This is for all those that wanted me to expand on my drabble from yesterday. This was easy. Cutting it down to 100 words was almost impossible. It's unbeta'ed, but I hope you all enjoy. :) *hugs*
D: Of course. *sob*
Dean coasted the Impala to a stop, shifting her into Park as both brothers stared at the mansion before them. Neither hunter was anxious for this hunt; but some bad things had been happening to good people and it needed to stop. They were the best equipped for the job and they didn't run from a hunt. It wasn't the Winchester way.
"You ready?" Dean glanced at his brother.
"Nope. Let's do it."
Both men blew out a breath as they opened the doors in unison.
"Do you think she's awake right now?" Sam took the shotgun his brother was handing him.
"I don't know. We have to be ready in case she is, though." Dean shut the trunk lid and stood next to Sam for a second. Without a word, they began moving toward their objective; Dean slightly ahead of his little brother as usual. Climbing the steps side by side, they communicated with only their eyes. Each nodded as they made their respective moves. Sam opened the door, Dean went in first and low, and Sam came in above him. Both hunters were hyper alert, salt loaded guns pointing around the room.
Finding nothing, both men relaxed marginally as Sam moved off to find the shawl that tied the spirit to this world. Dean walked backwards behind him, covering his brother's back. A breeze began to pick up as the hunters continued in their search. Sam ignored it, knowing that Dean was there and would do his job. Dean's eyes increased their searching around the room, wary of anything that didn't fit. He needed to protect his brother so they could just get the job done and get out of this creepy house.
The gentle breeze became a wind blowing Sam's hair into his face and ruffling Dean's short spikes. The wind picked up and Dean shouted to his brother over the howl.
"Hurry up, Sammy. I think we have company."
Sam didn't answer. He knew it wasn't necessary even as Dean's instruction hadn't been necessary. Where would that shawl be?
The younger hunter moved toward a library table in the far end of the room, seemingly causing the wind to rise even further. He was sure he was on the right track now. He moved his hand toward the drawer in the table and suddenly, there was a shriek that caused him to jump and cover his ears.
Dean, at the same time, felt something grab his arm and throw him at the wall, hard. Stunned by the force of the slam against the wall, Dean was momentarily paralyzed.
"Sam?" His voice sounded strangely weak.
He blinked his eyes several times, trying to clear his vision. Seeing nothing, he was shocked when a hand seemed to glide gently down his cheek to cross his lips.
"Sammy! Help me!"
The invisible hand continued down the side of his neck, ending in a gentle kiss at the base of his ear causing a shiver to run down his spine.
"Who's there? Get the hell off of me. Sam!"
"Shhhhh" The voice, little more than a whisper, dripped with sensuality and desire.
The gentle kiss traveled over and along his jaw, ending on his lips; the kiss deep and lasting.
"No." Dean could barely speak. He knew this was wrong; that this was the spirit they were hunting, but those kisses . . .
Invisible fingers lifted his shirts to caress his skin and Dean gasped. The deep kiss continued as two invisible hands explored his upper torso.
"God, no," Dean whispered around the kiss. Resistance was becoming more difficult as the insistent hands became busier and firmer in their touches. His shirts began to rise and the kisses moved to his rock hard abdomen, causing his whole body to shudder. He tried again to get loose from the hold, but he was firmly stuck to the wall.
All his breath left him as the kisses worked their way upward. It was taking all of the hunter's willpower to resist as he swore he felt a tongue gliding along his skin between the kisses. When the kisses reached his nipples and the tongue flitted back and forth, he felt the hands move to undo the buttons of his fly. He went completely rigid for the barest of moments; then, moaning, he surrendered to the emotion.
He was still completely stuck to the wall, but no longer struggled nor called for his brother. At that particular moment, he didn't even know he had a brother.
Suddenly, the hands no longer caressed, but hurt. The kisses were no longer gentle or deep, but painful bites. The whispers became a screech like nothing the brothers could remember and Dean was suddenly released, falling to the floor in a heap.
Panting and bleary-eyed, he glanced around the room, trying to get his bearings. A huge form from across the room coalesced into the shape of his little brother – his little brother who seemed to be saying something.
Dean struggled to pull himself together as Sam crouched next to him.
"You okay, Dean?" The younger hunter looked at his brother's state of disarray and began a low chuckle. "Did you have a good time? Thanks for keeping the spirit busy while I took care of the shawl."
"Holy crap!" The older man ran a hand across his face and up through his hair. "That was a new one."
Sam snorted. "You didn't seem to mind much." His chuckle was growing stronger as he extended his hand to help his brother up.
Dean batted the hand away as he glanced down at his raised shirts and his open fly. "Give me a couple of minutes, okay?"
Sam's chuckles became a full on laugh at the thought of his randy brother being turned on and practically raped by a ghost. The best part was that just before he struck the match, he'd glanced at Dean who was beginning to relax and enjoy. This would be food for teasing for a very long time and Sam was just the little brother to handle that.
"I'll be out in the car when you get your um – dignity back together and are ready to go." He laughed as he turned to leave the mansion, but he missed the glare that his big brother sent after him.