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Hot Blooded	By : KittyAugust Category: Supernatural > Crossovers Views: 995 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor Constantine nor the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Hot Blooded
- 1
Zed gasped as she felt the first edge of a vision come over her. She should have known that touching that car might cause something.
When John told her about Carver Edlund, and the writing that he used to channel his visions the same way she used her art, she sought the books out immediately. She had been fascinated by the idea of someone else like her. Of course she had read all the books - looking for clues about the now missing author. She even read all the unofficial ones online. No one was surprised by that.
What she was less willing to admit was that she actually kind of loved them in all their trashy glory - even knowing they were true, knowing someone actually had to feel all that pain, she still couldn’t help enjoying reading and re-reading some of them. Swan Song was even her favourite, not just because it was the best written but also because of what it meant to the stories and to the less-than-fictional men in them.
The point was, even before she met the Winchester brothers she knew what this particular car meant to them, to the world, and maybe even to John. She should have expected something. But she never could have suspected what she actually got.
She was laughing at something Sam had said as he opened the cat door for her. Distracted. Not thinking about what she touched and didn’t touch for a moment. She placed her hand on the roof of the Impala to slide into the back seat and that was when the vision hit her hard and fast on contact. The world spun and it was suddenly night not day and all she could see was…

...John standing under a lamppost almost leaning back on it. He is wearing an older, longer version of his current trenchcoat and lighting a cigarette by the cloudy orange light of the single lamp above him.
The vision pulls back, like the camera in a movie, a wide view of an almost deserted car-park outside a worn down roadside motel. John is obviously waiting for something. Or someone.
The Impala pulls into the parking lot as Zed watches, unseen but seeing in the night. It pulls to a sudden halt in front of John and a much younger Dean Winchester gets out, slamming the door behind him. He winces at the sound and mutters, “Sorry baby,” to the car before remembering his anger and turning back to John.
He stomps right up and puts himself mere inches from John’s face - bristling with some kind of righteous indignation. John, being John, just smirks at him.
“Need a hand, Winchester?” John says before Dean can start to speak (or yell). He says it like a come on. Like pure innuendo - blatant even for John. Zed rolls her metaphorical eyes. The camera of Zed’s vision homes back in on the two men. A close, slightly too intimate shot.
“I said stay the fuck away from me, Constantine,” Dean snaps. Presses a finger into John’s chest like a warning. “I told you this…” Dean looks away and pauses. Like he can’t keep eye contact even though he’s still obviously angry. Would rather give ground than acknowledge what he’s saying, “...thing has got to stop.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, mate,” John says, tone still much lighter than the words seem to deserve. He removes Dean’s finger from his chest. Dean doesn’t struggle which is weird - he just lets John turn his hand palm up, hold his wrist and uncurl his fingers for him with the other hand. “I’m here ‘bout the case,” John continues, smug as usual. “Also, thought you might want this back.”
John balances his cigarette in his lips the way that always annoys Zed for unknowable reasons. He keeps hold of Dean’s wrist with one hand and reaches into his pocket with the other. He pulls out a little black... mouse? Yeah it is. A living, breathing, nose twitching mouse. What could that possibly symbolise? He places the rodent on Dean’s palm. And Dean looks down at it with soft frown that Zed finds hard to imagine on the older man she just met.
“It’s your watch,” Constantine says simply, almost soft, but the way his face moves suggests he just won a point in some battle Zed still doesn’t understand.
“Yeah.” Dean sounds oddly breathless. “I guessed.”
They both look down at the mouse. It seems perfectly happy to just chill on Dean’s hand. They’re still mere inches apart. They may have even moved closer. John takes the cigarette out of his mouth, flicks the ash to the side but keeps his eyes on Dean. When Dean looks up his breath catches, their eyes meet and Zed can’t really read what happens there even in her own vision.
Constantine’s eyes narrow and he drop’s Dean’s wrist at last. He blows smoke back over his shoulder which also lets him lean back away from the hunter. Dean almost seems to lean in closer, chase him for a second and John goes more still than Zed’s ever seen him be in real life. Then the moment breaks and Dean shakes his head, takes half a step back.
“If my dad found out, he’d fucking kill…” Dean steps back properly, puts at least a foot between them and trails off. Doesn’t elaborate on what or whom he thinks will get killed. He places the mouse carefully in his breast pocket without looking back at Constantine.
“That’s not a very good reason, mate.” John sounds flat, almost sad, almost sorry but he’s just watching Dean really closely with his weight on his back foot like he’s still not sure if Dean’s going to hit him. This is a really confusing vision.
