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phantismaFandom: SyFy's Alice/Leverage/SPN/Castle
Title: down the rabbit hole
Charcater/Pairings: Eliot/Dean, Sam/Hatter (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3655
Summary: Eliot takes Dean all the way, and when Dean wakes up, he's a new man...and hungry.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um....somewhere along the way, I picked up a vampire!Hatter in my Brain. Then![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
orphan_project "helped" and gave him a Sam. And volunteered Eliot to keep Dean company. And then havenward left me Castle prompts (which can be found here) that somehow became prompts in this verse and resulted in Sam turning Kate Beckett. This follows dizzy with the burn.
This is offered up as a birthday present to my lovelyorphan_project. I hope you like it my dear!
The fever that had flushed his skin seemed to have faded as he slept, not that he felt a whole lot better for the sleeping, but he wasn’t as hot when he crawled up out of twisted up dreams of Sam and sex and some woman in leather and some guy in a hat…and Eliot.
Dean sat up, groaning and rubbing at his head, which felt like sawdust and ash. The room seemed to be empty but for him and a bunch of beer bottles on the floor.
He eased up onto his feet and across to the window, pulling back the curtain only to cringe away from the red glow of a setting sun that was entirely too bright. He’d obviously slept a lot longer than he meant to.
He turned from the window, his head still letting him know it didn’t care for the light, and he picked his way across the hotel room and into the bathroom to relieve himself and start a shower.
It was obvious he needed one, his skin tight and itchy, his ass sore. He exhaled and climbed in under the spray, trying to remember what had happened the night before. There had been sex, that much was obvious. He and Eliot had gone to the bar. Sam was there. Dean ducked his head into the half hearted stream of water.
They had drank…something. And Dean had gotten very drunk, very fast.
He licked his lips. He could almost taste it. Sweet, with a burn that he could still feel. The details kept slipping away under the fog of too much to drink.
Sam. And some woman….and a guy…He shook his head and finished up, stepping out and stopping to listen. Someone was in the room. He eased the bathroom door open, then relaxed when Eliot held up bags of take out.
“Figured you’d be hungry when you finally woke up.”
Dean’s stomach rumbled and he nodded. “Starving. Be right out.” He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist before moving out into the room. Eliot handed him a burger as he passed to sit on the bed.
“I was starting to get worried.” Eliot said, leaning against the door. “You were pretty out of it.”
“I guess I got pretty drunk.” Dean responded, filling his mouth with burger.
“Yeah, but that was two days ago.” Eliot said, making Dean stop before taking another bite. “You got up and threw up, then passed out again. Got up twice to pee, but other than that, you’ve been out. You were burning up for a while.”
He remembered being hot.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I feel fine.” Dean said.
Eliot nodded and pulled a bottle out of one of the bags. “Your brother…” He made a face Dean couldn’t quite make out. “Sam asked that I bring you this.”
The bottle was clearly old and had a hand written label that looked like a child had written on it. All it said was “Tea”.
Dean was off the bed and reaching for it before he realized it. Eliot chuckled, but didn't hand it over. "Maybe we better make sure you're good before we open this."
"Oh, I'm good." Dean respond, reaching for it again. Eliot kept it away from him though, moving and turning until Dean was against the door and held there by Eliot's body.
"I don't know, the last time you had any of this you were pretty bad."
"Me?" Dean shook his head. "Give it to me."
Eliot chuckled and leaned back, pulling the cork from the bottle and pouring some in his mouth. Dean opened his mouth to protest, Eliot covered Dean's mouth with his own, spilling the booze into his mouth. His tongue followed, swirling through the sweet, sticky heat of it and Dean couldn't swallow fast enough.
He was panting when he came up for air. The fire was like a thing alive inside him, feeling its way down his throat and into his stomach, spreading through him. He wanted more. Eliot was backing away, taking the bottle and Dean followed, practically chasing him.
Eliot caught him with his free hand, cupped around the back of Dean's head and drawing him in close to kiss, nipping at his lips until they were tender and swollen and open for him. "Can't have too much…not yet…" Eliot's words filled Dean's mouth and he swallowed as if they were tangible, even if they made no sense. "Not ready…"
"Want." Dean murmured back, vaguely aware he's lost his towel and is naked against Eliot's denim clad leg. "More." It should be wrong…how much he wanted it, the booze and what Eliot was offering…but he couldn't think past the need and he pushed until Eliot was on his back on the bed with Dean straddling him, his cock hard and pushing along Eliot's zipper.
"Little more." Eliot relented, holding the bottle up. Dean opened his mouth and let Eliot pour the dark liquid in, swallowing and chasing after the bottle when he pulled it away.
