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Sam Wants The D	By : TheLoClax Category: Supernatural > Crossovers Views: 1236 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Vampire Diaries, or any characters, stories, or anything else. Nothing is mine, and this is for pure adult entertainment.

Chapter List
- 1-Sam Wants The D
- 1
Hi guys! Welcome to my very first story, and my very first post on here. I've been lurking on all these awesome stories for a while and finally wanted to write my own. It's just a silly story I thought of one day while day-dreaming. Let me know if you like it, if you hate it, what you had for lunch...literally anything you wanna say! But really, let me know if this story isn't complete shit. Also it's a work in progress, and there will be at least one more sex scene I'm in the process of writing. I just really liked the ending for this chapter ;) Happy reading!
Chapter 1 - Sam Meets The D In Mystic Falls
Sam lay in a creaky spring bed in another cheap motel in some no-name town, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. In the stark darkness and sheer quiet of the room, he was reminded of how alone he was. The tears had long dried up, and only the hollow feeling kept him company in his lonely hotel room. Mom, Jessica, Adam, Bobby, and now Dean and Cas. He listed everyone he cared about that had died. Well, Dean and Cas might actually be alive, but Sam had searched for months trying to find out where they might have gone. Nothing had turned up. There was absolutely no sign of them, or Dick Roman, or any other leftover Leviathan. And when he remembered the promise Dean and he had made, about not looking for each other if they found themselves in this kind of situation, Sam abandoned his search to try and abide his brother’s wishes. But wherever Dean and Cas may or may not be, the loss was real, and it was painful. The pangs of loss gave a big punch to Sam’s gut, and he tried to distract his thoughts.
Usually hunting distracted him. Helping others used to bring him a little ease and happiness, and killing monsters gave him a little revenge for what life dealt him. But he’d been chasing down demons and monsters since Dean and Cas disappeared on him, and it wasn’t working. Sam needed to distract himself from that hollow feeling that had grown bigger and bigger as each person he loved left him alone on this fucking planet. He had a lead somewhere called Mystic Falls in Virginia. It seemed like vampires, but he wasn’t set on that theory. It just didn’t sit right with him. But something is in that town and Sam was going to find out what it was.
One last case, he thought. I can do one more case before I give up and just start going crazy. Sam rolled onto his side, his view shifted towards the window. The moon hung low in the sky, and Sam’s eyes burned looking at it. Time to go to bed. I hope I can fall asleep. Sam closed his eyes, hoping this night he might get some rest from all the nightmares. But his hopes weren’t set that high.
--
Sam woke with a start, pulling his knife out from under his pillow and waving it at the imaginary Leviathan. Realizing there were none, and that he looked like a psychotic idiot waving his knife around, he put it down on the bedside table. Taking a relieving breath, he rubbed his face with his hands. He looked at the clock, which read 6:37. He supposed he right now was as good a time as any to get up. Coffee. First things first: Get coffee, Sam thought to himself as he stood up to prepare for a long drive.
--
Sam was crossing the bridge into Mystic Falls. As he drove up, something about the bridge gave him an odd feeling. Whatever it was, there must be something going on in this town. Sam’s ‘feelings’ were usually right. This must be a small town if this is the only bridge into and out of town, Sam thought to himself as he rode into town.
Driving through the main part of town, he saw he was right. The town was very small, and seemed to be close-knit, considering everyone looked at him as he drove past. Sam spotted a seemingly popular restaurant called the Mystic Grill and realized how hungry he was. It looked good enough, and he parked and got out of the car. Just walking to the front door he was getting stares and long sideways glances. All the eyes on him made him uncomfortable. He wondered why vampires would come to this small town. It wasn’t the best place to go unnoticed, obviously. And it was an even worse place if you were a vampire who wanted a snack or two every night. There’s definitely something going on in this town, he thought as he entered the bar, getting more stares.
Scanning the scene as he walked towards the bar, the stares seemed to dissipate. Sitting on a stool, he asked the bartender for a beer and a menu. Sitting one stool away, a breathtakingly handsome man (Sam could admit when men were attractive, although never to anyone other than himself) sat staring into the depths of his drink. The intensity surrounding this guy reminded Sam of how he and Dean would sometimes get when they drank together. His gut twisted at the thought of Dean, and Sam quickly took up a different train of thought while he waited for the bartender. Sam looked up after a few minutes, looking for the bartender, and wondered where he’d gone. Out of curiosity he looked towards the good looking guy and was met with the man sitting right next to him, and holding up another glass to Sam. Sam jumped a little.
“Hi.” The man made the greeting drip with his voice. He pointed downward with his eyes and gave Sam a glass of what looked like bourbon.
“Uh, thanks.” Sam said quickly, puzzled why this man was giving him a drink. Maybe he thinks I’m….no, course not. Sam quickly banished the stray thought and turned his full attention to the strange man that had just handed him, mmmmm, a very nice tasting scotch by the taste. His stomach fluttered with butterflies with a glance at the stranger, and Sam smirked at his odd involuntary reaction.