“Yeah, well… it’s the one I got,” Dean snaps back.
Dean turns around and leans both hands on the hood of the Impala. He even kicks the tire viciously. Far more vicious than Zed would expect from a guy who calls his car ‘baby’ and runs his hands on it the way she’s already seen him do twice in the few hours she’s known him.
From her invisible vantage point Zed can see John almost reach out to put a hand on Dean’s shoulder then take it back before the hunter turns around to look at him. If she hadn’t seen it she would have assumed John had remained slightly defensive but casually leaning against the lamppost the whole time. Dean leans back against his car, almost sitting on the hood, and watches John warily. Like a cornered animal, Zed thinks, and that isn’t a description she ever expected to give to Dean Winchester. His relaxed posture is obviously faked.
“It’s a…” John starts to say.
Dean runs a rough hand down his face. Seems to have come to some kind of decision.
“I don’t fucking care, John,” Dean snaps.
“I think you do, mate. More’n I do anyroad.”
“Fuck you, Hellblazer.”
John laughs, harsh and not quite genuine. He does that a lot when people call him that. She still doesn’t really know what it’s all about.
“I thought your point was not to fuck me, actually.” It’s John that moves this time. Drops the cigarette, grinds it under his shoe then surges suddenly right up into Dean’s personal space.
Oh… oh! Wow. Zed did not see that coming. But now she has she’s not sure how she didn’t.
She can’t quite tell who moves first but she thinks it’s John. He leans down but it’s definitely Dean who reaches up and puts a hand on the back of John’s head to pull him into it. It’s a short and hard but slightly frantic, needy kind of kiss.
Dean’s eyes go a little wild when he pulls back and even Zed can tell the moment that John has pushed his luck a little too far.
“Don’t,” Dean says with an edge of desperation. He shoves John back hard enough to make him stumble.
John doesn’t really back off, even when Dean stands. He moves to step back towards Dean despite the bristling anger but Zed is still surprised when Dean catches John with his right hook. She knows from the books and just from seeing him that even at this age he can hit harder than he does, it’s still enough to split John’s lip. There’s a mark on John’s cheek from the silver ring that Dean no longer wears.
John’s grinning as he catches his balance, it has a familiar manic edge. He licks his lip, chasing the kiss or checking for blood - it’s hard to tell. Dean watches the movement like he can’t help it. Holds himself ready for a fight but doesn’t seem to want one despite starting it.
John doesn’t hit back. Thank god. He just laughs again. Still too rough and cold.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, luv.” John smirks at Dean like getting smacked in the face is some kind of victory. “I’ll break the curse. You go finish up your little identity crisis.”
Dean tenses up like he’s seriously considering throwing another punch. Glares at Constantine for half a breath then turns sharply on his heel and stomps into a nearby hotel room instead. The way he slams the door leaving no doubt that it isn’t opening again.
John watches the door for a few minutes.
“Fuck,” John says quietly, once he catches his breath. “Sometimes you’re a real bleeding wanker, Constantine.”
He says it to himself and Zed can hear the special tone he reserves for self-loathing. Zed’s not sure how she feels about that - watching John get hit in the face then beat himself up about it seems to be a major part of her life now. And okay he pushed his luck in typical Constantine fashion, he shouldn’t have kissed Dean like that but at the same time there’s so much more going on there than she’s seen - she’s certain of it. Overall the whole thing has a creepy masochistic edge that she can’t quite reconcile. She suspects he would’ve let it get a lot more violent and she just doesn’t know what to do with that information. Doesn’t know if he was trying to get Dean to hit him and doesn’t know if that makes the whole thing better or worse.
He presses his split lip with a thumb, testing for the bruising that doesn’t show yet but will in an hour or two. He shakes his head - at himself or Dean, it’s unclear, maybe both, then turns to walk away from the motel.
He stops short when he nearly walks into a tall, well muscled black guy though. Which is probably the logical reaction really. The guy is gorgeous, that is immediately obvious. He knows it too. He’s all sleek lines under a black leather jacket and a way too tight black tee-shirt. The deep v-neck shows the very edge of scarification - initials maybe? Equally tight black jeans and an ass that would make Zed take a second look if it wasn’t a vision. As it is her vision is giving her a pervy full body glide anyway. He’s wearing what look like dog-tags but on closer inspection seem more like little licence plate prints. Zed’s pretty sure he’s some kind of modern day Adonis.
