Craving

The next morning, Sam stood in the large kitchen of the cabin, opening cabinet after cabinet as he searched through each one, only to wind up closing them each with a huff. "Dammit," he mumbled as he started going through the next row of cabinet's he came to, then moving to the refrigerator, only to find each and every thing in the kitchen empty. Immaculately clean, and empty. "Now I know how old Mother Hubbard felt." He frowned hard as he closed the fridge and opened another cabinet.

Dean walked out of the bedroom, eyebrow raised to find Sam in the most unused room in the cabin. "Whatcha doing?"

Sam looked over his shoulder, lips parted in slight 'huh' expression. "Oh," he turned back around and frowned into the empty cabinet, "Looking for food." he said as he swung the cabinet closed and turned to look at Dean, "I'm friggin' starving!"

"Ah... about that..." Dean had expected Sam to wake from the change ravenous, but then he'd taken his blood and maybe that had held him for a while. "It's not that kind of hunger, Sam. You need blood. We're up here cause there's plenty to hunt. I'll show you." Putting his hand out, he nodded toward the door. Though it was snowing outside, they wouldn't even need jackets.

Sam looked at Dean and blinked, then frowned as he looked toward the door. "Uh, no dude. I was thinking like chicken alfredo or pizza actually." Sam said as he looked again into an empty cabinet, "Oh! I know! Chicken stir fry!" he said with a grin looking over at Dean, "Does any place deliver out here!?" he asked excitedly.

"You need blood, you won't like food anymore," Dean insisted. "Come on."

* * *

An hour later a very perplexed Dean was sitting across from Sam, staring at him as they waited for... the pizza delivery guy. Sam had been so grossed out by Dean's demonstration of how to catch and get your fill of deer, he'd puked right there on the snow. Puked... Dean hadn't even known a vampire could throw up.

He slapped his fist into his palm as they waited, thinking that pizza would probably get the same reaction out of Sam. "It’ll get better. I've never seen a vampire go green."

Sam sat slouched in a chair, looking at Dean through lowered lids. Making a face, he rolled his head to the side against the chair back, "Dude, that was just... gross." He looked back at Dean, "No offense, but I think I'll stick to real food."


"I don't think you can. You'll get used to it, trust me." They both turned toward the window at the sound of a car approaching. Dean pushed up and went to the door. Paying for the pizza and soda, he returned and put them down on the coffee table. "Knock yourself out." He was ready to enjoy this, and wasn't hiding it. "For all the times you made me eat your human food."

Sam sat forward and glanced up at him with a grin before looking back down and flipping the box top open. Pulling out a slice of pizza, Sam took a bite, before laying the piece back down and wiping his hands on the napkin. Chewing he reached for the soda cans and opened one.

He looked up at Dean and made a face, "Yeah, you're right... I should have gotten extra cheese." he muttered before looking back and picking up his pizza again, taking another big bite once he had swallowed the other. Sam looked up at Dean, lifting the slice of pizza, "Come on, try a bite."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me... you're..." as the slice approached his mouth, Dean leaned way back. "I'm cursed...I'm fucking cursed, you're never gonna lay off with this... never." His eyes were swinging between Sam's mouth and the slice of pizza as his brain tried to catch up.

"Aw, come on... Hey, if it'll make you feel better, I'll ask them for venison on the next pizza," he chuckled, taking another bite. "It's good," he said around a mouthful, reaching for the soda can.

"Gross." Shuddering, Dean merely watched him.

* * *

Sam stood out side in the middle of a snow bank, amazed that he was standing there in just a t-shirt, jeans and his boots without freezing to death or catching pneumonia. Reaching down as he saw Dean walking toward him, Sam grabbed up a hand full of snow, packed it into a tight ball and hurled it at Dean, hitting him square in the face.

Throwing his head back in laughter, arms raised above his head, hands closed in fists, Sam yelled, "Yessss! He shoots! He scores!"

"This is war, bitch!" Spitting out snow, Dean raced after him, scooping up and packing ice in his own palms. They moved as fast as the wind, chasing and shouting. Tightly packed snowballs struck and shook fully grown trees under the force of their throws. "Over here... ha!"

