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“I thought I told you to go underground.”
The last time he’d seen Benny hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing. That asshole Martin had been tracking him on Sam’s orders like a good little soldier and was convinced a string of vamp attacks was him. Dean knew better. He always knew better. Maybe not always but when it came to Benny, Dean just knew. He knew Benny wasn’t on a rampage. Benny wouldn't have even slipped. Dean told him to keep his nose clean and he had been. Hell, he’d been doing it for years before he’d even been sent to Purgatory. He knew Benny was different. He just couldn't get his stubborn little brother to see it that way.
“Hey. I am so far underground, I'm breathing through a straw, brother.” Dean immediately heard the distress in his voice. The usually calm and playful southern drawl had curled into something cold. Something shaking. “Uh, look... what happened with your friend Martin back there, it wasn't supposed to go down that way.”
“I know. Your granddaughter told me.”
“Dean, you did this old dog a real solid, and, uh... the way you stood up for me –”
“Well, shoe on the other foot, you would have done the same.” Dean turned back, casually glancing at the walls of Fizzles Folly at the chicken scratches and illegible scribbles to make sure Kevin couldn’t hear. Last thing he needed was an eavesdropper that could let slip to Cas, or somehow Sam, that he was getting wind of Benny again. Thankfully Sam was off playing ‘House’ with Amelia and her white picket fence.
“Yeah. I hate to ask for much else, but I don't suppose there's any chance you're anywhere near the Catskills?”
Dean faced away from Kevin again. More of an unconscious habit than anything else. If his back was to the prophet at least it felt like he was talking to Benny in private.
“Working a case on the other side of the country. Why? What's up?”
“Yeah, just hitting a little rough patch, I guess. You know, doing this whole solo thing.” He knew what Benny meant. He’d spent 50 years in purgatory not having to deal with the hunger that came so naturally to a vampire. Dean couldn't fully understand it himself. The only thing he grew weak for when he made it topside was burgers, pie and sex. Fortunately for him, they're somewhat more easily acquired.
“Benny... one day at a time, man.”
“You know what? Uh... A cup of coffee sure would do me good.”
Coffee. Sure.
No way in Hell did Benny want a cup of ‘coffee’. He needed something else. Something more. Something not quite as bitter but still with enough kick to make his undead blood pump through his veins, though something entirely as warm and as addictive. Something not quite as pedestrian as coffee .
“All right, as soon as I'm done with this case, I'll, uh... I'll be there, okay?”
“Yeah. All right, brother. Thank you.”
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The whole shitstorm with Cas had been the final straw. He was going to say no to Benny. He was. Dean knew exactly what the vampire wanted, what he needed, and it wasn't healthy. For either of them. Though as soon as he’d heard that Louisiana drawl, that voice that ran so thick like honey, he knew he’d give in. Benny knew him too well. They’d only known each other a year, by Purgatory’s standards, but it felt like so much more. Now that they were topside, Dean found himself distracted by Sam and the Tablet and Crowley and even Cas but a single sentence uttered by Benny and he’d be dragged right back in. Benny was an addiction.
He meant what he said once they’d got out. What they did down there is what they had to do. He didn't regret it for a second, but it’s not like he’d be diving back in, face first into the same crap. He didn’t need it anymore. Dean even thought for a moment, one brief shining moment that everything was going to be ok. Cas was back. He almost didn’t care how , even though a little voice at the back of his skull kept asking. Sam had chosen him over Amelia, for which he almost felt bad. All these ‘almosts’. Almost having Cas. Almost feeling guilty. They were so close to being enough but not really. He still felt empty. Hollow. Cas had made sure work of that when he flew the coop with Alfie and hauled ass back to Heaven. He’d made it pretty damn clear he didn't need or want Dean. Not how Dean needed him.
So yeah, he caved. He had every intention of calling Benny back and telling him he couldn't. ‘End of the line’. Once Benny had answered the phone and his words came out so weak, yet so hopeful.. ‘ How close are you?’ .. It sent chills up and down his spine just to hear it. He was so sure Dean was going to come and have coffee with him, Dean caved instantly. He offered to meet him halfway. Somewhere in the middle of the twenty hour drive between the Catskills and Whitefish where Rufus’ cabin was in Montana. After a quick search on Sam’s hibernating laptop, he’d booked into a, probably seedy, little cabin by Bear Lake on the Idaho side. Somewhere halfway between them.
He gave Benny quick directions over the phone seeing as the dental Apocalypse wouldn't have used a GPS before. Luckily it was more or less a straight line if he followed the road signs through Utah. He dropped the call, deleting Sam’s browser history and waited for nightfall.
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Once Sam got back from his ‘walk’ they’d had dinner more or less in silence. He could read his baby brother like a book. He’d either let Amelia down easy or left some way for her to get the message. Good. Dean let the white noise of some TV show fill up the empty void between them and waited for the inevitability of an early night from Sam. He could feel his blood beginning to boil from the anticipation already and he was yet to get through the ten hour drive. Eight if he pushed it. So when Sam finally did go down, he grabbed the motels cheap stationary by the phone and scribbled out a note for his brother, knowing Sam would get the shits but not caring in the slightest. He had bigger things to deal with. He wrote out some crap that Sam would believe, maybe even see as ‘opening up’. That should shut him up for just long enough.
Don't get your panties in a twist. Gone for a drive. I'll be back before you know it. Need to clear my head after that Cas bullshit. I’ll call on my way back.
Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala, muffling the jingle with his other hand and left the motel room in silence.
