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Smoke Gets in Your eyes

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Sam Winchester was distantly familiar with the infamous Pagans gang in Lawrence, Kansas. Sam had known about them more in high school. All the guys wanted to be greasers, just like the leather clad men that did what they wanted, regardless of any law. Dean even took up some of their bad habits; like smoking, slathering attention on his car, and dressing in leather and tight clothes. It was sort of funny when Dean did it; because his hair was far too short to be slicked back into a pompadour and he was always trying to hide cigarette smoke from their parents. John Winchester did not like the gang activity. “They're sinners; paving the road to Hell for everyone who casts them looks of admiration,” John would often say. Dean got the lectures more often, but Sam kept his nose out of that kind of lifestyle.


Sam enjoyed his studies in pre-law at the local college, but the summer was a wonderful break from the mind numbing memorizations. He enjoyed his comfortable checkered shirts and sweaters and living at home. He kept to himself and dated nice girls. He abided by the laws of his church and his father. So his life should have been simple.


That changed when he was visiting his brother's job. Dean was an auto mechanic for their family friend Bobby Singer. Sam stepped outside after talking to his brother for too long in the garage fumes. How Dean could stand the stench of oil and gas for hours on end was beyond his understanding. He leaned his back against the warm brick wall. The shop had a nice shady overhanging that provided relief from the sun. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to clear from the stress of home, books he needed to read for a course he'd be taking next semester, volunteer work at church, and the need to do everything perfectly.


Sam heard the screen door open and then shut with a slap. Sam looked over, mostly because business was slow that day. The man, like many, was shorter than Sam. Sam noted the pompadour styled hair and leather first. He assumed that he was another Pagans knock off from high school days. First glance didn't deem him very intimidating. His hair was dirty blond and side burns framed his face. Though, when the man returned his gaze, Sam caught the stern golden gaze that wasn't like the jerks at school. Sam looked away, hoping the stranger didn't catch him looking for too long. His face warmed and his insides sank uncomfortably. He didn't need tough guys thinking he was looking at men for too long.


The man gave an amused smile and rested his back to the same wall as Sam. Sam pulled himself tighter against the wall; trying to ignore his presence. The man looked older than him, but he was still obviously a hoodlum and Sam was not one. Sam was a good man. A God fearing man who knew to ignore bad things and follow the rules. He could ignore temptation, like his preacher said to.


Sam felt hot leather brush his arm as the man dug into his pocket and pulled out a carton of what looked like cigarettes. Sam's knees locked. He tried to ignore the man as the brown papered cigarette was placed between his lips. Sam had been there first, so he wasn't going to be made uncomfortable by someone's closeness and move for them. He pleaded silently for the man to go smoke somewhere else. He didn't like the tingling his body did as the leather brushed him a couple more times. This time in search of something else.


“Got a light?” The man asked easily and Sam jumped with being addressed. He didn't smoke, but he had picked up one of Dean's lighters in the garage; in an attempt to passively get back at him for his cocky attitude. Was it polite to give someone a light if they needed it? Even if it was a bad habit? Sam pulled out the Bic and offered it to the man. The cigarette was only moved over the offered lighter and Sam lit it for him at the silent command. The tip was roasted until the man could puff out thick white smoke. A long stream was blown into the light breeze, disappearing when it reached the end of their shade. Sam had never smelled smoke that was sweet and woody before. He didn't gag like he did with Dean's cheap stash. It reminded him of an old man's seasoned pipe. “Thanks, Kiddo.” The man gave him a charming wink, which caused Sam to feel his heart thud against his ribs and his face grew warm as he shoved the lighter back in his pocket.


“I... It's not mine or anything,” Sam defended.


“Nah, you don't look the type,” the man said. There was a pause, where he amazed Sam with a ring of smoke that rolled by Sam's face; it dissipated, like a bubble popping. “You're fine,” the man observed. Sam thought he'd imagined the words. Maybe because the rhythm of his heart was in his ears.


“Excuse me?” Sam asked.


The man gave him a flirtatious smile. “You're a looker. I think you should let me take you for a ride sometime.” Sam was speechless. This man was shameless. Sam was sure it was a cruel joke. Men didn't just flirt with other men. Just the thought of it was a sin, wasn't it? It was a cruel trick, one that could get him beaten by a gang of punks.


“I...” Sam struggled to get out his words. “I'm not like that. No.”


“Mm, shame,” he tsked, actually looking disappointed. He sucked on his cigarette once more and blew a steady stream of fog that dusted Sam's chest, waist, and thighs. Sam shivered, as though ghost hands caressed him. It should not have been arousing. “If you change your mind, give me a holler.” Sam received a wink and the smirk was ingrained into his memory as the man walked over to one of the Harlies in the lot. The stranger revved the engine more than what was necessary and Sam watched him leave with a cool smile.


The growl of the bike grew quieter as the man disappeared down the road. Sam was very still against the solid brick, but his body was alive inside. His skin tingled where the smoke and leather had touched, vibrating at the speed of an engine. Inside, he felt startlingly hot. Had the man been serious? Making passes at another man in broad day light. Making passes at another man period.