“Hellblazer,” the guy almost purrs his greeting. If his body wasn’t enough to make anyone want him then that voice is. It’s like sex and velvet and dark chocolate all at once. If she was corporeal then Zed’s pretty sure it would make her weak at the knees.
It doesn’t seem to have quite that affect on John though. Or if it does it doesn’t stop him from taking an obvious step back.
“We met, mate?” John asks suspiciously. He moves surreptitiously away, shifts his weight and brings a hand to his pocket. Holy water maybe?
“Oooh yes, John. More than once,” Mr Sex says while blatantly checking John out. The look he gives the exorcist seems to suggest he wants to eat him. And given the nature of John’s life and Zed’s visions maybe he does. “You’ve been intimately acquainted with my back seat, for example.”
There’s a pause there while John’s eyes widen slightly and Mr Sex gives him a long, appreciative look that, honestly, no one who looks like thatshould be giving to a slightly bruised John Constantine.
“Shit,” John mutters. They both look to the left where the car was parked moments ago. It’s gone. “The bloody car?” John says like he knows it’s true but doesn’t want to believe it.
“Mmm hmm,” says Mr Sex.
“Listen, kid…”
“I’m five years older than you,” the guy interrupts and moves smoothly closer to John.
John laughs but this time it’s genuine. “Yeah an’ you’ve been human less ‘en a minute. Gives me the edge, mate.”
Mr Sex (possibly the Mr Impala? Seriously?) runs a hand softly along John’s jaw. John lets him.
“He’s actually gonna kill me,” John mutters a moment before he’s kissing Mr Impala.
They kiss themselves breathless for way longer than Zed is comfortable with. Mr Impala pushes John into the shadows where a brick fence meets the edge of the motel building. They’re hidden from view and outside of the light but in the way of visions Zed can still see so very much more than she wants to. She sees the way John arches up into the person he’s kissing, sees the way his hands grip and pull the guy closer, she hears the way he almost whimpers when his hair is pulled just so.
Mr Impala pulls back. “How long have I got?” he asks John, as though he fully expects John to know. Which apparently he does.
“An hour? Maybe less? Lasts ‘til midnight.” John’s breathless but still vaguely in control of himself.
“Good,” Mr Impala purrs and pushes forward to start kissing and biting along John’s jaw. Slides one perfectly formed thigh between John’s legs and arches up in a way that is anything but subtle. John’s reaction leaves very little to the imagination either, unfortunately. “There’s a lot of things I want to try…”
“Don’t you wanna…” John gasps out. “At least talk to…”
“No,” and that’s a growl not a purr. “He freaking kicked me, man.” He sounds offended. More like a cat than a car. Not that Zed has any basis for real comparison.
“He probably didn’t mean… oh god…”
John’s words are cut off as Mr Impala presses his body against John’s and slides hard to his knees. He grins up at John and Zed could swear his teeth are so white they’re almost silver.
“Call me Baby,” he says in that same seductive purr that is now obviously just as effective on John and it would be on Zed. He nuzzles into John’s incredibly, uncomfortably obvious erection (not for the first time Zed wishes she could move in her visions, or at least look away).
John mumbles something that sounds a lot like “‘’is gonna fucking murder me.” He bangs his head against the brick wall behind him, then more audible says, “Go on then, Baby.” Sounds a bit like he’s giving up on himself.
Baby purrs again then he’s got hands on John’s belt. John moans when the guy’s a bit too rough with the belt then they’re both scrambling for John’s fly.
“I know what I’m doing,” Baby says and pushes John’s hands away. He even seems a little offended. “I remember the time He did this to you on my hood, goddamn that was hot.”
Zed hears the capitalised emphasis. Like the He they’re discussing is God, but she’s pretty sure Baby means Dean Winchester. Which probably makes some kind of twisted sense if you’re a car.
John groans but lets the human fucking car get a hand on his cock. Oh god why! Sure John and Zed flirt, sure she might one day let herself take the little punk for a spin, but this? Not the way she wanted to find any of this shit out. She’s still not even really sure she ever wanted to find this stuff out. And if she did this is not at all how she would have planned it.
Baby does in fact seem to know what he’s doing and apparently anthropomorphic vehicles don’t require a gag reflex. Just what Zed always wanted to know. John is apparently more impressed than Zed however, and Baby’s pretty quickly working him up into a whimpering scrabbling mess. The name on his lips when he comes isn’t Baby but whatever it was he manages to swallow it back before he slumps forward slightly.
