Title: More Tentacles (Sequel to MMOM 22 - Tentacles)
Pairing: Sam/OMC, Dean/OMC
Summary: Sam's friend from the basement is back and as horny as ever.
Link to prequel: Tentacles
Link: to other mmom fic
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by WB and Eric Kripke et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: incestuous thoughts, dubious consent
Author's Notes: Okay so Tentacles wasn't the one people wanted a sequel to, but it leapt into my head and I had to write it. It would not go away :). Thanks to Soph for the beta (but not for the comment that this should really be a trilogy).
Word count: 3,963
Sam had scoured the internet for the creature that had molested him in the basement of the house and he had been surprised by what he found; so surprised in fact that he'd printed out the details and slipped them into his bag. It had been a demon, just like it looked like, but not the kind that he and Dean usually ran into. The thing was a sex demon that lived off the products of sex, but unlike incubi of succubae it did not drain its victims of anything else, in fact it was considered lucky in at least two cultures.
Seemed that it got around and turned up in three obscure religions that Sam had found; each called it different things, but it looked and acted the same. He couldn't track down any indication of side effects of the demon's attentions and that was a great relief, but what worried him was that one of the sources he'd found had mentioned blessed donors who were visited more than once. He was pretty sure he was in no way blessed and it wasn't as if his performance had been anything to write home about, but he found himself peering at shadows none the less.
He had let Dean take the shower first when they finally made it back to the motel room six hours later than expected and then managed to convince his brother that he was just making sure that the demon they had exorcised was really gone as he trawled web page after web page. Only when he had been totally sure nasty things were not going to come of his encounter had he shut everything down and taken up residence in the now empty bathroom.
Ten minutes after that he was towelling off his hair when his sixth sense gave a twitch and he froze. It was a familiar feeling that crept up his spine and his heart began to beat faster in anticipation as well as apprehension. Very slowly he turned and part of him was so very not surprised to see the demon standing behind him. The rest of him, however, reacted to the shock and he back pedalled so fast that his legs twisted in the towel and he began falling backwards towards the edge of the tub.
He tensed for impact since he knew this was really going to hurt and his flailing arms knocked all the bottles off the side of the bath, but he never hit home. Tentacles were gently holding him at about a thirty degree angle, just above the edge of the tub as he found himself looking into the demon's reptilian eyes, breathing hard and trying to regain his equilibrium.
Everything was completely still, but this time the tentacles were not confining him.
"You okay in there, Sammy?" Dean asked from the other room.
Sam looked at the demon, the demon looked at him.
"Sam?" Dean sounded a little worried now.
Sam's brain caught up with the fact that any second Dean would be coming through the door, lock or no lock and he made a split second decision.
"Yeah, Dean," he even managed to sound slightly pissed off, "I just knocked everything over."
"That'll be those freakishly long limbs of yours," Dean shot back, seemingly at ease again.
Sam had not taken his eyes off the demon and the creature looked pleased, if it was possible for something with such a face to look anything but animalistic. The TV came on in the other room and the demon finally moved. One of the tentacles not involved in hold him up skimmed down his chest and he couldn't help watching its course. He realised that his body was way ahead of his mind as the tentacle danced around his already half hard cock.
The position he was in was surprisingly comfortable as the supports holding him took away any strain he might have experienced and this time he found himself nervous, but not afraid. He knew the demon had no intention of hurting him, in fact quite the opposite, and the way the tentacle was moving seemed to be more of an overture than a demand. Maybe it had been desperate last time.
The demon was watching him very carefully as if trying to gauge his reaction and Sam just looked back. Not sure if he was in his right mind, he let go of the towel which was his only current protection and as if fell to the floor the demon smiled, honest to god smiled, and that was quite an unnerving experience.
More tentacles looped over the demon's back and very gently nudged his knees apart. The one still teasing his cock was distracting enough so that he managed to allow the move without panicking, but he almost resisted when he felt something slick slide over his arse. The sensation stopped instantly and the demon was watching him intently again and its eyes locked with his as a more tentative touch replaced the other.
Sam realised that he was being asked permission and the attention on his cock increased just enough to give him the guts to nod slightly. The something slick slid up the crack of his ass and teased his entrance as a second tentacle joined the first swirling around his cock and Sam had to bite down on his arm to prevent himself making any noise loud enough to bring Dean running.
