Author's note: Longer than the previous ones of the serie (will have two chapters). I don't really know where i'm going with this serie but i like it so far so: we'll see! Tell me what y'all think! ;)

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, angst and porn and fluff, typical canon violence... There's more but i don't wanna spoil it. :p

Disclaimer: I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Supernatural.

Timeline: This is now during season 6 for SPN, still 12 years after the Final Battle for Harry.

Men In The Wilderness

Evading Ron and Hermione's version of the Spanish Inquisition was easier said than done. They had looked through all his barriers and right to him for years now, had learned that "I'm fine" really meant that he was in bad shape and he hurt all over and inside but he wouldn't say anything because he didn't want to worry anybody…

They had taken him aside and asked him about his mission in the US because of course they had figured from where the problem originated without even talking to him, he thought in exasperated fondness. Harry had told them he was okay, just tired because the mission was long and too vast and after the pointed stares he got, conceded to tell them about the magic surrounding the country. Harry had told them that he suspected it was responsible for his recent moods.

Ron had accepted the answer gladly, steering the conversation away from work and onto the Chudley Cannons' new brooms, Harry eagerly threw himself onto the topic, perhaps a bit too much judging from Hermione's skeptic gaze.

But she had thankfully let it passed and had been quickly engaged by Fleur on kids' clothes or whatever; Harry just thanked the beautiful Veela profusely in his mind.

Because Harry was nowhere near ready to talk about it.

He didn't want to, each time he thought about that night he would get hard in minutes and feel pathetic, disgusted and ashamed for hours after. It wasn't healthy but avoidance had always been something he was particularly good at.

The horrifying part of it all was that there was a part of him, a dark, twisted one that had always been there, fed by years at the Dursleys and probably a byproduct of Tom's Horcruxe, that had loved it. Loved how Sam had taken him, loved how he had been destroyed and possessed by the taller man, had loved feeling like a simple toy in his grasp, for him to play with as he had wished. And it was wrong, Harry knew it, it was freakish and he couldn't help but think that if his family knew, they would reject him, spit on him like Uncle Vernon used to.

Harry was a thirty-year-old war veteran and he still felt like a little frightened child in his cupboard when those unwanted thoughts came to mind.

It was pitiful and he hated himself for it but it was so ingrained in him, no matter how hard he had tried to get rid of it, it stuck.

Besides, he knew he was good or at least more powerful than your average wizard… If he had really wanted to, well he probably could have freed himself.

But he hadn't and he wasn't fooling himself into thinking it was his magic's fault or other nonsense, it was entirely him and it wasn't very reassuring.

He hadn't been able to sleep since he had been back, hadn't been able to work properly, had started to drink more frequently and it showed on his weathered, slightly gaunt face. But damn it, he couldn't, a taunting deep voice kept oozing things like, mine, slut, you love it Harry, see you around bright-eyes… It was maddening, his clothes kept scratching on his healing throat, the bruises now a sickly yellow when he would put off the glamour in his bathroom, the way Harry couldn't help but caress the S W carved into his hip with the tip of his fingers, flinching when he realized what he was doing.

Sam was making him crazy, even an ocean apart, there was no escaping that smirk, those eyes, those bloody hands and lips and muscles…

Kingsley kept asking him if he was ready to go back because things had started to stir more significantly over there but he kept saying no because he dreaded the day he would have to inevitably return. America meant Sam in his mind, he was sure he would meet him again the moment he would put two feet on American soil, Fate just liked screwing with him that much.

And if that wasn't enough, the ache was back, that empty feeling numbing him came back full force and as intense as ever, but he wouldn't, couldn't do that in London, perhaps it was the feel of the magic here that had begun to irked him, itching at his skin uncomfortably when he had embraced the wild nature of the USA's sentient one or perhaps it was just lingering guilt towards Ginny, the kids and everybody else…

So he stayed, playing and helping the kids, taking care of them while his wife was doing Merlin knows what, talking with Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, a normal, sane life.

No matter how much he loved his family, it really wasn't doing it for him anymore.

Harry was irritated bordering on angry all of the damn time and people would start to take notice if he didn't do something about it, fast.

Well, something had happened, it wasn't of his own doing though.

Harry had been having drinks with Ron at the pub talking about kids (they're real devils I'm telling you mate), women ('Mione drives me up the wall most of the time but I love her you know) and other silly things (can you believe that ponce Malfoy got married to that beauty) and Harry's heart really wasn't in it. He just let Ron rant drunkenly while he tried valiantly to get spectacularly smashed.

It worked and he stumbled back home after having dropped a brain dead Ron back to his wife almost splinching himself in the process. When he was in the parlor he was rather glad the kids were at their respective friends' place cause he would have been ashamed if they had caught him like that, he wouldn't have heard the end of it too, he was sure.

Through his drunken mind he saw a male coat hanging, thinking, naively, he would later realize, that Bill or Neville must have left it before making his way up the stairs, weird noises were assaulting his ears and he giggled like a fool as he disrobed himself. And when he opened the door and he saw Ginny on her back being pounded into by someone that looked distinctively like her coach, he sobered up rather quickly, his wide smile disappearing and the bottom of his stomach twisting at the sight. The disgusting grunts and pants had stopped and he came back to himself to see the horror stricken look of his wife and the fear-filled one of the bastard, he almost smirked at that but he didn't have the force to, "Harr-"

He didn't let the bitch finish just turned on his heels, his only thought to get out of here as fast as he could, he opened the front door, puked on the sidewalk and apparated to George's flat in Diagon Alley where he collapsed on the couch.

He woke up to the smell of a hangover potion that he gulped down like it was the best thing he had ever tasted, the events of last night sunk back into him and he choked. He couldn't very well be angry at Ginny, he had done the exact same thing after all (filthy moans, Sam and a rough voice, bright-eyes) and he wasn't, he was irritated she had done that in their bed and in their home but that was just it, he wasn't feeling much of anything about it, he should have been furious, marching in there and cursing the prick to hell and back but he wasn't and that was telling enough.

Harry didn't blame her; he hadn't made love to her in ages, he would have done the same thing in her place (actually had done it). Besides the only emotion coursing through him as he recounted what had happened to a sympathetic George was a sort of odd relief, he had a reason now (which made him kind of a coward but who cares) he could let her go, everybody will be better for it, that, he was sure of, he nodded to himself decisively.

The weeks following the disastrous night had been hectic and that was a mild word to describe the tornado of consequences it had brought.

He had filed for a divorce almost the day after; it made front-page news the next day.

Harry had been stalked by a desperate Ginny ever since claiming that she was sorry, that they could work this out and Harry had told her he didn't blame her, that he wasn't angry ('But why are you not angry Harry?') but that it was a clear sign that things were over and that they obviously didn't love each other anymore ('I still love you honey, please Harry').

She was being cursed at profusely in the Prophet and the coach had been fired so Harry decided to make an interview to calm the crowds that really hadn't any say in his private life but seemed to think otherwise (he wasn't really surprised) saying that it had been a long time coming and that they had both grown apart and all that rot before asking if they could please stop because he wanted it to go smoothly for the children and they weren't helping.

It thankfully calmed them down.

He was now a freshly divorced wizard and Molly had cried her eyes out but all the others understood even as he loathed their pitying gazes, he put up with it. The only one suspicious of his complacent behavior was Hermione but she didn't dare say anything while everything was so fresh, he thanked Merlin for small mercies.

The kids had been upset to say the least but he had sat them down and explained everything to them, the guard had been decided, they stayed at Hogwarts most of the time anyway, Ginny and him would have one holiday each with them and one month each during the summer, she would have them as well if he had to work.