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The drive to Bear Lake had gone faster than expected. He’d made it by sunrise and honestly didn’t even remember most of it. Baby had a habit of putting him in auto drive. He’d get behind her wheel and just zone out till he reached wherever it was he was heading. He vaguely remembered passing a few turn offs on a highway but overall he disregarded it. Dean was too focused on Benny. The potential of coffee weighed heavily on his mind. Even if he wanted to focus on the eight hour drive, the monotony and the anticipation would have pulled him right back back out of it.
He pulled up to the small secluded cabin at the side of Bear Lake. Given the time of year, there wouldn't be many tourists around. Families with rugrats were back in the school year and it was too cold even for couples to sneak away for a romantic getaway. Whoever owned this little wooden cabin owned it with purpose. It was far enough away from the main tourist run of the lake, but close enough to still offer that tourist appeal. The closest hoardes were a good 20 miles down the shoreline. That left Benny and Dean with more than enough privacy to talk over coffee.
Dean hadn’t been to Bear Lake before. He’d almost been when Sam was 12. He had to do some project on it at school and learned all sorts of useless crap. Even after Sammy left that school he'd beg dad to take them if they were in the area. He'd spew out useless facts like the lake had been called the "Caribbean of the Rockies". Something about it being a super blue color which was caused by limestone or something. Dean didn’t remember. He only remembered now as he closed the doors to the Impala and made his way over to the lake's edge. The first light of twilight started to dance across the surface of the lake. It was so blue . A blue that reminded him all too much of Cas and his stupid tie and his puppy dog eyes and all at once he found himself clenching his fists at his side. Through gritted teeth, he muttered,
“Damn it, Cas…”
“Don’t tell me you lost your Angel again.” Not knowing Benny was already here, he hadn’t even seen another car, he turned suddenly and saw Benny standing a stone's throw behind him. “I’ll be damned if I help you look for him again.”
Dean couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips. The tension he’d been holding since he left the Impala seemed to melt off and drain away at the sound of Benny’s voice. He darted his tongue out to dampen the lips he hadn't realised had gone so dry at the sight of him. He hadn't seen him since they ganked that vamp in Louisiana and tensions was riding high even then. Before Dean was in complete control of his actions, he found himself moving towards Benny and meeting him in a warm hug. Not a hug that Sam would find in one his chick flicks. A hearty thank you like the one they shared after escaping purgatory. As Dean pulled back, dragging his arms down and over Benny’s shoulders, he held them there a moment longer and an unsettling feeling rose in his chest.
“Benny, what the hell?.” Even in the dim light of morning Dean could see Benny was definitely struggling. God, how he even made the drive was a wonder. He was pale. Paler than usual. His eyes were dark and his usual presence which was so strong, so sure, was faded and weak. He was clearly holding himself back, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. Dean almost winced when he could make out the full extent of exactly how worn out Benny was. More out of instinct, he wrapped an arm under Bennys and held him at his side as he helped him maneuver towards the cabin.
“Yeah, maybe it's been a while since I ate something decent. Up yours.” He offered with a weak laugh. They’d seen each other less than a few days ago. How could he have dropped this fast in a few days? They made the their way clumsily up the few steps to the open patio and past the few wicker chairs to the door. Dean untangled himself from the, admittedly larger man, and searched for the key the owner said would be under the mat. Security mustn't be a huge issue in these parts. Dean thought to himself it must be nice to still have such a trust in people. He fumbled with the antique looking key and eventually managed to jiggle open the heavy wooden door. Tossing the key inside, he wrapped his arm around Benny’s waist and hauled him in.
The cabin could have passed as cute. Once Dean flicked the light on, the three lamps in the room had illuminated the small abode with a soft glow and it was somewhat nicer than the usual crappy motels they frequented. If it wasn’t so out of the way, Dean could have considered stopping at more places like this. It was small, but managed to serve its purpose. There was a small kitchen with a softly humming fridge at the far end on a linoleum floor. Next to it was a wooden table that managed to sit the two chairs against it comfortably, but not much else. There was a sitting room that extended beyond that and down the right wall of the cabin till it reached the door. Two long emerald sofas ran parallel with a low coffee table in the centre against a fireplace on the wall. Opposite that, along the left wall was a bed hugged by two side tables. Thankfully. Benny was in no way light so as soon as Dean managed to drag him inside, he sat him on the edge of it rather indelicately.
Dean couldn't help but laugh lightly at the sight in front of him. The burly vampirate from Louisiana sat on a bed that seemed all too fluffy with pink and white rose patterns on the sheets. He turned away, mostly to go and grab his things from the car but partially to hide the smile that was stubbornly glued to his face.
Taking the few stairs at once, Dean moved to the Impala and Benny’s run down ute. He grabbed the duffel bag of essentials from Baby’s boot and locked her for the night before opening the back of Benny’s ute and searching for an esky he knew was in there. Taking that as well, he closed the hatch of the ute and head back inside.
Once he’d returned to the cabin, he closed the door behind him, locked it with a click, and dumped the duffel on one of the sofas. He moved quickly, bringing the esky to Benny and opened it only to find one half empty bag of AB negative. Dean let out an audible groan to Benny, who had collapsed backward on the bed and lay with his eyes closed to face the ceiling.
“What the hell, Benny? Why don't up have more blood on you?”
Half mumbling, Dean barely picked up on the words he did manage to get out.
“Tastes like shit.”
“I know, but you don’t really have that luxury. You wanted to be clean, this is what you get.”
