Being: Sexual

Categories:  Supernaturalfic

Xover: Supernatural/Anita Blake:Vampire Hunter Universe
Pairing: Dean/Jason (and Sam, sorta)
Spoilers: Mention of DMB characters, but after that it goes off on its own little merry way as a total AU.
Rating: NC17 probably. How do I know?
Wordcount: ~9k
Summary: Lucky Jason… once more he’s in the right place at the right time. Familiarity with the Anita Blake Vampire Hunter ‘verse would probably go a long way in total understanding, but hey…it’s still a PWP, however you look at it. I did toy with canon vampire hunting techniques from both universes, so definitely an AU on both sides. I know I’ve played fast and lose with many many rules, so you don’t need to point that part out.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Dean!”

“What!?” Dean threw his hands in the air then slapped them down on the roof of the Impala, glaring at Sam over the top. “It’s not like I went looking for it.”

“Right.” Sam dropped down into the passenger seat and yanked his seatbelt across his lap. “But doesn’t it just figure that I get stuck with crappy, brain-splitting headaches that oh, by the way, come with catastrophic visions, and you get super-fucking-natural SEX!!”

Dean slammed his door and started the car – anxious to put as many miles between himself and St. Louis as possible before sunrise – and stopped to glare over at his brother. “A little louder, Sammy. I don’t think the cab driver two blocks over heard you.”


Three days ago…

“Laissez les bons temps rouler“, indeed.

They were just about caught up on sleep but hadn’t really begun the relaxation part of their R&R. So, when Dean’s cell rang, they both winced.

Sam didn’t have to ask who it was. He could tell by the shifting in Dean’s shoulders. Just a little straighter, eyes just a bit narrower, accompanied by a look of absolute resignation. His suspicions were confirmed when Dean started scribbling on the notepad by the phone then hung up with a final verbal salute of “Yes, sir.”

He wanted to punch the wall, but didn’t really think they could afford the damage fee. Non-stop banishing, burning, and beheading had been their world on a daily basis.

“Let me guess. Since we’re in the area, there’s a voodoo priestess who needs exorcising.” The sarcasm dripped heavily from Sam’s voice.

“First, you’re mixing up your religions and second, it’s not in New Orleans – or Louisiana – or the South. I think you might be interested, though, little brother.” Dean was already pulling clothes out of the dresser drawers, some actually even making it into his duffle as he threw them in the general direction of the bag.

Sam ignored Dean’s reference to his spiritual education. They both knew Sam could recite rituals, exorcisms, and pretty much every rite documented thanks to nights of studying holy books instead of algebra.

“I’m only interested if this job involves killing something in my sleep,” he groused, pulling his own bag from under the bed and tossing it in a nearby chair.

No rest for the wicked he thought, cramming dirty underwear they hadn’t had a chance to wash yet in his duffle.

They finished packing and walked out into the perfect Southern day and immediately threw their arms over their eyes like vampires

“We have got to get day jobs,” Dean mumbled, before sliding into the driver’s side and trying to start the car without touching the scorching steering wheel.

Sam waited, not quite patiently, to hear the reason their first vacation in over a year was aborted so rudely. They’d maneuvered through downtown and Dean had the Impala headed toward Lake Ponchatrain before he spilled.

“Bo called Dad from St. Louis.”

Sam opened one eye and rolled his head around to face Dean. “I thought we didn’t do St. Louis.” This should be interesting.

Dean shrugged and slid dark glasses over his eyes. “I guess we make an exception.” He paused and glanced over at Sam before dropping the final tip. “Our favorite little vamps have found a new playground.”

Sam’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. “Kate and Beth?” A bark of bitter glee followed. “Oh, they are so dead – again,” he said before settling back in his seat for an afternoon nap. The slight breeze off the lake made the temperature almost actually bearable.


“You know, since we have so much in common, I probably won’t even have to waste time flirting. There’ll be this natural attraction. Sparks right off the bat.”

Sam had long passed the eye-roll stage and simply snorted, not even bothering to look at Dean. For the last twenty miles, all his brother had talked about was this Anita chick who supposedly ran St. Louis when it came to the supernatural. According to Bo, she was some sort of uber hunter, which just meant “big ego” to Sam. She and Dean oughta get along just fine.

“Hey, dude! Maybe she’s got a second in command or something I can throw your way.”

Sam wouldn’t – couldn’t – let that slide. “Fuck off, Dean. I don’t want anything you’re throwing.”

As it turned out, Sam didn’t have anything to worry about.


They found their blood-sucking bitches, and then some, alright.

They were headed to Guilty Pleasures, the club where this Anita chick – the Huntress, as Dean called her – hung out. Must be nice, Sam thought. If he was destined to do this hunting thing, being able to live in one place would definitely make it easier to swallow.

They were about four blocks from the club when Dean turned a corner just ahead of Sam, entering an alley just in time to see Kate twisting the head of a young man who was already gracefully sliding to the ground. A girl, no more than sixteen, clung to the brick wall at her back and squealed loud enough to make Sam wince.

Beth – who wasn’t acting so new to the whole vampire game anymore – yanked the girl away from the relative protection of the wall and shadows, into the center of the clutter-strewn pavement, jerked and bent her arm behind her back, causing the squeal to reach ear-piercing proportions. “Will you shut up?” Beth sneered, then taunted with, “Fucking wabbit,” and yanked her arm tighter.

With her back to them – watching Kate dispatch the boyfriend and holding the girl – Beth didn’t see Sam come up behind her with his knife drawn, already dipped in dead man’s blood. She didn’t have a clue what was going on until the slow burn started radiating up her back, then around her neck and over her face, making her look like she was actually blushing. Until her head exploded.

Kate whirled around baring perfectly white, pointed teeth, and hissed at Sam.