With all that was happening he hadn't had the time to think of the USA or the man who shall not be named, he thought amusingly with a wry smile but now that all was done and taken care of, well Kingsley had walked into his new apartment with pounding steps and after saying that he was sorry without sounding it which made Harry want to kiss the man, told him in no simpler words that he may have been the savior and he may have family problems but his team was getting restless, tired of waiting and the situation in America was getting alarming so if he could please get off his ass it would be greatly appreciated.

Harry closed his eyes, sighed, nodded sharply while taking a deep steadying breath and said, "Get me up to speed boss. I'm going tomorrow."


Don't scratch that wall Sam.

What the hell did that even mean? Well, he knew what it meant, he could feel the stupid fucking 'wall' he shouldn't pick on, it was like an impenetrable globe around half of his mind and he hated it. Since the case in Bristol where people he had met while soulless had looked at him with their eyes full of fear and resentment (and lust) he had realized he probably didn't want to know.

Don't scratch that wall Sam.

But damn it, it was maddening, he had never been good at not knowing, it was his thing after all: knowledge. And being in the dark about himself wasn't a good feeling, not a good one at all. And in some way it was him, at least a part of him, what was he truly capable of? He had spent one year and then some in that state for fuck's sakes and nobody was forthcoming. Bobby kept staring at him like he was afraid Sam would go off the handle any minute, the gruff hunter was wary of him and when he looked into those clear blue eyes he could see he was even somewhat afraid (guilt ate at him but he didn't know why). If a man like the older hunter who had seen some down right scary shit in his lifetime gazed at him like that, well, it wasn't a reassuring sign.

Don't scratch that wall Sam.

He knew he didn't want to know but he was curious, morbidly curious about what he had done, sometimes he would get flashes, images that would escape the confinement of the damn barrier…wall (the fucking thing in his brain) it happened mostly during the night and he tried to cling to them so that he could get answers, anything. But it never worked it kept escaping him; it was fucking frustrating that's what it was.

Don't scratch that wall Sam.

A pair of luminous green green eyes kept coming back though, it seemed significant and it was the only memory? That would show up during the day and at night repetitively like it wanted to tell him something, show him… However like the others it evaded him, it was more and more disappointing each time he saw those emerald pools but he tried harder every time as his chest constricted and puffed out ('mine'? Where did that come from?) for no other apparent reason than the freaking color green.

Don't scratch that wall Sam.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" He heard Dean questioned and he turned to see his brother shifting his green orbs (not green enough) from the road to him with a worried frown marring his features (when was he ever not when it came to him?).

"Nothing." He muttered looking out the window at the green leaves of the trees (almost that but not quite) on the side of the road.

"Nothin'?" He could all but see his older brother's skeptical look as he repeated his word incredulously.

"Yeah, nothing." He confirmed warningly, hoping that Dean would heed it and drop it.

"Huh. How come you got that look then?" Dean asked stubbornly, his hands clenching on the steering wheel and his eyes focused on the road.

"What look?" He snapped frustrated, tired and absolutely not in the mood for this.

"That look you get when you're thinking too much. Look Sammy, I know this is hard and God knows how much you must hate it but it's for your own good. That wall Death put in is the only thing that stands between you and Lucifer going all 'Shining' on you okay? So please don't even think about touching it." Dean announced like he hadn't said that a million times in the past month already.

Sam (not Sammy) appreciated the concern, he really did but Dean should know by now that the only way to ensure Sam does something is ordering he shouldn't do it, his dad had realized that pretty quickly back when he was a kid.

He nonetheless answered with what he knew Dean wanted to hear, he just wanted him off his back, didn't want to feel his intense worried glances for a while, "Okay." He so agreed, anything for a reprieve.

The other looked at him like he was measuring how much was true in that statement and Sam smiled a bit before lifting his hands innocently in the air adding, "Okay, I won't. Promise."

Dean's lips twitched like he didn't buy it at all but he seemed willing to let it passed for now after a look at his exhausted face, he nodded before going back to the highway, "So this case? Talk to me."

Sam threw himself into the familiar action, keeping him distracted and pushing any unwanted (wanted) thoughts at bay.

Don't scratch that wall Sam.

Since when did Black Dogs worked in pack and since when did they attack people and not animals, thought Sam incredulously but he was proven wrong as the evidences of the contrary kept staring at him in the face.

First dragons then Arachnes, since when did this life become Tolkien material he didn't know, and now this, it was getting a bit too much really. Something big was clearly going on and as always it was on them that the responsibility fell to work it out and fix it. He thought maybe it was the on going civil war in Heaven that had an impact on the current happenings, the weapons of the Host doing something or whatever but he wasn't so sure. First Cas would have said something, even if the guy was definitely acting weird lately, and second it was only affecting the monsters, Crowley getting in a tizzy about Purgatory (seriously, Purgatory?) and Samuel wanting the Alphas earlier in the year was another sign that it wasn't angel business, something else or someone else was making them act this way.

"You know I don't remember dad having half of the problems we have." Dean suddenly said out of the blue, his mouth full as he ate his burger.

Sam watched him, lips pursed, no matter how many times he had seen it; he couldn't for the life of him understand what women saw in the older hunter when he was an unfortunate witness of this sort of disgusting sight all day, every day. He nonetheless responded to the prompt he had heard in his brother's statement snorting, "Well maybe because he hadn't drunk demon blood or started the Apocalypse or maybe because he hadn't had any angels tethered to his ass 24/7. I don't know: take your pick."

Dean stopped his atrocious sounds of a starving beast to stare at him pensively before nodding like it all made sense now, "Point taken."

Sam rolled his eyes and went back to his research when a man passing in front of the window outside the dinner caught his attention, a spark of recognition zipping through his brain lightning fast and he turned in his seat to see the back of wild shoulder-length midnight black hair, a small but muscular stature and his hazel eyes dropped without his accord to a beautifully pert ass encased in flattering black jeans swinging discreetly as the unknown male walked…

Dean racking his throat meaningfully got him out of his daze and he turned around with a puzzled frown, "You alright?" His brother asked and he looked startled as his green eyes shifted to the sidewalk trying to understand what had got him so ruffled.

Sam shook his head, "I…" He said confusingly, "I don't know." He said lamely, "I thought… I thought I saw someone." He added trailing off.

What the holy hell was that? He thought and he turned back around one last time to see an old lady walking with her dog and that got him back on track as he returned to the case at hand trying to diffuse any thoughts of the lithe man.

It wasn't working but he tried anyway.


Harry breathed the air of the US deep into his lungs reveling in the magic he hadn't thought he had missed that much. It caressed him, stroking his skin and ruffling his hair gently like it was welcoming him back and he smiled blissfully for the first time in what felt like forever.

He sent his team all over the country in the more agitated places they had received readings on, from Oregon to Colorado passing by New Orleans, Kentucky, South Dakota…

For now he was going to wait for their reports before going back into the field, yes he was indeed stalling, he knew his Potter luck was going to play out someday and he'd meet Sam again and he'd rather that happen later than sooner.

Not really Gryffindor of him but nobody had to know the hero who had defeated the most feared dark wizard of their century was scared of a bloody muggle, they probably wouldn't believe it anyway, he thought with a humorless grin.

It had been two weeks already and the files that kept piling up were a bit odd for lack of a better word and rather, well, unsettling.

Creatures that had never been seen in this part of the world, some that hadn't been around since the middle ages appearing all over the map and killing or kidnapping innocent bystanders by the dozens. Some of his squad had been able to apprehend them either putting them down in self-defense or they had had the time to interrogate and the name that kept popping everywhere, taunting him, was a certain, 'Mother of All' or in a less pompous manner: Eve.