Jerking off in the bathroom was expected, after all they were both hot blooded males, but moaning loudly would be met with ridicule and comments from here to eternity. Sam would rather have teeth marks in his arm than have to put up with Dean's sarcastic remarks, especially as the small slick tentacle playing with his ass pushed a little harder and breached him.
Sam had had precisely one homosexual encounter in his life which had consisted of one too many tequilas and a friend from college sucking him off while shoving a finger up his arse to find his prostate. His prostate had remained unfound thanks to drunken ineptitude and he had never bothered to repeat the experience, but this felt very different.
The tip of what he assumed had to be a specialised tentacle was small and did not feel anywhere near as weird as he remembered the finger feeling, but he soon discovered that it was only the end that was so narrow. Whatever it was grew in diameter very rapidly if what he was feeling was anything to go by, but it was so slick that it slid in easily at first. It began to burn pretty quickly, but, before he could complain, the probing appendage found a spot that made him grunt into his arm and buck hard into the tentacles around his cock.
Sam thought his brain might be liquefying at that point and his muscles seemed to be following suit as resistance melted out of him. The tentacle in his ass began to pulse or move or something, but Sam couldn't tell which and the ones on his cock went into high gear and he gave up trying to do anything but feel. He hoped the internet sites had been right because there was no way he could stop this now and he really didn't think he wanted to.
Dean might like to pick up random pretty girls, but Sam couldn't do it and although most people might have considered sex with a horny demon right up there with bestiality, it made sense to Sam. It took longer than the last time, but when it hit, Sam's orgasm was just as mind blowing and if he hadn't still had his arm stuffed in his mouth the rest of the motel would have known too.
By that time he'd closed his eyes, so he couldn't be sure the demon had been as efficient as last time in collecting the fruits of its labours, but when he finally opened his eyes to find himself being gently lowered to the floor the demon did looked incredibly pleased with itself. Sam's whole body felt like someone had removed all the calcium from his bones so all he did was lay there propped up on the tub as the demon withdrew to the corner and slowly faded from sight.
It should have been worrying, or at least vaguely concerning, but, basking in the after glow, Sam just couldn't bring himself to feel either. Lying there in a boneless heap he could have stayed put for ages, but a loud banging on the door woke him from his daze.
"Sam," Dean sounded a little frustrated, "I want to eat. If you're not done in five minutes I'm coming in there and getting you whether you're jerking off or not."
Sam threw the soap, which he had knocked off earlier, at the door in reply.
The demon had reappeared two days later in the rest room of a backwater truck stop. It had thrown Sam against a wall, dragged his pants down and screwed him senseless in a little over five minutes before putting his wardrobe gently back together and vanishing as before. Sam had had a little trouble explaining the smile he had sported the rest of the afternoon.
The time after that was in a motel room when Dean had gone off with some girl and the demon had proved that the male appendage between its legs was not just for show. Sam had found out that the tentacle was just for warm up and that the demon was very good at long drawn out sex as well as a quicky against a wall. When Dean had rolled in the next morning Sam had had to come up with some excuse about air-conditioning to explain why he had been sprawled naked on top of his bed.
For a while Sam wondered if and when the random encounters would stop, but he sure as hell wasn't as tense as before so he gave up caring. It became so that the demon seemed to be a part of his life just like Dean bitching at him about his hair and them hunting nasty things in the dark. The demon also seemed to like to surprise him because within two months he'd gone from being very boring and having only really had sex in a bedroom, to having had sex in many restrooms, a bar, several bathrooms, the back of the Impala, a secluded booth in a diner, a haunted house, a church and twice in the woods.
Sex seemed to be good for him too because he was sleeping better even if he still had nightmares from time to time, and he was so much more cheerful that Dean had gone so far as to ask him if he was doing drugs. That had been a very interesting conversation that Sam didn't really want to repeat, but that was the only intrusion into real life that the demon seemed to make, so Sam was happy.
It was when they were chasing a werewolf in Oklahoma that things changed. In hindsight the pincer manoeuvre had not been such a good idea as Sam found himself being thrown against a wall (and not in a good way) and his gun going flying. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs and most of the sense out of his head, but he did have enough brain power to see the werewolf coming straight for him. There was a shot that had to have been from Dean, but the beast was still coming and Sam could see his death in its eyes.
