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Sinful Desire
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2007-07-18
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Mystery Inn

Summary:

The brothers go to investigate a double murder in an old Inn; as they come to the conclusion and catch the bad guy, will more than the identity of the killer be revealed?

Notes:

Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on Sinful Desire collection profile.

Author's notes: Yeah, bad, bad summary, hopefully better story though.

Work Text:


Author's notes: Had a dream, kind of obsessive that I dream of episodes that end with Wincest, but I'm not exactly complaining. I saw every detail, and do you know how amusing it is to see Sam and Dean in the disguises that they had in the beginning? Well, didn't exactly do it justice, but I hope you like it! Thank you for reading!


Fred looked over at his mom, smiling. They were on a road trip, getting away for a while, from his dad, from their old life, and he couldn't be happier.

 

He didn't quite know where they were going, he didn't think his mom did either.

 

Soon they were pulling into a graveled lot, dust flying in swirls around the window.

 

Coughing, he pulled his striped shirt up over his mouth and nose, breathing through the material with a muffled question.

 

"Where are we?"

 

Kelly peered around the sides of the window, looking for a sign of some sort, and got one.

 

Riverside Inn. Est. 1836

 

Answering her sons question with jovialty as she let the car come to a stop, neither noticed the looming shadow enveloping it, nor the subtle burning in the lungs both now had.

 

~~~

 

"Dude, where are we even going?"

 

Sam looked up briefly from where he held the flashlight over various maps to pass it behind him, reading the open journal in the seat.

 

"Riverside Inn, old place. Mother and son, taking a little time off, pull into this place, all that was found were their charred bodies. No one has any idea what happened, or why they appeared to have shrivled up before they were burnt."

 

Dean frowned.

 

"Sure this is even our gig?"

 

"Positive. Says here that dad went there, EMF all over the place, more especially, the abandoned lot out back."

 

"Why would they even go into the back?"

 

"We'll, that's what we're going to find out, probably help us to know and, what’s wrong this time?"

 

"Man, haven't we been there before? I think I remember it."

 

"I don't."

 

"Oh, come on! Aren't you all 'we should be cautious' and 'don't take risks', shouldn't we be sure?"

 

Sam did that thing where it looked like he was looking at a child, a very slow child, with both exasperation and patience.

 

"Well, what do you suggest we do Dean?"

 

X

 

"I so hate you for this."

 

"Oh, come on, this is awesome!"

 

"Man, we're wearing fake mustaches, and they're making my face itch."

 

"All sacrifices of the job, Sammy, now move your ass."

 

Rolling up the window he pushed open the door, scanning the place; they hadn't taken the risk of coming in through the back, weren't sure if they could handle whatever it was if they did.

 

Dean glanced over to his brother, pouting in the car, expression ridiculous with the bushy hair just above his lip, placed at a slightly tilted angle.

 

"Ha!"

 

Oh yeah, he was so good.

 

"What were you thinking of, Dean? We're a little noticeable, even with mustaches I think they'll be able to remember us if we've been here before."

 

"Stop bitching Sammy, this is freaking cool. I mean, haven't you ever seen all those old westerns where the bank robbers had on cowboy hats and moustaches, or if anyone every wanted a disguise, they would always include a mustache?

 

"They're like staples for disguise dude."

 

Some more pouting, but now on a moving body accompanied, back into business.

 

Pushing open the old fashioned wooden door, archway and all, he looked around, seeing a sign that said Concierge.

 

Taking a left in the hallway he tossed a look over his should to see his brother examining the archway and paintings.

 

"Over here geek boy!"

 

Sam huffed, walking over in long strides.

 

"Dean, you know we actually have to work here, we have to look at everything because some pretty weird things have been the cause of attacks."

 

"Name one thing that was apart from our list of the 'normal' paranormal, or not a fake."

 

"Scarecrow ring a bell? And that's not the point, we should consider all possibilities.

 

"Yeah, yeah, let's go."

 

Walking through yet another arch they came in front of a desk where a man was reading the newspaper.

 

Upon their entering, he looked up, smiling with yellow teeth bordered by frazzled red hair as he welcomed them and asked for how long they were staying.

 

Meeting eyes they seemed to battle thoughts until Dean won out.

 

"One week."

 

Nodding his head, the man rose, grabbing their key from a plate in the back and turning to give directions.

 

As they left, he said the usual spiel of 'Have a nice day and thank you for coming.' With an added,

 

"By the way, sirs. I see you are too a concierge of the mustache; I must say, yours are rather more handsome then mine."

 

Dean looked at Sam's exasperated and caught off guard face with an arrogant, pleased tilt of his lips and eyes.

 

"Why thank you."

 

Now walking in a more determined swagger, he went up the stairs, Sam trailing.

 

He liked it here so far.

 