They wove between the trees, and then Dean couldn't see Sam. He stilled, listening for his still beating heart... and then it was too late. Sam was behind him and a big old ball of ice smacked him in the back of his head. Cursing again, he swung around, this time bodily launching himself at Sam.

Their bodies collided mid-air, so hard it sounded like thunder reverberating in the mountains. Neither of them blinked as they wrestled each other onto the ground. "Sonova..." Dean really had to keep on top of his game because Sam had these practiced moves that could pin him down, and then he'd never hear the end of it.

Sam laughed as they rolled on the snow, first one on top and then the other. "You are so screwed, dude! Might as well give in now," he teased. Soon Dean was on him, pinning him to the ground. Sam grinned up at him, breaths panting out from wrestling. His eyes danced and glittered as he looked up at Dean, "You think you've won, don't ya?" Sam asked him.

He huffed and shook his head, snow clinging to his hair, "I've gotten out of this move before. Remember, I had to train for hours doing this kind of stuff," Sam told him, grinning wide. With a grunt, Sam tried to buck his hips and dislodge Dean from his spot on top of him, only Dean didn't seem to be moving like he was suppose to.

"Training, yeah... I'll show you training, fledgling," he mocked, licking across the seam of Sam’s mouth as he pressed bodily down. "Say it... mercy..." He had Sam's arms pinned, and was proceeding to blow in his ear. "'Mercy'... its easy, say it."

Sam growled as he started to thrash, bucking his hips harder. "You call that teasing!? I've been teased better than that by a woman in white! Is that all you've got!?"

"Show you what I got," Dean growled, nipping Sam's throat, gripping his delicate skin between his teeth. The combination of lust for Sam's blood, and the sensation of his squirming body was getting him hot, and he hoped he could resist giving in to his body’s needs long enough to make Sam give in. "Say it... and we'll both get what we want. Out here, in the open, in the snow Sam... melt a lot of snow." He didn't loosen his iron grip, not even for an instance, knowing Sam would be quick to try to slip away.

Sam wiggled and thrashed under Dean, his hips bucking, body squirming, teeth clenched. "Yeah, we'll make snow melt, after you admit that I can kick your ass!"

"When hell freezes over. Come on, just fucking say it so we can--"

Sam was still squirming still struggling, when suddenly, Dean was thrown off of him, landing high in the air, back slamming into a tree. Sam stilled instantly as he blinked up at him in confusion. "D-Dean?"

"Sam?" Dean found himself pinned to the dammed tree, arms and legs free to thrash but defying gravity by hanging in the air. Feeling ridiculous, he frowned. "Very funny. Just when did you learn you had this... this power. And may I add its not fair fighting, this does NOT mean you win."


Sam's lips slowly curved into a smile and he giggled, actually giggled as he crossed his arms over his chest, laying there in the snow looking up at Dean. "I didn't know. Just as surprised as you are." he chuckled, "Dude, you're cute hanging there like a little rag doll. Say it.. say uncle. Say I win. Say, Sam you’re my master, he laughed.

"Fuck you... let me down." He wasn't really mad, maybe a bit frustrated. "Dude you're too old to be making snow angels, now get me down."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, "Sticks and stones, lover, sticks and stones. Say it and I'll let you down. Say, Sam you are my master, my hero and you win," he grinned wide.

"Uncle." That was about as far as he would go, as his eyes locked with Sam's.

Sam tilted his head to the side again in the snow, "Mm, I dunno..." he narrowed his eyes, "I think I like the Master idea." he told him with a smirk.

"Jerk." Still unable to get off the tree, he relented. "Master... and I'm expecting master/slave sex later... gonna day dream on it and let you know how it's going down." It did have some appeal... lots of room for fun.

Sam chuckled. "Okay, fine." He released his hold on Dean and watched as he fell to the snow with a soft =thoop= sound as Dean sank into the snowbank. Sam lay laughing, one hand rising to cover his mouth as he laughed hard, rolling from side to side in the snow.

