|Fic: As Above, So Below||[Jul. 16th, 2009|08:32 pm]|
Title: As Above, So Below|
Beta’d by: gestaltrose, who did an amazing job and any remaining mistakes are all my own.
Warnings: Wincest. Wax and some bodily fluids used in ritual. Uh, I think that’s it.
Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? Do any of you think that I might own these boys? Because I don’t own them, I just wish I did. I do like to make them play together. In other words – please don’t sue.
Notes: This is for Missa who used her freaky mind powers to put the idea of Sam & Dean sexin’ on an elephant in muh head. I couldn’t figure out how to have them on a real elephant so this is what you get. I also play with the geography of NJ to better suit my need. Ha.
Sam was secretive. Dean was used to it and for once in his life, he was actually grateful for it. Because, you see, the thing about demons is that the bastards are fairly literal. It didn’t take long for Sam to figure this out and once he did the youngest Winchester made sure to explain it to Dean. Often. Usually in excruciating detail as if Dean was a five year old. So maybe it didn’t help that the last time Sammy chose to discuss it they were at a diner and Dean felt the appropriate response was to show Sam the half-chewed burger and fries in his mouth. But, still.
What it came down to was that as long as Dean didn’t know what Sam was doing then everything was a-okay. He could suspect, have a strong hunch, or even a bone deep certainty that Sam was working on breaking his contract with the Crossroad’s Demon, but until Sam actually told him that… it was all supposition. Supposition was allowed, hell it was how demon’s got around most things in the first place. For once, the mighty Winchester way of not talking about things was working in their favor.
Which is how Dean came to be naked in an elephant in New Jersey. Not a real elephant, but a roadside attraction affectionately named ‘Lucy’. Lucky for them it was November, so the giant elephant was closed for business on Mondays and Tuesdays. The boys could be there and gone before anyone was wiser.
In reality, the ritual had taken place over several days, each night at exactly 11:27 pm. That was the time that Dean made his deal, so that was the time that each phase of the ritual must begin. Sam was quiet and secretive, only allowing Dean to know bits and pieces of the whole. Each night Dean was securely blindfolded as Sam performed each part of the ritual. All Dean knew was that each night he was stripped naked and anointed with a different fluid; arcane patterns were painted on his bare skin by his brother’s hand.
The only other thing that he knew was that he had to abstain from sex and red meat during the ritual. Being denied one was torture enough, but being deprived of both? Dean felt that he must have the patience of a saint. Irony intended, of course.
Tonight was different though, the ritual this evening had to be performed above the land, below the sky, and within sight of sea. Suspended in the hollow belly of the wooden elephant fulfilled the first requirement and the fact that the beast’s eyes were windows to the ocean fit the second quite nicely. Sam had almost despaired at the esoteric instructions until he literally stumbled over Lucy, the Margate Elephant. There had been a display rack with flyers for the pachyderm in a New York gift shop that Sam, with his gigantor feet, had tripped over.
There was a hush that was almost unnatural, even the sound of the sea was blocked by the thick wood of the elephant’s hide. Sam had a salt circle encasing one of chalk that had alchemical symbols drawn in crushed herbs around the border. Their only light were three black pillar candles that threw jagged shadows around the inside of the roadside attraction, lending it an almost sinister air. Sam made an impatient motion for Dean to begin stripping and Dean tried to hide a wince. It was November in New Jersey; he knew it was going to be damn cold.
Without any of his normal complaining Dean began to pull off his clothes. He left them in a surprisingly tidy pile just outside the salt ring and stepped carefully into the circle. Dean did throw a reproachful glance at Sam, making sure his brother knew that he was chilly and uncomfortable.
Sam, with his normal aplomb, ignored Dean and placed a thin red taper near the closest black candle. Dean waited while Sam fished the thick cloth from his back pocket to tie around Dean’s eyes. Dean, being true to the spirit of the endeavor, always closed his eyes and refused to open them until Sam removed the blindfold. Once Sam was certain that the blindfold was secure, he directed Dean with light touches until Dean was lying in the center of the circle.