“Darlin’, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Dean drawled. “I thought we were gonna hook up.” Kate froze, sparing only a glance at Dean, standing to Sam’s left.

“Do you boys actually know where you are? This is vampire heaven, baby.” Kate shifted and her confident stance told them she was regaining some of her shattered composure at their appearance. She’d barely spared a glance at the ashes of Beth, already blowing off the sidewalk.

Dean slowly stepped to the left, away from Sam, but providing a larger net in which to block Kate’s escape. Sam tightened his grip on the sickle in his right hand, also dosed with blood and ready to do it’s magic. Before he or Dean could react, a flurry of movement erupted from the shadows of the alley and three figures materialized between them and Kate.

“What the fuck?” Dean said, but remained rooted to the spot on the sidewalk, watching in - amazement as two women — one rather short and slight and the other an Amazon if he’d ever seen one – grabbed Kate by the arms, while a man stood behind her, firm hand on her neck.

It was several seconds before Sam realized they were being addressed by the guy whose light grip at Kate’s neck was causing her great distress, although her struggles barely registered with him.

“If you guys’d just follow me back to Guilty Pleasures, I think Anita wants to speak with you.” There was the barest sign of amusement on his face as he nodded at his companions. “Nathaniel and Sylvia will follow with this one.” He looked at Kate like she was some form of insect.

Sam wasn’t sure where to start. He assumed, at least, the new arrivals were allies. He was taken aback to discover that one of Kate’s captors, whom he’d taken for a female was actually a boy – or rather a young man – with a long auburn braid down his back that reached below his waist.

“Uhm. Yeah. So you’re the Hunter’s people?” A slight quirk of the lips was the stranger’s only answer. “We were on our way there, actually.” What else should he say to these bodyguards, or whatever they were?

“I know. I’m Jason. She sent us to bring you to her.” The spokesman of the group wasn’t large. Actually he was rather small for a man, but still taller than the auburn-haired guy he’d called Nathaniel, and downright petite compared to Sam and Dean. Sam guessed he’d top out at 5’7”, and he had the natural grace and a well-toned body of an athlete. Tan and blond – pretty even. Not exactly what Sam would have picked for muscle, though.

Dean stepped forward, putting himself between the small group and Sam. “Hey, cool your jets, Princess.” Dean pointed at Jason, drawing a full helping of attitude into his words. “We’re not trying to invade anyone else’s territory here, but we tracked her and the other one,” his finger waggled at Kate, “to St. Louis and she’s ours to take care of.”

Jason smiled, showing a wide, sensual mouth surrounding white teeth, looking unperturbed by the hostility radiating off of Dean and somewhat less from Sam. Then, he chuffed out a short laugh and shook his head slowly back and forth. “Whatever, dude. Anita’s waiting for you. We’ll be right behind, don’t worry.”


One hour later…

Sam wasn’t sure he wanted to know how deep the weirdness of this city ran and just how they’d managed to piss off half the town in less than a day.

It was their special gift.

Less than twelve hours after crossing the Mississippi, they were being escorted into a club called Guilty Pleasures – which Dean found way too intriguing – by a couple of guys who could have posed for Out and a girl as tall as and possibly more muscular than Dean, who shouldn’t have been able to manhandle that vamp bitch in their dreams.

“Anita wants to see you,” is all Jason had said. Sam was curious about this kid, then revised kid to man, realizing he was older than Sam – somewhere between his and Dean’s ages.

Jason was wearing a black mesh tank top and leather pants that looked like he’d been melted and poured into, which were a bit incongruous with his bare feet. Sam privately thought he looked more like a rent boy than a bodyguard.

He wasn’t even going to try to figure out Nathaniel and Sylvia, although he was curious about the faint scent of vanilla coming from one of them.

And, oh yeah, Dean and Anita? They got along just fine. Sam didn’t try too hard to hide the smirk behind a hand curved over his mouth. No, the current state of affairs wasn’t really funny, but he wanted so badly to say to Dean, “Yeah, bro, you got sparks.”

Sam understood the severity of their situation, but it was good to see Dean being not just rejected, but cussed out and threatened by the woman he expected to have a natural attraction with.

He just couldn’t see how this night was going to end well. They’d come into another hunter’s territory. A strong hunter with apparently more powers than they had – or wanted — and had somehow managed to ruffle her feathers with no effort at all.

Then, as if Sam’d conjured it up, that fear of things getting worse became very real. Except, he’d have never seen this coming in a hundred years of visions.

Sam watched Dean and Anita talking heatedly at each other, Dean practically screaming to be heard over the angry protests of their hostess while Sam was trying to defuse the situation before Jean Claude – the freaky guy with an unhealthy pallor and piercing blue eyes – decided to step in. And there was no doubt in Sam’s mind whose side he’d be on.

Then, everyone in their group was freaking out. Except him.

Anita had paused for a second to catch her breath, the better to berate them for third rate monster-hunter wannabes, but before she could open her mouth again, even in the dim light of the club, Sam could see the flush swimming across her flesh from bared shoulders and neck, all the way up to her face, not even stopping at the roots of her hair.

“Fuck,” she gasped before dropping heavily into the chair next to Jean Claude, the club’s owner. She shook her head slowly, back and forth, looking confused and a little pissed off by whatever had decked her but good, then she stiffened, as her knuckles whitened and her hands gripped the chair arm until Sam heard the wood crack and splinter beneath her fingers.

No less than three scantily-clothed, well-muscled men rushed to her side, but did not, Sam noticed, touch her. That honor seemed to belong only to Jean Claude. Sam never even saw him move, but there he was, bent over her kneeling form, arms enveloping her to him and murmuring soft soothing noises.

“Remove these two…gentlemen,” he ordered and when no one moved quickly enough, a barked, “Now!” followed.