"Ha ha, funny," Dean stood, shaking the snow off and looking up at the offending tree, having half a mind to kick it over. "So... you eat disgusting human food, me, and now you have TK. I have a feeling that life with you isn't gonna be boring." Eyeing him much like a cat might watch a moth, he pounced suddenly, landing right on top of Sam so hard they both sank deep into the snow. "Now... who's the master?" he growled, covering Sam's mouth with his in a heated kiss.

* * *

Two weeks later, Sam Winchester and Dean Cullen were definitely together. There were whispers of how much like the Cullens Sam had become, but what Dean liked best was how human Sam was in many way. He was pale, but nowhere near as pale as the rest of them. He'd gained strength and speed, and he did need blood to survive, but he wouldn't kill animals. He opted to feed from Dean which was just fine with Dean because ... fuck, feeding from each other was the most erotic thing out there.

He'd met Sam's great aunt, and after getting the talk about treating her nephew right or else she’d introduce him to some police officer friends she’d met from working at the coroners for so long, they became good friends. Apparently, unlike the 'youth of today,' he knew a thing or two about history and was worth talking to. Luckily Sam was a natural geek and could join in.

They spent their nights together, either at the Cullens, or at Sam's, and Dean no longer had any reason to be bored at night. When they played their web cam games, it always ended the same, one of them jumped through the window into the others' room.

Dr. Cullen and Esme accepted Sam into the family, as did the rest of the vampires. Rosalie told Sam she was jealous of his ability to have one foot in each of their worlds, but she was glad for him.

Carlisle thought that the demon blood in Sam, the same thing that had immunized him from other things, including the usual pain that came from changing into a vampire, kept him in a half human/half vampire state. He'd studied Sam's blood and concluded that like the rest of them, Sam wouldn't grow older.

The treaty between the Cullens and the Res held. Trevor hadn't been killed, but he'd been turned over to the council. Even though it was after the fact, Carlisle had managed to negotiate an exception to the treaty's bans against Cullens entering the Res lands and biting humans. These concessions were couched as compensation for the severe injuries caused by the werewolf to Sam. Realizing Trevor had mental issues, the Council had promised to do whatever was necessary to keep the world safe from Trevor.

Now, Dean had Sam's car detailed and shined up, and stood leaning against it as he waited for Sam to come out of class. Seeing his lover walk out with Alice, he shouldn't have been surprised. If he couldn't read his sister like a book, he might have been jealous. Just a little... okay maybe he was, which was dumb.

"Since you won't let me buy you a real car..." Dean grinned.

Alice smiled, but mentally shared her news that John Winchester was on his way to Forks.

The smile was wiped off Dean's face. "Oh, shit..."


Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, before glancing back at Alice, "I take it you told him?" Sam sighed and looked back at Dean, "So, my father is coming and all you can say is 'oh shit'? Gee, thanks, man." Sam teased him, though he knew this was serious, knew why Dean was worried.

"Look, nothing is going to happen, Dean. I won't let it. Believe me. I can make certain that it doesn't." he stepped closer to Dean, grabbing the front of his jacket and leaning in, his mouth near Dean's ear, "Remember what I told you." he whispered, "You jet and I leave. Forever. I'm not going through that again." Sam pulled back and looked into Dean's eyes.

Dean stiffened. "Alice?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, I'm trying to see, but I don't know."

He turned to look at Sam. "It's not the same. I could just leave until he does. I don't want to risk this, Sam."

Sam clinched his jaw, muscle twitching as he gave a single shake of his head, "No. You go, I go. You don't want to be here when he comes to town," Sam nodded, "fine, we'll leave. Go somewhere else. My Aunt can tell my Dad we left."

"Sam be reasonable." Seeing the stubborn tilt of his jaw, Dean swore up a storm. "Alice..." Seeing no help from that quarter as she left, he swore again. "Alright. Alright Sam, because nothing should separate you from your family, and I'm not going to be the cause but, Goddammit, what if..."

Sam leaned in, pressed a kiss to Dean's jaw, "It won't." he told him, taking his hand in his and giving it a squeeze, "trust me. I can handle my Dad. Been doing it all my life."

Dean didn't answer that. "Miss Appleby is asking herself what happened, here she thought you were a nice boy.'"

Sam smirked and leaned in closer to Dean, not bothering to look at the teacher. "Do you think I'm a nice boy?" he chuckled.

