed, and Dean grabbed his denim-clad hips nuzzling the outline of the vampire’s cock through the fabric with his nose, mouth and teeth. Spike unbuckled his belt and Dean unfastened the zipper with his teeth, watching Spike all the while with those sinful green eyes that the vampire knew would be his ruination.

“You know I get to fuck you slow when you’re done,” Spike growled at his impish lover.

“Mmm hmmmm,” Dean hummed long and low against the straining fabric, the delicious sensation splintering through him causing him to snap his head back. Dean slowly manoeuvred the jeans down over Spike’s hips and slid them to the floor as Spike removed his shirt and stepped out of the pooled denim at his feet.

Dean wanted to take a moment to drink in the sight of him – utterly naked, willing and more than able. The sight alone of his chiselled and marble-like perfection built his anticipation to a fever pitch. As Dean ran his hands over the slight curve of his hips, the high firm swell of the vampire’s ass and down along the well-defined inguinal grooves, he felt his breath catching in his throat. He laved his tongue in a hot wet trail up one side, head moving away from where the vampire needed him most.

The hunter’s ministrations moved further down as his mouth worked in torturously soft laps against the flesh of his groin, fingers gingerly teasing around and under along the perineum, each suckle and stroke pushing’s Spike need into the stratosphere. The vampire ran his fingers through the hunter’s hair and shunting his hips forward, desperate for him to be closer, aching to be inside Dean’s hot wet mouth already.

Dean finally acquiesced, teasing the head of Spike’s cock with his tongue before wrapping his full lips around the tip still staring up at him, fingers still gently working him open making Spike shudder and moan. Dean ramped up his assault, taking him down to the root in one swift surge forward so that Spike could feel the back of the hunter’s throat against him. Dean was un-fucking-believably talented, increasing his suction and speed, both hands hastily working him into a whimpering wreck as filthy curses and promises to far off gods and demons spilled from Spike unbidden through his sweet release.

Dean swallowed around the last pulsing vestiges of his orgasm, disengaged, slowly licked his lips and lay back on his elbows on the bed, seemingly pleased with his efforts in breaking the vampire down as quickly as he had. Spike swiftly straddled him and ran his fingers over his still clothed cock all the way up to his lips. Dean’s tongue darted out and lapped at the finger resting on his lower lip until Spike slowly pulled it away. Spike leaned in and kissed him, delicately parting his lips with his tongue tasting his own essence there.

“Not done with you yet, filthy boy,” Spike whispered hoarsely in his ear as he hauled him back off the bed.

“Go right on ahead and prove it, you dirty... fucking... vampire,” Dean said darkly, daring him to do his worst. Spike forced him back and down into the large leather wingback in the corner of the room.

“Get undressed,” he ordered sternly. Dean did as he was told, slowly removing each layer of clothing, biting down on his thick lower lip as he went, his eyes radiating licentious hunger until the last item of clothing hit the floor. Spike took his time to admire the view of the naked hunter slouched against the wingback. He was all perfectly sculpted angles and hard lines that Spike knew were the direct result of years of fighting and hard living.

Spike drew his eyes away from his prize as he strode to the bedside table pulling out some lube from the small drawer. He made his way back towards Dean flicking the cap off and coating his fingers watching as Dean gripped the arms of the wingback, his breath coming in quick hitching gasps, aching with need.

Spike kneeled in front of him and gently wrapped his lubed fingers around his pulsing cock, pumping him hard and fast until Dean came – all hitching breaths and desperate pleas. Spike lapped up the come from Dean’s heaving chest slowly laving his way up Dean’s body with his tongue, swallowing his spent essence as he did. When he reached his lips, he forced his tongue into Dean’s mouth, making him taste himself, knowing full well how much Dean loved it. Dean moaned into his kiss and arched up into Spike relishing the taste of himself on his lover’s tongue.

The vampire slowly traced a finger up Dean’s body and tenderly gripped his throat before pulling him up and out of the chair. He flipped their positions and pulled Dean back down into the chair on top of him, his breathing still ragged and uneven.

“Don’t think you’re ready for me yet, hunter,” Spike growled.

He reached for the lube again slicked his fingers and trailed them in under his scrotum, slowly teasing his way along his perineum until he found the little puckered spot teeming with nerve endings making Dean gasp and arch up against him. Spike slowly pushed a finger inside maintaining eye contact with him as Dean slid down onto it. Dean closed his eyes as he began to writhe.