            “You have good taste in bourbon.” Sam complimented the man.
            “Thanks stranger.” He said with a slip of sarcasm. “ I’m Damon. Damon Salvatore.” Damon stretched out his hand for Sam to shake. As Sam reached for Damon’s hand he noticed an antique style ring on his finger. Sam mentally stored the image of the ring to recall later.
            “And, you are…?” Damon asked, trying to look Sam straight in the eye. Sam noted that as well. He also noted while taking his hand, Damon’s light, icy blue eyes that seemed to pierce into him, causing a shiver down his spine. As they released hands, Sam noticed Damon cock his head to the side for a split second, his eyes taking on a perplexed emotion.
            “Sam Winchester.” Sam said. Damon had a firm handshake. He had noticed how Damon’s muscles flexed under his shirt when they shook hands. The thought of Damon shirtless surfaced in his mind and Sam quickly tried to dash the image away, but the vision resisted leave even after Damon started talking.
            “Sam Winchester.” Damon repeated, dripping his voice over Sam’s name salaciously. As he looked, Sam caught a glint of something dark and ominous and full of power in Damon’s icy blue eyes. He got slightly aroused by the look and quickly dashed away the feeling.
            “So, Sam, “ Damon’s voice lingered on Sam’s name, “What brings you to the great Mystic Falls, Virginia?” Damon asked the question, lacing it with sarcasm.
            “Oh, I’m just passing through.” Sam answered. He thought this was probably the best answer, since he’d be done with the case in a day or two anyway. He tried his best impression of a vagabond.
            “Really?” Damon asked, his tone was slightly mocking, leading Sam to believe Damon saw right through his poor excuse of a cover. Damon flashed a toothy grin that held a hint of mischief, and Sam gave a small smile in response, while analyzing Damon’s subtle darker tones in his expressions. The man really was handsome. And his eyes were thoroughly entrancing. Sam found himself looking deep into Damon’s eyes for longer and longer periods of time. There was a dark,, powerful side of Damon, hidden just under the surface that hypnotized and enthralled Sam. But he was on a case and couldn’t be thinking about any of this right now. He had to focus on trying to forget about – Dean and Cas. The sharp pain in his gut returned with renewed vigor. I haven’t thought about them once while I was talking to Damon, until now.
            “Well, Mr. Salvatore—“, Sam started.
            “You can call me Damon, Sam. I’m not some crusty, old man, as the ‘Mister’ title would assume.” Damon told Sam. Sam looked down as he gave a small smile, unveiling his perfect dimples to Damon in the process.
            “Well, Damon…, I’m hoping maybe you can help me find some place to stay for a couple days. I didn’t see a hotel directly in town, or in the past few towns I drove through. Do you know a motel, or a bed and breakfast I could stay at for a few days?” Sam asked Damon, thinking he must know.
            “Yeah, sure. There’s Mystic Falls Inn down the way. Just take a right when you see the huge Sycamore tree down Main Street, and it’ll be at the end of the driveway.” Damon told him. Then Damon took a pen from his pants pocket and wrote something on the drink napkin next to him. That reminded Sam of the bartender, and wondered where he’d gone when Sam had asked for the beer and the menu a while ago.
            Damon handed Sam the napkin, their fingers touching in passing. Sam felt a current of electricity run through him, ending in his groin as his dick twitched. Sam tried to stay calm on the outside, while his inside was reeling over the reaction he had to touching Damon’s hand. He hadn’t had a reaction to a man since…, Sam shook his head, banishing the memories. He glanced down at the napkin and saw Damon had written a phone number.
            “That’s my phone number in case you decide you want a tour of the town, or if you have any problems. We have a rowdy bunch here in the Falls. So let me know if anything happens.” Damon told him, giving Sam another mischievous, toothy smile.
            “Well thanks a lot Damon. You were a great help. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, as small as this town is.” Sam chuckled and smiled at Damon as he got up to leave, flashing those adorable dimples Damon’s way. Damon gave a nod, his eyes glistening sharply. Sam was about to turn towards the front entrance when Damon spoke again.
            “And Sam, I mean it. Call me for anything.” Damon gave Sam a slightly darker half smile, and then turned back to his scotch. Weird guy, Sam thought as he walked towards the door. I’ll keep an eye on him. Sam turned his head back towards where Damon sat. Damon’s face was turned towards the window, but he seemed to be looking at something much farther than the park outside. Sam knew that look well, and felt himself wanting to know what had him so lost in thought. His eyes could really put on an act, but underneath Sam knew there was unbearable pain, and it made his heart wrench for the guy.

            Sam’s stomach growled as he exited the restaurant, reminding him that he hadn’t gotten what he expected from entering that place. But he got some possibly useful information, along with Damon’s phone number. Not that that was important. Sam blushed as he thought of the jolt he got from brushing fingertips with Damon and got in the car to find the Inn Damon had mentioned.