Harry was out of his depths here, he didn't know who or what or why or how except that monsters were acting under the orders of this 'mother' and they seemed to refer to her as some sort of God. Harry was deeply uncomfortable with that notion cause the monsters here in America were muggle ones not magical ones, therefore he had less training and less info with their types and he was pretty sure that even if you took the chit out of the equation they would be different, more wild and blood-thirsty probably influenced, without being aware of it, by the magic circling above the continent.

So he had fire-called Hermione to ask her if she could please research that Eve person and get back to him. So far: nothing and Harry was getting agitated.

He resigned himself to the fact that he'll go back into the fray soon and that it was his own bloody fault.

He had acclimated himself again to the feel of the magic reaching for his own in here and he didn't have the constant need to get out and get fucked like he used to but it was still an itch, he could ignore it well enough but he knew that he'll want to scratch it at some point.

Some point soon, damn it.

Harry was in Alliance, Nebraska, a small town surrounded by a dense forest that was the best refuge for what he had discovered was something called a Black Dog from the pictures he had seen off the old dusty books, it looked a bit like a Grim and lingering grief had panged in his chest at their resemblance with Padfoot, Sirius would have laughed at the mythical drawings, he thought smiling wistfully.

There had been a rather long string of deaths in the area, in the wood and at the edge of town, the local police force were claiming animal attacks but Harry had come to realize Americans were fond of using that for any inexplicable things, he would have found it funny if it wasn't so sad.

Harry was walking down the street when he felt the skin at the back of his neck tingling like he was being observed and he, in fact, could sense heated orbs on his back that somehow spread warmth through his limbs and made his magic rushed to the surface. He turned around but only saw an empty street, huh.

He could have sworn…

He shrugged before continuing down his path, putting the weird foreboding emotion at the back of his head; he had a Black Dog to track down.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he grinned from ear to ear and a bit maniacally if the wary stares he was gathering were anything to go by.

Okay, Harry had been prepared for one of those bloody things not a whole pack, he thought hysterically as he ran trying not to trip on any branches, he could have apparated out of there but he didn't want to leave without getting the job done. They were eight of them wankers and he had killed four already but it had only pissed the rest off. He felt one of the beast's heaving breaths, hot on his heels (literally) getting closer and closer and uncomfortably closer still and he doubled his effort, cursing himself for letting his wand drop at the most importune moment.

One of its paw appeared in his line of vision making him stumble and fall ungracefully on the leaves covered ground, shifting in mid-air to drop on his back, he looked up into feral yellow orbs and a threatening gaping maw clacking in front of him. He put one of his hands on it, trying to push the animal away uselessly and another protecting his face from the slobs of saliva descending on him.

He was going to call for desperate means right about now when two clear shots rang out and Harry saw the gigantic dog's life disappearing from his eyes, he pushed it away in disgust, heaving a sigh of relief before he lifted his head to thank his savior and his breath caught in his throat.

The man was taller than him (unsurprisingly) with short dirty blond spiky hair which was cropped close military style, muscled, from what he could see, in all the right places, a tan face revealing handsome features and a luscious mouth the likes of which Harry had never seen, he was stunning and should obviously be on the front of a model magazine rather than holding a gun in this hell hole but Merlin, Harry wasn't complaining.

He glanced up when he heard an amused snicker and he was captivated by the sparkling green orbs of the man staring back at him with a teasing glint and he blushed lightly when he realized what he had been doing.

"Enjoying the view princess?" A rough and deep voice said charmingly, a light southern drawl rolling around the vowels and fuck, Merlin, the taller man's voice had no right to do all it was doing to him. His stomach churned and turned pleasantly in a, by now, familiar feeling before he realized what the other had actually said and he scowled up at him.

"I'm no princess." He sneered to emphasize his point.

The standing male only winked at him and he really tried to keep his frown but the action was so silly that he couldn't keep a small smile from appearing, a hand was pushed in his line of sight and he grabbed the calloused limb allowing the unnamed man to put him back up. The small contact of the strong grip enveloping his smaller fingers made his body hummed and his hand to tingle at the warmth.

Bloody hell he thought as the man smiled widely at him showing straight, perfect white teeth, he responded with a smaller one, "Thanks. I thought I was going to become a chew toy there for a second."

The other laughed lowly, a rumble sinful sound, "Happy to help. I'm Dean by the way. British huh?" He inquired sticking his hand out.

Harry shook it lightly eager to touch that skin again but not wanting to embarrass himself it was already bad he had to be rescued when he had been perfectly in control, "Harry and yeah born and raised."

He couldn't help but think that the only man who had affected him that much had been- "Hey Sammy!" The other shouted out without taking his eyes off him and Harry shifted under the intense scrutiny, "We got an English damsel in distress over here."

"Shut up. I already killed four of them before you showed up and I could have very well taken care of the rest myself!" He snapped unnerved by the cocky smirk.

"Four of them?" Dean asked and Harry was glad to notice he sounded impressed too.

He nodded smugly.

They were suddenly interrupted by the sounds of big steps marching in their direction and a lighter voice than Dean's rang out, "What the hell Dean, eight, honestly? Dude, something has them in a frenzy." The man shouted, still not in view.

But Harry knew that voice, he knew it perfectly well, he could hear it drawling in his head every night, he knew to whom it belonged to.

He took an involuntary step back, his heartbeat doubled, he could feel his eyes widen in anticipation, he felt trapped, the familiar reflex of fight or flight kicked in but he couldn't move he didn't know if he wanted to stay or run.

So he stayed rooted to the spot like an idiot staring at the path where he could hear the sounds approaching, completely ignoring Dean's weird stare on him and suddenly: he was there and Harry had known it was bound to happen but not that soon or was it that late?

He hadn't been prepared, not at all, he thought, now that he could see Sam in all his gigantic glory, just like he remembered him, long shaggy brown hair, tan skin, a gun in his hand (why did that arouse him, he didn't know, didn't want to know), blood on his clothes, a little satisfied grin and his hazel-green orbs gazing down at him in concern…

Wait: concern?

No that wasn't right, but yes that was what he was seeing for the first time in those usually dark blank eyes, "You okay?" He heard Sam's voice, the same but a bit lighter, say in a worried tone.

"Sam?" He asked roughly and a bit dubiously because the guy may look exactly like his Sam but that was definitely not his Sam. For Merlin's sakes he didn't even seem to remember him, he actually looked like a puppy dog right about now and his magic hadn't sizzled in warning like it usually did when his Sam was in the vicinity.

Harry stared up at the man, studying him and he heard a sharp intake of breath coming from not!Sam as they made eye-contact.

"You know him?" Dean asked curiously.

Sam shook his head but he was squinting at Harry like was trying to solve a puzzle.

Oh that was rich all right! Thought Harry incredulously and he snorted at the question before laughing hysterically at Sam's denial, he clutched at his stomach and he tried in vain to stop at the looks he was getting from the two men but it was hard, really it was, his eyes started stinging and he was horrified to see he had begun crying. He stopped rather suddenly at the realization, swiping at the tears and putting both of his hands in front of his face and taking a deep wobbly breath.

"Do you have an evil twin somewhere Sam?" He asked with a humorless chuckle.

"Huh, no…" The other trailed off.

Then suddenly he could see grim understanding washing over their faces. The men looked at each other showing loads of meanings and signs through tilts of their heads and narrowed eyes until Dean sighed tiredly, "Look, I'm Sam's older brother. It's complicated but whenever you met him in the past year, it wasn't him." Harry stared at him skeptically and Dean seemed to see it was a rather poor explication, "I mean he wasn't himself. But he's back and whole now." He stated seriously.

And Harry could effectively see that whatever had been missing from the man was back now, his magic only slid comfortably on his skin when he gazed at Sam, it made sense but still…

"What did I do to you?" Sam asked suddenly staring at him intensely, it was a remainder of how Sam used to be and he looked away.

"You don't want to know." Harry muttered gazing at the trees and he slumped exhausted.