~~~

 

"Okay, so, Kelly and Fred Clark, ages thirty- nine and fourteen, both here taking a road trip, were found by a Harold Smith an estimated three hours after they were killed.

 

"There's no other history of deaths in this place, so whatever's happening is a new deal."

 

Sam squinted at his father's notes, reading the familiar handwriting.

 

"However, there was one incident in the early nineteen hundreds where a visiting man fell off the roofs for a master illusion, says here he was one of those old fashion magicians."

 

"Dad came here about ten years ago, let's see if the place is still high in the EMF levels."

 

When he took his eyes from his notes he saw Dean reclined on the twin bed, arms behind his head, looking at him.

 

"What?"

 

Shaking his head as if a dog shaking water from his coat, he rolled over, coming to his feet even as he reached over to grab his coat.

 

"Let's go when there's still some light."

 

X

 

"Whoa."

 

The back lot to the Inn was strange, about ten to fifteen feet in, it was paved from the roads edge, but suddenly, there was about an inch of some kind of dust leading up to the motel.

 

When they turned on the EMF reading, it was off the charts.

 

"Well, I guess dad wasn't exaggerating."

 

"No kidding, what the hell is this stuff?"

 

Crouching down, Sam dragged a finger through the dust, bringing it up to his nose.

 

"This smells weird, man, I can't quite place it."

 

Without a word, Dean reached over, grabbing his wrist and bringing it to his face.

 

Sam hid his jolt of surprise at the action and let his hand and more so his index finger be examined this way and that.

 

"It's kinda like, shit, remember what the old guy gave us back a while ago, the hoodoo stuff? This smells like it."

 

Sam frowned, wrenching his own hand back.

 

"What, do you think its hoodoo related?"

 

"Maybe."

 

Sam suddenly tensed, acute senses picking up something.

 

"Man, do you feel that?"

 

Then suddenly, darkness overcame.

 

~~~

 

Dean came to, stretching to find his arms tied up around his head to some sort of pole.

 

Panicking he searched the stretch of black for his brother.

 

"Sam, Sammy!"

 

A groan came to his right; a grumpy 'What!' and he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

A light switched on and he saw that they were in a basement, Sam was tied up as well, neither was harmed, though his head throbbed.

 

Looking to their captor he shook his head.

 

There stood the concierge in all his glory, rumpled suit fitted with tassels and hair gleaming in the light.

 

"So I see you two don't truly have mustaches, shame, I most revered them."

 

"Dude, you got us tied up in your basement and all you can think of to say is you miss our facial hair?"

 

He, Harold Dean assumed, grimaced.

 

"My apologies, I have never done this before, well, alive anyways. Forgive me is it's a tad bit awkward."

 

Sam being who he was had to ask.

 

"Why are you doing this?"

 

And that was when a smile came to the mans face.

 

"Well you see, I am much older than I appear. Many, many years ago I was but a foolish man with a few tricks up my sleeve, until I attempted something much beyond my abilities.

 

"As I was in, Limbo, I guess you could say, I saw what ordinary humans can't, the life force in all, so I simply took it for my own.

 

"I retained my own body, changing it over the years of course, and have been taking energy from the environment. But lately, that has not been enough; the aging process had begun to advance, leaving me in the dust.

 

"So I concocted one of the little things that was a truth in my career, a type of luring powder that leaves one disoriented and if inhaled in large amounts, burned. A true magic. You have to understand, if I did not take that life force, it would have simply gone wasted, and I needed to survive.

 

"You too shall aid my quest of life, and I thank you dearly for that."

 

And he didn't need say another word, because Sam had already worked his way out of the flimsy, worn ropes and had shotgun in hand.

 

Without a thought he shot the man, who, due to not actually being a spirit or ghost, only flew back a couple feet.

 

Sam ran forward and knocked the guy out, gun making a hollow clang against temple.

 

Dean threw his body back and forth, trying to get out of the ropes when Sam walking to him, stopping his struggles and grasping his wrists in a warm grip.

 

"Stop that before you hurt yourself."

 

And Dean listened, going limp as his brother freed him, breathing in the scent of him.

 