Whatever incantation Sam had to say was muttered under the younger Winchester’s breath, Dean could neither make out the language nor the words being used. Even if he could, he would have done his best to ignore the sounds to help keep up his plausible deniability. Once Sam’s low murmuring had ceased Dean heard Sam begin to remove his clothes. Dean swallowed audibly, anticipation helping to warm him in the chill night air.
The next sounds from Sam were anything but what Dean expected, the slight rasp of skin on skin that turned into the unmistakable sounds of Sam masturbating. From the few clues he had been given, Dean had guessed that tonight’s ritual would culminate in sex magic. This, however, wasn’t quite what Dean had hoped for. He longed to ask what Sam was doing but part of his role was to silently accept whatever happened.
After a respectable amount of time Sam quietly moaned his release and after a moment Dean felt the tip of a paint brush swiping against his skin. The fluid Sam was using was viscous and warm, Dean’s breathing hitched as he realized that Sam was marking him with his semen. From his throat down to the soles of Dean’s feet were covered in small brush strokes mapping out abstruse sigils.
Sam leaned back once he was finished and Dean knew that Sam was lighting the red candle. He tried to brace himself for what would come next; Dean knew he would have to remain motionless so as not to disturb the markings Sam was going to make.
As the hot wax dripped onto his pale skin Dean inhaled against the sharp, quick pain. He tried to keep his breathing as even as possible to make the intricate work easier for Sam. As the candle dripped wax in thin patterns Dean felt himself responding the stimulation. It was difficult to keep silent when he heard the soft chuffing of Sam’s muffled laughter. He bit his tongue, though; it wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t seen him with an erection before.
By the time Sam reached Dean’s feet, Dean was rock hard and straining to remain still. He felt overly warm now from the stimulation and prayed that once this was over he would be able to slake his lust. Sam, devil that he was, leaned over Dean and whispered in his ear: “Soon.”
Once the wax had dried, Sam positioned himself over Dean and leaned down to begin licking the sigils onto Dean’s skin over the hardened wax. The light pressure of Sam’s tongue without really being able to feel it was torture and Dean thrashed his head for a moment. Sam paused, waiting until Dean was able to control himself again. Before too long, Sam had reached the markings on Dean’s stomach and Dean’s cock began to twitch with anticipation.
“Not yet,” Sam whispered, his breath ghosting against Dean’s hip. Dean whimpered lowly, the sound barely escaping his clamped lips.
As Sam’s tongue traced the strange symbols on Dean’s thigh, Dean became aware that Sam’s own erection was back. That knowledge alone almost sent Dean over the edge, but Sam’s blunt fingers dug into his brother’s thigh and the pain helped to ease Dean away from his orgasm. He could feel Sam shaking with repressed laughter and badly wanted to remind his brother that he hadn’t had sex in over a week. Sam already knew that though and it wasn’t worth ruining the ritual to remind him.
Just as Dean was certain that he couldn’t handle this new form of sexual sadism that Sam had created, Sam was done. Dean gave a soft sigh of relief, knowing that they had just one more hurdle and the ritual would be complete. He wished, briefly, that he knew what was coming next but instinctually shied away from that line of thought. The less he knew, the better.
In an almost Pavlovian response, Dean felt his cock jump at the sound of the lid being flipped open on a bottle of lube. He almost gave a cry of thanks, but managed to strangle the sound before it was vocalized. Sam was leaning over him again and Dean allowed his legs to fall open to give Sam access. As Sam’s well greased fingers entered him, Sam mouthed the word ‘together’ against Dean’s neck. Dean nodded to show that he understood.