Sam went inside; his head felt far too clear now. Dean was at the counter; the rest of the shop was empty. Dean looked ready to sing.


“Sammy, guess who just came looking for parts,” he asked.


“Who?” Sam asked automatically; his mind was still afloat in the air somewhere.


“Loki Norse.” Dean's grin spoke volumes. “One of the Pagans gang.”


“Pagan.” Sam's voice squeaked, mind flashing to the man with the devil's smile. Dean seemed too pleased to mention his embarrassing pitch Sam's voice reached.


“Yeah, man. That dog has some serious style. And one seriously gorgeous set of wheels. Pure Harley-Davidson...” Dean wen on about the specs of the bike but Sam was having a hard time digesting everything that just happened with Loki Norse. A real Pagan had been flirting with him. And the worst part was that he thought he'd liked it.




Sam visited his family's church after he was done visiting with his brother. The man with the perpetual smile haunted his mind. The smile and the golden eyes whispered of some sort of promise of pleasure. The kind of pleasure that was absolutely forbidden by God.


Sam felt a cleansing as he entered the old building. It was like a second home to him. Church eased him from his life and always would reset him. He knew what to do there, it was solid ground. He'd gone there in his own time; most of all in high school. Father Michael always reminded him of the sin those thoughts were and cleansed him. In high school, he's been confused about love and his sexuality. The difference between love for a man and love for a woman. To Sam, they felt the same. He'd been corrected in time and shown that a man was not to love a man in the same way. Sam still struggled with it sometimes; like now.


Father Michael reminded Sam a lot of his father. If he simply obeyed then he'd be forgiven for any trespasses he'd made against anyone. He wanted to make them both happy. He wasn't sure why sinful thoughts of men had to invade his mind. The devil himself plagued him worst of all in his sleep.


Sam entered the confession box and knelt. The door opened and Sam made the sign of the cross before speaking, “Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession. I accuse myself of thoughts of sexual immorality as a man shamelessly invited me to sin.” Sam heard Father Michael's voice pray for him and Sam held his breath. No matter how many times he confessed, there was always a fear that his sins would be far too great to be forgiven.


“Do not fear, my son, for this is a venial sin. The Lord forgives you for confessing the truth. Resisting temptation of sin makes you strong in the eyes of God,” Father Michael replied finally. Sam let out a cautious sigh of relief. “However, if you were to act upon those immoral thoughts, it would be a grave mortal sin. If you encounter him again, you should warn him of his sins against God.”


Sam swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Father.”


“God bless you.”


“Thank you, Father.”


Sam left and for a few moments, he felt redeemed. Though as he was walking home, he heard the growl of an engine down the road and his mind again turned to Loki Norse's sinful smile. Sam grimaced and hoped to never see that man again.




For two weeks, Loki Norse was still on his mind. Sam thought it was ridiculous. He'd met the man once and he'd rudely stained him with smoke smell that Sam still had on his sweater vest. He couldn't decide if it was sinful to not have his mother wash it. Sometimes when his father was keen on drinking until he was yelling, Sam found it's scent comforting when going to sleep. It started to dissipate from the fabric after the second week; which shouldn't have been as saddening as it was.


Dean dropped him off at the library and Dean gave him a dirty look for smudging the 1936 Chevy Coupe's window with fingerprints. Sam didn't feel too bad because he was the one that would be lying to their father about Dean being at the library with him on his day off. Instead, Dean was going on a date with the deviant Rhonda Hurley.


Sam took a break for a late lunch, but hanging outside his usual food joint was a bunch of leather jackets. Each was branded with a classic Mjolnir hammer, framed by lightning. The Pagans. Sam stopped and his eyes searched the group, landing on Loki, who was chatting with three taller men. Sam ducked into the small alley between the diner and the bank. He leaned against the brick and let out a slow breath, clutching a couple of the books he checked out at the library. His heart was thudding fast. He closed his eyes and told himself to calm down. They couldn't be there that long. They were either going to go away or go in and eat. Sam made fast plans to go to the market for some peace. He could meet Dean at the diner for their appointed time later.


“Hey, Kiddo.”


Sam's body went rigid and his eyes opened. Loki stood there, leaning his elbow on the wall. He was giving that amused smile again. But it wasn't just Loki. The three other men with him were watching from him behind.


“What are you trying to hide from, big guy?” Loki asked.


“Nothing.” Sam felt his throat was dry.


“This guy a problem, Loki?” A man that nearly reached Sam's height asked with a thunderous voice and a mane of red hair.


“Nah, just trying to make new friends, Thor.” Loki gave them a disarming smile. “You guys grab some grub, I'll be in later.” The men gave shrugs and walked back to the diner entrance while Loki turned his focus back on Sam. “I didn't think I'd bump into you again, cutie-pie.” Sam hugged his books tighter and took a deep breath. Trying to ground himself, be a man; as his brother and father were always telling him.


“Stop, I'm not a girl,” Sam said, with what he thought had righteous knowledge behind it. “What you're suggesting is a sin in the eyes of God. You'll go to Hell for thinking those things.” Loki stared at him and then a loud laugh erupted from him, startling Sam.