Sam was all over that idea. If it took Anita’s sudden illness to get them out of there without at least a few broken bones and several pints of lost blood, that was just fine by him.

Two of the bodyguards who’d been standing behind Jean Claude and Anita began moving toward them and Sam opened his mouth to let them know force wasn’t really necessary, when he heard Dean’s grunt behind him. Actually, it was more like a gasp cut off in mid-breath and Sam swore he felt the heat radiating off his brother across the couple of feet separating them.

He whipped around, ready to take out whoever had sucker-punched Dean, but froze and stared at him instead. His brother hadn’t been hit, or even touched as far as Sam could see. He stood slightly bent over, lips parted and sweat already trickling down his temples, turning his hair dark and slick. Dean gritted his teeth and reached down to palm his groin, pressing hard while his hips ground up into his curled fingers.


“Fuck,” Dean gasped.

Sam noticed his brother’s face, while not quite as flushed as Anita’s, glowed pink and shiny with perspiration. Sam hadn’t seen a look like that on Dean’s face since he’d accidentally racked his balls in high school while wrestling.


Dean felt like he was smothering in the warm silk cocoon of the most sensuously sexual yet oppressive feeling he’d ever encountered, and realized it was a toss up as to whether he was going to embarrass himself by puking on the polished floor of the club or coming in his pants like a thirteen-year-old boy.

His world narrowed in as if he was rushing down a tunnel. Narrowed to the firm grip on his arm, holding him up, accompanied by an animal musk traveling straight down his spine from his brain, to settle in his balls, making them heavy with a need that was almost painful. The rest of the room – the world – didn’t exist.

“We have to get him out of here.” The sweet, warm huff of air caressed his ear as someone spoke urgently. He thought the voice belonged to the hard body supporting him on one side – the guy called Jason. He was vaguely aware of his brother’s voice, raised in panic, but couldn’t stop himself from rubbing shamelessly up again Jason’s body.

“Use one of the rooms.” Even heavily accented, that voice sounded bored and rather put out.

Fuck him. He wasn’t the one who’d just lost damned near all control of his body, and possibly his mind, Dean thought before a new wave of intense lust rushed up and all thought but the growing need fled like the sun chasing shadows.

It expanded this craving he didn’t know what to do with, filling every vein, every muscle, every pore until he felt it oozing from his skin.

Strong arms holding him up began to pull him along and he followed blindly – he didn’t have the will or desire to fight. On the contrary, Dean clung tightly to Jason, afraid he would lose the warm contact of flesh. He thought he recognized Sam’s voice, urgent and distressed, and he wanted to reassure him, but his brain just wouldn’t focus on the words.

It wasn’t like anyone had ever died of horniness, but in his current condition, Dean thought he just might be the first.

“What the fuck is happening to him? What’s causing this and how do we fix it?” Alarm edged Sam’s usually solid voice, emphasizing the rapid-fire questions he shot at Jason.

You do nothing. Except maybe chill out. He’s not going to die and I know what to do.”

Dean leaned into the broad chest from where the delicious rumble of Jason’s calm tone came with only a second’s wonder that he felt more drawn to him than his brother. Jason sounded so confident and Dean felt so overwhelmed. His head lolled and he inhaled deeply before deep, dark blue eyes looked right through him, causing the aching want to rise once more and catch in his throat, almost choking him with desire.

“Hey,” Jason’s voice pierced the thick fog. Then he felt Jason’s cool hand along the side of his face just before he let his fingers run into and tug on Dean’s short hair. “Stay with me, dude. You do not want to be out here right now.”

Dean shoved himself more upright, leaning less on Jason and maneuvering under his own power. He was torn between trusting Jason to help him, giving in to the magnetism of his presence and his voice, and attempting to get him and Sam the hell out of there.

A short pause while a door was opened and he was tugged inside cool dimness and lowered to a soft seat that felt as smooth and velvety as the wave upon wave of desire that had become his world.

“Man, you’re going to need something pretty quick here.” Jason sounded almost amused, but Dean could also see sympathy in his twinkling blue eyes. “Just let me take care of this and it’ll all be okay,” he assured. “I promise.” He patted Dean on the chest and sat beside him on the sofa.

Dean’s reaction to Jason’s words, to his smell, was immediate. They made the ache lurch like an energy punch, into his stomach and downward. All he wanted to do was curl around Jason’s body, feeling every inch of skin on skin that he could manage.

At this moment, he knew he would follow this man who spoke with confidence and calm, and made him feel safe with his teasing manner, to wherever he would lead him.

A gut-wrenching tug, like they were somehow tied together, yanked Dean back to awareness when Jason left his side.

That and the sound of Sam and Jason speaking soft and urgent caused a feeling of panic to grow inside Dean’s chest and he tried to sit up, narrowing his eyes to focus on the problem.

“Sam?” His voice sounded rough and gravelly.

Jason lay a restraining hand on Sam’s arm and Dean wasn’t really surprised to see his brother clench his free hand into a fist, ready to use the only weapon he had left.

“Listen up, Sam, and calm the fuck down!” Dean listened to Jason, trying to understand and barely registering the words. “I know what’s wrong. And I can fix it, but…” he paused “I don’t know if you want to stay in here while I do.”

Dean knew what he needed alright. He needed Jason to come back to him, to touch him, speak to him in that warm velvet voice, feel his body press close. He wanted his mouth, he wanted to be kissed and licked and sucked right down.

Erotic thoughts made him groan aloud with that need.

Sam seemed to being having none of Jason’s reassurances. “No fucking way am I leaving this room. Now tell me right now…what did that bitch do to him?” He sounded no less upset, but Jason’s touch and words grounded and calmed Sam visibly, just as Dean yearned for them to be directed at him once more.

More urgent whispers, Sam’s voice raised, then lowered again. “You’re shitting me!”