What seemed to be half consciously, Benny pulled himself further up on the bed and kicked at his boots till they dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. Dean dropped the esky next to them and moved up to the side of the bed.
“Benny you need to eat. I can’t believe I’m the one telling you this, you kept your nose clean for however long before purgatory and what, you’re just going to give up now?”
Benny pushed himself to sit upright, though weakly, on the bed next to Dean.
“Thank you, Dean. I didn’t know. Your insight into vampires is truly astounding.”
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically enough that Benny was sure to see it.
“Yeah, bite me.”
A silence filled the room and Dean could feel the tension rise tangibly between them. He kept his focus locked with Benny's and noted, not for the first time, that his eyes were a remarkable blue. Not the deep swimming pools that Cas had. Those were warm and comforting and all too beautiful. Dean wouldn't be caught dead saying it out loud though. Benny's eyes were like ice. Pale and crystal and so hard. You could see it when he fought that he was something else. The way fire burned through the washed out nothing in them was so unlike the Angel grace that seared through Cas, though it reminded Dean of them all the same. After the silence was held all too long, Benny spoke softly.
“Don’t poke a bear when he’s hungry Dean.”
His teasing, yet deadly voice, the thick honey that ran over polished stone, sent a wave of lightning through Dean, right to his core. He can’t forget what Benny is. Not really. He can play the part of human, keep his nose clean, fly under the radar but Dean could never forget what Benny is. Some part of him wondered if this is how he was when he was human as well, or if the alpha presence was something he moulded when he was reborn.
“If you’re hungry, why don't you eat?”
“I can’t.”
“Like hell you can’t. You managed before, you can do it again.”
Dean was all too aware of how Benny's gaze had shifted down to his neck. Dean could see the way his eyes danced when he swallowed, undoubtedly watching the Adam's apple bob in his throat, which only served to pump the blood harder.
“Benny..”
His gaze was unwavering, moving only from one side to the other as if determining which part of the flesh would be the juiciest.
“Benny….”
He let out, what Dean could have called purr . It was almost a growl but not quite as harsh. This entire thing was a bad idea. Dean should have said no on the phone. He should have.
“ Benny!”
His attentions snapped up and met his eye, a whole different fire behind them. One he’d only seen a few times before and that always let down a bad, bad road. A road with poor decisions, regrets and coffee. He knew Benny was in a bad way. He saw with Lenore all those years ago when she finally caved. Finally needed something hot. Hotter than lukewarm bagged blood. Benny was a monster playing at being a man. He’d said it himself, he doesn't know what he is. Some sort of creature in between. It was in moments like this, moments so rare that it had only happened three times early into their year in purgatory, that Dean was forced to remember. Forced to see Benny for what he truly was and not something he wanted him to be.
“I’m so hungry, Dean..”
“I know, Benny. I know.” He rested a hand on Bennys shoulder, a gesture all too calm for the battle taking place in his own head, Dean wasn’t able to say the words aloud. He knew what Benny needed. Hell, he’d fought it long enough. Maybe a part of him wanted it as well. What was one more time?
He stood, much to Benny’s obvious dismay and shrugged off his jacket and his flannel, leaving himself in a plain black, long sleeved Henley. He sat back on the bed, refusing to meet Benny’s eye and kicked his boots off and onto the floor. Dean positioned himself suddenly far too close to the monster in front of him. His features the very picture of hunger and confusion.
“I’m going to say this once, you hear me?”
Benny softly nodded in agreement.
“This is the last time we ‘have coffee’. Right?”
His reply was a sinful smirk that spread right across his face, down his jawline as he tensed it visibly and down to the fingers he palmed in the bedspread. Fingers Dean had eyed all too often both in purgatory and topside. Fingers that were big and strong and the memory alone was a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. God, he needed his head in the game. If he was going to do this he needed to be focused. He needed to be what he could for Benny. That was his only purpose right? Helping those who needed it before letting them move on? Giving up all that he was to make sure everyone else was alright. Dean was a giver. It wasn’t so much that his heart was so big that he wanted to do whatever he could. It was more the agony of seeing people he loved suffer. That was far more painful.
Dean needed the distraction. If nothing else, maybe taking care of Benny would rip Cas out of his head for a few moments. Just long enough to forget about the holy tax accountant and how far Dean had fallen for him. He knew he was a sap. He knew it was hopeless. He gave up denying it long ago. Though now he accepted it, it only made it worse. He knew that was a lost cause. Cas was sure to leave Dean at every given opportunity. He’d made that much very clear. Maybe a few moments with Benny could take him away. He couldn't have Cas. Maybe he could be a little selfish and take what he can have instead. Somewhat tentatively, he finally lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing the deep and long healed bite marks on the inside of either forearm. Marks left above the scar Benny had hitched a ride within.
The pale ice in Benny’s eyes had long turned to fire. The sight of Dean had blown his pupils to black and he was one step closer to looking the monster that he was inside.The monster buried deep beyond the vampire that helped him in purgatory, the monster beneath what could almost be called a man. More man than most humans Dean had ever met. Benny was different. Dean knew that. Which was why watching him go hungry was all the more heart wrenching.
“Dean…” He could tell Benny was fighting with himself. His hand on the bed sheets below him had twisted into a desperate grip and his lips tensed, probably from fighting against his fangs natural reflexes. “You make it so much easier. I just.. I need you, Dean.”
