Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ Supernatural Snippet ❯ Shut up Sammy!!!! ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A/N: Alright this is a snippet from an unnamed Supernatural fic that I wanted to start. As I’ve said before I’m gonna post snippets of stories that I want to write to see how they’ll do on the internet. I’m looking to see if anyone’s actually interested enough for me to continue them. So please take a second out of your day to send a review to a review starved author, even if it’s only to tell me it sucks because of something or other. I’d appreciate it so much.

Also this is a slash between Dean and an original character of mine named Dante Hill. If you’re not sure how to picture him think Boris Kodjoe.

Read! Enjoy! Review!


Bobby and Sam had left Dean to his own devices. After talking with the older man they had decided to go out for one of their last burger runs.

Dean had wandered back inside from the yard a short while after they had driven away. He could feel a steady ache begin to seep into his bones and wondered briefly whether he should take a pain killer or make his way to the vodka and scotch that Bobby kept behind his desk.

He scoffed as a memory came to mind and for the first time in the past few months he didn’t force it away as was done to other thoughts of the Immortal.

“Drinking doesn’t cure much.”

“What are you an expert on alcoholics too?”

The black man looked away from Dean for a moment. The eldest Winchester had thought he’d been ignoring his comment but when the other man had looked back he handed Dean a small coin.

He took it and examined it for a moment noting the VI in the center and the words around the edges that read ‘To Thine Own Self Be True’.

Dean shook his head. The other man made him so nervous and often times to the point that he had his foot in his mouth fifty percent of the time. He slowly allowed Dante to invade his thoughts.

He could remember his tall stature about one or two inches taller than his own. His eyes were a deep hazel and his skin smooth and caramel. The man was solid with long limbs wrapped in thick muscle. Though he was bald and constantly insisted that it was a hairstyle not a lack of hair. Dean chuckled at that and made his way to the kitchen.

He opened one of the cabinets to reveal an extensive collection of pain killers and other such first aid. Pulling down a bottle of Tylenol he realized that he was shaking. Or at least his hands were as they furiously worked at getting the cap off of the bottle.

Taking a moment he set the bottled down and leaned into the counter folding his hands over the edges, waiting for it to pass. Every now and then Dean Winchester would realize how close he nearly came to dying, to leaving his brother and Bobby to fight their last fight by themselves.

Another memory floated to the forefront of his mind of Special Agent Dante Hill.

But he wasn’t exactly himself. Rather he had finally shown them his true colors. He’d stood seven and a half feet tall body lanky and wrapped in rock hard muscles. Dark bronze leather like skin covered his body, pointed ears whose tips poked up through long thick dreads. With eyes that glowed green and a tail that wrapped itself around his waist twice. His features were similar enough that he’d resembled the human they’d initially met. But this had been the form that he’d been hiding beneath his human guise.

Dean remembered that the ex-agent was just a skin he wore that really Dante had been far older than he could comprehend and far less human than he could fully accept.

It was in this form that the other had explained that Dean was a reincarnated soul one that had originally been made for him, to be the Immortal’s eternal mate.

It hadn’t sat well with the eldest Winchester and in all honesty probably would have been fine if Dante was human and a woman. But as it stood the Immortal was neither and Dean didn’t give him a single chance, not even when the other had saved not only his life but Bobby and Sam’s as well.

As he leaned back on to his feet stepping away from the counter with the bottle in hand. Dean remembered that if he had accepted the other man’s offer that he too would gain the powers of an Immortal which none too surprising included immortality. He would never have needed to fear death or his minions ever again. Sam and the rest of the world would be safe. Himself, Sam and Bobby would continue hunting with a whole deck of cards up their sleeves. However, he wouldn’t be human leaving him to watch as his family withered year after year after year to finally be taken by death. He had already watched a shit ton of his loved ones die and truth be told he didn’t plan on living long enough to watch the rest of them parish as well.

Dean headed for the couch but never made it, stopping to answer his phone when it sounded from its place on the desk. He sighed changing his course. He reached the desk but didn’t reach for his phone. Looking at the display screen alight with excitement as it innocently showed him who was calling. The screen read, Hill.

A sudden flash of lips moving against each other and hands hoping to map out exposed expanses of skin.

For all his rejecting, that hadn’t meant that absolutely nothing physical had happened between the two.