"I think you're a very nice boy." Opening the door to the Impala, he practically shoved Sam inside. "Meet me at mine... don't drive like a granny in your granny car. I'm giving you a head start." He started pulling back, but then added, "and Sammy... be a nice boy and have your clothes off for me."

* * *


John Winchester stood on his aunt's porch, waiting for his boy, one leg slightly raised and resting on a box that had been delivered to the house. You could barely tell that he was smiling when the Impala pulled up. The fancy sports car pulling up behind it surprised him, but Sam was good at making friends. Too good at it.


Sam turned off the engine, saying a quick small prayer that his dad wasn't... well, his dad, then opened the car door and slid from behind the wheel. The door gave it's familiar creek and groan as he opened it, then shut it behind him, leaning back against the car as he waited for Dean to walk up to him.

Sam gave Dean a meaningful look, one meant to let him know it was going to be okay, as he reached for Dean's hand, lacing his fingers through Dean's before turning to walk toward his Dad. "Hi, Dad." Sam called out to him as they walked up. Sam glanced down at the ground, at the porch and the box his dad's foot rested on, before he looked up again. "The problem was taken care of already dad. It's fine now," he told him, talking in code the way they did when around other people, innocent people. No need to tell his dad Dean was a vampire unless it was absolutely necessary.

John Winchester looked his son up and down, bluntly looking at his boy's hand clasping the other boy’s. "Boy, you got something to tell me?" His gaze shifted to the outsider, taking in his too pale features, the slight shadows under his eyes, and the mesmerizing, unnaturally bright eyes. His hunters senses were on full alert, even as his mind worked on the other issue with his son.

Sam hung his head as his grip tightened on Dean's hand. Taking a deep breath, Sam looked back up. "Yes, sir. This," he glanced at Dean and smiled softly, before looking back at his dad, "is Dean Cullen, he's my boyfriend." He cleared his throat and looked away.

As Dean stretched his hand out, he was damned sure that John Winchester wasn't going to be half as easy to charm as his aunt. Even as the man gripped his hand in a tight grasp, he knew he was being evaluated. The guy had a poker face, but as Dean prodded his thoughts, he tensed. "Nice to meet you, sir. I know what you're thinking, but maybe if you gave us a chance to explain."

Sam raised his head and looked over at Dean, jaw clenched. Don't read his mind, don't read his mind.

John's eyes got as dark as any vampire eyes Dean had ever seen. He let Sam's hand go, knowing John might blow his top any moment.

As Dean let go of his hand, Sam looked back at his father, stepping slightly forward and between Dean and his dad, swallowing hard as his leg shook nervously.

John didn't answer, and merely nodded for them to go inside, but grabbed Sam's arm before Sam could follow Dean inside.

Sam stopped abruptly, looking at his dad. "I know, Dad. He's a guy and you didn't think that I...." Sam sighed, licked his lips, "I should have told you sooner... my feelings about this kind of thing, I guess." He glanced toward the door where Dean had walked through, swallowing. Please don't ask about anything else, please don't notice. Please.

"There was no this kind of thing. What about Stephanie, holy hell son, we moved but it was only a year ago. " John's jaw tightened. "Do you know what that thing is?" he demanded, still holding onto his son. "It's done something to you. Now go and get into the car." Expecting no argument, the older man started for the door.

Sam stood his ground, shook his head as he raised it, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, "No. I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here... in Forks, with Dean. And yes, I know exactly what he is. He's warm, caring and funny and smart and I love him."

"You've lost your mind, it is cold as ice. Now get your ass in the car like I told you," John shouted, practically shoving Sam down the porch stairs. "We'll talk about this afterwards." Not giving Sam a choice, he strode inside and turned the deadbolt. His stuff was right near the door and he had the machete in his hand as he headed into the living room. "Where are you hiding, I know you can hear me."

Sam glared angrily at the door that was shut in his face when he marched back up the stairs to argue with his father. If he broke it, great aunt Cathleen would have a cow...


"I'm not hiding." Dean was sitting on the sofa with his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up. "Not all of us are... evil," he said using terms he knew Winchester would understand.