"Yeah listen to Brit Boy Sam. Better off not knowing." Dean said with a pointed glance.

"No. Look, I wanna remember okay. Please, just please." Sam said pleadingly, not wanting to leave well enough alone, "Just this time." He added for his brother's benefit.

"Sam." The older brother said exasperatedly with a hint of concern.

Harry's drained green orbs moved up to gaze into pleading, desperate hazel ones and just like that, he agreed.

"Okay." He croaked in a dry whisper.

Harry only lifted up his shirt on the left side, ignoring their questioning gazes and dropping the glamour, staring over their heads as he showed the carved up S W marring the pale skin of his hip.

"Fuck." He heard Dean's rough voice breathing the curse out.

"Oh God." Was the horrified whisper that followed and Harry saw Sam stumbling on his feet, wide-eyed and limbs trembling before he fell on the ground clutching his head hard between his two large hands and closing his eyes in despair. "What I did to you…" He trailed off, his breathing ragged and they could see his eyes shifting behind his eyelids frantically.

"It really wasn't you was it?" Harry asked staring at Sam's prone form on the forest floor, it was hard to connect the man he had met all those months ago with this weaken version of him rocking back and forth and gripping his knees like it was the only thing keeping him together.

"No. The man who did that to you: he had no soul." Came the unexpected and stony explication from Dean.

Of all the things…

…Harry hadn't thought of that but it made a horrifying sense and he watched Sam sadly as he heaved trying to get some control back.

Harry was still wary of the man even thought he knew he wasn't his Sam, he still had the same face, same body, same everything and it was difficult to discern one from the other in his mind but he would try because he had the feeling if he wanted to understand what was going on in this damn country he would have to stay with them, one way or another.

They seemed to be what Kingsley had described to him as hunters, muggles who sometimes took care of wild monsters trying to save lives but Harry had to be careful now that he knew, they wouldn't be welcoming of his magic.

Great, just great.

Of course the best shag of his life (as well as the worst) had to be a soulless, now soulful, muggle hunter, of course… He thought with bitter acceptance.

"I'm so sorry, shit, I'm so damn sorry Harry. I…" Sam seemed so lost, "I don't know what to say. What I put you through. There are no words… You don't realize how sorry I am, how disgusted I feel right now… Fuck." He added looking up at him with watery orbs.

Harry didn't know how to answer to that because he hadn't really blamed Sam, ever, when he thought about it, only himself and his trusting nature. He had often admitted, during some lonely nights how he had loved it as much as he had hated it. Sam had always been a paradox in his mind that two very different parts of his brain kept fighting about: it was normality against freedom.

"Hey, what's going on? What exactly did Mr Hyde do to you?" Dean asked suddenly after having made sure that his little brother was back from whatever nightmares he had been trapped in.

The both of them startled like they had forgotten he was even there in the first place.

Harry felt a bit indignant Sam would look on the verge of vomiting at the fact that they had slept together but he stopped that thought before it could come out because that was foolish and stupid and what in Merlin's name was he thinking? The hunter had raped him during their last encounter: didn't he have some dignity?

"I…" Sam begun, "I…" He added lamely before trailing off, his gaze unfocused.

Harry decided to take the reins because it was clear Sam was in no way capable of talking about it right now while he had had months to come to terms with it, "Well, we had sex, amazing sex I might add." He added and Sam stared up him in surprise wonder, which made him smile a little before he turned back to Dean who was wearing a cocky, charming smirk, "The first time I've met Sam and the second time, the second time…" Harry looked at Sam who nodded weakly, "Your brother, he…"

Dean's green eyes stared at him impatiently and Harry plowed on, "He saw me outside a bar in Colorado with another man and he didn't, he didn't like it." Dean snorted at the obvious understatement and it somehow helped him to continue, "He knocked me out. Took me to this warehouse where I had taken down some vampires. Tied me up and…" He gestured at his left hip vaguely like it could somehow encompassed all that had happened that night.

Dean paled, looking ill, boring down on his brother's sitting body with so much emotions swirling in his irises that Harry felt like he was intruding just watching them.

Sam got up, never looking Harry in the eye, seeming rather small which was a fit considering the sheer size of the man, his shoulders hunched and his hair a curtain which hid his features from the rest of the world.

It was like he wanted to come off as harmless, Harry appreciated the effort but that ship had sailed a long time ago.

Dean coughed awkwardly before clapping his hands loudly, "How about some drinks? I feel like everybody deserve one here." He said cheerfully trying to dispel the tense atmosphere, it didn't really work but Harry gave him points for trying.

Besides he could definitely do with some cold ones right about now, "Lead the way." He exclaimed to mask his wariness as his eyes kept drifting to the younger's brother slumped form as they walked.

Sam, not!Sam? Which is which?

Harry would see for himself, thank you very much, he thought sharply as he hung back and accioed his holly stick with some wandless and wordless he was thankful for at the moment, hunters, he reminded himself, handsome ones but still, he had learned the hard way not to be fooled by a pretty face (or bulging muscles.)


Green eyes black and blown in want staring up at him, "Sam, I need…", a thin white neck covered by hickeys, blood sliding from his collarbone, ripped up shirt showing smooth pale skin and pink abused nipples, heated and dazed eyes that were glowing looking up at him as a hot, wet, warm mouth sucked him in greedily, "Just take it sweetheart", two pretty globes showing a pink, puckered hole, "Virgin", a low dark chuckle, his cock engulfed in searing, tight, perfect heat, "Please, fuck me…", "I want you to feel it…", "Such a whore…", "Harder!", bright glazed orbs, a large hand squeezing a straining throat until a choking noise, "Sam", "You're mine", a whispered promise as he came filling up that sweet hole…

Rage going through his body as he saw what was his all over some moron, "Didn't I tell you, you were mine?", a naked fragile body tied up from the ceiling in iron chains and gagged in a red room, two emerald pools looking at him in panic and fear, whimpers of pain as he bit on that supple body, "You know you want it…", "No" whispered in a whizzing trembling voice, dark hair all over the place as the chained up form struggled, "Shh, shh, are you scared?", a dark laugh as bright-eyes nodded frantically, his strong hand falling on the smooth pale cheeks of the bound man countless times till both were a fetching glowing red, the slump pliant body racked by rattling breaths, biting until he drew blood and skin and he swallowed growling, "Mine", a gleaming sharp knife cutting through skin like it was butter carving up his initials in big bold, red letters, "You're mine", tortured screams echoing in his ears, coppery scent filling his nostrils, his cock pounding into the so tight, so good non-stretched hole of the barely conscious man, "Sam", harder, deeper, faster, "Bitch", until they both came spurting semen all over the ground and in and on that beautiful ass, the blacked out delicate male a white fallen form on the red bloodied ground, "Yours", a satisfied smirk, "See you around bright-eyes…",…

Those images and sounds and feels and emotions kept flashing in a never ending loop in his mind, Sam couldn't understand how Harry was able to stay and stand in his presence, what he had done…Fuck, he couldn't escape those thoughts now that they were circling in his brain, he should have listened to Dean, to Harry… He had raped him, rape, rape, rape his mind helpfully repeated again and again and again…

It was a nightmare and each time he stared into those startling green eyes (he couldn't do them any justice, they were unreal), the watery suffering ones he had provoked were just there, juxtaposed in their place and he flinched away.

It wasn't helping that he had been perpetually hard, shamefully erect, for the last past hours, since he had stared into the emerald pools as he had stumbled upon them in the forest, he couldn't help himself, the memories so fresh and real and hot. It was like he relived them each time and it haunted, taunted him with the possibilities but he couldn't, he wouldn't… Harry would probably just reject him anyway, he thought with sad acceptance. The things he had done to him, Dean had no idea even if he had seen his initials deep into the smaller male's left hip, he couldn't encompass all the things… he didn't want his older brother to know, he was so disgusted with himself.