Suddenly there was a solid body between him and the werewolf and he couldn't really follow what happened next but there were yelps and tearing and squishing sounds that even though he couldn't see straight made Sam think the werewolf was very dead. His ears were ringing and the room was moving with alarming lurches so he wasn't surprised that he seemed to lose a bit of time. He came back to reality to find Dean standing a few feet from him on one side, gun at the ready and the demon the other side of him staring at Dean while one tentacle moved over him as if checking to see what was wrong.
It appeared to be stalemate.
"Dean," Sam dragged his thoughts together into some sort of order, "he's not dangerous."
"Tell that to the itty bitty pieces of werewolf all over this room, Sam," Dean didn't sound convinced.
"To us," Sam clarified as he tried to sit up properly and discovered that moving was a bad idea.
Tentacles moved to help him as he began to slide back to the floor and he was so used to the sensation of multi-limbed support by now that he leaned into the sensation. When he managed to bring his vision back into focus Dean was looking at him very dubiously.
"You better have a really good explanation," his brother said pointedly.
"He's a sex demon," Sam could see bad things coming so he didn't even attempt to gloss over the truth, "he survives off the products of sex. That house where I fell through the floor, he'd been dragged through the portal we closed too and he was in the basement. I looked him up and he's not the kind of demon we worry about and then he came back and he's been coming back ever since."
Sam's head was really beginning to hurt.
"Tell me you haven't been," Dean's voice was dangerously low.
"Don't judge me, Dean," Sam said, becoming annoyed, "it's no different than you going off with every woman you can find."
"Sam!" Dean obviously wasn't impressed with that analogy. "It's a demon."
"He," Sam corrected, "he's a demon; trust me, definitely male."
The world was going fuzzy on the edges which Sam figured was probably a bad thing. He had just about enough brain power to see a tentacle whip out and relieve Dean of his gun and then he felt strong arms sliding under him before he slowly slid into unconsciousness. His last thought was a prayer that Dean and the demon didn't kill each other before he woke up.
Sam lost most of the night, but when he finally woke up properly he was in the local hospital and the doctor declared that he'd had a very nasty concussion. Apart from the small problem of not being able to give his name when asked the usual question, because he had no idea who Dean had said he was, checking out went quite smoothly. Dean didn't so much as say a word as he drove them back to the motel and Sam knew he was in such deep shit he might never see daylight again.
"Exactly which part of screwing a demon did you think was a good idea, Sammy?" Dean asked the moment the door was closed. "And while we're at it, exactly how long have you been into guys?"
"Since Dem stuck a tentacle up my ass," Sam said belligerently, since he had not been in a good mood, what with the pounding headache in the first place, and the silence game had really started to piss him off.
Dean looked at him incredulously for a while and Sam was pretty sure his brother was trying to work out which thing to be most annoyed about.
"Dem?" Dean asked eventually in a tone that was just off 'eat shit and die'.
"I had to call him something," Sam defended himself, not sure why either of them was bothering with such an irrelevant part of the subject, "and I couldn't pronounce what he's really called."
"You named a demon, Sam," Dean was on the verge of shouting now. "We kill demons we do not name them and we damn well don't have sex with them."
"You might not," Sam replied and he knew it was stupid and childish before he said it, but he didn't have anything else.
Dean looked about ready to throttle him. It really wasn't fair, it had all been going so well. He sure as hell felt better than he had in a long time, his own personal demon wasn't bothering anyone who didn't want his attentions and it had been a win, win situation until Dean found out. Sam felt like sulking and refusing to talk about it, and if he had believed he could have got away with it he would have.
"If it wasn't for him I'd be dead right now," Sam regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.
Dean went white. Sam began mentally swearing at himself as Dean's expression closed off completely. He had stepped so far over the line that he wasn't even sure where it was anymore and Sam knew that if he didn't do something he and Dean were done, for good. When Dean made a move towards the door Sam went for his pack and the dresser under the window slid across the exit as if it was on rollers. He had no idea how he'd done it, but all he knew was he needed to fix this and he needed to fix it now.
Grabbing the now crumpled pages he'd printed out that first day he put himself between Dean and the door where Dean had stopped, staring at the dresser.
"You can control it now?" Dean seemed to have forgotten his anger for a moment.
"No," Sam said with complete honestly, "I'm just desperate. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that; it was my own stupidity that got me into that situation with the werewolf and I know you would have dragged my ass out of it, Dem just got there first. This is what he is, Dean."