Dean frowned down at him, but Eliot was laughing and the room was starting to get fuzzy and he had a passing thought that it wasn't exactly booze in that bottle…or maybe it was booze with a little added…something…because he shouldn't feel so…loose after so little….shouldn't want to grab the bottle and…but then Eliot was rolling him and straddling him and Dean wasn't sure where Eliot's clothes went, but the bottle was forgotten momentarily as their bodies slid together and Dean wanted this nearly as badly as the tea.
His back arched as Eliot sank into him, his arms clutching the dirty motel sheets. Eliot took his time, each stroke slow and measured, not like before when everything was frantic and crazy. Dean's skin burned against the cool air of the room, sweat beading up and rolling off his chest. His cock was hard and begging, but Eliot ignored it, focusing his attention on Dean’s ass instead.
When he came, the heat was too much and Dean panted, letting go of the sheets to grab at Eliot. “I’ve got you.” Eliot murmured, falling down to cover Dean with his body. “We have all the time in the world.”
Eliot kept talking, but the words were buzz and distant and he shouldn’t need to sleep more, but darkness seemed so welcoming…
Eliot led with his tongue, laving over the muscle in Dean’s shoulder, sucking lightly over the vein in his neck. Dean’s head falls back against Eliot’s shoulder, his eyes closed. Eliot knows he’s pretty far gone on sex and tea and blood loss, and it is almost time to take him all the way.
He’d held Dean on the brink of orgasm for hours, longer than that. Eliot flexed his hips, pushed up into Dean, into his prostate while his hand moves a little faster over his cock. So close.
It had been hours now since Eliot had bled him last. He sucked a little harder on the skin over the big vein, scraping teeth over skin. Dean, long past even trying to deny his desire for pain, leaned in and the first taste of blood filled Eliot’s mouth like liquid fire.
He eased back before Dean could come, hand pulling off his cock, teeth pulling back from skin before the bite can actually register in Dean’s mind. Eliot licked slowly over the cooling wound as Dean whined high in the back of his throat, his hips thrusting up into Eliot’s hand. Eliot calmed him with one swift, stiff stroke and lifted the bottle to Dean’s lips, letting the taste of the tea distract him, intoxicate him….the burn of it lessoned by the amount of Eliot’s own blood already mixed in.
He thrust up into Dean once, twice more, coming again before giving Dean the last of the tea left in the bottle. Dean slid bonelessly to the wet and messy mattress as Eliot released him, Eliot following, licking at salty skin slick with sweat, spreading him open. Dean offered no resistance as Eliot nuzzled into the joint where thigh and hip met, licking and nipping bruises into the skin.
“So close now, Dean.” Eliot whispered, his voice dark and deep and Dean made an attempt to speak, but he was far enough gone that it came out only as a moan of need. Eliot circled one hand around Dean’s cock and started stroking him. His mouth settled in high on his inner thigh and when he bit Dean reacted with another moan, his body beginning to shake as Eliot drank and stroked in perfect rhythm that dragged Dean slowly along the edge of orgasm and death…..right up to the edge…then Eliot lifted his face, bloody, his mouth full of Dean’s blood.
He kissed Dean, sharing the blood and making sure Dean swallowed, his hand still working Dean’s cock. Then he bit his own tongue, his own lips, and returned to the kiss, spilling into Dean even as Dean’s cock finally spilled its come.
When the convulsions stop, Dean lay still, his eyes mostly closed, his body sprawled across the bed, bloody and marked.
Eliot got up then and let himself into the bathroom to shower. Dean would be out for at least twenty four hours. Eliot was going to need to feed after a week of getting them to this point, with no blood but Dean’s to satisfy him, and that mostly getting burned up in the process of turning him.
He made the shower a quick one, slicking of Dean's sweat and blood and come, then drying and getting dressed. Besides, Hatter would expect an update. He sighed and paused long enough to tame his hair before leaning in to kiss Dean's cooling forehead. He chuckled to himself as he left.
For all that Dean was one of the best Hunters he'd ever seen, it hadn't taken Eliot long to have him so wrapped around his need for what Eliot offered that taking him had been almost too easy.
He left the motel and headed for the bar, knowing that's where they were. The lot of them. Sam was practically bouncing when he spotted Eliot, his eyes sparkling dangerously. Eliot nodded. Sam jumped and grabbed Kate, dancing her off into a corner and shoving her against the wall.
Eliot rolled his eyes and looked at Hatter. "He'll sleep until tomorrow, but it's done."
Hatter's grin was sly and he patted Eliot's face. "There's a good lad. When he wakes, bring him." Hatter said, giggling and jumping up on the chair.
"You forget, I don't answer to you." Eliot growled, suddenly angry with the insane little fuck. "I only did it because your boy is going to need someone who isn't batshit insane keeping an eye on him once you're bored with him."