The fact that he still wanted, needed, desired him didn't help his mood at all, he thought as he watched Harry bent over the pool table in a graceful arch, he closed his eyes, it was too much…

Now that he knew, he couldn't unknown it and it was like Harry was that thing he had been missing since he got his soul back and he just wanted to touch, feel, lick, bite the English man all over, so much, his hands trembled with need and his member strained and pulse painfully against his jeans.

Dean came back from the counter with two glasses of whiskey, double for him and he drunk it down, relishing in the burn sliding down his throat and pooling in his stomach, he closed his eyes and sighed tiredly, leaning his head back, this day had been freakin' draining.

"You know, you can't blame yourself. It wasn't you." Dean said uncomfortably, his eyes watching Harry as he played.

"You have no idea Dean." He said his own orbs following the smaller hunter's movements (his deliciously flexible body, grunts, moans, groans as he bended him in impossible ways…), "No fucking clue." Sam muttered in a dark subdued voice.

Dean sighed before smirking, his eyes taking on a teasing light, "You know, I understand what not!you saw in him, he's certainly something, way to go Sammy boy, I didn't now you had it in you."

Sam appreciated what his brother was doing, down playing what he had done with his dirty jokes and lewd comments but he couldn't quite manage a smile, let alone a laugh. He nonetheless accepted the slight change in the conversation, "It doesn't bother you that he's you know: a man." He asked curiously cause the older man had been rather quiet on that point where Sam thought he would have been on his case immediately, would have teased unmercifully until he would have called him a jerk or something.

"Well I'm all for the ladies but I can appreciate beauty when I see it Sam, besides he's a bit feminine isn't he?" He asked rhetorically before adding, "You know me, anything with a pulse; I've already done some dudes in the past. It doesn't make me gay, bi-curious maybe…" Dean said thoughtfully.

Sam choked a bit but he figured it made sense, Dean was a man-whore after all and it thankfully took his mind off a certain dark-haired male.

A commotion in the bar, and some noises getting louder brought his attention back on the corner where Harry had been to see him struggling a bit in a larger man's grip, from his vantage point Sam could see the son of a bitch whispering some things into his tiny ear that made the other roll his eyes and fume as he narrowed his eyes and said something back fiercely that seemed to anger the taller man.

Sam hadn't even realized he had got up before he was walking, fists clenched, jaw firmly shut, vision red and hazy as he approached the altercation with, he could see from the corner of his eyes, a worked up Dean on his left, muscle coiled, ready and an eager look on his face like he wanted nothing more than to punch the offending man.

When they arrived, making a beeline for Harry, he had already detangled himself and had taken a fighting stance, feet wide apart and tensed back, "Are you deaf? I said no. So piss off." He was hissing and spiting in the other's face.

The asshole was opening his mouth, no doubt to say something stupid so he cut him off, "You heard what the man said you moron. Walk away while you still have all your teeth." He growled putting his arm on Harry's shoulders and he was surprised, and secretly pleased, to feel the man relaxed under it, he squeezed the small shoulder comfortingly and Harry leaned into it, Sam's eyes widened.

"Yeah fuck off." Dean added taking two threatening steps forward and an intimidating glare, putting his own bicep on the other shoulder and Harry seemed to melt under them.

The man backed off, cowed and Sam smirked triumphantly, straightening his back to take full advantage of his height, "Got something kinky going on huh." He said smiling like a dick.

Sam tensed and he looked down to see a rather fetching, light blush dusting the pale face and making his eyes pop even more.

Dean just stared at him in a deadpan way, "Yeah we do, got a problem with that? Jealous perhaps? No? Well then: shoo." His brother said lightly, making a shooing motion with his hand and Sam hid his wide smile in Harry's dark (so black it was almost blue) hair while he heard the smaller male snicker.

When the jerk finally walked away, the three of them looked at each other in turn before laughing, Dean's deep rumble mixing with his own throaty one but he stopped when he heard the tinkling light (fucking beautiful) one of Harry's. Sam observed with some sort of awe as the man threw his head back, his eyes shut and features relaxed for the first time since they had met in the forest earlier. He looked up when he realized Dean had stopped too and he saw his brother in the same sort of trance as he stared upon Harry's wide grin with a heated, focused gaze.

Damn it, he knew this look in his brother's eyes, had seen it a million times before (even if it seemed to be a bit more here), he was attracted to the green-eyed man too… Fuck.

Well Sam would back down then… Dean deserved to be happy for once and he had a feeling Harry would stay longer than his other conquests (the fact that he was a hunter not withstanding) and the messy-haired man would find so much more with his older brother.

How did Sam think he had a chance in the first place? He asked himself incredulous and bitter, with what he had done, it was a miracle he was even allowed more than ten feet of the man.

They made their way back to their table with little smiles except for a sullen Sam as the crowd parted like the Red Sea in front of their confident strides.

They took their seats, Dean taking the one next to Harry and putting his arm in a possessive move behind his head, jealousy flared in the pit of his stomach but he squashed it down viciously, him sitting opposite to them.

"What's a British hunter doing here?" Dean asked curiously.

Harry seemed to flounder at the question for a bit, "I'm not a hunter, well, not exactly… My boss sent me here because we had more and more reports of creatures going crazy over here." He said quietly.

"Your boss?" Sam asked in shock cause what the hell?

"Yes…" Harry trailed off lamely.

"Wait, you're getting paid for hunting?" Dean asked somewhat eagerly.

"Hmm." Harry nodded, "See I'm like the police force but with strange stuff." He tried to explain.

"Shit, no way." Dean muttered, "Like the X-Files!" He exclaimed.

Harry looked at him amused, "The what?" He asked with a smile.

"You don't-? Never mind…" His older brother said.

A relaxed thoughtful silence settled and Sam sipped at his drink as he regarded Harry who seemed to be struggling in some inner battle, like he wanted to say something but didn't know if he could, Sam stared at him patiently waiting and he saw when the other man seemed to have come to a decision, looking at them warily, "I'm what's called an Auror. I… I've got magic." He whispered, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched.

"Demon deal or the 'waving sticks around' kind?" Dean asked nonchalantly, his arm staying where it was but Sam could see his left hand sliding to where his gun lay hidden.

Sam's own limb going discreetly for his knife even if he really didn't want to take it out, he'd probably warn Harry, tell him to go and never to see them again, it would pained him but he knew he wouldn't, couldn't bring himself to hurt the man again.

"Natural born kind, you know about us?" Harry confirmed, asking in breathless whisper, he'd probably seen their actions just then.

Sam's arm relaxed and he sighed in relief and he saw Dean's features smoothing out and a pleased glint entering his hazel-green orbs.

"We got tangled in some big shit two years ago and we had the extreme privilege", Dean sneered mockingly and Harry seemed to understand as he looked at them sympathetically, "to meet the Minister of Magic of America and well a close friend of ours confessed that his deceased wife had been a squit, a squid-"

"A squib." Harry snorted.

"Yeah that. Anyway long story short: we know."

"Merlin, you must have done some bloody grand thing." Harry said sounding impressed.

Sam and Dean both winced cause, yeah… jump-starting the Apocalypse…

"So what are you really doing here?" Sam asked with a smirk and Harry looked up startled with wide eyes (so. fucking. green. and intense and Sam knew how they turned a few shades darker when he would lick just there, behind his right ear…) before nodding in compliance.

"It helps that you know. I've been investigating here since the beginning of the year," He said with a pointed glance at Sam, "and sending my team all over the country but we've only found something new recently and I feel like you would know more about it than me." Harry said significantly.