Once Jason was back at his side, all was right again and his world narrowed down once more to the man above him and his own hard and throbbing dick.

“I know, babe. I know what you need.” Jason’s words were as seductive as his touch and Dean moaned while a part of his brain wanted to growl that he was not Jason’s babe. Jason seemed to read that since he tossed his blond hair out of his eyes before leaning over and playfully tugging one of Dean’s nipples between his teeth, leaving a large wet spot on his shirt.

Dean decided to go with the moan.

Peripherally, he saw Sam move into the room, closing the door and latching it behind him. Sam leaned against the stone walls, arms crossed over his chest, watching…protecting him.

Jason glanced again at Sam and quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m not going anywhere. Get used to it.” Dean knew that stubborn tone and accepted Sam’s presence as easily as he’d accepted Jason’s touch.

Jason sighed, shrugged, and pulled Dean into his arms and Dean felt an unnatural heat radiating off of Jason’s taut-muscled body. Pure sex fizzled between them, jumping like a live current between their bodies. He’d never felt so primed. It had to be obvious to Sam that Dean was ready and in need of whatever Jason had to offer, and he had no idea why.

“Sam…” he started to ask his brother to leave. Even if he didn’t know the cause, Dean knew how this was going to play out and he didn’t really care for the idea of Sam watching.


“Don’t.” Sam said sharply. “I’m not leaving you alone in here.”

Nothing Dean said was going to affect Sam’s decision to stay, even though he had to admit that Jason acted like he knew exactly what was wrong with Dean and how to fix it. Sam glanced apologetically at Jason and Dean, but remained firmly rooted to his post at the door. He licked his lips and prepared to guard Dean with his life.

Sam could see that Dean had already lost interest in the discussion as Jason began unbuttoning his shirt, his hand brushing casually across Dean’s skin, sending his brother into fresh paroxysms of needy whimpers. He was making sounds Sam never imagined could come out of Dean’s mouth.

He watched in guilty fascination as his brother grew helpless against the onslaught. He’d never been witness to the raw urgency which spiced every muscle of Dean’s body. He wondered if there was a drug involved or if it was all magic, because Dean would never let himself lose control like this.

“What exactly is this ardeur?” Sam asked Jason quietly.

Jason had tried to hurriedly explain once they’d left the main room of the club, but none of it made sense to Sam and Jason had been eager to return to Dean. All he had been able to discern was that whatever malady had overtaken Anita had somehow overflowed onto Dean.

“It’s a hunger,” Jason spoke while he removed Dean’s clothes. “It will not be denied and if it is, bad things happen that will only cause your brother more harm. It must be fed.” Jason said with finality and Sam knew he would get no more from him until the crisis had passed.

Jason’s attention was redirected entirely back to Dean. The muscles in Sam’s neck corded as he fought for self-control and he found himself clenching his jaw and curling his fingers into tight fists in sympathetic reaction, trying to somehow send out his own will to help fight whatever it was Dean had tangled with.

“Don’t fight it, Dean. You’re just making it harder.” Jason’s voice lowered to a sensual cadence that Sam wasn’t even sure Dean heard. His tanned fingers skated over Dean’s shoulders, holding his head and forcing him to look into his eyes.

“Dean, listen to me.” Dean melted into Jason’s arms and Sam saw his eyes finally focus on his face. He was still breathing hard, however; and the bulge in his jeans had not lessened one bit.

When Jason was sure Dean was listening to him, he continued. “This is a starving hunger like you’ve never known, Dean. And without permission from either Anita or Jean Claude I can’t really explain how it happened. The important thing is, you have to feed it. The harder you fight, the stronger it becomes in you.”

Jason released Dean’s face and let his fingers wander across his body in abstract patterns. He spared Sam a curious look. “I’ve never known the ardeur to happen to a hu— someone besides Anita or Jean Claude. As you can see, it’s sort of a … a sexual thing.”

Sam’s head fell back and banged into the wall. While he stared at the ceiling, silently cursing his brother and his goddamn libido, Jason returned to Dean. Sam scrubbed his hands roughly over his face and through his hair, slid down the wall to sit in the corner, and accepted that he was going to be in for a show at some point in what was turning into a very long night.


At Jason’s insistent tone, Dean had reined in the need that saturated him from hair to toenails. Jason could help him. Jason knew what to do and by the time he had finished talking, Dean was ready to put his body and his life – which depended on feeding this hunger – in Jason’s hands.
He pulled Jason to him, holding his head firmly to angle his mouth in for a kiss. “Jason,” he breathed, “help me.”

Jason’s lip quirked up at the corner and his eyes seemed to brighten as he leaned down to kiss Dean just the way he needed it. It was incendiary and only caused the fire in Dean’s veins to flare with a fresh surge of craving.

The air caressed his overheated flesh as Jason worked to remove Dean’s clothes. Dean couldn’t shuck them off fast enough and reluctantly broke their kiss to slide out of pants and underwear, reveling in the feel of fresh air licking at his fevered skin. He lay back on the makeshift bed and tugged impatiently at the soft black mesh of Jason’s tank top, feeling the fabric rip under his insistent fingers.

In seconds Jason was naked as well and all Dean wanted – more than anything he could ever remember in his life – was the feel of that young, hard body covering his own. His world centered around Jason and the hunger.

Some small, still-functioning part of his brain recalled that Sam was still here, probably watching him as he practically begged Jason to fuck him. He could not bring himself to care and soon, even that flickering thought was buried under the feel of Jason’s smooth lips over his, his tongue sucking at Dean’s mouth, pulling him deeper and deeper into rippling heat.

Jason’s body was perfect. Smooth, soft skin over tight muscles that flexed when he shifted around Dean. Smoother than he should have been. Dean’s hands snaked between Jason’s legs and for a split second froze, unbelieving of the baby-soft skin of Jason’s hairless groin.