There was a crash and Dean jerked back away from the circle in the middle of the floor that suddenly appeared. It glowed a yellow light that reached the ceiling.

Instinctively he went for the gun at the small of his back having discarded the bottle of Tylenol. The light flashed for two seconds and before him stood Dante Hill.

The shorter man stumbled backward startled. Had he subconsciously summoned the man just by remembering the? His cheeks reddened.

Dante stepped forward and grabbed onto Dean’s shoulder to steady him. With a hint of concern he spoke. “Are you alright?”

Cheeks even redder Dean ripped away from the taller man. His eyes grew wide and frenzied. “W. W. What the hell are you doing here? How did you get here?”

Dante pulled his hand back and stuffed both of them into the pockets of the warn, light brown leather jacket that he always wore. “I thought that was obvious.”

“It’s not.”

Dante shrugged and looked around the room curiously, ignoring Dean’s mini panic attack. “This place better than the Roadhouse?”

“This is home!” The shorter man exploded still stunned by the man in front of him. A second later he realized that he might have said it a little more earnestly than need be.

The black man raised an eyebrow at him, “You’d think you’d be used to this by now.” Seemingly he was surveying Bobby’s living room with an air of interest when really he was searching for any nearby threats.

“No. I will never just get use to a grown man popping out of nowhere. It ain’t normal!”

The other man scoffed. “Yeah, cause so many other things in your life are.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “What do you want?”

A shrug. “Just reaffirming the fact that you’re not going up against the Devil alone.”

“Had to be here for that huh?”

“You don’t answer my calls, I figured why not save myself the minutes.”

It was Dean’s turn to raise an eyebrow then. “Wait you said transportation spells take like 2 hours to prepare.”

Dante cleared his throat and quickly made a b line to a space that wasn’t directly next to Dean, under the guise of examining one of the many book shelves that adorned the walls of Bobby’s house. The shorter man however couldn’t find the words to tease him because as annoyed as he was that the black man was there at all he knew that the other wanted to help. At least that’s what he told himself as he ignored the warmth that bloomed in his stomach.

At that point Sam and Bobby entered the room from the front door. Sam held a cardboard carrier for three drinks and Bobby had set matching fast food bags in his lap. They both stopped and looked up at their visitor. Sam began switching his gaze between the two men.

At that moment the only thing Dean could remember was the argument he and Sam had gotten into a couple of days ago. The younger Winchester had been at his wits end on how to stop the approaching apocalypse and had insisted that Dean call the Immortal. Dean had outright refused on the principle that it was their mess and they would clean it up or die trying. Which he’d known had been ridiculous to think they could do this without help but the Immortal and his mega powers put Dean on edge.

However, he was more focused on stopping his brother from saying something like.

“You actually called him.”

Dean cursed Sam’s existence as Dante raised an eyebrow. Before anyone could say anything else the oldest Winchester rushed to his brother.

“Sam I swear if you don’t keep your mouth shut.” Dean threatened in a whisper under the guise of taking the drinks and unloading them on the nearby table.

Bobby and Sam followed closely.

“It’s not like we couldn’t use him. We probably wouldn‘t even owe him. All you would need to do is lay on that old Winchester.” Sam whispered back interrupted by a swift deadly look from his brother.
“Sammy finish that sentence and I’ll ship your ass to Detroit gift wrapped.”

The taller Winchester went to reply when Bobby cut in. “Would you two idjits stop your moaning.” Two abashed looks later. “If you didn’t call him, which you should have. How the hell did he know to come now?”

Dean couldn’t hide the startled expression from his face and turned from the two men toward Dante who attempted to look like he hadn’t just been eavesdropping.

“How did you know we’d decided to kill the Devil?”

“Besides the fact that you don’t have any other choice?” Dante scoffed. “Don’t be so paranoid Winchester. Death is a friend of mine he stopped by to tell me that he thought your little suicide attempt was hilarious, you can imagine how not hilarious I found it.”

Dean blinked. “You know Death?”

Dante sighed. “It’s gonna take a while for the whole older than time itself thing to sink in isn’t it? Yes Dean I know Death.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “He knows Death?” He looked over to Bobby, “Can he do that?”

Bobby shrugged at a loss for words.

Dean felt anger rise in him. “That could have saved me more than enough grief.”

“And I would have told you had you told me what you were doing.”

Dean threw him a glare. “Look I did what I thought was best.”