Any indecisiveness left within him melted away at those three simple words. If Benny knew how weak he truly was to feeling needed he probably would have had him wrapped around his fingers months ago. Dean grabbed the sides of Benny’s face and pulled him in for a hungered, desperate kiss. A fervent meeting they hadn't shared since the early days of purgatory. Benny growled as he fought for dominance which Dean willingly gave up. He parted his lips and allowed Benny’s tongue to delve inside and claim his position. Even if he wanted, Dean could never subdue Benny. He was such a strong and empowering force that wouldn't know the first thing about relinquishing control, nor would he want it or feel safe giving it. What Dean could give was control over him . Sure, it meant trust, but Dean trusted Benny with his life and had proved that on more than one occasion. Every relationship he’d ever had had gone to crap at one point, but the one thing he could say about Benny is that he’d never let him down. Never given him reason not to trust him with everything he was.
Dean allowed himself to get lost in the kiss. The way their tongues battled against each other as if they were built for it. The heavy panting between breaths as Benny fumbled at his own clothing to which Dean immediately helped with. The kisses grew messy as Dean slid Benny's jacket off behind him and tossed it across the bed to the floor on the other side. They broke apart long enough for Benny to sling the suspenders down his shoulders and for Dean to fumble at the buttons of his dress shirt only to give up halfway and rip the damn thing over his head, sending it in the same direction as his jacket.
With both of their chests bare and moving as they panted, Dean only had half a moment to remind himself of how built Benny was. It wasn’t just that he was strong and firm in all the right places, he was made this way. He barely caught his breath however before Benny was on him. He’d grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him onto the delicate floral bed sheets beneath them. Benny straddled him at the hips and Dean wasn’t entirely sure the subtle thrust against him was unintentional. The deep throaty moan he let out however, was.
Benny sat above him and gave him a moment, as if silently asking permission. Dean had barely raised his right arm, a signal for him to get moving, get it over and done with, he wasn't sure. Either way, he was starting to need it as bad as Benny was. So he offered his right. Something eating away at the back of his mind still had it in him that Cas’s mark would be, should be , on his left. Like what he was doing what some sort of betrayal to their ‘profound bond’. He shouldn't even be thinking it. Cas wasn’t here. He chose to not be here. This was him and Benny and quite frankly, fuck the world. He was sick of fighting so hard for it and getting jack shit in return.
Almost before he could even get it off the mattress, Benny let out a deep, throaty growl and bared his fangs. He took the arm in both hands and bit down into the raised, slowly healed flesh. Dean wasn't sure if he cried out in pain or some sort of sick pleasure but it did feel good. The pain and the adrenaline rush forced all other thought out of his head and filled it with the burning ache and the cold hot press of Benny’s lips on his skin. Once the initial pierce of teeth had sunk through his flesh, the throbbing of blood rushing to the surface dulled the searing pain to a dull ache. He could feel his blood draining through the bite on his forearm.
It probably wasn't the best place to have done it but it was the easiest to drain the blood in a place that Sammy wouldn't see. Not while he wore his long sleeves anyway which was every month of the year. The only truly hidden spot, Benny had told him, would be the femoral artery. A sweet, delicate spot that was a favourite between vampires and their pets. The blood flowed more freely, yes, but no way was Dean letting Benny at his inner thigh. It’s not that the trust wasn’t there, it's that the trust wasn’t with Dean to force him to stop if needed.
All he could do was lay there. Lay with his arm held up to Benny’s mouth and just feel the endorphins as they took over his body. This is what Dean needed. If he just happened to be helping Benny out then so be it. He rode his high as the pain lessened and the rush took over entirely. It hadn’t lasted nearly long enough before Benny pulled back and pressed his arm back to the mattress, all too gently given that he’d more or less torn it open. Once it touched the bedspread, it was instantly marred with a trickle of blood still oozing from the open wound. Clamping his other hand over it immediately to dampen the flow, Dean was somewhat pulled from his distracted state.
“What the hell? Why’d you stop? You barely had anything.”
Benny retracted his fangs, doing nothing to soften the bloodlust in his eyes and the smear of blood across his mouth. After a few moments silence, he finally spoke.
“I saw Desmond taste you.”
Dean shot his eyebrows to the ceiling. Desmond? That ganger vamp in Louisiana?
“I guess.. So what?”
“I know you have an extremely low opinion of us vamps -”
“Yeah I told you, healthy scepticism ”
“- And I know you aren't the type of girl to lift your skirt for just anyone. ”
Benny gently dragged a finger through the blood pooling at the base of the bite mark on his forearm. The thick digit came up and pressed past his lips as he sucked it clean.
“Your blood is mine, Dean.”
“I was pretty sure it was mine, actually, but thanks for making it weird.”
Benny leant over Dean, pushing him back into the mattress and leaning over him with each hand on either side of Dean’s face. He was close enough that Dean could smell the blood on his breath and for a terrifying moment he thought Benny was actually going to kiss him. He was never one for blood play. It was all far too squeamish and messy. He had enough blood and guts to deal with on a day to day basis, he shouldn't have to worry about Hunter OH&S on his downtime too.
“Your blood, Dean.. Is mine. Hot wings can have your soul. I know he’s claimed it.” The reminder made his stomach curl in a hot twist. He refused to call it shame. “But your blood.. No other vampire can taste you the way I’ve tasted you, Dean.”
Dean knew that vampires could be particularly possessive. It was part of their nesting habits. They were so close with the other vampires and meat bag humans they kept around, he guessed it was a little understandable. He kind of got it, to be honest. He’d always been a little protective of Sam but it wasn’t twisted in the way that vamps seemed to make it into. For them, it was something beyond family. Beyond belonging. If a vampire claimed a human it was more than just ‘dibs’ on a walking talking blood bag. There was all sorts of lore dating back to the first vampires. At least as far as Dean and Sam had read. If a vampire claimed a human, they were theirs . In a way another human could never have them. He silently wondered how different it was to an angel claim.