"You're not dangerous," sarcasm dripped from John, who expected Dean to strike at any moment.

Dean had no answer to that. "I'd never hurt him."

Sam tried the door again, for the tenth time, screamed again for the hundredth time, telling his father he wasn't leaving, to get out there and face him, leave Dean alone. That was when he had heard the sound of punches. "Dean!" Sam shouted his name, eyes wide.


"You already have," John roared, striking with a closed fist, and striking again. "Son of bitch," he roared at the pain shooting up his fist and arm, as if he'd hit immovable rock. He raised the machete, noting but not caring that Dean merely sat there, waiting.

"Dean!" Sam shouted his name as he turned slightly, ramming his shoulder against the door. The door not only opened, but snapped off it's hinges, wood and insulation from the other side of the wall, where the dead bolt had torn out, raining down. Sam stood there in the doorway glaring at his dad, who was visible through the arch to the livingroom,

"Get away from him!" With those words, John Winchester went flying backward, his back hitting the wall across the room.

Sam went to Dean then, kneeling next to him, as he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. "I'm not leaving, Dean's a vampire," Sam turned his head to look at his father, "And so am I." he told him, eyes narrowed, "If you kill him, you need to kill me too."

"You know he can't hurt me," Dean whispered, reassuring Sam. The only thing he'd been worried about was Alice's prior predictions, and keeping his temper so it wouldn't come true. It was tough sitting there and accepting a pounding, fighting against anger and the rising need for blood.

John scrambled up, the machete still in his hand. Eyes wild, he looked at his son. "No... no, you can't be, you're Sam... my little boy." Even as the words of denial dripped from his lips, the door, the way he'd been thrown off the other vampire, those things told him something was afoot. Unafraid, he walked to his son and grabbed him, pulling him up. "What have you done? Sam what the fuck have you done?" he roared, touching his son's skin and confirming he wasn't a vampire. "What is this?"

Sam looked at his dad as he was pulled to his feet, glancing at Dean.

Dean stood up, moved away and gave them room. The anger and worry coming in waves from the elder Winchester was hard to miss even if you weren't a mind reader. For Dean, he had only hatred. Not that Dean was surprised.

"This is me, in love... with a vampire. And yes, Dad, I am a vampire. I know I don't feel like one, but I am. I have fangs and I drink blood," he looked toward Dean, "Dean's blood." He looked back at his dad, "Dean turned me to save my life. The night I went to face the werewolf, went alone, because YOU couldn't find the time to come here and help me, because that demon was more important than me, again," he huffed, "I was nearly killed, was killed. But, Dean made me into what he is and brought me back. If you want to hate Dean, fine. But, you need to hate me too then. He saved me, dad. How is that evil?"

"I told you to hunker down and wait for me. And that thing killed your mother, I will hunt it down and kill it, like I hunt down every other evil sonovabitch out there." The words were heavy, hanging between them. He grabbed his son's jacket, "drinking blood. Fangs. How is that NOT evil, how?" His fingers flexed around the metal, his nostrils flaring.

Sam didn't answer, only continued to look at his dad, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, eyes hard, narrowed.

Dean took a step towards them. John couldn't hurt Sam, but there was more than physical pain. "He's your son. He's still your son. If you took the time to talk to him, to listen, you'd see that. He's the only thing you have left in the world, and no, he's not evil." Dean frowned, "why would you think that?"

John's eyes shifted to Dean's. He'd just been thinking about what the demon had done to his son, wondered whether its effects were kicking in. "This is family business, my family's. Keep out of it," he snarled, whirling back on Sam.

"Dean is my family now too. And he's right, I'm not evil, neither is he. There are things that go bump in the night, dad, that aren't evil. Just like Rachel." Sam told him, referring to the vampire girl he had let live, the girl his dad had chewed his ass about for days after.

"Let go of me." Sam told him, glancing down at his dad's hand on his jacket. Looking into his dad's face, Sam huffed and shook his head, "I won't even drink animal blood. That's what Dean drinks, you know. Animal blood. He tried showing me how and I just couldn't do it. How evil is that? Can't even kill an animal," he spat, eyes narrowed, "Why don't you tell Dean the real reason you say that. Tell him how you blame me. Don't lie Dad, I've seen the way you look at me. You blame me for mom." Sam shook his head, "I was just a baby. I didn't do anything." he jerked away from his dad's grasp.