            Finding the Sycamore tree, he turned down a small street scattered with trees on each side of the road. The trail of trees continued all the way to a small front office building, with the Inn’s connected rooms spreading out behind the office. The Inn seemed small but home-y and Sam tried to quench the pang that hit him as he missed his brother. So far, this case had not been helping Sam forget the hollow spot still burrowing in his chest. Except when you met Damon, Sam’s brain blurted at him. He sighed. Maybe once I get digging I’ll have less time to think about Dean and Damon, Sam thought with small hope.
--
Sam had been researching these deaths for 7 hours straight, and he was in need of more coffee, and possibly a drink if he wanted to continue wading through so much useless garbage looking for any information he could use. He decided to take a much needed break and walk to the Grill for a drink, if that bartender was anywhere to be found this time. He would be able to relax, and be able to question the locals. Putting away his laptop, Sam grabbed his jacket, keys and wallet and closed the door as he went out.
            Outside it was a crisp, fall evening. The sun was still setting, and the soft light shone through the trees lining the road in a very flattering way. Sam took a deep breath in, and gave a satisfied exhale at the smell of fall in his nose. Sam loved this time of year, except for Halloween. Fall meant school was back in session, which Sam always loved. And Sam felt that nature was most beautiful during Fall. While admiring the varying colors of the trees, Sam thought he saw something rustle to his left a few trees down. He stepped closer for a better look, but didn’t see anything. He noticed the feeling of eyes on him again. He scanned the surrounding wooded area, but couldn’t pick up any sounds or see anyone. Sam made a mental note to keep an eye out for all the wooded areas in Mystic Falls. There seemed to be a lot and for a vampire, or any other creature, they were a great hiding spot. Feeling the multiple stakes in his jacket pocket along with assorted other gadgets, he gave a reassured sigh and got in the Impala to drive to the Grill.

--
As soon as Sam pulled up to the Grill, he noticed the restaurant was livelier than this afternoon. This must be the town’s most popular watering hole. Good. Sam knew he would find something useful at the Grill, and felt a little more at ease about his lackluster research earlier. Sam enjoyed interacting with people, asking questions, handing out false background info on him and analyzing their reactions.
            Walking into the Grill, there was a wall of loud, chattering voices that greeted Sam. Seeing a free seat at the bar, Sam walked towards it, and as he got closer he realized that Damon, the guy from earlier was seated in the exact same seat Sam saw him in earlier that day. This guy was giving Sam his fair share of weird feelings for the day. Sam couldn’t figure what the guy’s deal was, or why Sam’s heart started fluttering every time he came near Damon- hard as he tried to ignore it or snuff it out. Seeing Damon sitting there, Sam decided to act on the opportunity he had stumbled upon and resolved to question Damon first.
            “Hey Damon! It’s Sam, from earlier.” Sam said as he walked up to where Damon sat. Damon turned around, and upon seeing Sam, gave a small, unconvincing half smile.
            “Hi Sam.” Damon spoke Sam’s name with dripping distain, and turned back to his drink. What happened in the last 7 hours to make this guy such a dick all of a sudden? Sam wondered, and sat on the empty stool next to Damon. Sam waved his hand, getting the bartender’s attention.
            “Pick your poison.” The bartender said, exhaustion in his voice.
            “Scotch. The strongest you have, please. Oh, and I’ll take a double shot. Keep ‘em comin’, too.” Sam answered.
            “Alright, it’s your liver, buddy.” The bartender quipped back, and poured the drink, sliding it towards Sam. Sam just sighed at the quip.
            “So what’s your story then?” Damon suddenly said, turning to face Sam, his icy blue eyes hazy, hinting at a slightly green tint Sam hadn’t noticed ‘til now. Damon’s eyes, while they were so keen and calculating and aware earlier were now glazed over with indifference.
            “What do you mean?” Sam asked, wondering if Damon had stayed here all day getting drunk. Maybe he’s the town drunk, Sam thought taking a long sip of his drink. He made a “mmm” sound, pleased with the quality of the scotch. This bar’s hard liquors had an odd, yet pleasant taste that Sam couldn’t quite guess.
            “I mean,” Damon drew out the words, “what’s your story? There’s a reason why a guy who’s supposedly just passing through orders that strong of a drink.” Damon gave a look that said, “Come on. I know you know what I mean.” Damon took a sip of his drink. Sam looked quizzically at Damon, and thought whether telling Damon any part of the truth was a good idea. Taking another swig of his drink, he gained the courage to take a chance. He wouldn’t let on anything about the case, but he needed someone to talk to. Really, he just needed to get a lot of stuff off his chest. And Sam suddenly being utterly alone, for the first time had absolutely no one else to turn to.
            Ignoring the weird feeling in his stomach, Sam took a deep breath and let out what he’d been holding in since Dean and Cas had disappeared.
            “My brother’s probably dead.” The mumbled words hurried through Sam’s barely-moving lips. Sam stared down into his drink, downed the remains, and banged the glass down on the bar. Sam released the tension in his shoulders he wasn’t aware of before now.