He swallowed thickly, now all too aware of how close Benny was. He tried to find the words to surrender. The words to give himself to Benny in a way no one else would have him. Benny could have him. At least someone wanted him. Without breaking eye contact, he drew his arm from the bed beside him and worked it around the tangle of strong muscles till Benny could clearly see his intentions. Holding the arm above his head, forearm exposed in a clear invitation, Dean saw the way his dead eyes lit up. The way his wicked grin returned before he bared his fangs once again.
The moment his fangs sunk back into the tender flesh, Dean let out a sharp and unsolicited moan, one that Benny encouraged with long, slow thrusts of his hips. Even through the fabric of Dean's jeans and Benny’s trousers, Dean could clearly feel the impression of Benny's thick erection pressing into him and the sensation mixed with the endorphins swirled together in a dangerous mix. Pressing his eyes tightly shut, he moved in time with Benny, rutting hard against him and cursing his traitorous mouth for making far more noise than it should. Good thing he picked a cabin so secluded.
With his left hand, which was by no means as dexterous as his right, he moved it between the heavy press of their bodies, reaching for the button and zipper of his jeans. He needed more. He needed the soft touch of skin on skin. He hadn’t had Benny against him since before they found Cas and Dean only refrained afterwards because of the sick pool of guilt that swam in his gut. He didn’t think Cas would be able to pick up on what had happened but the damn angel barely said anything anyway. And here he was thinking about Cas again. No. He couldn't have Cas here. Not now. He needed Benny. Just Benny and all of him and none of him. He fumbled at the clasp of the zipper, just managing to lower it before Benny took one hand from the side of Dean’s face, away from pressing down next to him and towards his own pants. At least he was in the same mind frame as Dean. They both needed this as much as the other.
Benny let go of Dean’s forearm long enough to lean back and slightly off of him. Dean raised his hips from the mattress and brought his still bleeding, albeit slowly, arm down to the waist of his jeans in an attempt to shimmy out of them. With the suspenders hanging uselessly to either side, it was a much easier feat for Benny to slide the thin material of his pants down and out of the way, taking his boxers with them. Dean sucked in a breath at the sight of Benny’s cock once again. It was far larger than his own. Benny was built big. His fingers were thick, his arms and thighs were as well. He was so powerful compared the flimsy men he’d had before, though that was a weak comparison. A few messy hand jobs and blowjobs in bathroom stalls barely counted.
He’d only resorted to them early on as his own rebellious defiance against his dad in the only way he could short of confronting the man outright. Later on it just stuck. Sure he was good with women. He loved women. But the the feel of a cock in his hands or filling his mouth or hot and hard against his own.. There was something taboo about it. Not that he had a thing against gays or whatever. It was only because his own father would have him hung, drawn and quartered if he found out. He only kept up the charade with Sammy for fear of judgement. He couldn't have Sam react like he was sure dad would have. Deep down he knew Sam wouldn't, hell he probably didn't even care. He was so open and accepting he’d probably even berate him about not opening up sooner. That didn't make him feel any better though. It was still wrong in the eyes of John Winchester. That was enough to keep it on the down low.
He’d barely wriggled his own ass and cock free of the clinging and slightly damp material before Benny was on him again. He’d only lowered his own trousers enough to let his own red and heavy cock free before the hunger, both for Dean and his blood, had taken over. Benny reached into the pocket of his lowered pants, as if he’d only just remembered, and retrieved a small bottle of lube from the depths of the fabric. Giving a small chuckle, Dean raised himself slightly off the bed and eyed Benny from the base of his cock up to meet his eyes.
“You’re kidding me? You brought that with you?” After the only reply came in the form of a smirk and a half shrug. Dean smiled again and came back with a teasing tone. “You sly dog.. Bit presumptuous, don't you think?”
“You saying you want to stay the blushing bride? Let the Angel deflower you if he ever -”
“Stop bringing him up!”
His angered tone startled the both of them. Benny stood up and off the bed entirely, leaving Dean to feel the open cold in the air. Still propped up on his elbows, Dean eyed Benny and saw him fight his own urges just to pounce on him and suck him dry. This was reason number one on a long, long list of why Dean was thankful Benny had reformed. He’d have hated being on the other end of that ravenous stare when Benny was still chomping on people. So when he spoke, it came out in a tone that seemed far too soft, even dipped in that thick southern drawl.
“He did something didn't he?”
Dean really wasn’t in the mood for a chick flick moment. He needed the pain, the pleasure, the mind numbing rush of endorphins as he held on to this side of passing out. He didn't need an interrogation.
“It’s cool, brother. I feel you. I told you then and I’ll tell you now. Three’s a crowd.” He, all too nonchalantly, brought the small bottle where he knew Dean could see it and flicked the cap open. Dean was far more interested in the mischevious grin behind it. “If he was that much of a jackass to leave you behind again then it serves him right.” He squeezed the clear lube from the bottle and drizzled it far too innocently over two meaty digits, smoothing it over with the other hand before placing the bottle on the bedspread to his side. Dean spared a passing thought to the owner and hoped blood and lube wasn’t too hard to get out of bed sheets.