"What a fool thing to say! I have NEVER blamed you Sammy, never," John exploded, back in his son's face. "I blame that monster, only that monster, not you, NOT you." His nostrils started to flare again, and he didn't miss the fact that his son looked equally angry. "And I didn't say anything."

"Tell him all of it," Dean said softly. "He needs to hear the truth. He needs to know."

"I told you to keep out of this," John snarled, dropping his weapon finally.

"That's not gonna happen. Yes, I can, I can keep him safe... No, that thing won't get to him, we'll protect him, all of us... you, me, my family too." Dean answered every mental thought that passed through John's head.

Sam looked back and forth between Dean and his father frowning hard, "WORDS! Words would be nice! Some of us can't just read people's thoughts, Dean!" he looked back at his dad, "Care to elaborate? What is he talking about?"


"It's not just revenge, that's part of it, but not all of it." The hunter heavily sat down, looking up at his son. Had he done wrong by his son? Probably.

"You did your best," Dean whispered, ignoring the look Sam shot him.

John was good at ignoring too and didn't look as if he'd heard. "The yellow eyed demon, it's still after you. Some time, some place, it'll come to claim you. That's why I hunt it... because it's not going to get its hands on one more member of my family. You're all I have." He closed his eyes. "I was close... so damned close."

Sam closed his eyes, feeling as though his worst nightmare had just been confirmed... and in a way, it had, hadn't it?

He huffed, turning his head, as he opened his eyes. "It's what my nightmares always are about," he told his dad softly, "about him coming back to get me." Sam nodded, as he leaned back against the wall, licked his lips. He raised a hand, pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, eyes squeezed tightly closed, before his hand dropped, eyes opening again.

"How long have you known... that it would come back for me?" Sam asked.

"In my gut? Always." John Winchester's face was grim. "Confirmed... knowing he's going to somehow try to influence you, make you evil," his eyes flicked to Dean's... he was the one who'd let that cat out of the bag. "A couple years. But I won't let him get you Sam. I got a weapon... it can kill any demon," his gaze flicked once again to Dean.

Sam's eyes went toward the ceiling, lips parted, eyes wet, shiny. He frowned, sniffled, nodding as he looked back down, staring off into nothingness. "Well, I'm not running anymore. I'll be right here. In Forks. If he's coming, I guess he won't have far to look." His eyes slid to his dad, "A weapon?"

"Won't work on me," Dean answered John's silent thought. "Not demon."

The older Winchester nodded, his jaw tightening. "A colt. A special one."

Sam pulled away from the wall and walked over to stand between his dad and Dean. "You need to stop," he told his dad, before continuing on, changing the topic back to something more important than 'killing Dean'.

"A colt? You have it, with you? Now?" a small smile tugged at his lips as he looked back at Dean, "I remember when I was like, five... I told him I was afraid of the thing in my closet," he looked back at his dad, even as he spoke to Dean, "He gave me a .45." Sam shook his head, snickering softly. "Let's see this demon killing gun, dad."

Raising his brow and tilting his head in a 'so that's it' gesture, Dean muttered, "no wonder you laugh in the face of death." Thank God he was a vampire now, or Dean might have had to watch over him every moment of the day.

Still undecided about the situation, John told Sam to get it from his duffel, near the door. The moment his son left the room, he asked. "Did you give him a choice?"

Dean didn't answer.

"I said did you give my son a choice," John's voice boomed.

He shook his head ‘no’, bracing for another round of shouting. "My father gave me the choice." He met John's eyes. "He said ‘turn him or say goodbye’." Dean's voice grew husky as he remembered that moment. "I couldn't fucki... I couldn't say goodbye."

Sam paused as he crouched next to his dad's duffel, his hand inside the bag as he listened to Dean and his dad talk. With a sigh, he pulled up and walked back into the room, carrying the colt in his hand, frowning down at it. He looked up a his dad, then back at the gun, "So, what makes this so special. Looks like any other gun."


"I don't know, other than it works on the sons of bitches."