Hatter jumped onto him, wrapping his legs around Eliot's waist, his momentum spinning them both around. His kiss was wet and messy and it only served to anger Eliot more. He put his hands on Hatter's hips and shoved, nearly sending both of them crashing into the floor.
Once he'd extricated himself, Eliot brushed at his clothes, like he could brush the Hatter off him…but that wasn't likely. Hatter was his penance.
He'd been banished from Wonderland to watch the crazy lunatic, because he was one of the Queen's pretties…fucking insane because the blood that turned him had come from the Queen's own certifiable favorite son.
And Eliot got to tag along to keep him out of trouble because he had the misfortune of being the offspring of the sane one. It shouldn't irritate him as much as it did, at least it got him out of the chaos and constant infighting of court life.
His job was to make sure that Hatter didn't draw too much attention, didn't kill too many or turn too many, and that those he did turn would have someone to watch over them who was responsible and mostly sane when Hatter bored of them.
He still had to figure out what to do about Kate. Sam had snuck off when Eliot wasn't looking and turned her.
Hatter was pouting at him. "I gotta eat, and get back before he wakes up. He's gonna be pissed."
Sam was back, his eyes glittering darkly. "I want him."
"Patience, pet." Hatter placated. "He's napping. We can have fun with him later."
"I don't like waiting." Sam responded, sounding like a petulant child.
"Go play with your toy." Eliot snapped, gesturing at Kate who ducked under Sam's arm and slid up his side. "I'll bring him once he's on his feet."
"I don't like waiting." Sam repeated, poking Eliot in the chest, his tone darker this time.
"Yeah, I know." Eliot looked down at the finger, then up at Sam, who pulled his hand back to grab Kate and pick her up.
Eliot shook his head and left the bar. Dean was going to be pissed…and probably by a lot more than just the fact that Eliot had turned him. He made quick work of feeding himself, but finding someone for Dean was more difficult.
His first feeding needed to be someone healthy and strong, but Dean wasn't going to take to the idea easily…and Eliot needed someone that even Dean couldn't deny needed killing.
He woke to a gnawing hunger, craving…though he couldn't place what he craved…he only knew he was hungry beyond belief. Something was very different, he could feel the air, smell the layers of scents in the room…sweat, sex, piss, stale beer, left over greasy food starting to go bad, dirty clothes…
He opened his eyes slowly to the dark gloom of the room. He sat up just as slowly, his eyes tracking to where Eliot sat on the end of the bed, his bare back to Dean.
"How do you feel?" Eliot asked, not looking at him.
Dean considered the question. "Strange," he responded. He should feel…sore, achy…he remembered being sick, a hot fever and chills, sick to his stomach…but it slipped away when he thought about it. Instead of sore, he felt strong, despite the hunger. He felt better.
"You’ll adjust." Eliot said, his voice oddly dark.
"Adjust?" Dean asked, moving now to get out of bed. He stood, then grabbed for Eliot's shoulder, suddenly light headed.
"Sit, you need to feed, gain your strength."
Dean sank back to the bed. His knees felt like rubber and his head buzzed with the ache of hunger inside him. He inhaled, the smell of Eliot stronger, the scent of sex filling him with desire…but there was something else. They were not alone. Dean’s hand tightened on Eliot’s shoulder.
“Easy.” Eliot stood, his hand coming to press against Dean’s.
He could smell fear. Blood. His nostrils flared and he looked up at Eliot. “What did you do to me?” He could feel it now, the changes…the cooling of his skin, the slowing of his heart to nearly nothing.
“I made you strong.” Eliot responded, pulling back, drawing Dean with him toward the closed bathroom door. “Let me show you.”
The bathroom door opened and there, on the floor cowered a man. The smell of urine and terror temporarily overshadowed the scent of blood, but the blood called out to the hunger within him. Eliot let go of his hand to pull the man up from the floor, tearing his shirt to expose the bite marks already in his skin. “I only took enough to subdue him. The rest is yours.”
Dean shook his head. “What? No.” Anger flushed through him. “What are you?”
Eliot sort of smiled. “I was pretty sure you figured that out the first time you let me cut you.”
Dean closed his eyes against the memory, the sharp blade slipping over his skin, into his skin, the hot spill of his blood onto his flesh, echoed by the come that leaked from his cock, Eliot’s mouth…his tongue chasing the blood, licking it up…his lips stained, his kiss heated…
“Vampire.” Dean whispered.
“Of a sort.” Eliot confirmed, bringing the terrified man closer. “Feed, your body needs it.”
“I can’t.” Dean said, turning away. Eliot moved and the scent of blood grew. The man whimpered. The hunger burned, making it harder to resist.