Lost for words, and not for the first time tonight, he knew what Benny was asking. In purgatory, they’d only rutted against each other, Benny's thick hand wrapped around both of them as they thrust together. They couldn't do much else for lack of lube, especially when it typically came about all ‘heat of the moment’. He can't say he hadn't fantasised about it since hitting topside. In a silent yet very clear gesture, Dean pushed down at the waist of his jeans, kicking at them till they fell off and onto the floor with his socks. He remained propped up on his elbows, staring at Benny and hoping he wouldn't have to actually beg the bastard.
Taking the invitation, Benny stepped gracefully out of his trousers and leant on the edge of the bed. As if following some script they were making up as they went along, Dean swallowed thickly and raised his knees, planting his feet flat on the mattress and leaving himself far too exposed. The anxiety had barely crept in before Benny lay his slick hand over Dean's neglected cock, gripping it harshly and suddenly enough that Dean fell back onto the mattress. Benny began instantly stroking in long, slow movements, allowing Dean to catch his breath and not die from the grip alone.
The noises Benny was pulling from him were downright embarrassing. He moaned and gasped louder than he had ever allowed himself before. Perhaps because this was the first time, the only real time he didn't have to worry about anything. He wasn’t tucked away in some bathroom behind a bar, he wasn’t trying to keep quiet in fear of waking Sam when he’d sneak off to a shower in the middle of the night. Here he was free. He wasn’t judged or in hiding. He was with Benny and he was safe.
He’d lost himself in the slow, teasing pleasure but was pulled back out by the intrusion pressing against his tight hole. No one had done this to him before. Never in a million years would he have let anyone do this to him but with Benny it just came so naturally. They took care of each other. That was their way. So when his large finger, coated with slick, pressed gently inside, he all but cried out at the sensation. Benny was good to him. He kept him distracted with a tight, slick fist and long strokes, twisting at the head before making his way back down to the base. It helped him work past the almost burn of something inside him. He almost missed it when it faded away and was replaced purely by the pleasure of Benny drawing it back out before pushing it back in again. Before he had a chance to filter it, his traitorous mouth, again, spoke for him.
“Another.” Benny looked up from, watching his finger tease in and out of Dean’s tight little hole. The words having startled him, but not enough for him to break from the pace he had over both his ass and his cock. As dutifully instructed, upon removing the first finger, it came back in with a second, starting up the burn again and Dean could feel the stretch already. It was incredible. Dean could barely register the throbbing pain in the side of his arm anymore. Or it added to the sensations. He wasn't sure anymore. Benny had drunk from him but he’d hadn't gone deep enough to leave him to bleed out on the bed. The bite was shallow enough that it didn't cause too much of an issue, save for the smearing of blood left across the white and pink sheets.
Dean was chasing the burn. The pain that came from the second finger had faded far too quickly and before he found himself asking Benny for another. He knew how big Benny was. He knew the kind of prep he’d need. He wasn't a complete idiot. Three of his sizeable fingers should be more than enough to prepare him and make sure it hurts something sweet when he finally did take him. He knew that's what Benny was working towards and he’d found he'd never wanted anything this much in his life. He could do this. Give himself to Benny. Hadn't he already?
Benny let go of his cock long enough to grab the bottle of lube and top up what was already there. He covered the third finger and tossed it close by, knowing he'd be needing it again sooner rather than later. Curling his three fingers together, Benny pushed them past the relaxed muscle and deep into Dean's heat, eliciting more of the uncontrolled moans and curses that had been falling from him for what seemed like hours. He’d barely allowed himself a moment to adjust to it before he finally opened his eyes and looked straight down to Benny.
“Alright, alright. Do it. Do it, Benny.”
Still probing his fingers in and out of Dean, now neglecting his cock entirely, Benny teased back.
“What kind of manners is that?” He curled his fingers up, searching for and finding Dean's sensitive bundle of nerves, pressing just once earning him a simultaneous whimper and scream. Smiling at his own torment, he continued before Dean caught his breath. “Not even a please?”
“Fuck you.” Dean spat out, though it came out far weaker than he intended. His lungs weren't exactly cooperating at the moment and he feared much more teasing would be putting him in an early grave. Again.
“Well now, since you asked so nicely..” Benny slid his fingers out, leaving Dean to feel the muscles clenching and feeling far too empty. He palmed at the fabric beneath his hands as the lack of distraction forced the searing to rise back up on his forearm. The skin began to sting and twitch as some part of his brain remembered it was bleeding, even lightly. Somewhere far off, another part of him heard Benny click the lid shut on the bottle and toss it back against the bed. With more effort than he thought necessary, he looked between his legs and saw Benny lathering himself, smoothing the lubricant from the tip of the head down to the base of his thick cock, eyes never leaving Dean’s. The sight made Dean's cock twitched with anticipation.
Dean forced himself up again, wanting to drink in the full image of Benny. He propped himself up on his elbows, looked past his heavy, weeping cock and up to Benny. He was all thick and muscles in the right places and damn, if it didn't make Dean weak just to think about it. Their few moments in purgatory would pale in comparison what what was coming next. Dean shifted back on the mattress, offering Benny more space between his legs. Seeing him move, Benny leant forward and crawled closer to him, almost like a predator going in for the kill and honestly, he pretty much was. Dean was his. There was no denying it anymore.