Dean got up. "I'm gonna head home. It was ... interesting meeting you," he knew better than to bullshit the man. "Goodnight."

When Sam grabbed his arm, he shook his head. "Just home, Sam. And I'll be here at breakfast, I promise. You have stuff to talk over with your dad."

Sam frowned at Dean as he stepped more in front of him, "I don't want you to go." He licked his lips, "I heard what you said. About changing me." His hand moved to grasp Dean's. "You did good, I asked you to do it before, remember?"

Sam looked over at his dad, "I did. I asked Dean to turn me before," he shook his head, "But he wouldn't do it." Sam looked back at Dean, golden hazel looking into green/gold, "Because he's not evil, he's not bad, he's a good person, " He looked over at his dad, "and if you'd give him half a chance you'd know that."

Sam looked back at Dean then, leaned in, his mouth near Dean's ear as he whispered, "Stay. I'll go home with you, we'll lay together tonight, under the stars," he smiled, "naked."

"No, you stay with him, bond. I'll come back when you're in your room and we can fuck like bunnies right under his nose," Dean grinned, and defiantly hugged him once. "In the morning, I'll see you then."

"Okay," he answered softly grabbing Dean's jacket and kissing his lips softly once before letting go, not caring if his dad saw or not. "G'night."

"Always pushing that envelope," Dean muttered, grinning as he walked out to let the Winchesters work their problems out.

* * *

Sam was just rounding the corner toward his aunt’s house, having been out running errands for her. She'd left him a note and asked if he could do them and seeing as Dean had been busy himself... Sam had went to take care of them.

Panic slammed into Sam as he pulled the Impala into the driveway and saw Dean's Lamborghini and his dad's truck in the driveway. "Oh shit!" Sam parked the car and was out of it, almost before the engine shut off, running toward the house.

He was to the door and inside so fast he didn't even have time to finish the horrid scenarios that had begun to play in his head. His father didn’t even turned his head to look at him as he sat in the rocker recliner, his attention on the television. Beside him, on the couch was Dean, both men had a beer can in their hands, their eyes on the football game.

Sam stalked over to Dean, snatching the beer can out of his hand and taking a long drink before he glared from his dad to Dean and back, "What the hell is going on!? What is this!?"

Dean didn't mind at all that Sam had taken the beer, he'd been holding it as a prop anyway. "Game," Dean nodded toward the t.v. as if Sam couldn't see for himself. "It's a close one, pull up a chair."

John lifted his beer to his mouth and didn't react to his son's glare. "Sam was always more into soccer."

"Huh." Dean gave him a contemplative look.

Sam looked from his dad to Dean, and narrowed his eyes at the 'huh', "What the hell is this? Are you two trying to give me a heart attack!? An aneurysm!? Not two days ago you wanted to kill him, dad! And you were scared you'd do something stupid, Dean! Now you two drink beer and watch football!?" Sam raised a hand to his forehead, "I'm in the fucking Twilight Zone," he mumbled, taking another drink of beer, and collapsing onto the couch beside Dean.

"Dude, calm down. It's a good game." Dean slapped him on the shoulder. "But you'd better eat an early dinner."

"That's right. We're invited to the Cullen's for drinks. Cathleen too," John said casually.

Sam's eyes widened and he nearly spewed the beer he had in his mouth, instead he coughed and sputtered.

You invited MY DAD to your HOME!?

"Seriously, machete's aren't necessary," Dean said, answering John’s mental thought again.

See!? Sam’s expression reflected his thoughts.

John grimaced. "This mind reading of yours is very irritating."

"Not being able to read Sam, now that's irritating."

"I hear you," John raised his can up in salute, as they both laughed and looked at Sam.

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, "I suddenly don't think I feel so good."

"You smell good," Dean whispered, his face all innocence, but his eyes sparking with evil. "What could go wrong?" Dean didn't add that thankfully Sam's family wasn't accident prone like Bella so it was unlikely they'd have a ‘shattered glass and blood splatter’ finale to the evening, driving his family to the verge of blood-lust.

"I'm still bringing the machete."

"Alright. And no, the colt won't work on us." Dean started to chuckle when all three men stood up and shouted at the action on the television.