“He’s a thief and a murderer. Killed an old man for his shoes.” Eliot whispered, pushing Dean into the wall and shoving the man between them. “I know you can smell him, your body craves what he offers. Drink, and I will show you a world you can not begin to imagine.”
Eliot crushed the man into Dean to reach Dean’s mouth with his own, his tongue sliding over Dean’s with the taste of blood. Slowly he pulled back and Dean followed, chasing the taste until Eliot’s mouth was gone and the blood was warm. Dean swallowed and the hunger roared to life. He could not swallow enough to sate it, pulling blood from the gaping wound more swiftly than he could swallow it and it ran over his chin as the man’s body sagged.
Eliot’s tongue swiped up his chin, curling into his mouth with a low growl. He dropped the dying man, taking his place pressed in along Dean’s naked body. “Can you feel it?” Eliot asked.
Dean nodded, but couldn’t talk…he needed more than words. He grabbed Eliot and turned them, shoving him into the wall. Eliot growled and shoved back, until Dean’s back crashed into the sink, cracking it and sending them careening toward the shower.
Dean dug in his feet, his hand snaking into Eliot’s hair to pull his mouth in and pushing them toward the door. They tripped over the body at their feet and landed on the floor in the bedroom, Dean riding Eliot to the floor. His jeans were open, and Dean’s hand slipped inside, grabbing at his hardening dick.
Eliot growled and pulled on Dean’s dick in response. He shoved Dean up and away, rolling up to his feet. Dean followed, the hunger inside him clawing through anything rational, want and need and craving…Dean launched himself at Eliot and they flew back into the door.
The kiss was more teeth than lips, the taste of Eliot’s blood filling his mouth, familiar and hot and Dean swallowed, even as Eliot pulled his head away, pushing Dean’s mouth toward his shoulder. Eliot bit down on Dean’s shoulder and Dean hissed before he understood and bit.
The blood only drove the need to be closer. He pulled, turning them, stumbling back toward the bed and pushing Eliot backward. He had to pull away to get Eliot’s jeans off of him, dripping blood over Eliot’s chest, only to chase after it with his tongue once he’d dropped the pants on the floor. He was surprised to realize he could tell the difference between his own and Eliot’s, but it was a passing thought as he pulled and pushed and opened Eliot wide.
In all they’d done together, Eliot had always been on top, the one fucking Dean, hurting Dean…but he seemed to give in to this easily, tilting his hips up as Dean held his cock and moved into position.
“Come on.” Eliot growled, his feet hooking behind Dean’s ass to pull him in. Dean’s cock breached him, sinking into him. Dean felt the muscles tighten, then relax and took that as the cue to pull out and shove in harder.
Eliot grunted and shoved toward Dean. It was fast and dirty and Dean finished fast, though his cock didn’t even start to soften and the hunger was nowhere near sated.
Eliot smirked as he sat up. “Feel better?”
Dean cracked his neck. “Not really.”
“First few weeks are the hardest. I’ll get you through them.”
“And then what?” Dean asked, looking away. The mirror over the dresser startled him, reflecting back his naked skin, covered in blood…his, Eliot’s…the dead man’s in the bathroom…
“And then…well, by then Hatter should be bored with your brother and I’ll follow him off to the next one.”
Dean frowned, turning to look at Eliot. “My brother? Hatter? What do they have to do with this?”
Eliot sighed. “Hatter is…well, like me…only not. And Sam is…his.”
“His…what?” Dean prompted, frowning harder as Eliot stood and came toward him.
“Lover? Offspring? Thing is, Hatter is…for lack of a better word, insane. Those he turns carry his special brand of insanity. It passes with the blood. It doesn’t help that he tortures them first.”
“Wait. You’re telling me that all this time I’ve been looking for Sam…” Dean shook his head and paced away. “He was here, getting tortured and turned into a …blood sucking freak?”
“The first few months anyway. I wasn’t actually here when Hatter got tired of the playing and decided to turn him. I would have stopped him.”
“Stopped him.” Dean’s head was filled with the image of Sam broken, bent, bloodied. “You mean, you would have killed Sam.”
“Yes. I would have. It’s my job. I clean up after him.”
“Crappy job.” Dean said, pulling a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, well, it’s your crappy job now too.” Eliot responded. “For Sam. You have to keep him from turning anyone, keep him from making too bloody a mess, or clean up after him when he does.”
Dean sort of chuckled. It wasn’t all that different from the rest of his life. Only now, both of them were monsters, like the freaks they’d hunted their whole lives.
And this was Sam. How bad could his little brother be as a vampire? Dean didn’t feel all that different…aside from the surprising lack of guilt over the dead man in his bathroom, and the roaring, aching hunger in his stomach, he felt absolutely amazing.
If Eliot was to be believed, Hatter would soon be gone, and Dean would have his brother back. Everything would be okay again.
