strangetrip | [GP] Shoot that poison arrow

[GP] Shoot that poison arrow

None of the guests noticed when the spiky-haired man-child in jeans and purple t-shirt, wrists wrapped in cheap leather and metal bracelets, arrived at the Madonna Inn a few hours before midnight on February 13. That, in itself, wasn't all that surprising. Eros, otherwise known as Danny Valentine, had millennia of experience doing his job without being spotted.

What was surprising was that the dude at the front desk did see him. Tall and Nondescript waved him over and then gave him a room number 'in case you wanted to rest'. But Danny didn't.

Want to, or rest. He spent the time before the clock struck midnight polishing his love gun. Not like that. He'd find a girl to spend his nameday with. He always did. No, this little beauty was made by Hephaestus himself. It shot love darts that disappeared on contact.

At midnight, kitted out with more love darts than there were people in this pink and gold monstrosity, Danny left his room and shot the first person he saw--and didn't wait to see what would happen.

No point getting a slow start. He had a lot of work to do.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Since the first hearts appeared and definitely since the first unlikely couple he'd run across, Sam had been avoiding Dean, Henry, Snow, River and Sansa--the people he would rather rip out his own tongue than plant an unwanted kiss on. Or even a wanted kiss.

Add mysterious desire surges to 'I hate parties' and he was one miserable Winchester. So he was doing what miserable Winchesters were best at: brooding while trying to track down the source. Which, inevitably and unfortunately, meant that wherever the latest kissing spree was, Sam arrived shortly after.

Sometimes not after enough. Like now. He suppressed a groan at the glazed look he was being given. Here we go again.

After a couple of incidents, Lindsey had to admit the stables weren't as aphrodisiac free as he would like, and he had given blood today. He'd go in and out quickly, hit up the kitchen for something he could take back to his room. Avoid people as much as possible. As plans went, it sucked, but it was what he had right then.

Hearing muffled moans up ahead, he slipped through the nearest door, a shiver running down his spine as he closed the door behind him. A close call, that was all. Looking up, he found himself in the gift shop, and more importantly, not alone. How had he not noticed how broad Sam's shoulders were before? Lindsey was generally more observant than that.

He noticed now, though.

Sam looked up to see who'd shut the door to the gift shop (which Sam had ducked into to give himself a breather) and saw MacDonald. "Hey," he said and nodded at the guy, but something about the look in his eyes made Sam wonder whether it might not have been better to pretend he hadn't seen him.

Too late now. So Sam forced his shoulders down and tried to think of something useful to say. All that was coming to mind was pitchfork mobs and the rolls of chapstick on the shelf behind him.

"Hey." Only the one word, but in a voice that had taken on the smooth smoky burn it got when Lindsey sang, like his favorite scotch. He crossed the room like he went after most things he wanted, not quickly, but with purpose and unwavering focus, his blue eyes going slate dark as the pupils widened to take in more light.

Oh hell. Sam knew that look. He hadn't see it on many men, and he'd responded to it from even fewer. He could count the number of guys he'd been with on less than one hand, and somehow he didn't think getting with Lindsey MacDonald would be anything like those few experiences. He wasn't really sure he'd want to, even if that were an option.

His brain spun a dozen miles a minute, because he'd already figured out how this all went, and trying to avoid it would only make Lindsey pursue him. If this would be the only incident like this today, or even if there'd been only two, he'd probably have run with it, but he was going on more maulings than he cared to count and... oh hell. "You need something?"

"Need's a strong word." A more accurate word than Lindsey wanted to admit, but it was need driving him forward, and there was something about that he should remember, but how could he, when Winchester was right there, all the power of a stallion, but looking ready to buck or bolt.

Lindsey didn't want him to bolt.

Hands that wanted to reach for Winchester and pull him down for a bruising kiss, relaxed instead, held out slightly from his sides, palms open, and Lindsey stopped with a half step more space between them than felt comfortable. Not a threat. Patient – to a point. "Didn't expect to find you in here's all."