            “Well. That’s a story waiting to be told.” Damon commented. Clearing his throat, Damon turned from his drink and faced Sam. “Why ‘probably’?” Damon asked, seemingly more intrigued in Sam’s story. Sam turned his refilled glass round and round, staring at the liquid inside. Finally he glanced sideways up at Damon and, sighing, braced for impact.
            “It’s kind of a long story. “ Sam said, taking a sip of his scotch for courage to go on. “But the shortcut is, in the line of work my brother and I do, our lives are almost always at risk.” Sam stopped and looked down at the drink in his hand, unsure of whether he had gone too far in spewing information to this guy he met only hours before. But aside from the “butterfly-in-his-stomach” feeling he got around Damon, there was also this odd feeling of… home and comfort. That was it: Sam felt comfortable around this guy, but for what reason Sam was clueless.
            “You’re gonna leave me on a cliff hanger like that?” Damon prodded, looking at Sam with sly intent. Sam got more comfortable on his stool before continuing.
            “Well, our most recent job was by far our hardest, and most dangerous. And I was somewhere else when my brother…apprehended our perp. As soon as I got there, my brother was gone, and so was our perp. I’ve tried looking for him everywhere, calling him, asking around our usual meet-up spots and got nothing.” Sam finished his short ‘summary’ of the events that had happened months ago, but felt like only a few days ago. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to his drink, staring past the dark liquid. “I don’t even know what happened before I lost him.” Sam added in a quieter voice, taking a melancholy tone in his voice.
            “I’m sorry.” Damon said, turning to look down at his drink as well. A short silence passed where both Damon and Sam stared past their drinks, lost in their thoughts. Damon was the one to break the silence.
            “You must be a hell of a bounty hunter, to hunt a criminal that dangerous.” Damon stated, looking back to Sam with a sharp, sad smile. Sam stared back at Damon blankly, trying to detect that sliver of sarcasm that seemed a part of Damon’s personality. “I just guessed you were a bounty hunter. But the ‘dangerous perp’ thing? Was he really that dangerous?” Damon slipped the words through his blush-colored lips. Sam thought against correcting the disbelief that Damon so snidely expressed.
            “Yeah, kinda.” Sam answered, giving a small half smile.
            “That’s the first time you’ve broken that stone-like expression of yours tonight.” Damon told Sam, pointing at Sam’s face in a circular motion, sloshing the drink in his hand. Sam just gave a small “heh” in response. Sam was beginning to notice the effect of the alcohol on him. He’d had at least six shots by now, and it was making everything fuzzier. Sam turned to look back at Damon, and Damon’s features were softer than he remembered. His indecent and puzzling (to Sam) thoughts about Damon were becoming more and more prevalent over his other thoughts.
            “So now I gotta ask,” Damon turned to look at Sam, “Why are you here? I mean, don’t you still want to look for your brother; do some bounty-hunter- type shit? Or what about the rest of your family, why aren’t you with them?” Damon asked in an assuming tone. Sam stared off for a second and gave a small laugh. “I didn’t expect many laughs from the guy who has a pretty permanent stone face.” Damon gave a half-smile, and Sam flashed those dimples for Damon once more. “I guess life is full of little surprises.” Damon added, more to himself than to Sam.
            “Actually, today’s the first time I’ve actually laughed since my brother...” Sam responded, faltering at the end. Damon studied Sam’s face as Sam became introspective for a moment. Shaking his head, Sam snapped out of his short trance. “To answer your question, I’m not really sure. Dean’s my only family, and we promised not to look for each other if…, if something like this ever happened. It sounds kinda stupid but, now that he’s gone…” Sam couldn’t finish the sentence. All of a sudden he was acutely aware of that hollow feeling in his stomach again. The weird part was he hadn’t felt it since he sat down next to Damon. It’s so odd, Sam thought, puzzled as to why being around Damon gave him this sense of comfort. Although Sam thought it very well could be the alcohol giving him the comfort he felt now, along with not drinking alone.
            “Well Sammy, I say you deserve another drink. Hey bartender, my friend Sammy over here needs another refill, on me.” Damon called, clapping his hand on Sam’s shoulder. His shoulder tingled from the touch, and Sam looked at Damon’s hand, again noticing the antique ring on his finger. Sam didn’t want to tell Damon that only Dean is, was, allowed to call him Sammy, because the familiarity just felt too nice.
            “This ring on your finger, where’d you get it?” Sam asked, taking Damon’s hand in his and admiring the detail in it. “It looks like an antique. A family heirloom?” Sam added. Damon looked back from the bartender, and sat back in his stool.
            “Yeah, kind of. But it’s been in my possession longer than any other family member that wore it.” Damon’s lips curled up in one of his signature mischievous smiles. And Sam smiled back.
            “Hmmm, well it’s a very nice ring. It looks good on you.” Sam complimented as he took a sip of his free drink.