* * *

The day after John Winchester left town to continue his hunt, it was a sunny day in Forks so all the Cullens were ditching class. Dean followed Sam's scent into the Forest near his house and found him shirtless, arms outstretched, with a smile firmly in place.

"If you twirl around, I'll call you a sparkly fairy... a freakishly tall fairy, but sparkly," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Do you want a mirror?"

Sam looked down at himself, then over at Dean grinning, "You got one?" he asked him, quirking a brow, before looking back down at himself, running a hand across his abs, glancing up toward the ray of sun that was shining on him. "It's...everywhere." Sam told him, awe in his voice, as he ran his hand from his abs over to his opposite arm. He looked back over at Dean and grinned, "And yes, I looked there too."

"C'mere, let me look too," Dean crooked a finger, shaking his head.

Sam grinned at Dean as he let his arms drop to his sides and stepped closer to him, pulling Dean into his arms, before taking a step backward so they were more in the direct rays of the sun. "Bette,." Sam told him, leaning in and kissing his lips softly. "So, you wanna see me sparkle now huh? Oh wait... no, you just wanna see my sparkly dick," he chuckled.

"That's it... give it up, Sammy." One tug and Sam's jeans were down to his thighs. "Going commando, huh?" Stepping back, Dean admired the view. "Totally hot. Wonder what it would look like in my mouth." Smiling slyly, he reached out and stroked Sam's cock. "Want me to test it?"

Sam huffed out a small chuckle at Dean's commando comment. He did a lot of things now he’d never done before. He bit his lip at Dean's question, gasped in a breath as Dean started to stroke him, his cock responding immediately. He groaned softly as his eyes closed slowly, before he opened them again, "Yes, God, yes." he answered breathlessly.

"You want me on my knees, between your legs?"

Sam sucked in a breath, nodding. "Yeah, however you want to do it."

"Right here?" Dean moved slightly. "Or here?" He moved another couple feet.

Sam frowned, as he looked at him, bottom lip still caught between straight white teeth. "I don't care."

"Ok. So... you want me to lick you first, before I suck? Or suck you first." His gaze dropped to Sam's sparkling cock, and he wet his lips.

Sam's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "W-why..? Just do it already."

"Okay, sure. But Sam, you want me to start off light... or hard. Makes a difference. I want it to be good for you." He lifted his gaze to Sam's and clamped down on his amusement at the flash of dark in his lover's eyes.

The lust-filled look melted away from Sam's face as he narrowed his eyes at Dean, clenched his jaw tight, muscle twitching. "I don't know, Dean. What do you think I like?" he asked him angrily, quirking a brow before huffing and reaching down, pulling his jeans back up, zipping them and fastening the button. "If you'll excuse me, I was enjoying the sunlight." he stepped around Dean, face tilted up into the suns rays, eyes closed, jaw still clenched.

"Aww, come on." Dean followed and moved in front of Sam, tugging him close by his waistband. "Since when can't you take a little teasing, hmm? I hope you're not getting a vampire temper..." Leaning in, he kissed him, delving his tongue inside Sam's mouth and stroking his pallet, before pulling back. "Are you hungry?" His gaze narrowed, he'd realized that Sam did get moody when he needed to feed.

Sam had his hands on Dean's waist as he kissed him, slowly he slid them around Dean’s back and pulled him in close. "Maybe I just want you," he suggested. Sam nipped Dean's bottom lip, kissed the tip of his chin, his jaw, moving back to his neck slowly. Sam's tongue traced the veins he knew lay just beneath the surface of Dean's skin. Sam moaned softly, his mouth, hot and wet, against Dean's neck, sucking and nipping. "Maybe I am." he murmured against his throat.

"You're definitely hungry. This has to be the equivalent of a vampire on the rag," Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go inside." In the heat of blood-lust, one or both of them were often out of control and he didn't like the thought of being exposed and maybe unable to think fast enough to hide if anyone came around.

Sam's teeth scraped against the tender flesh of Dean's neck, ignoring Dean's comment about vampire's on the rag, he pulled his head up and nodded, "Yeah, okay."

(A/N: sorry for the delay on this chapter... RL!)