"Probably yeah, monsters have been going nuts lately. The friend I mentioned, Bobby, us and another one; we've been looking into it but so far nada. What have you got?" Dean said in his hunter-mode tone and Sam shifted into it too, because anything would be welcome.

"Apparently, from what some of my men have reported so far, the creatures are somehow taking orders from what they call: the 'Mother of All' or Eve. I reckon that she's like their Goddess or something. Ring any bells?" Harry asked staring at them.

"Your men?" Dean asked, not focusing on the important bit at all.

"Yes, I'm higher up than them, their referent, leader… I guess." Harry answered matter-of-factly, neither arrogant nor shy like it was an indisputable fact and Sam didn't know why that seemed to make his cock twitch.

"Look at you…" Dean roughly said looking impressed, Sam wasn't the only one affected then.

God, this was messed up.

Harry bit his lower lip before swiping his tongue over it making them wet and entirely too desirable (lips raw and red because of the way Sam had plundered his mouth like he had wanted to fuse with it).

Sam shook his head trying to dispel the memories and he gripped the table when he saw Dean's green eyes darken with want as he followed the movement.

He forced himself to release his hold and to get his head back on topic; Dean caught the action as he looked up to be locked with muddy green orbs watching him keenly, he was the one who looked away first.

Sam could only thing of one Eve, however that wasn't possible was it? Though with what they had lived through he shouldn't be surprised by that piece of info. Dean stared at him with some exasperation creeping in his eyes, he could relate, this, this sounded big, like Azazel big. She must be linked to this Purgatory business; he thought brain cells cocking into gear in their worn, used, familiar way.

"No but it doesn't sound good. Bobby is a genius he'll probably find something." He said picking out his phone and sending the older hunter the new knowledge that had just literally appeared on their lap (oh how he whished…).

Dean turned, flashing his signature crooked smile at Harry whose eyes widen and Sam could see even from his seat, his pupils dilating like they had when he had been the one flirting with him like that, "So… it sounds like we're on the same job: Care to join us?" Dean practically purred.

Sam stared at Harry intently while they waited for his answer, Dean feigned that he didn't care about the response either way but Sam could see the nervous twitch of his fingers and the anticipating glint in his orbs that gave him away. Harry glanced at Dean who smiled quick and dirty, the smaller man licked his lips before snapping his attention on Sam who felt like he was pinned, naked and his soul bare for those green gems to dissect and judge, Sam shifted under the overwhelming, complete attention of the wizard before Harry nodded to himself apparently having found what he was looking for and the shaggy-brown haired man let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

"Yeah, yeah okay." Harry said finally with an uncertain up-turn of his sinful mouth.

Dean's features smoothed out into a blinding grin and Sam felt his own lips shifting into a little genuine smile.

The smell of rain and a forest after a storm suddenly filled his nostril with the heady, bizarre, but pleasant scent, a feeling of peace and contentment he hadn't felt since, well, since: ever and he looked at Harry because it seemed to be coming from him. Dean's head whipped to gaze at Harry with wonder as well as heated green eyes; he liked it too then… of course, "What is that?" Sam asked with a strained voice cause the Auror really wasn't helping his self-control.

Harry stared at them with puzzled orbs before his eyes widened in astonished comprehension, "Oh, sorry, it's my magic. She does that sometimes…" He said sounding embarrassed.

"She?" Dean asked curiously, his voice deeper, still affected by it.

"She saved me so many times it seemed rude to call her an 'it' you know." Harry stated.

"Like my baby." Dean nodded like he had discovered one of the secrets of the universe and Sam gazed at him fondly.

Harry just looked at him oddly and Dean rolled his eyes, "My car." He emphasized.

Harry chuckled lowly, "Oh, I suppose yes." He said, nodding uncertainly.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, grinning unrepentantly when Harry glanced at him helplessly.

"Shut up." Dean snapped when he saw their exchange.

Sam laughed for the second time that day, which was a miracle, he saw his brother's twitching lips and lively muddy green orbs, which was another, and he heard Harry's quiet chuckles, which were just... yeah… perfect.

Don't scratch that wall, my ass, he couldn't help but think.


They walked back to the motel in comfortable silence while Harry felt like he had sealed his fate by saying yes to Dean's insufferably charming smile earlier.

As he followed the two hunters, watching their broad backs shifting underneath their jackets, his magic calm and settled, buzzing on skin lovingly for the first time in what felt like years he found that, for one, he didn't mind that much.

As soon as they arrived at the motel, Harry went for his room when Dean called out, "Hey where are you going?"

Harry stopped turning and looked at them confused, "To my room?" He asked uncertainly at their skeptical gazes.

"Huh huh." Dean said negatively, "You don't know half of the stuff crawling around in this part of the world, grab your bag and come in our room. It's warded and it's safer." He stated.

In a room, alone: with both of the brothers together? He thought stunned but what Dean was saying was true, he hadn't been on the actual field a lot and he didn't really know against what he would need to fight, bollocks… He resigned himself and nodded understandingly.

Sam's eyes widened at his affirmation and he understood his astonishment, he really did.

When he arrived in front of the door with his duffel, after having taken a shower, he took a deep steadying breath and knocked on it two times.

Harry was looking down at his nervously shifting feet when the door opened and he stared up at a tan, bare, heavily muscled and really familiar torso. He shouldn't still drool over Sam's body but each time he would meet him again, he would be reminded of why it was this man that had captured his attention the first time around. His eyes glided over contracting muscles before finding the darken stare of Sam's boring down on him, he forced himself to keep looking there and not anywhere lower, "Humm…" He said uncomfortably when Sam didn't say anything but kept on staring.

He seemed to come back into himself, shrugging his shoulders and opening the door wider, "Sorry, come on in." Sam muttered lowly with an embarrassed look.

Harry thought it was cute and it was probably the strangest think he had thought about that man so far today. He passed the threshold his arm sliding on the naked skin without meaning to and he shivered at the warmth the other emitted.

His back on the man, he didn't see Sam's pupils dilating and the shudder passing through the taller male's limbs as he closed his eyes for a semblance of control.

And when Dean got out of the bathroom, clad only in black boxer briefs and skin glistening with droplets of water, well… Harry felt trapped.

"Harry, finally here I see." Dean drawled seductively and Harry's eyes widen at the tone, his cock twitching at the way his name rolled off his tongue warmly.

The spiky-haired man prowled towards him in a predator move that had Harry frizzing in his spot, following his movements with dark emerald pools of want as they gazed at his flexing biceps, his thick hands, his shoulders rolling with each steps forward, his hard chest showing firm muscles, his infuriating smirk widening at his appreciative stare and his muddy green eyes focused. Dean stopped when he was only a breath away and Harry had to look up so that he could hold his somewhat challenging stare, "Good." He oozed as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the back of one of his hand caressing his cheek, his neck, descending down his arm till it reached his bag, detangling his fingers and letting it drop on the floor.

"Cause you see…" He said lowly in his right ear before biting the lobe teasingly and soothing it with his tongue and Harry shuddered, groaning and helpless in face of Dean's unrelenting moves, the lust pouring out of his every pore. Dean leant back to bore down on him with gleaming eyes blown with lust and Harry didn't do anything as the man descended on him to capture his lips, it was so different than Sam but as overwhelming and encompassing as Sam's rough snogs had been.

It started soft, just a press of the other's impossibly full lips on his, leaning back again and Harry followed the movement eyes closed in bliss, breathing ragged and eager for more before Dean dove back in, slotting his mouth perfectly biting his upper-lip then his bottom-lip before moving it slowly like he was tasting him, wanting to have every drop Harry could produce and Harry moaned loudly at the action and Dean took the opportunity to slide his tongue in groaning appreciatively, putting his hand in his dark messy hair and another on the small of his back. Harry's hands came up gripping the back of his head, scratching it and Dean hummed in approval, Harry swallowed the sound with his tongue and he forced Dean's head closer.