            “Well hey, why don’t you try it on? You like it right? See how it looks on you.” Damon offered, taking off his ring and handing it out for Sam.
            “Thanks.” Sam said with a smile, and took the ring to look at close up. “It has a very nice intricate design.” Sam put the ring on his middle finger and spread his hand out to see how it looked. He held his hand up to his face and said in a mocking tone, “Well, what do you think? Does it bring out my eyes?” batting his eyelashes. Damon looked him straight in the eye for a second, and then both men were laughing like they hadn’t it years.
            “Yeah. The red really brings out the blood thirst in your eyes.” Damon retorted. “Now give it back before I have to take it back.” And they continued laughing and joking as they knocked back more drinks.
--
Sam and Damon were laughing hysterically, and sloshing drink in their hands. Stifling laughs, Damon looked at Sam and asked, “He did that?” Sam stopped laughing and answered, “Oh hell yeah. I couldn’t wear those jeans for a week. But I got him back. He loves burgers; hates vegetables. For a week I ordered veggie burgers for him. He had diarrhea for two weeks.” [AQ3] Sam said, giving another small laugh, and smiling while he looked down into his drink. Damon chuckled to himself, and took a sip of his drink.
            “Hey, I don’t mean to bring the mood down, but I never got a chance to ask you why you were drinking that strong scotch?” Sam asked, looking up at Damon with puppy dog eyes that shone with trusting sincerity. Damon looked away for a minute, and then smiled a sad smile and gave a small, sullen laugh.
            “Because I love drinking, of course!” Damon reiterated unconvincingly.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sam offered, trying not to push.
            “No, it’s fine.” Damon said, drawing the words out. “It’s a little ironic actually. I’m also having some brother problems.” Damon thought for a second, then added, “And some other problems.” Sam gave a “hmm”. Noticing the silence, Sam turned back to face the bar, and finished his drink. Damon was looking down, past his hands.
            “We’re in love with the same girl. My brother and I.” Damon said, still looking past his drink.
            “Tough break, man.” Sam said, putting his hand on Damon’s shoulder in comfort. Damon sighed and looked back up at Sam.
            “And she hates me.” Damon’s eyes shone for the first time with such raw emotion: Rejection. But in a second it was gone, his eyes acting again. He really felt for Damon. It was one thing to have everyone you love unwillingly taken from you, but entirely different for the person you love to not love you back, and it had to sting that this girl not only loved another, but loved his brother. All Sam wanted to do now was help Damon not feel so rejected. “She loves my stupid brother, and not me. She loves my punk-ass, sensitive, emotional little brother, and not me. Just like always.” Damon started, now staring past his glass, deep into the memories that still scorched his heart. Sam could tell Damon needed to get shit off his chest.
            “Hey, Damon, you can tell me anything, or nothing. You helped me forget all my shit for a while. So anything I can do, I owe you.” Sam offered, looking Damon in the eye with those concerned puppy dog eyes. Something about those eyes looking so concerned for him, spoke to the little part inside Damon where his feelings hid, locked away. And suddenly Damon felt a familiar tingle below his belt. Am I aroused by his eyes? Damon asked himself, feeling his dick twitch, and then he frantically tried to think of things to stop his dick from swelling underneath his jeans.
            “Thanks, Sam. That’s kind of you, seeing as we’ve only just met.” Damon said, giving a nervous laugh and still trying to stop what might soon be an awkward situation. Quickly running over things in his head that he found completely disgusting and horrible, he suddenly thought of his brother and Elena together. He shuddered, and the situation below was no longer an issue. Taking a deep breath, he looked back up at Sam. Nothing, good. Damon though, relieved. Sam was still looking at him, a slightly puzzled look on his face. He looked so cute, and Damon had to chuckle. What is wrong with me? Damon thought, confused as to why he was acting this way around Sam.
            “Well, I feel as if I’ve known you for ages. I don’t know Damon, but I just feel like we’ve been good old friends out for a drink to catch up. It’s a good feeling considering my life right now.” Sam said in response to what Damon had said. He looked down at his hands and gave a more somber look. Damon gave a small sigh. Sam was probably the closest to a real friend Damon would ever get, and the only time he could tell someone his problems without worrying they’ll blab to Elena, or Caroline, or anyone else in that stupid circle. Damon looked to Sam, wondering how much he could trust the stranger he just met. Sam said it perfectly, he felt as if they’d known each other forever, and just then he decided to lay out his problems to Sam.
            “Well…, where do I start?” Damon started, finding a spot to begin. “Way back when, there was this girl, Katherine…” And Damon let his story off his chest, with a little editing to remain seemingly human.
--
When Sam and Damon stumbled out of the Grill, it was something close to 2AM. The Grill had just closed, with Sam and Damon being the only two patrons for the last hour. Arms draped over each other, Sam and Damon helped each other out of the door. On the sidewalk they let go of each other.
            “Well I h’d a great time, D’mon. It was jus’ what I needed.” Sam said, his words stringing together in his drunken state.