Title: down the rabbit hole
Charcater/Pairings: Eliot/Dean, Sam/Hatter (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3655
Summary: Eliot takes Dean all the way, and when Dean wakes up, he's a new man...and hungry.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um....somewhere along the way, I picked up a vampire!Hatter in my Brain. Then
orphan_project "helped" and gave him a Sam. And volunteered Eliot to keep Dean company. And then havenward left me Castle prompts (which can be found here) that somehow became prompts in this verse and resulted in Sam turning Kate Beckett. This follows dizzy with the burn.This is offered up as a birthday present to my lovely
orphan_project. I hope you like it my dear!The fever that had flushed his skin seemed to have faded as he slept, not that he felt a whole lot better for the sleeping, but he wasn’t as hot when he crawled up out of twisted up dreams of Sam and sex and some woman in leather and some guy in a hat…and Eliot.
Dean sat up, groaning and rubbing at his head, which felt like sawdust and ash. The room seemed to be empty but for him and a bunch of beer bottles on the floor.
He eased up onto his feet and across to the window, pulling back the curtain only to cringe away from the red glow of a setting sun that was entirely too bright. He’d obviously slept a lot longer than he meant to.
He turned from the window, his head still letting him know it didn’t care for the light, and he picked his way across the hotel room and into the bathroom to relieve himself and start a shower.
It was obvious he needed one, his skin tight and itchy, his ass sore. He exhaled and climbed in under the spray, trying to remember what had happened the night before. There had been sex, that much was obvious. He and Eliot had gone to the bar. Sam was there. Dean ducked his head into the half hearted stream of water.
They had drank…something. And Dean had gotten very drunk, very fast.
He licked his lips. He could almost taste it. Sweet, with a burn that he could still feel. The details kept slipping away under the fog of too much to drink.
Sam. And some woman….and a guy…He shook his head and finished up, stepping out and stopping to listen. Someone was in the room. He eased the bathroom door open, then relaxed when Eliot held up bags of take out.
“Figured you’d be hungry when you finally woke up.”
Dean’s stomach rumbled and he nodded. “Starving. Be right out.” He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist before moving out into the room. Eliot handed him a burger as he passed to sit on the bed.
“I was starting to get worried.” Eliot said, leaning against the door. “You were pretty out of it.”
“I guess I got pretty drunk.” Dean responded, filling his mouth with burger.
“Yeah, but that was two days ago.” Eliot said, making Dean stop before taking another bite. “You got up and threw up, then passed out again. Got up twice to pee, but other than that, you’ve been out. You were burning up for a while.”
He remembered being hot.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I feel fine.” Dean said.
Eliot nodded and pulled a bottle out of one of the bags. “Your brother…” He made a face Dean couldn’t quite make out. “Sam asked that I bring you this.”
The bottle was clearly old and had a hand written label that looked like a child had written on it. All it said was “Tea”.
Dean was off the bed and reaching for it before he realized it. Eliot chuckled, but didn't hand it over. "Maybe we better make sure you're good before we open this."
"Oh, I'm good." Dean respond, reaching for it again. Eliot kept it away from him though, moving and turning until Dean was against the door and held there by Eliot's body.
"I don't know, the last time you had any of this you were pretty bad."
"Me?" Dean shook his head. "Give it to me."
Eliot chuckled and leaned back, pulling the cork from the bottle and pouring some in his mouth. Dean opened his mouth to protest, Eliot covered Dean's mouth with his own, spilling the booze into his mouth. His tongue followed, swirling through the sweet, sticky heat of it and Dean couldn't swallow fast enough.
He was panting when he came up for air. The fire was like a thing alive inside him, feeling its way down his throat and into his stomach, spreading through him. He wanted more. Eliot was backing away, taking the bottle and Dean followed, practically chasing him.
Eliot caught him with his free hand, cupped around the back of Dean's head and drawing him in close to kiss, nipping at his lips until they were tender and swollen and open for him. "Can't have too much…not yet…" Eliot's words filled Dean's mouth and he swallowed as if they were tangible, even if they made no sense. "Not ready…"
"Want." Dean murmured back, vaguely aware he's lost his towel and is naked against Eliot's denim clad leg. "More." It should be wrong…how much he wanted it, the booze and what Eliot was offering…but he couldn't think past the need and he pushed until Eliot was on his back on the bed with Dean straddling him, his cock hard and pushing along Eliot's zipper.
"Little more." Eliot relented, holding the bottle up. Dean opened his mouth and let Eliot pour the dark liquid in, swallowing and chasing after the bottle when he pulled it away.