Dean forced his eyes open and peered down and felt Jason grin against his cheek. “I’m a dancer. So, I shave. The clients like it.”

Dean found this incredibly hot and only moaned at Jason’s explanation, palming his smooth balls before sliding his hand up to wrap about Jason’s dick. He didn’t know if it was because there was no thicket of curly hair surrounding the base or if Jason was truly blessed, but his dick seemed incredibly long and lean, with a fat mushroom head that made Dean long for the feel of it in his mouth.

He grunted and flipped them around so that Jason lay under him, all squirming hips and traveling hands. Dean lined their cocks up, closed his eyes and bit his lip as he felt Jason’s legs wrap around his hips.

“God,” was all he could gasp before Jason pulled him back down for a bone-deep kiss.

“God has very little to do with this,” was Jason’s reply. Dean grabbed a handful of firm ass before continuing to map every inch of skin he could reach. Jason’s nails raked up Dean’s back and scored his flesh until Dean jerked and cried out. After that, Jason reined himself in, gentling his touch as if he were used to much rougher love play and had forgotten who he was with.

The pain had unleashed a new hunger in Dean. He began to nibble at Jason’s chest, licking then biting the tender flesh at collarbone and Adam’s apple. Encouraged by Jason’s groans of pleasure, he dipped his head to take a pointed brown nipple between his teeth and tugged lightly, then harder as Jason reared up in response.

When Jason threw his head back, exposing an impossibly beautiful column of brown throat, Dean literally felt his mouth begin to water.

Impressions of another hunger flitted behind his eyes. In his world, there were now two hungers to be fed. Sex. And food. Fresh meat, dripping and steaming from the kill and the thought of burying his face in a still-warm carcass just made him harder. The two were intertwined. Food – sex. Sex – food.

Dean bent to Jason’s neck and licked across the steady beat of his pulse, feeling it against his tongue. The smell of sweat and musk filled his nostrils and his teeth scraped across the tender flesh which called to every primal urge within him.

He pulled back with a start.

When Jason raised his head, gasping and blinking, Dean struggled through the fog of lust and hunger. He wasn’t ready to give up yet but Jason was making it near impossible to remember why he was still fighting it.

Dean’s gaze flicked quickly across Jason’s face until it settled on his eyes. Those beautiful, deep blue eyes were now tinged with a ring of gold bleeding into the blue, reminding Dean of nothing more than the piercing gaze of some wild animal. That image was solidified when Jason pulled Dean to him firmly, burying his face in the hollow of Dean’s neck as he growled against hot, sweaty flesh. The sound was raw and primal and vibrated against Dean’s sensitive skin, going straight down to his dick.

Resistance began to melt in the heat of Jason’s body wrapped around him. And Jason must have felt the moment his defenses lowered, because he literally seemed to pounce, throwing Dean onto his back and attacking his mouth with tongue and teeth and grinding his hips in a way that Dean wished was both harder and faster.

“You feel so good,” Jason gasped. “…what do you want?” Dean could only roll his head side to side, breath coming fast and loud through his swollen lips. Jason’s kiss grew deeper and more urgent, before he told Dean exactly what he was going to do to him.

“I’m gonna lick your balls and suck your dick so good, Dean,” he panted against Dean’s neck. “Oh yeah, you’re gonna get the best blow job of your life, and then – when you’re hard and hot and can’t stand it anymore – when you’re ready to bust wide open, I’m going to slide my ass down on your cock and ride you ‘til you come so hard it hurts.”

“Ungh,” Dean grunted and yanked Jason’s mouth back to his own, tasting the coppery tang of blood from one of their lips. He twisted them around until he could pull Jason tighter against him, letting his legs fall over Jason’s golden thighs.

“Yes!” Jason hissed and continued to make a meal of Dean’s mouth.

Dean finally had to twist his face to the side, gulping in sweet oxygen. His vision wavered with the force of his hunger before clearing while he briefly caught Sam’s eye. In those few seconds, hours worth of words communicated between them.

Confusion was clear on Sam’s face, but his brother’s eyes were also piercing him with an intensity that would have had him on his knees if Jason wasn’t holding him down doing unspeakable things to his body. Dean could have sworn he saw a sort of baffling jealousy which he would have found interesting and thought-worthy if Jason hadn’t picked that second to wrap his dick in the moist, hot tightness of his mouth.

He could only hope Sam was seeing his furtive plea for understanding and acceptance of his total lack of inhibition with Jason just before he handed over his body.


Sam could feel the sweat trickle down his back and under his arms, soaking through the layers of clothing.

Under no circumstances was he going to stick his hand down his pants.

God, the sight of Dean, his brother, writhing naked under Jason, begging in every way but with words for something Sam couldn’t even begin to fathom, it brought to mind all of the late night, urgent masturbatory activities he’d kept to himself for the last year. Nights of gripping his hard dick tightly, pumping in slow, intense moves that wouldn’t make the sheets rustle or draw attention. And even if his brother had heard him, he couldn’t get inside Sam’s head. Sam knew he could at least have his fantasies in private without his brother reading the shameful lust he felt for him.

But now? If Dean hadn’t been so far gone in this ardeur, it would have been so easy for him to read Sam’s thoughts and feelings, which he was positive were flashing in bright neon lights over his head right now.

All Sam’s good intentions fled in the face of the raw, animal sex going on right in front of him. Not “making love”. This was primal. A feral kind of sex Sam wished he wasn’t seeing, and at the same time knew would fuel his fantasies forever.

Jason bit Dean’s shoulder and Sam saw a shudder run the length of his brother’s body. When Jason raised himself, the better to align their cocks, Dean complained with loud moans of loss. Then he gave a contented grunt when Jason settled down again, pressing into Dean’s body possessively.

“Please.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper and raspy-rough.