Benny knelt between Dean’s legs, the ravenous bloodlust clear in his blown pupils. He moved somewhat quicker than necessary, though Dean couldn't tell if it was from a hunger for Dean or for his blood. The only warning he gave was a flicker in his eye before he wrapped his hand around his cock and positioned it at Dean's eager hole. Refusing to miss a moment, even when the tip of his cock pushed into him, Dean refused to collapse onto the bed again. He was overwhelmed with a need to watch what Benny was doing to him. How he claimed him. He could barely breathe, his air had been punched from him both from the sight and the near tearing sensation of Benny's slick cock pushing inside of him.
Maybe he should have let Benny use three fingers a little longer.
The burn had returned in force and Dean reached over to gently stroke his own cock. An apology to himself, but also a promise that Benny would make it so good for him. So good in a way it had never experienced before. He fisted himself slowly, dragging the leaking precome from the tip down to the base, squeezing a little before repeating the motion. Benny was careful. Despite his heaving chest and the suppressed growl in his throat, he worked Dean open slowly. He’d press in half an inch or so before pulling back, delving in again a little deeper and deeper, even reaching for more lube once. He knew he was big. He knew what to do to make it good for Dean. Another reason to trust him, Dean thought. Was there any sign at all that Benny would inevitably would screw him over, though not quite as literally as he was now? Everyone did at one point. Dean hoped he wouldn't, almost begged it. Benny was too good to him.
Dean panted heavily as the waves of pain and pleasure crashed over him. He could hear himself moaning, spewing some string of broken words and curses as Benny pushed further and further into him until Dean felt the haired skin of his thighs. He was fully seated and Dean was paralysed. He’d played with his own fingers before but he’d never felt so inexplicably full . Nothing could compare to this. Not ever. He could feel his own muscles clenching and adjusting themselves to be comfortable around the, frankly, huge cock in his ass. His hand slowed on his own cock as the burning lessened down to a heavy throb. More needy than in pain. Relaxing back on both his elbows, he leant his head back, staring at the wooden ceiling above him and remembering how to breathe. He'd closed his eyes, but didn't remember when.
Once he’d caught his breath, he raised his head again and looked back at Benny. He was near shaking with the anticipation and desperation to actually move. Dean cracked a half smile that something as monstrous as a vampire could even have this much regard for a human's safety. For a human's well being. He’d never be able to thank him completely. But he could give him what he needed. Meeting his eye with a clear instruction in mind, all he managed was a simple nod to ask him to move. Luckily, it was all Benny needed.
He'd pulled most of the way out and slowly pushed back in, almost experimentally. When Dean dropped his head back again, letting out a long breathy moan, it gave Benny a full thumbs up that Dean wasn’t in pain. Or if he was, he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
So he picked up the pace. Slowly at first, pulling out to the tip, then pushing his full length back in again. Each time marginally faster and faster till Dean found himself pushing back towards him, a silent plea for more. Benny growled. He moved the hand he’d been guiding himself with and dug his fingers into the flesh at Dean's hip, forcing him down onto him and moving faster and faster within him, reaching a brutal pace.
He’d have screamed if he felt he had the breath. He’d have shouted a string of curses at the damn vampire but his lungs were fighting their own battle. Dean could barely suck in enough oxygen before Benny pounded it right back out of him with each brutal thrust. It took all his strength to keep propped up on his elbows, watching as Benny thrust into him, harder and harder.
Benny had curled his body forward, leaning over Dean and making them almost press their foreheads together. The gesture would have been far too soft. Nothing was soft or gentle about ‘coffee’. It never had been. It was something needed. It was reigniting a fire and pouring enough incentive into each other, hoping it would last long enough to fight off the inevitability of giving up entirely.
It came as a shock to both of them when Dean raised his left arm, his good arm, his branded arm, and wrapped it around Benny’s shoulders. He held himself up, using Benny's weight and strength and was far too close to him, now that the movement had stunned Benny into almost stopping entirely. The pause gave Dean a moment to catch his breath and feel the voiced sob in the back of his throat. His throat that seemed too untouched. His arms were branded and torn by teeth, his cock wept between the friction of their bodies and his ass was going to be sore tomorrow. He needed more. Something in his head was screaming at him, begging him not to part his lips and just ask Benny to -
“Bite me.”
Benny, who it seemed was also gathering himself, preparing for his next ruthless assault, managed to huff out a broken response.
“Can't reach your arm, chief. I’ll eat after.”
Dean tried to stop himself. He really did. He couldn't remember the last time he could actually hear his inner self yelling at him but the part of him that didn't care was too strong. He didn’t care if Sam saw. He couldn't give a shit if Cas knew. He probably wouldn't even care if he did see. If he saw. If he came back. All he knew with a dangerous certainty was that he needed it. He need to feel all of it. With the arm up behind Benny's neck, he pulled himself up, guiding Benny down till he felt the vampire's cold lips on his neck. He felt Benny’s whole body tense, fighting off a useless urge to contain himself.
“I said bite me .”
He knew the moment before it happened. The purr in the back of Benny's throat had turned harsh and his muscles had relaxed. Dean heard the tear of fangs ripping free a split second before Benny buried the teeth into his jugular. He couldn't contain the whimper that passed his lips but the feeling of Benny still inside him did a little to ease the pain. Dean was sure he didn't ask, but Benny took the request all the same. He started moving again, long and slow and Dean could feel the way he angled his hips, causing every other thrust to push lazily against his prostate.
Dean’s hips bucked upwards into Benny's inadvertently which only served to encourage him and make him thrust harder, more directly and aimed at the sensitive nub within him. He should have been disgusted. He could hear as Benny drank deep of his blood, the vulgar sound of if as he swallowed right by Dean’s ear. Though as he grew increasingly faint, he found the sound of it anchoring. It was Benny, drinking and fucking lapping up Dean’s blood. He needed Dean to survive. He needed Dean and the obscene sound reminded him that he mattered . If only for a moment, and even if it was only by a vampire he shouldn't call his friend.