Dean took that as his cue as his mouth suddenly moved faster, deeper mapping his inside thoroughly and Harry had to remind himself to just, breathe as his own tongue battled with the invading one. Dean won and Harry submitted himself as the hunter practically tongue-fucked his mouth, sliding in and out, in and out in a dizzying rhythm, that had Harry gasping and grasping for purchase on his head, his hair, his shoulders. Dean's stubble scratching and rapping against his smooth skin making him pant and shudder wantonly. Then Dean came ever closer and Harry could suddenly feel, his hot, wide, hard member pressing into him and he moaned dirtily one of his hand coming down greedily to feel it, rubbing it slowly with his palm.

Dean ripped his mouth away from him growling and heaving loud breaths in his ear and Harry gasped taking in a lungful of air, "Fuck." Dean swore his voice rough and deep and Harry shuddered at the sound, "Goddamn Harry." He said as he gripped his hand to stop its movements and the smaller male whined disappointingly as Dean stared down at him in a mix between amused and fascinated.

Dean's eyes shifted to something behind him and the wave of arousal that had hit him lifted a bit, enough for him to remember: Sam.

He tried to turn but Dean still had his hand on his lower back, fingers dipping passed his pants teasingly and keeping him firmly attached to his bare stomach, he was about to say something though he didn't know what but he was suddenly back to chest with Dean. The large calloused hands of the hunter on both of his hips, "Cause you see Harry…" Dean repeated in a gravelly voice and Harry felt his erect member digging between the two globes of his covered bum and he couldn't help but to grind it tauntingly back against the hard cock, a strangled breath in his ear made him smirk but the hands squeezed warningly, restraining his movement, "Look at him." And Harry looked up to see Sam frozen in place, his muscles coiling and rippling, his eyes dark in want, no, need as he observed them and his green eyes dropped to the prominent bulge as he licked his lips. "He wants you, wants to fuck you again and I know you want it too Harry." He whispered wickedly licking his exposed neck and littering it with little nips, Harry arched his back wantonly and he was rewarded by dark chuckles that made him groan, eyes sliding shut. Dean's thick fingers gripped his chin harshly and he snapped his eyes open locking them on the wide lust filled hazel ones of Sam.

Dean suddenly grabbed the hem of his shirt, slipping it off and shucking it on the ground before putting his right hand on his right hip and the other one began to caress the infamous scar softly, Harry cried out obscenely loud, "That's right sweetheart," Harry's half lidded eyes watched as Sam's left hand dropped to the front of his jeans, opening it to grip his full, long cock as the tall man watched his brother's actions his almost black orbs by now, still locked on his own.

Harry's hands came up to grip the back of Dean's neck, directing his mouth on his own pale column and Dean heeded his silent order as he bit with force on the juncture between his throat and collarbone before licking it like it was a treat, "Dean, Sam…" He gasped their names out with what he realized with horror was desperation.

"Holy fuck." Sam breathed out staring at Harry in awe.

"Yeah…" Dean said with what he had surely wanted to be seductive but was more of a breathy sound, "Just like that…" He muttered looking at Harry with amazed pleased orbs, through long eyelashes, "I feel that if we want to work together starting now, we need to clear the air don't y'all agree?" He asked sliding his hands up his chest and cruelly pinching and plucking his nipples, hard.

Harry writhed in his grasp, almost convulsing thrusting his pelvis, pressing into nothing and moaning, "Please." Dean growled lowly and somewhat potent, a rumble that Harry felt all the way down to his bones and his cock throbbed.

Sam was panting and he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, dropping his pants, the clothe pooling at his feet and his prick jumping out, flushed red at the tip and as big as he remembered it, his cockhead already gleaming wet with precome and Harry licked his lips as he stared at it.

Dean moved then and Harry whimpered at the loss of heat but then Sam was suddenly there, his form a shadow looming above him and he tilted his head up to look into pleading hazel, Harry waited a beat before nodding at the silent question.

Sam didn't wait for a second, bending, putting a large hand in his hair, the other on his ass kneading it sinfully and Harry groaned. The tall hunter seemed to spur into action at the sound descending and prying his lips open, with little bites and nips turning them red and his brain into nothing but jumbled thoughts. Harry opened his mouth eagerly and he was struck by how alike with Sam's soulless kisses it was. Rough and hard and deep and just how Harry had loved it the first time, he thought as the man sucked on his tongue before releasing him and gazing down on him with something like adoration. The man swiped his thumb gently on his cheekbone at odds with his previous action and Harry leaned into his hand looking up at him with what he hoped was forgiveness.

Sam nodded with storming emotions swirling in the depths of his irises.

And Dean was suddenly back behind him, his now uncovered member pulsing in heat, "What do you want princess?" He asked teasingly in the shell of his ear, kissing his shoulder blade sweetly while Sam popped the button of his jeans slowly, the wet purple tip of his dick showing and he grunted, thrusting into his large hands uselessly.

"Not a princess." Harry said and he was suddenly naked, trapped between Sam's muscled torso and Dean's rippling arms.

"That won't get you anywhere green-eyes." Sam said smirking wickedly.

Harry whimpered as Dean let a lone finger trailing, barely touching his straining member, "Please, I want… I want…" Harry trailed off in a gasp as Sam thrust back into his already open and willing mouth, Dean's lips clamping on his shoulder and one of his hands twisting his pink nubs almost painfully. Harry's right hand came up to slide through Sam's long hair, his other hand grasping Dean's firm backside. He wanted them closer, in him, on him, behind him and in front of him, everywhere in every part of him, filling him like he had never been before.

"Yeah?" Dean enquired roughly.

Harry tried to grasp for a semblance of control, "I want, I need… I need Sam to take my mouth", he stopped at the strangled desperate sound Sam made at the back of his throat before plowing on forgetting about dignity and trying not to blush, "And Dean… I want Dean in me." He finished.

Dean growled, "Your wish is my command princess." He said moaning and letting his dick slide between Harry's cheeks and catching on his dry hole and Harry whimpered, his hips bucking madly desperate to feel full enough to burst.

He was manhandled on his back, legs pulled wide apart and he turned his head left when he felt the bed dip on his side and he was face to face with the broad, thick head of Sam's cock put directly in front of his mouth, he looked up with heavy eyelids as Sam caressed his hair tenderly. The man bent down and kissed him, closed mouth, chaste and sweet and Harry responded in kind somewhat even more aroused by the gentle action.

He grasped the length of his need, Sam breathing growing labored above him but stopped looking across his body when he felt Dean crawling on the bed and what he saw made him moan, the older hunter was on his hands and knees moving sinfully until he was in front of his hole, his eyes bright and heated as he observed his prone, vulnerable form on the bed, "You're our little slut aren't you Harry?" He asked accenting the offending word sinfully.

And Harry could do nothing but nod, his hand moving automatically on Sam's prick, "You have to say it sweetheart. Come on say it." Sam coaxed, panting.

"I am your slut." He said slowly and distinctively, not even embarrassed when he knew he was about to get fucked, used by the two larger men.

Dean groaned, closing his eyes and circling his swelling erection with what had to be a painful grip like Harry simply saying the words was too much and Harry in a moment of pure unaltered lust mixed with adrenaline plowed on, "I am yours, your whore, your cockslut, yours to use and yours to fuck, just… yours." He whispered with his accent getting thicker as he spoke staring at the brothers in turn, and he knew how he must have looked: mouth moist and open, legs thrown apart, cock bobbing eagerly in the air, red hard nipples, eyes half-lidded and hair sticking out every which way… He looked the part as they say.