            “No problem, Sammy. Wait, you didn’t drive here did you?” Damon asked, worried about the possibility of Sam trying to drive back.
            “Nah. I walked here. Nothin’ to worry about.” Sam answered before Damon could worry too much.
            “Ah, good. I’ll see you tomorrow for another round of letting loose?” Damon asked.
            “Yeah. Definitely. See if we can’t beat tonight for fun.” Sam said and laughed. Damon gave a chuckle. Sam started to walk in the direction he thought was the Inn, and somehow found himself feeling concrete beneath his hands, lying on the ground. Damon saw Sam fall, and was by his side in an instant. Sam groaned as Damon helped him off the ground.
            “It looks like you need a walking partner.” Damon told him, as he slung Sam’s arm around his shoulders. Sam, being stubborn, struggled to get loose from Damon’s grip.
            “I do not need h’lp walkin’.” Sam retorted. He tried to walk a few steps on his own, teetering on the last step. But this time Damon was there to catch Sam before he fell.
            “Nope. You don’t need any help walking.” Damon said sarcastically as he put Sam’s arm around him again and gripped Sam’s waist. Jeeze, his torso is built like stone, he thought, and the twitch in his pants that had persisted all night was back. He groaned, hoping it would go away quickly. Damon started to walk, and moved his hand on Sam’s waist to get a better grip. Sam squirmed as Damon moved his hand, and he giggled. Then he stopped giggling and he tried to regain a straight face.
            “Sorry.” Sam tried to make his voice deeper, trying to compensate for his girlish giggle at Damon’s hand movement. “It’s just, that tickled.” He explained. Sam could feel his face go red.
            “Sure. I was just trying to get a better grip on you. You know, you’re pretty heavy.” Damon said, making up the last bit to keep up his human façade. Damon moved his hand back to where he had it. Sam’s skin tingled where Damon slid his hand. Sam blushed again, and they began walking. That shouldn’t feel as good as it does. What is going on with you, Sam? Sam asked himself as they continued the walk to his hotel.
--
Sam was laughing as he pulled Damon down with his weight. They fell to the ground with a thud. Damon was ready to be mad at Sam when he looked at him, and saw him laughing and smiling. Damon sat up, and then he started laughing. They were just two giggling idiots by the side of the road. Sam was lying next to one of the trees that lined the road to the Inn. Damon sat next to Sam, leaning on the trunk of the tree.
            “Man, you have got to be the worst person at drunkenly walking that I’ve ever met. And that’s saying something, coming from me.” Damon said, looking down at Sam, and they both laughed.
            “Yeah, I know. My broth’r alw’ys said I was a horr’ble drunk to walk with.” And Sam turned to look up at the sky. Damon followed Sam’s lead, looking out at the moon. They stayed like this for a few minutes. It was nice and peaceful, and Sam didn’t feel completely broken and lost for the first time in a long while.
            “Hey Sammy, I still gotta take you home. So let’s get you back to your room to sleep off all those drinks.” Damon told Sam. Damon clapped Sam’s thigh, and stood up to help Sam. Pulling him up, he gripped Sam’s torso again, and they walked along. Sam felt his skin tingle all the places where Damon had touched him. Damon pulled Sam closer, and he could feel butterflies in his stomach again. His mind was in a tailspin trying to figure out why he was reacting to Damon’s touch is such a sensitive way.
--
Damon hand was gripping Sam’s chiseled torso as they walked the last stretch to the Inn. Damon was holding Sam closer than necessary, and he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach whenever his and Sam’s bodies touched. He had a hunch as to what the feeling was, but I haven’t been attracted to a man since those few years in the early 70’s, Damon though, pondering how to go about his situation.
Damon was still deep in puzzling thought as Sam led him to the door to his room.
“We have arrived, finally.” Sam said enthusiastically, raising his arms in celebration. He dug into his jeans pocket to fish for his keys.
“Well, you are back safe and sound. Go get some Z’s and I’ll see ya around.” Damon put his hand on Sam’s back, and his hand lingered longer than normal before falling back to his side, and turned to walk to his house.
“Wait, are you ok to walk back by yourself?” Sam prodded, his anxiety at Damon leaving seeping into his voice. Those butterflies quickly turned to acid in his stomach at the thought of Damon leaving and getting hurt walking back. He had an extra bed. It was dark out and there was still something in this town killing people. Sam decided, against the voice in the far back of his head, to ask Damon to crash here. It’s only in the interest of Damon’s safety, Sam told himself.
“I’ll be fine, Sam.” Damon told Sam, giving him a condescending look.
“I know what kind of things can be out there. I think it’s better if you stay here. I have an extra bed, and you can walk back in the morning. It’ll be light out, and it’ll be safer.” The words rushed out of Sam’s mouth, as he frantically tried to get Damon to stay.