~~~

 

Hours later they were back in the room, packing up when Dean stretched, restless.

 

"What?"

 

Dean glanced over, frowned, and looked back down to his duffle.

 

"Man, there's always a chick when we save the day and all. I can get it on with her and we can leave, and I'm fine. But there's no girl, and no people anywhere for hundreds of miles around, freaking no mans land."

 

Sam smiled, amused.

 

"You're uncomfortable because you're horny?"

 

Dean glared, saying the obvious 'Yeah.' With his eyes.

 

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it?"

 

And that was when he knew he had said something he shouldn't have because Dean got a gleam in his eyes and a purpose in his step as he walked closer.

 

"I can think of something you could do."

 

Pressing close he somehow enveloped Sam's larger body.

 

Panic flooded through him, accompanied by lust, which only increased said panic.

 

"Dean, what are you doing."

 

"What does it look like I'm doing, come on, please, I'm dieing here."

 

Sam looked around the room, as if expecting an answer to come from the walls, but his gaze was drawn back to his brother.

 

Eyes darkened in desire, pupils blown and face flushed, Dean looked like a porn star, thought only emphasized by the fact that his lips were bitten near bloody, cherry red and plump.

 

This was so not helping him.

 

Sighing, he closed his eyes, images of Jess and their father flashing through his mind. But when he opened them once more, there was Dean, looking at his with an adoring and pleading gaze.

 

Resigned, he pushed his brother away to get leverage to pull him onto the bed, back to Sam's chest.

 

Taking initiative, he brought his lips to Deans, tongues entwining and noses meeting for brief seconds.

 

Sam could feel Dean's eyelashes brush his face as he struggled to keep them open but unable to.

 

Soon, Sam's hand was sneaking down his chest, going to the belt buckle and undoing it, pushing Dean's pants and boxers past his knees with one long arm.

 

With no foreplay and only the thought of getting Dean off in mind, he wrapped his hand around the thick cock in his grasp, long fingers massaging as they went up and down the shaft.

 

Dean was quickly swearing, bucking into his fist and placing open mouth kisses on his neck, getting Sam off as well.

 

He could feel his own arousal begin to rise and began to thrust shallowly into the dip of Dean's sweaty back, tightening his hand as Dean came with a strangled moan.

 

Sam soon followed and in minutes, they were wrapped around each other.

 

He could feel his brother watching with a heated gaze as he brought his come-covered hand to his lips, hearing a slight growl as he licked it clean.

 

When he pulled away, preparing to clean up, dash the thing away as a one time thing, when Dean reached up, pulling in down into an awkward and equally passionate kiss.

 

"Please, Sammy. Just, don't leave."

 

He nodded, breathing deep with the knowledge that they would discuss this later.

 

But for now, they would rest.

 

~~~

 

As they pulled away from the Inn, police call made and body burned, Dean looked over at Sam and smiled as he got a weak one in return.

 

Bringing up his hand, he let the backs of his knuckles brush the tan cheek, watching the contrast of his paler skin against honey brown.

 

Sam's smile brightened, and Dean could see his thoughts turn away from the turmoil, if only for a moment.

 

And he knew then that they would be okay.