"Yeah." Because that much was probably true, but Sam had seen that patient hands-out pose on himself and Dean when trying to talk down someone scared or dangerous too many times for him to take it as coincidence. A warning, or an awareness at least, registered in his brain that if MacDonald had this much control and patience driven by some kind of magic, Sam ought to be paying more attention to him.

He had two choices, so far as he could see them. Pretend this wasn't happening, then run like hell until the magic wore out. Not appealing, and cowardly, or play it straight with him. Straightforward had the possibility of fewer misunderstandings, not to mention a quicker exit from this awkward. So he relaxed his jaw and his shoulders, best he could, and said, "Ten to one, you suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to kiss me. As far as I know, there's no way to break that compulsion without doing it. We could spend a couple of miserable hours trying to figure out a way around it, or we can kiss and--" His lips quirked just a little at the suggestion his inner-smartass that sounded like Dean supplied and he went with it. "Break up. Your call."

If Winchester believed either one of them would want to stop after a single kiss, well, he'd change his mind quick enough, Lindsey was sure. But he wasn't wrong about the overwhelming urge, and leaving it to Lindsey was as good as an invitation. Growling a, "Deal," Lindsey advanced, crowding Sam into the shelf behind him, hand in his hair to pull the tall ass fucker into a hungry, forceful kiss that felt so necessary it made Lindsey think he almost understood what that first gush of blood felt like to a vampire.

It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did that the guy kissed him like he wanted him and not like he had to break a spell. It didn't surprise him at all that after an entire day of this, Sam was horny, frustrated and seriously aggro--which resulted in him growling into that kiss, biting and spinning to slam the cowboy into the shelves. If nothing else, it was a relief not to have to restrain himself.

Winchester wasn't the only one horny and frustrated, and whatever lust magic was floating around might've been satisfied by him meeting the kiss so aggressively and slamming Lindsey into the wall, but he'd be hard-pressed to notice, since the last thing Lindsey felt like doing was backing off. Clear-headed enough now the magic had faded, Lindsey's grip tightened around Sam's bicep, but not enough to raise questions, or to bruise... yet, and he matched Sam kiss, hunger to hunger, force to force.

If Sam knew him a little better, or liked him a little more, it might've gone differently, but after the day he'd had, making out with a near stranger, no matter how hot it was, just wasn't that appealing. Still, he didn't try to break free right away. Didn't want MacDonald to think he was uncomfortable kissing another guy or him specifically. Instead gave as good as he got until the initial heat of it passed.

Then he put his hand to MacDonald's upper chest and pushed back. "Not that this isn't hot, man, but I'm not doing this today."

Lindsey let him move back, running a hand through his hair, but not seeming upset by the rebuff or having fallen victim to the magic roofies. "Hell, I've given that same speech today. Not gonna get pissed somebody turned it around on me this time."

"Cool." Relief did roll over Sam that there would be no animosity or repercussions, but he added, "Not the first time I've given this speech either." Which was part of why he was giving it. His brain was six kinds of tangled over the magic roofies, the kissing, and the people doing it, and he couldn't tell which way was up with his own feelings. He could do casual, but not like this.

"Think I'm gonna grab some chapstick and juice and get out of here."

Re: Sam - for Angua, Lydia and Lindsey

st_ableandbar - 2017-03-08 21:16 (UTC) - Expand

Quite probably Angua should have locked herself in her room after the incident with Vax, but she did still want to investigate. She'd nearly Changed to face everything in wolf shape, but the horrible thought had occurred (horribly) that she had no idea whether whatever was affecting people would be fooled by that. It was possible that she could be compelled to either literally pounce on people when she had fangs, claws, and not enough sense to be careful... or Change back, and pounce as a naked woman.

Neither prospect was appealing.

What was suddenly appealing, in what a buried part of her mind recognized as a familiar way, was a very tall man she came upon after rounding a corner. Her own age, she thought, but he had a scent that went right into the parts of her that were always more or less wolf and brought up amazingly enticing visions of being pinned to a wall.

He'd seen her around, thought he'd heard her name was Angua, but that was all he knew about her--except that she was pretty and hadn't been bothered by the magic.