Dean wanted to tell his brother not to bother with the foreplay which was almost overwhelming, he wanted Sam to slide home and be balls deep within himself. In an unsubtle bid to get his way, Dean canted his hips upward in a silent invitation. With the sure annoyance that only younger brothers can give, Sam ignored Dean by kissing him. Sam’s tongue flicked over Dean’s lips in tempo with his fingers and Dean couldn’t stop his hips from pumping. Dean’s cock was searching for any friction possible to help end his misery.
“Shhhh,” Sam breathed as he smiled against Dean’s lips. With another deep kiss, Sam added a third finger and Dean couldn’t help the whimpering that escaped him.
Sam leaned back and wrapped his fingers harshly against the base of Dean’s cock before sliding into Dean. Dean, again, couldn’t hold back the groan that rose out of him. Sam fit inside him perfectly and Dean began writhing beneath his brother. Sam, with more patience than Dean, began to slowly rock into his brother. With perfect concentration Sam would swivel his hips at just the right moment to hit that spot in Dean that made him see stars.
For one wild moment Dean was aware of the monumental unfairness of the situation. Sammy had already come once while Dean was fighting against a week, a week, of abstinence. Sam had released his vice like hold on Dean’s cock and his fingers were grasping Dean’s hips as if to pull his brother closer. Dean just had to hold on a bit longer though, already Sam’s breathing was changing and his thrusts stuttering. A cocky grin split Dean’s face to know that he could make Sam lose control so easily.
Sam leaned back, his thrusts becoming shallower so that he could grasp Dean’s cock again. He tapped once on Dean’s stomach as a warning that Sam was close as he closed his hand around Dean’s cock and began pumping. Dean, wanting to take matters into his own hands, slid his fingers around Sam’s and helped. Sam gave a harsh, guttural cry and began to twist his fist on the up stroke to better hit the bundle of nerves under the head of his brother’s cock making the pleasure crest on the right side of painful.
Just as Sam stiffened and moaned in orgasm, Dean began to fountain come onto his belly. Sam, trying to push deeper into Dean, slid the fingers of his other hand through Dean’s semen spreading a slick and sticky mess across his brother’s skin. As the languor after release hit Sam he slumped over Dean, mouthing against his brother’s neck in an almost kiss.
Sam managed to collect himself and pulled the blindfold off Dean, a silly grin on his features.
“’m glad you’re proud of yourself,” Dean chided half-heartedly. He was feeling pretty fucked out and was enjoying the lassitude from it.
Sam merely grunted in response and heaved himself up to grab a towel and a bottle of water. Haphazardly he splashed some of the liquid onto the white hotel towel and began to clean the come off them, as well as brushing the remaining red wax from Dean’s skin. Dean, less inclined to be mobile propped himself up on his elbows to watch his brother work.
“Move your lazy ass, we have a crossroads to get to,” Sam grunted as he began pulling his clothes on.
“I will. You still have all this shit to clean up though,” Dean told him with a perfectly serious face. Sam simply tossed the damp towel at his brother’s head, knowing that would be response enough. Dean sighed but began to work in tandem with his brother to eradicate all traces that they had ever been there. He just hoped that heavy scent of sex would clear out of the elephant before they opened for business again.
Dean opted to take the first leg of the drive. It would take them almost twelve hours of driving to reach the nearest crossroads that could be used for summoning. They didn’t want to risk setting the demon loose near an area with any sort of population. The brother’s had already agreed that they would split the driving so that they could reach it before Dean was due to meet the demon.
Feeling sated and just a touch sore, Dean blasted his music. Sam hid a grin, unsure if his brother was just relishing his last hours or if he was so certain that Sam had freed him. It wouldn’t do to ask, they both had to remain ignorant of what the other was thinking for just a few hours more. Sam’s smile twisted into a smirk. Oh. If only they all knew.
At the six-hour mark, Dean pulled over and swapped places with Sam. As soon as Dean was settled in the passenger’s seat he began to softly snore. It was a little after noon when Sam reached the deserted area that they had picked. Yarrow grew sparsely near the edges of the road, proving that it was perfect for their plans. They were early yet; Dean couldn’t summon the demon until the sun had set so Sam killed the engine and leaned back to rest.