Dean frowned down at him, but Eliot was laughing and the room was starting to get fuzzy and he had a passing thought that it wasn't exactly booze in that bottle…or maybe it was booze with a little added…something…because he shouldn't feel so…loose after so little….shouldn't want to grab the bottle and…but then Eliot was rolling him and straddling him and Dean wasn't sure where Eliot's clothes went, but the bottle was forgotten momentarily as their bodies slid together and Dean wanted this nearly as badly as the tea.
His back arched as Eliot sank into him, his arms clutching the dirty motel sheets. Eliot took his time, each stroke slow and measured, not like before when everything was frantic and crazy. Dean's skin burned against the cool air of the room, sweat beading up and rolling off his chest. His cock was hard and begging, but Eliot ignored it, focusing his attention on Dean’s ass instead.
When he came, the heat was too much and Dean panted, letting go of the sheets to grab at Eliot. “I’ve got you.” Eliot murmured, falling down to cover Dean with his body. “We have all the time in the world.”
Eliot kept talking, but the words were buzz and distant and he shouldn’t need to sleep more, but darkness seemed so welcoming…
Eliot led with his tongue, laving over the muscle in Dean’s shoulder, sucking lightly over the vein in his neck. Dean’s head falls back against Eliot’s shoulder, his eyes closed. Eliot knows he’s pretty far gone on sex and tea and blood loss, and it is almost time to take him all the way.
He’d held Dean on the brink of orgasm for hours, longer than that. Eliot flexed his hips, pushed up into Dean, into his prostate while his hand moves a little faster over his cock. So close.
It had been hours now since Eliot had bled him last. He sucked a little harder on the skin over the big vein, scraping teeth over skin. Dean, long past even trying to deny his desire for pain, leaned in and the first taste of blood filled Eliot’s mouth like liquid fire.
He eased back before Dean could come, hand pulling off his cock, teeth pulling back from skin before the bite can actually register in Dean’s mind. Eliot licked slowly over the cooling wound as Dean whined high in the back of his throat, his hips thrusting up into Eliot’s hand. Eliot calmed him with one swift, stiff stroke and lifted the bottle to Dean’s lips, letting the taste of the tea distract him, intoxicate him….the burn of it lessoned by the amount of Eliot’s own blood already mixed in.
He thrust up into Dean once, twice more, coming again before giving Dean the last of the tea left in the bottle. Dean slid bonelessly to the wet and messy mattress as Eliot released him, Eliot following, licking at salty skin slick with sweat, spreading him open. Dean offered no resistance as Eliot nuzzled into the joint where thigh and hip met, licking and nipping bruises into the skin.
“So close now, Dean.” Eliot whispered, his voice dark and deep and Dean made an attempt to speak, but he was far enough gone that it came out only as a moan of need. Eliot circled one hand around Dean’s cock and started stroking him. His mouth settled in high on his inner thigh and when he bit Dean reacted with another moan, his body beginning to shake as Eliot drank and stroked in perfect rhythm that dragged Dean slowly along the edge of orgasm and death…..right up to the edge…then Eliot lifted his face, bloody, his mouth full of Dean’s blood.
He kissed Dean, sharing the blood and making sure Dean swallowed, his hand still working Dean’s cock. Then he bit his own tongue, his own lips, and returned to the kiss, spilling into Dean even as Dean’s cock finally spilled its come.
When the convulsions stop, Dean lay still, his eyes mostly closed, his body sprawled across the bed, bloody and marked.
Eliot got up then and let himself into the bathroom to shower. Dean would be out for at least twenty four hours. Eliot was going to need to feed after a week of getting them to this point, with no blood but Dean’s to satisfy him, and that mostly getting burned up in the process of turning him.
He made the shower a quick one, slicking of Dean's sweat and blood and come, then drying and getting dressed. Besides, Hatter would expect an update. He sighed and paused long enough to tame his hair before leaning in to kiss Dean's cooling forehead. He chuckled to himself as he left.
For all that Dean was one of the best Hunters he'd ever seen, it hadn't taken Eliot long to have him so wrapped around his need for what Eliot offered that taking him had been almost too easy.
He left the motel and headed for the bar, knowing that's where they were. The lot of them. Sam was practically bouncing when he spotted Eliot, his eyes sparkling dangerously. Eliot nodded. Sam jumped and grabbed Kate, dancing her off into a corner and shoving her against the wall.
Eliot rolled his eyes and looked at Hatter. "He'll sleep until tomorrow, but it's done."
Hatter's grin was sly and he patted Eliot's face. "There's a good lad. When he wakes, bring him." Hatter said, giggling and jumping up on the chair.
"You forget, I don't answer to you." Eliot growled, suddenly angry with the insane little fuck. "I only did it because your boy is going to need someone who isn't batshit insane keeping an eye on him once you're bored with him."