“Open your eyes, baby, look at me.”

Spike’s voice was rough with heat and desire. Dean opened his eyes and fixed them on Spike’s. The vampire wrapped his free hand around Dean’s cock as he slowly introduced another finger and then another making Dean writhe and keen for more. Spike curled his long slender fingers inside making Dean moan and plead for Spike to fuck him, his fingers working him into a frenetic pace, never taking his eyes from the vampires’.

Spike was painfully hard again watching and feeling his beautiful hunter writhe and moan on the tips of his fingers. He relished feeling the heat inside his slicked passage that would soon be wrapped around him. Spike wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold out much longer so he slowly removed his fingers from Dean’s slick heat making him whimper and plead.

“Shhhh baby, not long now,” Spike cooed as he wrapped his hot wet fingers around his own hardness trailing slippery heat along his own length.

He quickly lubed himself up and positioned himself beneath Dean’s eager heat. He grabbed Dean’s hips to steady him and gently breached the borderline slowly sliding his engorged cock inside Dean. He ground his hips down, forcing his full weight down onto Spike’s cock taking all of him in, filling him up, moaning for all he was worth and begging for more. Spike gasped and shuddered at the sensation, not sure if he’d be able to maintain his own composure and not simply fuck the boy senseless.

Spike took his time, even though Dean wanted him hard and fast and oh-fuck-please-now. Normally, he’d have no hesitation in giving in, mostly because couldn’t hold out himself. Not tonight, not with him. Spike teased him into submission and once they hit the right rhythm – every so often bottoming out just to make Dean beg – Spike would slowly increase the speed or rotate and flick his hips, ever so slightly. He was in control and Dean was going to have to be a good boy and take what was given to him. There would be time for hard and fast later. Right now, it was going to be Spike’s way.

Spike would have been content to fuck Dean every which way for nights on end if only to watch his body undulate rhythmically against him, observe the ecstasy dance across his face, listen to him grunt and plead and bathe in the sinful litanies that fell from those perfectly ripe lips as he came. He’d relish the way his skin flushed pink as the blood rushed beneath, feeling his breath hitch in ragged gasps, watching the way his back arched as streaks of white heat pulse out of him, eyes rolling back and his entire body stuttering as he reaches glorious finality – poetry in motion.

Tonight was different and he wanted Dean to know it. He plunged into Dean one final time hitting his sweet spot and they both came long and hard, Dean painting Spike’s chest in stuttering spurts and Spike released inside him. They remained in place for a time, heaving, Dean slumping forward against Spike’s streaked chest catching his breath. Spike relished the sensation of Dean’s heart pounding wildly against his own silent ribcage and the warmth of his hot breath against his throat.

After a time, Spike reached up and delicately kissed his face and quietly suggested: “Time for a shower, love.” Dean responded with a quiet “Hmmmm,” in sleepy agreement against his ear.
Slipping himself down from Spike’s lap, Dean stood, somewhat precariously, and steadily made his way to the bathroom.

“You joining me or am I doing this alone?” Dean asked groggily leaning against the bathroom door.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, pet,” Spike smiled, flicking his bottom lip with his tongue and quickly followed him into the bathroom.

 

*

 

Dean stepped into the shower, the shower head spraying out a jet of hot water over him. He stood under it for a good minute or so before the vampire sauntered in asking if he was gonna save any of that for him. The hunter smiled at him telling him that he’d better get in if he wanted a chance of getting any which earned him a sardonic smirk.

Spike forced Dean up against the tiles and kissed him hard and Dean gave as good as he got in return. Spike moved his attentions down Dean’s torso to the taut nipple begging for his attention. He clamped his lips around the nub and flicked at it with his tongue; Dean arched his body into Spike, a hand in behind his head wanting to hold him in position. Spike felt himself change, his teeth elongated and he wanted to sink them into the taut flesh he was working on with his tongue.

Dean offered encouragement, “Go on, do it… I want you to…I want you to mark me…” he grit out breathless and needy. Spike uttered a quiet “you sure?” through delicate kisses up above the nipple. “Mmm, hmmff,” and finally “yesssss”, were all the encouragement a vampire ever needed.