“Sam, I…” Damon looked into Sam’s pleading puppy dog eyes, failing to keep his resolve. Damon turned back towards the road to town, and then to the trees he would have to go through to get to his house. For a moment, Damon saw a flash of something hiding nearby in the tree line. “Fine.” Damon answered, giving a defeated sigh as he turned back to Sam. Sam unlocked the door, and Damon followed him in, closing the door and letting a small calculating smile flitter across his face at his quickly formulating plan to seduce the gorgeous man who just invited him in.
--
Looking around the room, Damon didn’t see a lot of personal things. A laptop sat open at the table just inside, and a hefty selection of old books were stacked in a duffle bag in one of the chairs. There was another duffle bag by the head of one of the beds, presumably full of Sam’s clothes. He didn’t see anything else. Man, he travels light. Except for those books. The books sparked his interest, as not many people (including bounty hunters) carried that many books with them. His curiosity peaked, he made a move toward the pile about to ask Sam what was up with them, but Sam cut him off before he could.
            “You can crash on this bed. If you need anythin’, jus’ let me know okay?” Sam said and pointed to the bed farther from the door.
            “Sure thing, Sammy.” Damon said, noticing how Sam’s eyes glazed over for a second with lust at the mention of the nickname. Damon gave a lecherous smile once Sam was coherent again, and sauntered over to the other bed. Sam had his back turned to Damon and took off his shirt and slipped off his boots. Damon’s thoughts turned lustful at the sight of Sam’s bare, muscular back as he undid the buttons on his own shirt.
            Sam turned and sat on the edge of the bed, facing Damon. He thought Damon seemed to eye his chest with a look of hunger. He briefly wondered if he should sleep in his usual, boxers, or find some sweatpants. The quiet, nagging voice in his head told him that in doing that, he might end up doing something foolish. Ignoring the voice that was slowly getting quieter in his head, he yanked his pants off and got into bed.
            Damon was taking his shoes off when Sam yanked off his pants. Damon’s eyes quickly prowled all along the newly uncovered flesh. Sometimes he couldn’t distinguish between the hunger for human blood and the lustful hunger he often felt. But he knew without a doubt that he lusted for Sammy, and on a whole new level of hunger too.
            “G’night, Damon.” Sam groaned, getting comfortable and steadying his breath.
“G’night, Sammy.” Damon said, giving another panty-dropping smile and ghosting his eyes hungrily over Sam before turning out the light between the two beds. Sam gulped at the implication, and tried to leave his heated thoughts about Damon behind and will himself to sleep.

--
Sam snapped awake to a sore throat, and Damon staring down at him with, concern?, in his eyes. He looked around, and saw that it wasn’t yet morning. Looking back up at Damon he saw the panic slowly leave Damon’s features.
            “I’m good.” Sam said finally, sitting up. Damon sat back up, sitting beside Sam.
            “You were having a nightmare I think.” Damon said, looking at Sam. Sam was staring at the opposite wall, nodding. Shaking his head, he turned to Damon.
            “Yeah,” Sam said with a quick, sad smile, “I kinda have those a lot.” Sam gave a sigh and rubbed his face with his hands.
            “So what’s a leviathan?” Damon asked, and at the mention of the name Sam groaned. Sam scooted to the edge of the bed, and sat close next to Damon. He looked into Damon’s eyes, not knowing what he was really looking for. Maybe an answer that wouldn’t send Damon running away thinking he met a crazy man. He thought hard about it as he continued to look at Damon, which must have already seemed creepy.
            Looking away from Damon finally, Sam said, “A leviathan is a name we give to the people we hunt…used to hunt.” Sam added, a little quieter, at the end. Sam was hoping that this explanation was good enough that Damon wouldn’t get suspicious. He kept staring at the ground.
            “It’s kind of a long title. And I thought you called them ‘perps’? Lame as that is.” Damon asked, seeming genuinely interested.
            “It was a brother thing.” Sam said almost immediately, trying to squelch the conversation. He knew Damon was on the verge of knowing too much, but in the depths of Sam’s emotional nucleus he knew he would let Damon know too much.
            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry, but then again prying is kind of what I do.” Damon apologized, putting his hand on Sam’s thigh and giving a small “heh” at the end. Sam’s pulse quickened at the contact, and his lustful thoughts came rushing back, awakening certain parts of his body. And just then Sam was acutely aware of how close he and Damon were. Sam could feel this connection, like electricity buzzing between Damon and him. Sam was also now aware of his heart beating a million times a minute and his breathing fast and shallow. Sam tried to reign in his reaction and end the conversation quickly without Damon realizing anything.
            “It’s ok, Damon.” Sam said, placing a hand on Damon’s chiseled shoulder blade. What am I doing?!?! Sam thought to himself, seeing his limbs move of their own accord.
            “Well I’m glad you forgive me.” Damon breathed, and his lips were on Sam’s the next instant. Sam’s heart leapt in surprise, and before he knew what was happening he was kissing Damon back. Damon raised his hand and raked through Sam’s soft locks of hair, and Sam snaked his hand up to cradle Damon’s face. Sam’s mind was blank, caught in the moment, with Damon’s hand wrapping around his torso. Damon’s unbelievably soft fingertips dipped just underneath the waistband of his boxers, lightly traveling over the skin just at the border and giving Sam little tingly goosebumps.