Dean was awash with the overwhelming sensations. The pressure against his prostate. The sharp bite in his throat, the not-enough friction on his cock and the dull ache on his forearm. It was the devastating combination that ripped through his core and forced his orgasm to spread between them and clench convulsively around Benny’s cock, effectively pushing him over the edge as well. It mostly came as a surprise and seemed to shock Benny into his own as well, giving that his thrusts were only now becoming erratic as he filled Dean with his warm seed. That was interesting. The rest of him ran so cold. Dean should have, again, been more concerned with the fact that Benny was filling him. He should have worn a condom.
If it wasn't so cliche, he would have said he had an out of body experience. Given the brutal beating his body had taken tonight, at his own volition, he felt as if he was floating. He hang on the precipice of utter euphoria. His body pleasantly numb as Benny released the hard bite on his neck, fumbling for his shirt which he bundled and pressed at the side of his throat. His body moved on it own volition. He could feel his arm releasing from around Benny's neck, leaving him to collapse back gracelessly onto the mattress below him. He felt as his phantom limb came up and placed a hand over Benny’s, taking the bunched fabric and holding it to his throat.
Some immeasurable amount of time later, Dean seemed to sink back into his own body. The numbed sensations using their way to the surface and burning harder than they had a moment ago. He winced as Benny finally pulled out, the muscles clenching and begging to be filled again. Dean was all too empty. He’d never feel that full again. Not unless he .. No. He had already decided this was the last time. He just prayed to whatever God was listening he could stay away better than he ‘stayed away’ this time.
As the individual sensations sunk back in, the sting in his forearm, the ache in his ass which was already beginning to form, the trickle of Benny's come as it trickled out of him and the sharp searing in his throat, Dean felt the familiar weight of a guilt reforming in the pit of his gut. Shit . He really shouldn't have done this. How the hell was he supposed to explain the actual fucking love bite on his neck. A part of him just hoped he could curl up and stay in this little cabin at Bear Lake and never have to face him. Not face Sammy, not Cas, not even Benny who would undoubtedly give him shit for whatever it was they just did. As if on cue, that damn Louisiana drawl, which was more comforting than it had any right to be, broke through whatever downward spiral Dean had put himself on.
“You ok, brother?” Dean chuckled softly. As if a vampire cared about Dean. “I mean it, Dean. Are you alright?”
When he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the ceiling, he wasn't aware he’d been staring anywhere to be honest, he’d followed the sound of Benny's voice over to where his naked ass was searching through Dean’s duffel. Dean disregarded it. Not like he had anything to hide in there. He’d asked a question though and Dean felt Benny deserved an answer, even it was a sorry one.
“Yeah, super.”
He pressed down on the shirt, hoping if he dug in hard enough, the pain would release a new wave of endorphins and he, if only for a moment, didn't have to worry about how the hell to explain this to Sam. Dean felt the bed sink as his side as Benny sat next to him. He’d brought over the very basic hunters first aid kit he kept in his bag. He kept them everywhere, really. There was another on Baby's glovebox. Another in Sam's duffel back in Montana. It was part of the hazards of being a hunter. It came with the gig that you’d most likely come away from a hunt with a few cuts and bruises. Or something deeper, like the bite Dean was sporting now.
“That won't turn me will it?” He asked, half jokingly. Dean knew what it took to become a vampire and he wasn't to keen on having it done to him again. “Once as a vampire was enough.”
The confession stopped Benny in his tracks. He’d pulled out a few bandages, some gauze and other bits and pieces from the small pouch but at Dean’s words, he's stopped looking for supplies entirely.
“Say again, chief?”
Oh. He hadn't told Benny about his Adventures with Soulless Sam before. Not that it really required mentioning. He even thought Benny would find it funny.
“Few years ago. I was turned but there was a cure.” Benny's eyes lit up, if only for a moment. “Sorry, only works if you haven't eaten anyone yet.” The follow up came like a physical blow to him. Dean didn't mean to get hopes up or anything. He was only vaguely aware of what he was saying. He was still running on some post orgasm high which turned out to be as dangerous as being drunk. He was just as prone to say stupid shit. Maybe even more so.
Benny met Dean’s hand and pulled the shirt away from his throat, peeling it slightly where the blood had dried the fabric to his skin. It had stopped bleeding at least. Given he was only slightly light headed, Dean was thankful he wasn't worse off. He had to commend Benny on knowing when to stop.
“You sure you’ve had enough?”
Benny looked so much better. He could even pass as human with the amount of colour that had returned to his cheeks. Given he was able to make it to the lounge and back was a step up from Dean's lack of mobility at the moment.
“I had plenty, don't worry about me.” Dean laughed softly again.
“Worrying about you is the whole reason I got in this mess to begin with.”
Benny fingered the gauze for a moment, making a feeble effort to wipe off the traces of Dean's blood that had spilled onto them.
“You're too good to me Dean. Thank you, brother. I mean it.”
Dean rolled his eyes, dramatically enough so Benny would take it in the spirit in which it was intended.
“Yeah, up yours.” He smiled and made a weak attempt to turn his neck towards Benny, allowing him to clean up his mess. He can worry about Sam later. He will worry later and it’ll come in full force, as soon as his head recovered and his blood count rises again. Till then, he can let himself be taken care of.
Just this once.