Baby slides back up John’s body and kisses him slow and deep, like he knows just what John wants. Maybe he does. He’s apparently had an courtside seat for some stuff that Zed should probably not try and imagine.
“Anythin’ else you’re dying to try, Baby?” John asks. He gets his hands under the tee-shirt for the first time. Seems to dig his nails in and Baby arches into it.
“Mmm, I can think of a thing or two.”
“Yeah?” John says and arches one eyebrow. His expression can only be called coy. And that’s kind of so un-Constantine that it’s almost adorable. “You got access to your, um, contents?”
Baby nods and smiles like sin. He seems to get whatever it is that John is hinting at and reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a bottle that could not possibly fit in jeans that tight and… oh dear gods no.
John grins back and plunges forward to kiss the guy again. Gets a hand on the firm bulge in those too tight jeans and moans almost as loud as Baby does when he does it. They move together in a way that would be hot if she didn’t feel like such an uninvited voyeur. It is kind of interesting to see that John stays just as into it, if not more, after he’s already come down the guy’s throat. And oh Jesus why does Zed have to know what that looks like.
John seems to have noticed time passing because now he’s tugging at Baby’s belt a little more hurriedly than before - it has a silver Impala belt buckle. Of course it does. John urges the anthropomorph half out of his jeans (the car apparently goes commando and has a tattoo on hi ass that looks a lot like the curse box sigils she’s seen around the mill house).
John takes the bottle out of the guy’s hands and uses the gel to slick up Mr Impala’s cock while they kiss again. Baby looks borderline overcome by the sensation of a slick handjob alone and for a moment Zed thinks this is as bad as it’ll get. Then John is dropping his coat off his shoulders and spinning himself so he’s face to the fence, feet planted wide and one arm up to rest his head against. Damn it. It’s like he’s living to traumatise her even when he doesn’t know she’s there.
“How…” Baby starts to say but John’s shaking his head to whatever that’s about. It’s the sort of shorthand communication that first time lovers shouldn’t have.
“Just do it, mate. Trust me.”
There’s a second of hot tension and then Baby is pressing John into the brick fence and pressing up and into John at the same time. John gasps like he’d been drowning and arches back. The car seems utterly entranced - and why wouldn’t he be he was technically a virgin after all. Oh that’s a creepy thought. He’s still pushing forward slow but firm as John gasps through whatever it is he’s feeling. There’s a jolt and they both go still for a few moments.
Then John’s talking, “Fuck me, Baby.” And he’s grinning as he says it. But it’s an oddly vicious, nasty kind of grin that Zed doesn’t really want to think about. Although maybe that would be better than thinking about what she’s really watching.
Baby grunts and starts to really move. He’s got one of those gloriously formed arms planted on the wall beside of John’s body and the other bruising firm on John’s hip - so he has a lot of leverage. They find some kind of rhythm which has John grunting and moaning and only half breathing. And Baby makes this deep, rumbling purring ‘mmm’ of a sound that is so unusual but still incredibly erotic. Zed kind of wants to die.
She wishes it wasn’t as hot as it is. Wishes she hadn’t noticed that John gets his free arm, the one he’s not leaning on, between himself and the wall. At first she assumes it’s just to protect sensitive flesh from the rough brick wall but no… that is totally what John Constantine looks like when he jacks himself off while a massive guy fucks him from behind. Zed somehow notes that it’s a pretty good refractory time - why the Hell did she have to have that thought? Can you go for Hell for seeing things you didn’t choose to see?
It doesn’t actually take that long until Baby is gasping into the back of John’s neck and pretty obviously coming hard. John makes a half sobbed sound and tells him to “Stay, just…” but that’s all he gets out. Closes his eyes and jerks himself off with Baby still pressed up into him. Then John’s shuddering and gasping into that second orgasm before the anthropomorph can slip out. They both still and lean into each other, a moment of cooling calm as the last moments of adrenaline and endorphin fade. There’s a breeze and it’s night - it must be cold on their exposed skin. John catches his breathe little by little. Baby kisses the Hellblazer’s neck while he waits for John to come back to himself.
They disentangle themselves and John turns in the Impala’s arms. He gives the car-man a curious look then reaches up to pull him back down into a slow kiss.
“Ten minutes,” John says when the kiss breaks. It’s only slightly panted now. “Are you sure you don’t want to…”
“I’m sure.” Baby looks away a he speaks and it reminds Zed of Dean earlier. Not just their proximity but the almost bashful tilt of the face to break eye contact.