            Just then, clarity hit Sam over the head with a blunt bang. He stopped his mouth from moving, despite the protest his body responded with, and leaned back to widen the space between him and Damon. Sam looked at Damon with equal parts heat and astonishment. Damon’s face was giving was to a lust-filled and predatory smile, his icy blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight through the window. Sam knew there was no going back, but his body was all too willing to give in.

--
“Well…what do you say Sammy? ” Damon asked in a heady whisper, his breath tickling over Sam’s skin. Sam let out a small exhale, reacting instantly to the way Damon said his rarely-used nickname. Their lips crashed together again in a hasty, heated kiss. Sam cupped Damon’s cheek and put his other hand on Damon’s waist, pulling his down on top of him. Their legs tangled as Damon slipped his tongue into Sam’s mouth. He sucked Damon’s tongue headily, making Damon moan. Sam’s large, rough hands found their way under Damon’s shirt, slowly pushing it up Damon’s back. Damon leaned back and took off his shirt.
Sam’s eyes widened as Damon revealed his pale, ab-riddled torso. It felt odd for Sam to be so aroused by the male body, but here he was, his boxers already tented at the sight of Damon’s chest. Damon unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down to his knees. He leaned back down and kissed Sam as he pulled his jeans the rest of the way off.
Damon lowered his boxer-covered hips, and completely hard dick, to grind against Sam; to which Sam groaned and pulled Damon closer. Sam’s hands wandered over Damon’s back, tugging at his skin whenever their erections grinded together. Damon shifted to one side of Sam on the bed and threaded his fingers through Sam’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Damon began kissing Sam’s jaw line, moving down his neck, eliciting small breathy sighs from Sam. His hand also started moving south, grazing one of Sam’s nipples as it passed. Sam gasped sharply at the touch. Damon’s lips were suckling at his collarbone, giving little flicks of his tongue, which sent tingles down Sam’s spine. Damon’s fingers had reached the apex of Sam’s legs, and Sam inhaled as those fingers slipped past the elastic band of his boxers. Damon looked into Sam’s eyes with a salacious grin as he began to slowly stroke Sam’s considerable length. Sam pulled Damon in for a kiss, moaning against his mouth when Damon rubbed the head of Sam’s cock, spreading his precum.
Regaining clarity, Sam realized he should reciprocate and cautiously placed a hand on Damon’s chest. The skin was slightly colder than he would have thought, but the skin was so soft that Sam didn’t care. He caressed Damon’s chest, making circles around his nipples and pulling them taught. Sam broke their kiss to lick at Damon’s nipples, causing Damon to give a slow, breathy moan. Gaining courage, Sam continued sucking at Damon’s nipples while his hand moved south of the border. Sam gripped Damon’s cock, his hand shaking nervously as he gave the first few strokes. Damon used his free hand to pull up Sam’s chin and looked deep into his eyes, which made everything in Sam’s head go blank.
“Don’t worry. Just think of it as your own.” Damon said in his silky smooth voice. For a second it seemed like Damon’s irises pulsed and Sam blinked. Damon’s eyes looked just as smoky and stunning as ever. Damon gave him a slow, sensual kiss as Sam’s hand started to stroke Damon’s length again. Damon let out a guttural moan when Sam sucked his lower lip and tugged at it softly. Both men’s breathing began to get heavy as they stroked each other faster and tighter. Their heady breaths and moaning seemed to canonize as their hands continued touching each other, sending tingles throughout their bodies. Damon was stroking Sam’s dick with perfect dexterity, earning moans of appreciation and breathy commands for more. Damon slowly pulsed his hips forward in time with Sam’s strokes.
Suddenly Sam was moving, pushing back on Damon’s chest to lie on his back on the bed. Sam, with one hand on Damon’s dick, used it as a steady post while he straddled Damon’s hips. With the new position, Damon had an unabashed sight of Sam’s God-like physique. His fingers feathered over Sam’s muscles, seemingly enthralled by Sam’s muscular body. He looked up to see Sam staring down at him with heavy-lidded eyes full of lust. Sam’s hand started stroking faster, and Damon filled with raging lust, stroking Sam with equal fervor. The sounds of heavy panting filled the room.
Sam and Damon were rutting against each other as the lust for each other escalated. Sam loved the feeling of Damon’s hands on him while he grinded on Damon’s cock. Soon Sam felt a familiar feeling deep in his groin as his balls tightened up at record speed. “Damon…I th- …uh, shit…com-…” Sam tried to give Damon warning as his orgasm spread through his whole body, and coherency fell over the edge of coherency. Damon stroked him through as Sam jerked his hips forward, spilling on Damon’s chest. Damon was painfully hard; watching Sammy orgasm had to be one of the most erotic things he’d seen in a very long time.
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