The harsh clamor of Dean’s cell phone alarm woke them just before five. Already the sky was darkening into violet and the Winchester’s got out of the car.
“So. This is it, Sammy. We see if your big plan is gonna work,” Dean said, his face turned away from his brother.
Sam nodded even though he knew Dean couldn’t see him. Dean wouldn’t have to. They were always so in tune with each other, it amazed Sam that his brother hadn’t figured out what he was doing. Misdirection and sleight of hand, Dean’s hope made it easy to fool him.
Without giving Sam a chance to say anything, Dean walked purposely into the center of the crossroads. The sun was almost down, just a thin sliver on the horizon. As the last rays slid below the mountains, Dean said a short calling charm in Latin. Sam smiled; he always loved the way the dead language sounded falling from Dean’s lips.
The air seemed to warp and bend before the demon appeared, this time wearing the body of young woman who seemed barely out of her teens. Sam almost laughed at the look of disappointment that flitted across Dean’s face. Obviously his brother was hoping for another busty brunette.
“My, my, my. Dean Winchester’s come early to the dance,” the demon clucked, fluffing her shoulder length sandy hair with one neatly manicured hand. Her large blue eyes tracked Dean’s movement as he stepped toward her.
“I thought it would be rude to keep you waiting,” Dean grinned, venom lacing the words.
The demon reached out, as if her nails could snag Dean’s soul from his chest. She made a pouting moue as if she had hit a barrier. Her thin fingers wouldn’t, quite, touch Dean.
“Have you been a naught boy? It won’t matter, Dean, I’ll still take you with me,” she almost snarled the last bit. Dean simply shrugged and watched aggravation paint her cheeks with a pink blush.
“Actually, I’m afraid I’m the one who’s been ‘naughty’,” Sam piped up and waved gaily at the demon.
With a slight snarl, the demon pushed her fingers toward Dean again only to find an invisible wall blocking her from her prize. Her pleasantly pretty face twisted into an angry grimace as she tried again and again to put her hands on Dean and claim him. Sam, adding to her fury, began to laugh mockingly.
“What have you done? Neither of you can break the contract or else little Sammy will turn into a rotting meat bag. You can only prolong the inevitable for so long,” she hissed, spittle flying from her lips. Her eyes glowed a dark red and her petite hands had hooked into claws.
“I’m not trying to break your contract, I merely superseded it,” Sam answered pleasantly. Dean flicked a glance at Sam to see his brother leaning insouciantly against the Impala.
“You can’t do that,” the demon said but there was a hesitation in her voice.
“I can. You do know who I am, right?” Sam asked lazily. Dean’s stomach sank as he realized what Sammy had done. The ritual hadn’t been to free Dean; it had been to bind Dean to Sam. It probably had the added benefit of awakening Sam’s latent psychic abilities. Sam wouldn’t want to go to Hell defenseless, Dean snarled internally. However, as the demon whirled back to him, Dean held up his hands to show he was blameless. His best game face was on; she couldn’t be allowed to know that they were anything but united.
“He does have a point,” Dean reasoned.
“You’re going to take both of us because I’m ready to take my rightful place on the Throne of Azazel. You do understand what that means, right?” Sam asked as if speaking to a slow child. The demon’s cheeks darkened for a second time but she bowed her head.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good,” Sam said happily as he walked over to take his place by Dean’s side. “You may take him, but he’ll always be under my protection.”
The demon nodded, her eyes sliding to see that Sam’s arm was draped across Dean’s shoulders, Dean’s arm was comfortably wrapped around Sam’s waist. Bound for hell, anyway. She should have known, all of Hell should have known. The demon stepped forward; she’d be able to claim Dean now. With trepidation she placed a hand on each brother’s chests. Hell would never be the same again.