He thrust the pages at his brother and prayed that Dean would at least give him a chance. Dean did take the pages, but he didn't look at them.
"We don't do demons, Sam," Dean said very firmly.
There was that hard glint in Dean's eyes that Sam had only seen a couple of times before, once had been when he'd told his brother he was going to college. Sam didn't know how to justify himself; on the surface it did seem crazy, but he didn't want to live without this anymore, he wasn't sure that at the moment he could.
"I sleep, Dean," he eventually said, "and before I hadn't slept a night through in months. I know this seems insane to you, but I'm not you. I can't walk into a bar and pick up a pretty girl just like that, it's not who I am, and I need to work off the stress as much as you do."
"So you're fucking a demon," Dean wasn't budging.
"Yes," Sam all but yelled.
His head hurt and he was tired and everything seemed to be coming down around his ears. This was so not how any of this was supposed to happen and he walked passed Dean and sat down on the bed in defeat. Dean was never going to understand.
Sam felt it before Dem appeared and he was startled out of his defeat when he was gently, but firmly pushed back onto the bed and several tentacles pinned him down. Dem's appendages looked quite flimsy, but as Sam had found out on several occasions they were very strong and he couldn't move. When he realised that most of Dem's attention was on Dean he began to worry and tried to get away, however the moment he opened his mouth to protest he was efficiently gagged by the end of one of the tentacles holding him down.
As he struggled, Sam began to pray silently that Dem hadn't decided to take Dean out of the equation. When his demon shoved Dean against the wall none too gently and pinned him there very firmly Sam began to struggle harder. He'd never figured out if there was a limit to the number of tentacles on Dem's back; it had always seemed that the demon had as many as he wanted of as many shapes and sizes and the ones holding him down seemed to grow as needed as Dem walked up close to Dean.
Dean had as much chance to protest verbally as Sam had since his brother was gagged just as efficiently as he had been; they were both helpless unless the cavalry decided to charge through the door at that moment. Considering the cavalry was probably the other side of the country and the door was blocked from the inside this was a very unlikely scenario.
Sam had just moved something with his mind and he wracked his brain desperately trying to figure out how he'd done it so he could do it again, but nothing was happening. Now would have been a really good time for his erratic powers to actually work, but either he'd used his daily allocation, or his subconscious didn't think the situation warranted its help. Dem's claws were dangerously close to Dean, but the demon was not in a threatening pose and Sam hoped that that meant Dean was not on the elimination list.
When Dem did finally move Sam was so shocked that he actually stopped struggling. It seemed that he and Dean had at least one thing in common: they both made the same indignant noise when their clothes were removed without their consent. Unlike him, however, Dean appeared to be trying to rant through the obstruction in his mouth as Dem went about what he did best. Sam just stared in something between horror and lust, which is occurred to him was so not right, but he couldn't help himself.
Dean stopped ranting in about five seconds as his eyes rolled back and his head hit the wall with a thump. Sam considered looking away, he really did, but he'd never seen anything hotter than his brother spread eagled against the wall with Dem's tentacles bring Dean off. When Dean tensed and then bucked into the demon's touch Sam stopped breathing; he'd never seen anything like it and only as Dem lowered Dean gently to the ground, carefully replacing Dean's pants and underwear, did he realise that he was no longer being held down.
With a rather smug look Dem stepped back from both of them and then faded from sight, at which point Sam moved. Dean was sprawled against the wall in a daze that Sam was very familiar with and he knelt down beside his brother hoping that Dean was all right.
"Dean," he asked hesitantly and rather cloudy hazel eyes opened and looked at him, "you okay?"
For a while Dean just blinked at him and then his brother looked at the print out that was still scrunched in his hand.
"Not evil you say?" Dean said in a tone that Sam could not quite interpret.
"No nasty side effects?" Dean asked another question.
Sam nodded again.
"And it's that good every time?"
Sam was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
"Mostly better," he replied with complete honestly.
Dean's eyes widened a bit.
"Damn," was the rather absent response that came from Dean's mouth.
Sam fidgeted where he sat; after what he'd just seen he was as hard as a rock and his worry for Dean had dimmed enough for him to notice it. He really needed to go use the bathroom for an extended period in the near future, headache or no headache.
"Sammy," Dean said, seemingly coming back to himself, "how could you hold out on me like that, Dude?"