“Best for whom exactly? You realize the only reason Death didn’t kill you is because we had a thing way back when and he recognized you as my mate?”

Again Dean blinked and swiveled his eyes up to Sam and then down to Bobby to see matching expressions.

“You. You slept with Death?”

Dante shrugged. “Not exactly but we knew each other pretty well.”

“How the hell do you not exactly sleep with Death?”

“The details aren’t really important we’re just close acquaintances nowadays.”

Dean’s breaths were coming in heaves. This wasn’t exactly the conversation he’d been planning on having the day before he died.

Sam hesitated before asking the immortal a question. “Does that mean that Dean’s on Death’s radar now?”

Dante shook his head. “No, the man doesn’t hold grudges. Out of his brothers he‘s not only the strongest of the horseman but he’s the one with the bigger attachment to human kind. He gave you the ring right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam sighed. “Not that I’m complaining but what’s with that? He actually wants Satan back in the box?”

Dante sighed as well. “Most immortals are like that they don’t particularly like being ordered around. Satan might be immortal as well but he’s still inferior in all intents and purposes to Death. Stuffing his fiery ass back in the box means Death can go about business as usual.”

Bobby nodded. “Makes sense.”

There was a pause before Dante spoke again. “Can you guys give me and Dean a minute?”

Dean’s eyes flitted up towards his brother before watching Sam nod. “Yeah sure. Come on Bobby. “

Bobby nodded once more. “Nice talking to ya Hill.”

“You too Bobby, Sam.”

Sam and the older hunter made their way out of the room then, Dean tossing his brother a pleading look.

“What should I do?” He mouthed.

The younger brother shrugged. “Talk to him.”

Dean silently cursed watching the two other hunters leave. He didn’t have much time after that to contemplate what he should say because when he turned back to the other man well let’s just say more than his personal space had been invaded. Hill wasted no time in closing the already nonexistent distance between them. His lips crashed into Dean’s with a fierceness and his hands came up to wrap themselves around the shorter man’s waist.

Dean could feel the lips of the other man working hungrily against his own and try as he might to ignore the fire that ignited in his belly at the Immortal’s touch it proved useless. He responded with just as much hunger if not more. His hands came up to settle themselves on either side of Dante’s face, feeling the thin black beard that ran along the outline of his chin.

Eventually Dean allowed Dante’s tongue entrance which added gasoline to the fire within him, burning that much hotter. He pressed himself against the darker man and he could feel him relent against him. He wasn’t sure how he remembered the wall in Bobby’s house but he did as he forced Dante back and pressed him into it.

The Immortal didn’t even flinch but Dean could feel his hands wander over his body. Fingers searching wanting to feel bare skin beneath them instead of the impeding fabric.

Dante could feel Dean’s heartbeat speed up along with his own and the very heat of the other man’s skin was making him more than a little warm in the nether regions. So when Dean smashed into him thigh more than likely accidentally pressing against his groin, he couldn’t help but press back. The groan that replied sent vibrations throughout his body and he moved his hands back to the man’s waist, finding the edge of his shirt he allowed his fingers to lift it up and reveal the smooth expanse of warm skin. He ran his fingers over Dean’s lower body craving the touch of his mate.

The very thing he had wanted for years but had been denying himself for the past few months because he had wanted to give the other man what he craved. Something normal. And to Dean everything about one, Dante Hill was about as abnormal as they came. But being here with his mate willingly pressing against him, responding to his touch was intoxicating in fact what little control that he had gathered over the centuries was slowly crumbling as Dean’s tongue battled against his own. If one of them didn’t stop now he couldn’t be sure he would be able to rein himself in.

Dean lurched forward a little when he felt warm hands working against the small of his back but he didn’t break the kiss. Instead he leaned into the touch and brought his thigh a little higher to press into Dante again which earned him a moan from the man. Which left Dean in dire need to feel skin against skin.

When he kissed Dante although they were few and far between he felt as though any other kiss he had ever had with any of the women he had ever been with couldn’t hold a candle. Not even Cassie. The first woman in his entire life that he could openly say he had loved.

When Dean felt Dante against him, skin pressed against skin, it felt like the other man was giving everything of himself in those few instances, that he poured all that he was into the touches that Dean allowed him.