By this point in the day, he knew there wasn't much point in resisting. She'd be miserable until she satisfied whatever magic was compelling her, and if he needed a cold shower later or some other kind of relief, he was sure he wouldn't be the only one. So he didn't run, or really try to stop her. The sooner it happened, the sooner she'd done whatever she wanted to do, the sooner they'd both be back to normal.

"Angua?"

"Hmm?" He knew her name, that was something. Was that something? Actually, she didn't care. It was faintly irritating that males in this place didn't seem to know how things were supposed to go, but maybe she could hint....

Unlike her aggression with Vax earlier, with this male she swayed over to press herself against him and stretch up slightly, eyes on his face, entire presence inviting. She could pull him and take, yes, but what she really, really wanted was to be taken.

Jesus. Arousal surged, fast and fierce, and for a few seconds Sam thought he'd been hit with whatever was going around. But no, he didn't feel like he had to act on it. He just wanted to. It'd been a long damn day already, and she was offering him something his body needed.

But she'd been hit, and he couldn't take advantage of that.

Still, she needed him to kiss her to break the hold of the compulsion. So he put a hand to her lower back and turned her to put her against the wall where he could protect her from prying eyes in case she'd be embarrassed later, and then leaned down to kiss her, careful not to unleash too much of his pent up desire.

Yes! He'd only needed a hint, an invitation, and here she was with her back to the wall if not quite pinned there. Scent didn't lie, and she wanted....

Angua couldn't help an encouraging little moan as she used the leverage of the wall and a leg hooked around his hip to hoist her up just high enough that her tall beautiful man didn't have to bend to keep kissing her.

If the compulsion had broke, she was showing no signs of it, and Sam's brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders. He lifted her easily and wrapped her legs around his hips, then buried a hand in her hair to haul her mouth to his. Some part of his brain knew this wasn't a good idea, but he'd been kissed on and off for hours. He needed this.

The compulsion was broken, had been almost the instant he'd put her back to the wall. But this man felt and smelled so close to right, and that was enough to make her want even without something compelling her.

Sooner rather than later, though, 'close' wasn't quite close enough. The hand buried into her hair didn't curl into a fist. Her back was to a wall and her legs wrapped around a man's waist, but she was being pulled towards him instead of pushed back harder. The details felt wrong, and it stabbed her with guilt, more viciously than with Vax.

It wasn't the man's fault. If it hadn't been for that awful feeling of betrayal, she'd have been happy to stay right where she was or find some more private area. As it was, she shifted to unwrap her legs and flatten her hand on his shoulder in a gentle almost-push.

As soon as she pushed back, Sam let her go, stepped away. He pushed his hand through his bangs and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I should've stopped you." God, he felt like a heel. Like the worst kind of frat-boy douche. "I'm really sorry."

He didn't know what else to say. Or what to do. So he just stood there. If she wanted to punch him or something, he would totally let her.

"Don't be." It really wasn't his fault, so she flashed him a smile. "The thing didn't last past you putting my back to the wall. The rest was me, and if it hadn't been for... things... I'd've been more than happy to have you."

It was truer than it had been while the compulsion had been driving her. The compulsion wanted anyone in range, but she wanted him enough to feel guilty, still, and step away very slightly. Being too far away to touch easily would have to help.

Happy to have you. Sam felt his cheeks warm at the blatant phrasing. Having sex aggressively was one thing, talking about it... he was never going to be good at that. "Okay, good. I mean... good that I didn't cross any lines or anything. I didn't mean to take advantage."

He probably should say something about the other thing, but what? "Um. Yeah, if you'd wanted to, I would have, too." Wow, could this be more awkward?

Oh, gods, and didn't that just remind her of Carrot! The sort of shuffling awkwardness that led an otherwise capable and powerful man into stammering and trying to gift-wrap cities. "Maybe someday, then. If I get past things."

"Maybe." Hadn't he said the same to Steph this morning? God, he was turning into Dean. He smiled sort of sheepishly. "But, maybe we could talk first next time." If there was a next time. There could be. She knew where to find him.