Sam’s hands worked at the button and zipper of his jeans to the sound of Jason’s wet kisses across Dean’s chest. In his mind, Dean’s plea was for him.


It became clear to Jason within moments of close contact with Dean that he was one very sexual being. That might go a long way towards explaining this freaky phenomenon . Dean’s libido rode close to the surface, right up there with some pretty intense anger. Both very strong emotions.

Jason figured he could ride Dean’s sexual energy for days given half a chance. As pleasant a thought as that was, he still couldn’t help but feel a little sorry at the obvious effects of the ardeur on his new lover. Jason couldn’t imagine having an itch like that that he couldn’t get scratched. Anita always had someone around to feed her if it happened to pounce unawares, but this… Man!

The thing was, he had no idea how the ardeur was going to react on a plain old human, although it seemed pretty clear Dean’s hunger ran pretty true to Anita’s. He couldn’t really bring himself to feel guilty for being in the right place at the right time when the ardeur hit. It didn’t hurt that there had been an instant physical attraction between them that he didn’t even need werewolf senses to feel.

Dean would have made a good dancer. His body was ripped and even without shaving, he didn’t have much body hair. Jason could feel the strength in his long, muscular legs when they wrapped around his hips, pulling him in, and he ached to be able to let go with him. When he gripped Dean’s arms, hard and shifting with muscle, all Jason wanted to do was see just how tough this tough-guy was.

He could feel Dean holding back, fighting for control. Control he was probably used to keeping – total and absolute. Dean hadn’t accepted that you don’t control the Hunger. It controls you.

Time for a lesson in surrender.

Jason shifted them on the couch, working his hand between their bodies. Dean’s cock filled his hand like hot steel and he smiled when he felt the ripples running up Dean’s body.

“You look so hot like this.” Jason licked the underside of Dean’s chin and continued the litany. “That beautiful cock, all hard and needy.” He bent over to swipe his thumb across the head where moisture had gathered, then brought it to his mouth and licked. “And you taste so good.”

Jason had to hold on to keep them both from being bucked off of the couch by Dean’s reaction to his words and touch. Dean arched his back, his body a mass of sweaty, rock-hard muscle. He ground his hips against Jason and growled in his ear.

“Not. Going to… break me.” He gasped, then put lie to words by moaning in a way that sounded like nothing more than a begging plea.

Jason chuckled deep in his chest, kissing Dean’s neck before nipping at his ear and whispering, “You need it bad, don’t you?” A noise that could have been denial rose from Dean. “You’re not going to get release any other way from any one else.” Even to himself, his words sounded like a warning.

Dean could only whimper a confession while he strained into Jason’s hand and soaked up the pure sexual tension radiating from Jason’s body.

“Need to… Wanna fuck you,” Dean breathed against his ear and Jason thought he would come on the spot.

“Shit yeah!” Jason was breathing hard and both their bodies were slick with sweat. “But first…” He slid to the floor in one liquid move that left his head resting in Dean’s lap.

Dean’s cock bobbed slightly as he squirmed around to give Jason better access, missing the temporary loss of physical contact – of hot, naked flesh against his own.

Jason was as good as his earlier words and began a slow, methodical tongue-bath of the tight skin behind Dean’s balls before sliding further down between his legs and nipping at the tender flesh of his inner thighs.

He felt the second Dean succumbed to the lust of the Hunger and gave himself over to Jason’s ministrations without reserve.

Jason moved back up to slide one of Dean’s balls carefully into his mouth and sucked gently. He could feel the skin pull taunt as his legs splayed open even further. Dean was the picture of a debauched sex god.

He bent Dean’s knees up until his feet flattened against the velvety material of the sofa. Jason was offered full access to Dean’s body now and he no longer felt the signs of struggle against the ardeur. He licked lower, then lower again until he tasted musk and sweat and pure sex.

Dean spasmed slightly, then relaxed before puckering tightly again each time Jason poked and teased with his tongue. Jason’s hand jacked him slowly, gripping his cock tightly at the base, then loosening at the crown to flick a thumb over the head before sliding his mouth once more on Dean until his throat was full of pulsing flesh. When he felt Dean’s balls draw and tighten, he pulled off again.

Although Jason wasn’t necessarily a dominant wolf, he effortlessly held Dean down as he traced the rim of Dean’s entrance over and over before fucking him with his tongue, resulting in a very loud, very animated orgasm.


This is not even happening! Sam chanted the denial over and over in his head, but his dick, along with the rest of his body, was having none of it.

The sight of his brother and another man, naked, getting sucked off and coming unself-consciously. He was pretty sure his brain had already blown all fuses and he was operating now on pure animal instinct. That would do as a fair excuse for his predicament, at least.

Even with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, Sam could still see Jason’s very talented mouth doing obscene things to Dean’s body. Things Sam would give his left nut to do.

His breathing was harsh and loud to his own ears. He tried closing his eyes to escape the erotic sight before him, but realized it was useless; the dirty sex sounds Jason was ripping from his brother could not be escaped. They left him literally shaking with lust in the corner.

Sam had given up all pretense of disinterest in the goings on between Dean and Jason. There was no hiding from the other men that more than his interest was piqued at the proceedings. He’d tried very hard, however, to restrain his own libido’s reaction to the scenes playing out before him, better than any fantasy he could dream up.

With the guttural sounds from Dean’s orgasm still echoing in his ears, Sam whimpered, bit his lip guiltily, then with a mental fuck it threw off any pretense of control, much as Dean was doing, and jacked himself with quick, jerky movements. Sam decided to feed his own personal hunger for his brother just this once. He’d allow his most private secret free reign – just for tonight.

With any luck, Dean wouldn’t remember anything but his own experience.