The shorter man lowered his hands to Dante’s sides submersing them within his jacket. He worked at pulling the man’s shirt free of his pants and found that he was pleased with himself when they finally tugged free. Dean wasted no time plunging his hands beneath the offending cloth craving skin, when Dante gasped at the contact and went to pull back. It was only when Dean found himself eagerly following that he came back to his senses.

Faces flushed and lips red, they stared each other in the eye, listening to the quickened pace of their own heart beats in their ears and feeling each other’s hot breath play across the other’s face. Dean stepped away when he realized that green had begun to bleed into the white of Dante’s eyes. However, it was the fear and uncertainty in Dean’s eyes that kept Dante in his place.

Suddenly, Dean hissed and Dante flinched as cold water was poured over both of their heads. The eldest Winchester turned to find his brother standing there with a bucket and a shit eating grin on his face.

“Bobby told me to do it.”

Breath still coming in heaves the darker man answered first. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Two words Sammy. ‘Overnight Shipping.”

Sam held up his hands and backed away. “Bobby’s house, Bobby’s rules. He said ‘he don’t care if you’re doing a broad or a guy you just ain’t doing it in his house. You’re two grown men the least you could do is wait to get to a hotel‘, for Dean to get it up the.”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll push you in the hole myself.”

Dean’s whole face was red and somehow his brother knew it was more out of embarrassment than anger.

“I know. I know. But its either Bobby’s mad at you or he’s mad at me.”

Sam tossed both of the older men a towel eying the older of the two cautiously. He remembered the first time he’d interfered with a make out session and felt a phantom tingle on his upper right arm where Hill had grabbed him and threw him into a wall, leaving more than a few bruises. The biggest one being in the shape of his hand. They had later learned it was an accident but it had hurt like a bitch none the less.

“You alright man?”

The ex-agent was standing back against the wall, clothes askew, lips swollen and the beginnings of one serious hard on making itself known. His head was angled upward leaning against the wall and he was visibly attempting to slow his breathing.

Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man as he listened to his answer. “Just feeling a little intoxicated is all.”

Sam nodded remembering briefly the explanation the black man had tried to give on why he felt so out of sorts after having some sort of physical contact with his older brother.

“You need something?”

Dante shook his head. “But do me a favor and move Dean a little further away. I can smell the shame from here.”

The elder Winchester visibly bristled but he remained silent made anxious by a sharp pang that sprung through his chest, unsure of what it would make him say. He allowed himself to be lead further across the room as Dante attempted to collect himself.

Standing opposite his brother Sam gave him a look of pity.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

The other opened his mouth to speak.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sam shrugged. “Look. Like I said before. You’re a grown man. If you want this than you want it.”

“So why bother repeating it?” Dean growled.

“Because sometimes you want what you want and others, you need what you need. And we’ve more than proven that Hill needs you. Just waiting on you to prove the rest.”

Sam dodged a glare and made his way back into the kitchen.

“Shout if you need another bucket.”

Dean was taken aback by the chuckle that escaped the only other person left in the room. The sound held a hint of bitterness. He turned to find Hill’s eyes on the ceiling.

“I don’t know why I do this to myself.”

Which was a lie because he knew exactly why he did it. Waiting was a courtesy most Immortals had needed to learn. They lived off of the pleasures of their bodies. Lust was life. Until it had all been destroyed. Until his kind had been forced out of their home to make way for the Era of Man and their Almighty God.

When Man began to walk the Earth the soul-less Immortals did not understand their reluctance. They were similarly sculpted so surely this new creature would want to partake in the ecstasy of their bodies. Of course this more often than not, was not the case. To them partaking of the flesh under the laws of their creator was a sin. As their population slowly grew so did the knowledge of their God. There might have been waning over the years when humans befriended the Immortals but they generally kept separate.

Then the day of Betrayal came, one Immortal had wanted to know what was so awesome as to love one being for the rest of one‘s life. He had asked God to make him anew, to give him a soul.

Dante now had a soul because he’d asked for it. With a soul came a permanent mate. There were times he’d wondered if he’d made the right decision if the pleasure of the body that he’d reveled in for millennia was truly worth the pleasure of the soul. However, that was the answer to most of his musings, even if he wondered for hours on end he knew his soul needed its mate. Just being near the other man brought a feeling of content over him like nothing else. Many times both he and Dean had been reincarnated but it had been centuries since the two souls had combined physically. He knew that it was a feeling that would rival all others, before and after his soul.