Hatter jumped onto him, wrapping his legs around Eliot's waist, his momentum spinning them both around. His kiss was wet and messy and it only served to anger Eliot more. He put his hands on Hatter's hips and shoved, nearly sending both of them crashing into the floor.
Once he'd extricated himself, Eliot brushed at his clothes, like he could brush the Hatter off him…but that wasn't likely. Hatter was his penance.
He'd been banished from Wonderland to watch the crazy lunatic, because he was one of the Queen's pretties…fucking insane because the blood that turned him had come from the Queen's own certifiable favorite son.
And Eliot got to tag along to keep him out of trouble because he had the misfortune of being the offspring of the sane one. It shouldn't irritate him as much as it did, at least it got him out of the chaos and constant infighting of court life.
His job was to make sure that Hatter didn't draw too much attention, didn't kill too many or turn too many, and that those he did turn would have someone to watch over them who was responsible and mostly sane when Hatter bored of them.
He still had to figure out what to do about Kate. Sam had snuck off when Eliot wasn't looking and turned her.
Hatter was pouting at him. "I gotta eat, and get back before he wakes up. He's gonna be pissed."
Sam was back, his eyes glittering darkly. "I want him."
"Patience, pet." Hatter placated. "He's napping. We can have fun with him later."
"I don't like waiting." Sam responded, sounding like a petulant child.
"Go play with your toy." Eliot snapped, gesturing at Kate who ducked under Sam's arm and slid up his side. "I'll bring him once he's on his feet."
"I don't like waiting." Sam repeated, poking Eliot in the chest, his tone darker this time.
"Yeah, I know." Eliot looked down at the finger, then up at Sam, who pulled his hand back to grab Kate and pick her up.
Eliot shook his head and left the bar. Dean was going to be pissed…and probably by a lot more than just the fact that Eliot had turned him. He made quick work of feeding himself, but finding someone for Dean was more difficult.
His first feeding needed to be someone healthy and strong, but Dean wasn't going to take to the idea easily…and Eliot needed someone that even Dean couldn't deny needed killing.
He woke to a gnawing hunger, craving…though he couldn't place what he craved…he only knew he was hungry beyond belief. Something was very different, he could feel the air, smell the layers of scents in the room…sweat, sex, piss, stale beer, left over greasy food starting to go bad, dirty clothes…
He opened his eyes slowly to the dark gloom of the room. He sat up just as slowly, his eyes tracking to where Eliot sat on the end of the bed, his bare back to Dean.
"How do you feel?" Eliot asked, not looking at him.
Dean considered the question. "Strange," he responded. He should feel…sore, achy…he remembered being sick, a hot fever and chills, sick to his stomach…but it slipped away when he thought about it. Instead of sore, he felt strong, despite the hunger. He felt better.
"You’ll adjust." Eliot said, his voice oddly dark.
"Adjust?" Dean asked, moving now to get out of bed. He stood, then grabbed for Eliot's shoulder, suddenly light headed.
"Sit, you need to feed, gain your strength."
Dean sank back to the bed. His knees felt like rubber and his head buzzed with the ache of hunger inside him. He inhaled, the smell of Eliot stronger, the scent of sex filling him with desire…but there was something else. They were not alone. Dean’s hand tightened on Eliot’s shoulder.
“Easy.” Eliot stood, his hand coming to press against Dean’s.
He could smell fear. Blood. His nostrils flared and he looked up at Eliot. “What did you do to me?” He could feel it now, the changes…the cooling of his skin, the slowing of his heart to nearly nothing.
“I made you strong.” Eliot responded, pulling back, drawing Dean with him toward the closed bathroom door. “Let me show you.”
The bathroom door opened and there, on the floor cowered a man. The smell of urine and terror temporarily overshadowed the scent of blood, but the blood called out to the hunger within him. Eliot let go of his hand to pull the man up from the floor, tearing his shirt to expose the bite marks already in his skin. “I only took enough to subdue him. The rest is yours.”
Dean shook his head. “What? No.” Anger flushed through him. “What are you?”
Eliot sort of smiled. “I was pretty sure you figured that out the first time you let me cut you.”
Dean closed his eyes against the memory, the sharp blade slipping over his skin, into his skin, the hot spill of his blood onto his flesh, echoed by the come that leaked from his cock, Eliot’s mouth…his tongue chasing the blood, licking it up…his lips stained, his kiss heated…
“Vampire.” Dean whispered.
“Of a sort.” Eliot confirmed, bringing the terrified man closer. “Feed, your body needs it.”
“I can’t.” Dean said, turning away. Eliot moved and the scent of blood grew. The man whimpered. The hunger burned, making it harder to resist.