Jason was feeling a bit out of his league; he was used to the benefits that came with feeding a vampire and he had experienced Anita once, but this was nothing like that. Dean was so hot and alive in his hands – so responsive to everything he was doing. He acted like he wanted to be here, not fighting himself the way Anita always was. It felt so good to have such a willing partner.

Even after Dean’s orgasm, his erection did not subside one bit and before Jason knew it, Dean was there, licking the taste of himself from Jason’s mouth, smearing with his tongue the creamy liquid that had landed just in front of one ear, then up near his eye, humming against Jason’s temple. His night was just getting started.

Dean’s come was also spread across his stomach, decorating his belly button, and Jason slid on up until he was straddling Dean’s lap, grabbing his black tank top from the floor to quickly wipe himself and Dean off. Dried, itchy come was no fun.

Jason reached down to stroke Dean’s cock lightly, gauging his sensitivity and readiness for another round. Dean threw his head back and Jason just couldn’t stop himself from leaning in, scraping his teeth along the hard column of Dean’s neck before sucking in a bit of loose skin at his collarbone.

His mouth still working at a tender spot, he slowly kneaded at the bunched muscles of Dean’s shoulders, then dropped his hands lower, raking sharp nails along his sides and back. Jason pulled the sweet flesh into his mouth, the pressure of his tongue bathing the bruise he felt forming. As fragile capillaries burst under Jason’s onslaught, the warm, tangy taste of blood lay just below the surface of Dean’s skin and Jason felt his beast ripple and shift impatiently. Fighting to tamp it down, Jason wished he could just let go with Dean. He was someone Jason felt could give just as good as he got.

Now that the ardeur had been fed an appetizer, Jason watched Dean begin to war with himself – and the hunger – again. It was that control thing. Jason had a split second of warning before Dean shoved him back with a strength that would have had him bare-assed on the hard floor if he’d been just a regular guy.

Jason dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulders to keep his balance, but before he could react – could try to get Dean back to that ‘letting go’ place – Dean pulled him back in, crushing their mouths together until Jason was lapping at the free-running blood from Dean’s lips.

Jason pulled away, his mouth leaving Dean’s with a soft pop, and leaned over to grope under the sofa. He doubted there was a room in the club that wasn’t stocked with party favors of a sexual nature.

When he straightened up, supplies in one hand, he curled his fingers around Dean’s cock, shifting his hand around to the perfect position. Jason jacked him slowly, then squeezed until Dean gasped and squirmed under him.

“Alright, Princess,” Jason mimicked Dean’s earlier words to him with an appreciative gleam in his eye. “You ready to drive?”

His words had an electrifying effect on Dean, who breathed a raspy, “Fuck yeah!” in response, while still shaking his head no. Jason grinned and flipped the cap off the tube of Slick.

“Get off me,” Dean commanded and began squirming his legs out from under Jason’s weight.

Jason smiled, slid off Dean’s lap and looked at him with one quirked eyebrow, silently asking how Dean wanted to do this.

Dean’s answer was to crawl atop Jason, shoving him down into a full-body press. Bare skin pressed together at chest and thighs and Jason felt a bit breathless from Dean’s surprising strength. He knew how to work his body for maximum effect, that was for sure.

No more time for speculation on how Dean kept that hard body in prime condition because Jason was being assaulted by nips and licks across his chest and down his stomach. Dean’s hands were busy, as well, alternately scratching and stroking along Jason’s sides before moving between his legs.

Jason gasped at the heat radiating from Dean’s palm. He bucked up, bunching the muscles in his ass and clutching Dean’s arms in a biting grip.

“Here,” Jason caught a breath and shoved the tube of lube at Dean.

Dean raised his head and Jason didn’t think he’d ever seen such an animal look in a full human before. Feral didn’t begin to cover it.

Dean squeezed Jason’s cock once, possessively, and held out his free hand. Jason laid the tube in the cradle of Dean’s palm noticing how the sweat gathered in the creases and lines of his hand. The heat Dean was giving off. The heat of passion, need, and want radiating in waves of lust; Jason felt his own hands tingle – his fingers pull and creak – and closed his eyes to concentrate on holding the beast back. Just a little while longer.

It became a battle of wills with his wolf when Dean reluctantly released Jason and squirted a small puddle of wet liquid in his other hand. The picture of Dean reaching between his legs, eyes heavy, breathing through his mouth as he began preparing Jason with impatient fingers had his beast scrabbling at his will, leaving it dangling in shreds.

Once more Jason felt his body tense, his muscles tighten and worked on relaxing himself. His legs fell open to help Dean’s efforts and the blunt pressure against his hole made him clench his hands into tight fists. He wanted to feel Dean inside him right the fuck now.

Another deep breath and Jason regained control with well-practiced methods of breathing and imagery. Then he ran his hands up Dean’s thighs, squeezing and kneading the hardened muscles of well-shaped legs. When he got to the juncture of thigh and groin, he wiggled himself down a bit, causing Dean’s fingers to shove deeper inside, which caused him to gasp and grip Dean’s cock harder than he intended.

Dean didn’t appear to mind.

His smile widened and a third finger joined the first two, manipulating Jason into a squirming, groaning mass of nerve-endings.

“Come on, will ya?” Jason begged hazily, tugging on Dean’s cock toward his well-prepared body. “What are you waiting for, Dean?” Jason taunted. “You so want to fuck me.”


Dean’s eyes brightened at Jason’s goading and he felt his lips tug into something between a hungry leer and a growl. “Roll over.”

Jason’s reaction was surprisingly swift. Dean felt his body just ‘give’ as Jason pulled himself from under him and flipped over in one fluid movement that left Dean blinking and staring at the sinewy roll of muscles across Jason’s tan back.

When Dean didn’t immediately act, Jason shifted, rose onto his elbows and twisted his head around, causing more muscle action in shoulders and back. Dean was back in the game with an audible exhale of hot air across Jason’s moist skin. He shifted back onto his knees and pulled Jason’s hips up to snug against his groin and cradle his dick.