Dean mounted his body letting out a guttural, animal base noise of pleasure, "Fuck Harry, you fuckin' tease…" In a breathless whisper before plundering his mouth, biting it, taking it, possessing it and Harry just let him take as he heard Sam growling at his earlier words hand falling on his hair and gripping it harshly painfully, bending his neck sharply and ripping his mouth away from his brother.

"Suck me." The man practically snarled and Harry just opened his mouth, staring up at him coyly, Sam groaned and put it inside passed his waiting mouth and into the warm cavern, shuddering and moaning deep and low and Harry felt it from his lips and down into his body.

He hummed around the shaft, taking one hand and putting it at the base to steady it, before he begun slurping, licking, drooling all over the hot member filling his mouth as he had asked, as he had wanted, needed for months now.

And Sam started thrusting slowly, grunting, growling and moaning above him, the sounds spurring him on to take in more, more, more, so deep, so warm, lips stretching impossibly wide.

His eyes widened and he gagged around it, "Holy shit Harry." He heard Sam's rough exclamation at the sound, the man's muscled hips doubling their movements until Harry was choking and his eyes watered.

Dean stabbed two lubed up fingers into him, now sliding them in and out at a rapid pace, scissoring them, moving, searching until, there, bloody fucking hell right there… Harry moaned loudly, taking Sam entirely, all the way in and Sam let out a strangled gasp looking down at him in awe before changing his grip on him and thrusting wildly into him.

"Damn you're sucking me in, so fucking tightGod I bet I'll feel real good in there, can't wait to pound into you hard and fast beautiful." Dean declared staring at his hole in amazement. There were suddenly three fingers tearing him open and Harry's noises were barely muffled by Sam's fast drilling of his mouth.

Sam kept pushing in and out forcing it deeper at each thrust, tightening his hold on his head and bending his neck hard and painful but Harry just let him and he had let his hands fall, hands grasping and twisting in the sheets, his knuckles white and searching for something to ground him but, Dean kept taking him higher not letting him a second of reprieve, his fingers, thick and powerful as he pushed them in and out of his abused hole.

Sometimes slowly and letting them drag on his skin, brushing on his prostate teasingly, pulling out and letting him feel while he would close his eyes and drop his legs wider and Dean would chuckle darkly or hard and fast, striking the bundle inside of him head on, his hand almost a blur with the rapid steady pace he used while Harry moaned loudly around the hard shaft in his mouth, his eyes dazed and his body moving to slap back on those fingers violently and Dean would whisper dark filthy things like, that's it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers, you love it, pretty whore… or he would climb back on his body and he would suck, lap, bite and nip at his nipples till Harry could feel them raw and abused.

Harry couldn't take it anymore and he forced his mouth away, his throat used and his voice foreign, crying out, "Just fuck me! Dean please, just do it…" He said on the verge of sobbing.

"There you go: you just had to beg." He said charmingly and Harry tried to glare at him but from Dean's little laugh, it didn't work. Dean placed his by now, thick (thicker but smaller than Sam), hot, sopping head on his thoroughly stretched entrance, "You want it?" He asked dirtily but it was strain betraying his own need but he still didn't put. it. in.

So Harry decided to grind back on it letting his prick catch on the rim, "Yes I want it Dean. I want your cock in me. Now." He said slyly with a smirk.

Dean groaned desperately and rammed home just as Sam took his control back, shoving his dick back into him and Harry screamed, reflexively trying to throw his head back but couldn't.

Dean moaned low in his throat, stopping and Harry could see the muscles in his arms flexing, his eyes shut tight and his bow shaped legs coiling, "Shit." He cursed, "You feel, you feel… fucking awesome." He said with something like horrified wonder in his tone.

"You look good like that Harry." Sam grunted, keeping Harry's head in his pubic hair till his nose was full of the musky scent of just: Sam and air became a far away notion, "Real good."

"Yeah, just made for us, going to take it like a good little bitch huh?… freaking perfect I swear." Dean growled before he pulled all the way back out abruptly with a sloppy, obscene squelching sound and thrust back in with a sharp, powerful move and Harry sobbed on Sam's dick.

Dean found a steady pace, hands clenching on his ass and pulling the flesh wide apart so the wet slapping sounds of his cock and balls ramming down on Harry's flesh were that much clearer. Harry's back bowed sucking his cock even deeper as Dean pushed down harder and faster on each stroke, filling from the inside out, his breathing animalistic literally slamming in, pulling free and battering back in and Harry gripped Sam's muscled thighs, his blunt nails scraping the skin desperately as a string of needy ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, nnng, Sa-, Dea- got passed his lips and around the heated flesh in his mouth.

And it seemed the sting of pain was too much for Sam as his balls pulled up and he gripped Harry's hair like he didn't know if he wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. In the end, Harry felt Sam's length as it jerked, pulsing strings of come directly down his throat before he rip him away finishing and riding his orgasm as he used his wide hand to spurt semen all over his face in an endless stream and Harry could feel it sliding down his neck as Sam moaned, "Harry." staring down at him in near reverence.

Dean chose that moment to double his thrusts, and Harry yelled in surprised elation, "Dean." He sobbed, "Please… please…come in me… please… I need it… need it so badOhhhhhh…" He pleaded staring up with glazed orbs and the man only snarled, biting on his neck none too gently while Sam stabbed his mouth with his tongue in a mockery of Dean's action.

Harry's normally empty space inside blotted out by the wild assault on his senses, the scent of come and lust heavy in the air, the filthy wet sounds of Dean's doubling thrusts on his abused hole, the incoherent moans and gurgled screams, the grunts, groans and base noises Dean was making, Sam's hot breath and dirty, shameful and sometimes tender words in his ear.

It was all too much and as Harry clenched, his inside rippling and taking him in deeper, forcing him in faster and Dean's thrust turned impossibly harder and wild and stuttered, Harry's last scream burst free, his balls tightening at the sensation of Dean's warm semen shooting deep inside of him, the taller man convulsing above him with a look of such pure bliss smoothing his features that Harry's untouched prick shot his own load, his orgasm sizing all his limbs, his back bowing in a painful arch, his mouth opening in a muted yell, he buried his face in the sheets and shook, his eyes closing in sheer raw pleasure, splattering white hot come all over his body until he had Sam's in his mouth and on his face, Dean's deep in him and leaking out between his ass cheeks and down his legs and his own covering his quivering torso.

He slumped eyes closed and mouth twisting in a wide smile; he harrumphed as he felt Dean's heavy body dropping on him, grin widening as he cradled the larger man and he felt Sam's wide hand caressing his scalp in as soothing manner, "Whoa." He said a bit euphoric, he heard Sam's quiet laugh ruffling his hair and Dean's warm chuckles in his ear before the three of them laid there staring up at the ceiling, limbs slack and boneless, coming down from their high with grins on their faces.

"Yeah, holy shit." Dean said laughing happily but with a real stunned, astonished look in his eyes as Harry turned his head sideways to glance at him, "Not bad for a first huh Sammy?" Dean asked teasingly.

"Shut up jerk." Sam bantered back lightly.

"Bitch." He heard Dean reply automatically.

"Gits." Harry added and both of them stared at him in silence before smiling widely at him, he gazed at them confused before deciding he didn't want to think about anything at the moment, spelling the remains of their night away.

"Huh." Dean said at the display of magic.

"Handy." Sam shrugged.

And Harry stopped being nervous about their reactions, feeling his eyelids closing in exhaustion, he felt Dean's arms encircling him, bringing him closer and he snuggled up in his warmth as Sam's torso covered his back, his sleepy breathing on his neck and his biceps cradling him in his embrace, the three pair of legs tangling together under the blanket Dean had pulled up.

Harry sighed in contentment, feeling safe and wanted and just like a bloody human being for the first time in months, years… Yeah, sealing his fate had never felt that good, he thought as sleep took him away.