“He’s a thief and a murderer. Killed an old man for his shoes.” Eliot whispered, pushing Dean into the wall and shoving the man between them. “I know you can smell him, your body craves what he offers. Drink, and I will show you a world you can not begin to imagine.”
Eliot crushed the man into Dean to reach Dean’s mouth with his own, his tongue sliding over Dean’s with the taste of blood. Slowly he pulled back and Dean followed, chasing the taste until Eliot’s mouth was gone and the blood was warm. Dean swallowed and the hunger roared to life. He could not swallow enough to sate it, pulling blood from the gaping wound more swiftly than he could swallow it and it ran over his chin as the man’s body sagged.
Eliot’s tongue swiped up his chin, curling into his mouth with a low growl. He dropped the dying man, taking his place pressed in along Dean’s naked body. “Can you feel it?” Eliot asked.
Dean nodded, but couldn’t talk…he needed more than words. He grabbed Eliot and turned them, shoving him into the wall. Eliot growled and shoved back, until Dean’s back crashed into the sink, cracking it and sending them careening toward the shower.
Dean dug in his feet, his hand snaking into Eliot’s hair to pull his mouth in and pushing them toward the door. They tripped over the body at their feet and landed on the floor in the bedroom, Dean riding Eliot to the floor. His jeans were open, and Dean’s hand slipped inside, grabbing at his hardening dick.
Eliot growled and pulled on Dean’s dick in response. He shoved Dean up and away, rolling up to his feet. Dean followed, the hunger inside him clawing through anything rational, want and need and craving…Dean launched himself at Eliot and they flew back into the door.
The kiss was more teeth than lips, the taste of Eliot’s blood filling his mouth, familiar and hot and Dean swallowed, even as Eliot pulled his head away, pushing Dean’s mouth toward his shoulder. Eliot bit down on Dean’s shoulder and Dean hissed before he understood and bit.
The blood only drove the need to be closer. He pulled, turning them, stumbling back toward the bed and pushing Eliot backward. He had to pull away to get Eliot’s jeans off of him, dripping blood over Eliot’s chest, only to chase after it with his tongue once he’d dropped the pants on the floor. He was surprised to realize he could tell the difference between his own and Eliot’s, but it was a passing thought as he pulled and pushed and opened Eliot wide.
In all they’d done together, Eliot had always been on top, the one fucking Dean, hurting Dean…but he seemed to give in to this easily, tilting his hips up as Dean held his cock and moved into position.
“Come on.” Eliot growled, his feet hooking behind Dean’s ass to pull him in. Dean’s cock breached him, sinking into him. Dean felt the muscles tighten, then relax and took that as the cue to pull out and shove in harder.
Eliot grunted and shoved toward Dean. It was fast and dirty and Dean finished fast, though his cock didn’t even start to soften and the hunger was nowhere near sated.
Eliot smirked as he sat up. “Feel better?”
Dean cracked his neck. “Not really.”
“First few weeks are the hardest. I’ll get you through them.”
“And then what?” Dean asked, looking away. The mirror over the dresser startled him, reflecting back his naked skin, covered in blood…his, Eliot’s…the dead man’s in the bathroom…
“And then…well, by then Hatter should be bored with your brother and I’ll follow him off to the next one.”
Dean frowned, turning to look at Eliot. “My brother? Hatter? What do they have to do with this?”
Eliot sighed. “Hatter is…well, like me…only not. And Sam is…his.”
“His…what?” Dean prompted, frowning harder as Eliot stood and came toward him.
“Lover? Offspring? Thing is, Hatter is…for lack of a better word, insane. Those he turns carry his special brand of insanity. It passes with the blood. It doesn’t help that he tortures them first.”
“Wait. You’re telling me that all this time I’ve been looking for Sam…” Dean shook his head and paced away. “He was here, getting tortured and turned into a …blood sucking freak?”
“The first few months anyway. I wasn’t actually here when Hatter got tired of the playing and decided to turn him. I would have stopped him.”
“Stopped him.” Dean’s head was filled with the image of Sam broken, bent, bloodied. “You mean, you would have killed Sam.”
“Yes. I would have. It’s my job. I clean up after him.”
“Crappy job.” Dean said, pulling a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, well, it’s your crappy job now too.” Eliot responded. “For Sam. You have to keep him from turning anyone, keep him from making too bloody a mess, or clean up after him when he does.”
Dean sort of chuckled. It wasn’t all that different from the rest of his life. Only now, both of them were monsters, like the freaks they’d hunted their whole lives.
And this was Sam. How bad could his little brother be as a vampire? Dean didn’t feel all that different…aside from the surprising lack of guilt over the dead man in his bathroom, and the roaring, aching hunger in his stomach, he felt absolutely amazing.
If Eliot was to be believed, Hatter would soon be gone, and Dean would have his brother back. Everything would be okay again.