“Come on, Dean. Feed the hunger. Can’t you feel it?” Jason moaned and ground back against him.

Dean could indeed feel it. Like smoke curling in and around inside his body, wavering in and out of bone and muscle and nerves. It felt strongest at the base of his spine, deep in the root of him, and it brought a heated need that went beyond simple hunger. Or any hunger he’d ever felt before. This was alive and it wanted to be fed now.

Dean’s fingers, slick with lube, burrowed into the flesh of Jason’s hips to steady him – to ready him. Without benefit of guiding hands, Dean lined himself up and slid between Jason’s cheeks with a grunt and a gasp – steady and slow and perfect – until their bodies met, ass to pelvis.

Jason dropped his head low until Dean could only see wet blond curls centered between his lean shoulder blades and hear the animals noises coming from somewhere beneath him. Dean pulled his dick back in a painstakingly slow movement until just the head rested inside of Jason. He shifted his grip for better purchase and pulled Jason back onto him until he was buried once more to the base. This time Jason’s head rose and Dean could have sworn the moan coming from his lover was like the beginnings of an animal howl.

The pace of their fucking became desperate and urgent. The best purchase Dean could get was with one hand at Jason’s hip and one tightening vice-like across his shoulder. Bruises were already forming in the shapes of his fingers around and across Jason’s lower back and sides. But Dean felt – knew deep inside – that he could be as wild and rough as he wanted. The flow of filthy and crude sex talk washed over them, firing them both to harder rutting and Dean to wrap his arms around Jason’s chest and scrape his nails back and forth until red welts and small red beads decorated his skin.

When Dean thought the beast within would tear him open to get out, he caught sight of Jason jerking his wrist roughly, keening with the need to come, himself. He caught a glimpse of Jason’s hands, fingers unnaturally long, wrapped tightly around his dick until the come began to burble and shoot across his chest and along his side.

The bones seemed to shift beneath Dean’s palms, but he was too caught up in the hunger to question what was happening. All he knew was that he was about to blow and it felt like the need was about to explode through his pores.

“Fuck!” The room echoed with Dean’s voice, almost unrecognizable in its harshness. His hips snapped hard enough to jar Jason forward once, then twice before he just shoved them both down in a collapsed heap on the sofa.


Come puddled and cooled in the crease of Sam’s stomach where he sat in the corner, pants shoved over his ass and still holding his dick. He’d never felt so embarrassed and gross now that the heat of the moment had passed.

Without even trying, he’d timed his orgasm perfectly with Dean’s and he prayed with every fiber of his being that Dean had been too wrapped up in Jason and his own thing to even notice the way Sam had jacked his cock in time to Dean’s thrusts and bit his lip until it bled to prevent any sound escaping.

Sam hastily wiped his hand on the carpet beside him, grimacing at the creamy streaks and figured the floor had seen worse, given what he’d seen of the place and mentally shrugged it off. Once he was tucked and zipped, Sam shoved himself up the wall and tried his damnedest to look like he’d just been leaning back, guarding his brother’s back, just like always.


Jason grunted and tried to roll over, only to feel Dean’s arm tighten its hold under his as he wriggled over him.

“Hold up.” Dean’s voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat. “Lemme just…” Dean raised himself on one arm, pulled the other from beneath Jason and rolled back to knees. Pink tinged sweat and come and lube all mixed in a disgusting concoction that was beginning to dry on his stomach and chest. His dick sort of vibrated with residual intensity and he tugged at it gently just to make sure it was still attached.

Jason squirmed out from between Dean’s legs and swung around to a seated position before collapsing back against the wall. Dean was patient for about ten seconds, waiting for Jason to say something in way of explanation. When the younger man refused to meet his gaze and seemed to be quite occupied with putting the lid back on the lube, Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you mind telling me what the fuck that was?”


“…and you get super-fucking-natural SEX!!”

Dean couldn’t understand why Sammy was so pissed off. It’s not like he asked for this ardeur And it wasn’t his fault he was such a “sexual being.” Yeah, that’s what Jason had said.


Dean made some comment about Sammy’s loud mouth because it was expected of him, then gunned the engine on the Impala and pulled out into traffic. He couldn’t get out of this fucked up city fast enough.

They’d been assured that Kate was being dealt with, which he assumed meant staked out in the sun and drenched in dead man’s blood, but neither he nor Sam felt like sticking around to make sure. Dean silently conceded to himself that Anita was definitely one tough-ass bitch and he was pretty confident Kate wouldn’t see another night.

Once they were headed out up the 270, Dean began to relax and he could feel the tension in his neck start to ebb. Jason’s words still bounced around in his head like some sort of incredible x-rated fairy tale and he couldn’t help the smirk he knew he wore, even when Sammy looked over and snorted.

That’s okay. He now knew some shit that was guaranteed to bring Sam to his knees next time they had a brotherly feud.

As hot as it had been to fuck Jason — and man, did that guy have a mouth and an ass on him – the image that remained burned into Dean’s memory and would forever cause him to go spontaneously and instantly hard, was that of Sam, pants gaping open, dick in hand and eyes rolled back as he came, breathing Dean’s name.

He hadn’t been that far gone.


Sequel - Being:Sentient (Sam/Dean NC17)

2 Comments to “Being: Sexual”

  1. pk | February 17th, 2008 at 12:35 pm

    I’ve commented before when it was on LJ, but I wanted to comment again and tell you: you’ve been recced here at :)

  2. Jen (rejeneration) | January 2nd, 2009 at 1:15 am

    Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I shuddered so hard I think I pulled something. -grin- How hot and awesome was this? The answer is: A WHOLE FUCKING LOT! I’m off to the next part!! =D

Leave a Comment