Spike suckled the skin just below the anti-possession tattoo Dean shared with his younger brother and bit into the hunters’ taut flesh. Dean gripped Spike’s hair in his fist gritting his teeth and groaning loudly as he snapped his head back against the tiles. The sensation shocked him but Spike held firm suckling the blood that poured from him. As Spike slowed, he felt the tension leach out of Dean as he relaxed into it. The abruptness of fangs tearing into flesh always shocked at first, then, a slow steady rhythm would build from there calming things down as the initial shock and pain receded – as long as the vampire knew what they were doing. Dean was breathing again, still uneven but he was no longer gritting his teeth and holding it in.

Spike could heal the wound he’d just inflicted but Dean didn’t want him to. He wanted a small memento of this night. It was up to him as to how he was going to be able to keep it from the younger Winchester. Spike smirked to himself at the thought of Sam finding out. The shit-stirrer in him relished the thought of witnessing how that would go down.

 

*

 

Dean dried off, gingerly patting at the new mark Spike had gifted him, while admiring the vampire’s hardened body as he did the same. He hung his towel and returned to the bedroom. The bed looked so incredibly inviting as lethargy crept into his muscles and burrowed in behind his eyelids. Spike slinked up behind him wrapping his arms around his middle planting a soft kiss into the crook of his neck. Dean relished the feeling of his hardened body against him.

“Why don’t you get some shut eye? You could use it,” he whispered against his ear. Dean smiled and moved toward the bed. He pulled back the sheets and sunk down into the mattress. Dean held the blankets up, indicating space for the vampire to join him.

“Will you...?” The question remained unasked; the silent plea swimming in his eyes drew the vampire in.

“Of course, pet,” Spike murmured in response.

Spike curled in around the hunter, an arm slid under his neck and looped across his chest, his fingers lingering above the newly inflicted bite mark, the other tracing small circles across the swell of his hip and down across his hardened belly. Dean curled his fingers around Spike’s hand on his chest, relishing his closeness and smiling at the slight tickling sensation of Spike’s fingers along the lines and dips of his stomach and chest. Dean released a long sigh as the vampire curled in closer. He felt oddly safe in his arms as sleep blessedly settled over him.

 

*

 

Dean woke with a start and he realised that he was alone in the bed, sheets draped up around his shoulders. Spike was already awake and dressed, sitting on the end of the bed smoking a cigarette. He crushed it out in the clean ashtray between his feet on the floor.

“Evening, sleepy head,” Spike said turning to face him. A heart-shattering smile was beamed down at him and Dean wanted to sink further under the covers, to never have to leave this place.
But, his reality beckoned. He stretched and yawned to cover the yearning sigh that threatened to break from him.

“What time is it?”

“Here or out there?”

“There.”

There was a particular lethargy in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed. Spike realised the weight of the world was just outside of that magically barricaded doorway and was ready to pounce, eager to devour and crush the hunter again. He would let him stay if he had his way. Let him take his well-earned reprieve from the ever-present horrors that scratched and howled at the doors of his consciousness.

“A little before four,” Spike answered.

Dean nodded and slowly rose, slipping out of the bed to locate his clothes. He quickly dressed again as they prepared to take their leave. Spike closed the door behind them and they were in the clearing again, cars precisely where they were left. It was still dark but dawn would be approaching in just over an hour. Spike could feel it in his bones.

“So, how long are you in town for?” Dean asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

“A few more nights,” came the perfectly non-committal response.

It was killing Dean to leave. He knew he had to go but every instinct in him was screaming at him to stay. Dean leant in to kiss Spike languorously, lingering in the kiss to keep him close, to not have to let go. Spike could feel his need rising again but there wasn’t time. He knew that they had to part now, the sun would be up soon and Spike needed to get to another safe haven on the other side of town. Dean had a younger brother to get back to.

“Tomorrow night?” Dean offered hopefully.

His eyes were downcast, not wanting to look at Spike in case he said the one word in all the universe he couldn’t bear to hear right now. Spike paused, making the wait agonising.

“You got it, love,” he said, tenderly stroking the side of Dean’s face. Dean felt a flood of relief course through him.

“Meet you at the bar at sundown.”

“Not a second later, pet.”

They shared one last kiss before making their final departure. Dean didn’t quite know how he was going to get through the rest of today as he drove back through town to the motel where he and Sam were staying, his body still thrumming from his night with the vampire. The anticipation was going to gnaw at him relentlessly. But he knew one thing for certain; he’d be counting the hours, minutes and seconds until sundown.

As he drove away from the clearing, he silently hoped that Sam would be asleep when he arrived. Dean wasn’t convinced he’d ever be able to explain his way out of this one.

And in truth, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.