“Alright,” John seems to accept the answer. Then, “You know… after. I’ve got to… the thing that’s causing this it’ll go in a sodding box and this’ll be the last time you’ll be...”
Baby nods and pulls away from John. They both reassemble their clothes. Zed’s almost disappointed Baby never got his shirt off but she supposes she’ll have to live. This vision has been enough of a voyeuristic hell-ride as it was.
Baby’s just wandering back to his parking space when the sharp pain starts.
John looks her in the eye and says, “Zed? Zed… you gotta wake up, luv...”

...Zed wakes up on the grass next to the much more car shaped Impala, with two faces and in the midday sun in her eyes. Sam on one side and Constantine on the other both bending over her like a pair of concerned ducks. She can also see Dean standing off to one side, arms crossed and trying not to look as concerned as the other two.
“I’m fine,” she says trying to wave off the two hovering men. She’s a little too woozy to fully pull it off but Sam helps her sit up. She only hesitates for a moment before letting him guide her to lean back against the car.
“What was it?” John asks - still crouched down near her but backed off to give her room to breathe. He’s not wearing his coat, it was folded under her head she realises, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up. Ready for action. Ready for her vision to mean some terrible thing the need to solve. She almost laughs.
“You,” she says accusingly, “had sex with a car! How is that even possible? You fucked a fucking car, John.”
She’s pretty sure she wanted him to be confused, or maybe supercilious, and tell her it was all symbolic. But instead he just starts laughing and in that moment she knows it was all real and she’s not sure if she’s going to throw up or scream.
“Technically,” John gasps out, “the car fucked me…”
“What was that?” Dean snaps, glaring at John like he’s already starting to do the math.
She’s starting to recover and suddenly Dean’s aggression seems a little less harmless. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything about that with him here? It might have been years for them but for her it was less than an hour ago that Dean punched Constantine in the jaw. John doesn’t seem worried though, only amused.
He looks up at Dean and now she knows what to look for she can see the edge of coy flirtation in his eyes. Dean glares, John shrugs and smirks.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Dean says. “Seriously?”
John nods and bites his lip trying not to laugh again. Dean’s horrified and slightly jealous expression obviously isn’t helping John’s self-control.
“That curse case in Utah? And you… with my freaking car, man!”
“Yeah… sorry, mate. What can I say. ‘Spose the car just liked me more’n you did.”
Now that Zed knows what to look for Dean doesn’t look like he thinks that’s possible. May even mutter something that sounds suspiciously like "doubt it." Which is kinda sweet and kinda creepy.
Sam is pressing a bottle of water into Zed’s hands and she wants to acknowledge it or something but she also doesn’t want to look away from the spectacle in front of her. Emotions rushing across the elder Winchester’s face so fast you could blink and miss them. Incredulous confusion seems to be the major theme.
John gives up on self restraint and just starts laughing again pretty quickly. It borders on a giggle. Dean doesn’t seem impressed by that.
“My actual fucking car!” Dean repeats as though that will somehow make John see reason. It doesn’t. He offers John a hand up which John even accepts. She's really not sure how she didn't see it before.
"You're not gonna murder me right?" John is asking quietly, still trying to stop laughing. Zed is almost certain she wasn't meant to hear that even though it still sounds like a joke.
"Nah, not today," Dean says grumpily. Still glaring. Also definitely standing a tiny bit too close. Bless.
John rolls his eyes which seems an odd reaction to a reassurance that you're not about to get gutted.
“Are you going to be okay getting in the, um, car?” Sam asks her. He still isn’t sure what happened but he’s obviously picking up some of the subtext by now. He’s a clever boy after all. The fact that Dean is jealous is blatant - although she suspects even Dean isn't sure what he's most upset about.
“Yeah,” she says, looking away from John and Dean to let Sam help her into the car. Getting in the backseat actually not as weird as it should be. "Thanks."
Through her impending migraine she hears Dean ask, “So, um, what’d she look like?” Nervous, as though he doesn’t want to ask but has to know.
She tries not to laugh – he might take it from John but she doesn’t know how he’d feel about it from her.
“He, Winchester,” John says and Zed can hear the smug leer in John’s voice even when she can’t see it. “What’d he look like.”
“Oh…”
Zed kind of wants to turn around and find out if John just made the mighty Dean Winchester blush. But she’s done enough uninvited observation for one day, so she pulls Sam into the car with her and falls asleep using his shoulder for a pillow instead.
- 1
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Hot Blooded