So standing with his back against the wall he knew exactly why. It was because he dare not take what he longed for and risk losing Dean and his soul. Thus like every other time they had met he’d attempted to relearn this human courtesy and every time it never got any easier.

Dean waited for the other man to speak, but when he didn’t the hunter spoke up.

“Do what to yourself?”

He only asked because it was easier for Dean to believe that all the hard decisions were in his court, that the man in front of him cared nothing of the world or Dean and just took and lived without rhyme or reason. It’s what he told himself, that didn’t make any of it true, which was becoming more and more obvious.

The other man ignored the question and brought his eyes back down to Dean’s who realized that they’d returned to their normal state.

“Listen Winchester. You want to go up against the devil that’s fine. But you’re not doing it alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” Dean said.

“Because Sam and your angel friend will be there?”

He nodded. “Yea, they’ve got my back.”

Dante angled a look at the other man that had Dean fidgeting, had him believing that he himself was transparent to those hazel eyes.

“Look, I don’t want collateral damage. Alright?” He gave a frustrated shift to his shoulders.

The same look intensified to the point where the other man pushed himself off of the wall and took a stance in front of the hunter with crossed arms.

I’m collateral damage?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair.

“You know what I mean.”

The darker man shook his head. “Explain it.”

This time he scrubbed a hand down his face. “You, just don’t need to be there. Why don’t you just take me at that, huh?”

From the kitchen came Sam’s voice. “Be careful what you wish for!”

“Shut the hell up Sam!” Dean averted his gaze and pushed a frustrated sigh out through his nostrils.

He looked back hoping that the man had backed down only to realize how close they were and take a couple of steps back. No need to repeat their earlier affair. He needed his head clear. Dante let him, eyes still looking straight through the other man.

“Look Hill. It’s not your damn fight! You don’t need to be there!”

The ex-agent let his stare turn hard.

“You know who you remind me of right now Winchester?”

“What?” Dean asked unsure of the question.

Dante ploughed ahead. “You remind me of my mom. She said that same thing to me before she left and never came back.”

The hunter paled and what felt like a dagger pierced his heart clean through. He searched Hill’s eyes for any sign of a lie. He found none.

“You know what that tells me Winchester? It tells me the same thing I knew as soon as she‘d said it.”

“Dante.” He tried to interrupt his voice quieter with a tinge of sympathy. The immortal ignored him.

“So you planning on dying this time, is that it? You figure since you and Bobby and Sam and Castiel have been up to your eyeballs in this for a year that it’s only right it ends with you?”

He didn’t answer, sure anything he had to say would be the wrong thing. It would be for anyone, but the Winchesters had a knack for jamming their foot in their mouths.

“So just for a moment Winchester, let’s cut the crap. Somewhere in that brain of yours probably in a place you haven’t named or adamantly ignore, you care for me and you already know how I feel about you. So, the truth of it all is that really you don’t want me to be there to see you die or get hurt and that’s all fine and dandy but think of it this way.”

His eyes turned fierce. “What are the chances of me stopping you from going alone?”

Dean realized he was supposed to answer when the other man paused. He knew the answer right of the bat. “None.”

Dante nodded. “Alright then what are the chances of you stopping me from going with you?”

He knew that one off the bat too.


“Are we understanding each other then?”

Dean nodded reluctantly.


Just then Bobby and Sam entered into the living room, this time with a stoic looking Cas trailing behind.

The Angel nodded hello to the Immortal who returned it.

Dean threw his brother a warning glare but Sam said nothing.

“You ladies done?”

Dante threw Dean a questioning look and he answered with another reluctant nod.

Bobby scoffed. “Good, now go eat your burger.”

Eager for an escape Dean started toward the kitchen, suddenly remembering the beefy goodness of a burger was just a plus.

“While you’re in there,” Bobby shouted after him, “see if you can find your balls too.”

There was a curse and Sam smirked.

“I told him all that sleeping around would come back to bite him.”

Dante shrugged. “Where I come from sleeping around is small talk. We consider it practice for our next partner.”

Sam eyed the darker man with an incredulous look.

“I don’t think Dean was considering you at all. No offense but karma‘s a real bitch.”

Dante shrugged. ”None taken. Besides, what makes you so sure Dean would be the bottom?”

Somewhere from the kitchen came a cough almost as though the man in question had picked the wrong time to bite into his burger.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “The bottom of what?”