“Oh, oh, you are priceless,” Loki chortled and Sam's face burned with embarrassment and a wave of anger. Loki gathered himself, only to mock Sam's words. “'God will punish me for my wicked ways. Oh my, what will I do~'.” Sam got the sense that he'd been had. Of COURSE it was just a joke the whole time. Loki was a Pagan, his whole purpose was to be unpleasant and disrupt everyone's clean fun.


“Your jokes are nothing but cruel and, and, trying to confuse me for nothing other than your own amusement.” Sam stood and tried to step around Loki. His path was blocked by Loki's other arm and the mirthful laugh mellowed.


“You don't think I'm serious?” Loki asked. Sam swallowed, heart pulsing in his throat. Loki stepped closer to Sam, his hand resting on Sam's waist, nudging him back; further into the alley way. Sam was a little startled, and before he knew what Loki was up to, he was sitting on a pile of old pallets that had been long forgotten. Loki leaned over him, brows lifting challengingly. “Do you want me to show you, how serious I am?” Sam squirmed uncomfortably because Loki leaned in so close. He could smell the fragrant smoke and hot leather. Sam's mouth became too wet. He swallowed and wet his lips before he could stop himself. Loki's dark gold eyes watched him like a predator and their lips were so close it made his head spin. “I never did catch your name,” Loki whispered.


“...Sam.” His voice didn't go higher than Loki's. Sam took in a sharp breath as Loki's hand grazed his, but they only did so to loosen the books from his fingers and toss them aside. “Those are from the library.”


“Good thing it's not raining then.” Loki cupped the back of his neck and Sam leaned back, keeping his hands close to his chest. Loki's hand slid down Sam's chest and Sam held his breath. His skin was tingling again, where ever Loki's breath or flesh touched. His body was alive again, saying 'YES' while his mind said 'no'. “You're tense, Sam. I think you want me.” Sam should have said he did not want him. He should have said that it was wrong and he wanted nothing to do with him. But Loki rested his knee between his thighs on the pallets and Sam could only let out a stupid squeak.


Loki took the squeak as an invitation and their mouths finally connected. A small dam broke in Sam somewhere; probably in his mind. He took Loki's face in his hands and crushed their mouths together. Loki pressed closer and a thrill ran down his spine. Loki made him feel drunk with just his mouth, pressing Sam against the wooden boards in a heated moment. Hands dug into Sam's hair and Loki sucked every bit of common sense from his head, letting it filter out like smoke between them.


Loki pulled back too fast for Sam's liking. His lips were tingling and his lungs were vying for air. Loki laughed, a wide smile on his face. “I like you. You have wildfire,” Loki took his chin, making sure their eyes met. “If you liked it, you should come by the old Novak barn. I'll show you a real good time.” Sam's chest swelled, a growing excitement and nervousness. Then he felt ice cold horror shoot up his spine as he sat up. He covered his mouth, realizing what he had just done. Loki scoffed and pulled Sam's hand away, leaning close again. Loki was so warm and solid. “Come tonight and I'll show you the real meaning of rapture.” Loki stepped back and with a few strides, he was out of the alleyway, the lingering smile permanently etched onto his face.


Same stared at the mouth of the alley for the longest moment before he laid back down and looked at the sky. Wildfire may have been a good word for what he was feeling. He was out of control, being eaten up from the inside-out. Though maybe it should have been hellfire, because he was certain it was the devil whispering for him to go and experience rapture.




Dean was late picking him up, and then he was annoyed at Sam for wanting to visit church. It was the first time Sam had a problem going to the confession box. He sat in a pew for a while, trying to wrap his mind around what he'd say. 'Father, I kissed a man today and I liked it very much'. 'I experienced an immoral, and very sexual, kiss with a man today'. 'I have gravely sinned and I beg to be forgiven'. 'I'm thinking of seeing him tonight'. 'He tasted of smoke and freedom'.


Sam rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't quite make himself go to the confession box, so he silently asked the lord for forgiveness and walked back to where Dean was waiting for him. Dean smelled like cheap cigarettes as he leaned against the Coupe; looking permanently agitated for being Sam's ride everywhere.


“I need to you take me to the old Novak farm,” Sam told him. Dean raised an eyebrow at him.


“What's wrong with the new farm?” Dean asked.


“Do you want dad to know you were with Ronda Hurly? Smoking again?” Sam frowned at his brother and Dean thought for a moment, weighing his options. Dean's other brow raised.


“You meetin' a girl?” Dean asked curiously but Sam ignored him, getting into the car.


“Dad, Dean's been getting with those sinners down the street instead of spending time with me.” Sam said, using a whiny tone to make sure his brother heard him. Dean wrinkled his nose and mimicked Sam's words. Dean got into the driver's seat and started the engine.


“Bitch,” Dean said.


“Jerk,” Sam said. They knew when the other had something they didn't want dad to know. Dean didn't pry.


The old Novak farm was as vast as he remembered, but empty since the family moved closer to town to better and bigger land. The field was dark and empty. Dean leaned his arm and head out the window. The sun would set in less than an hour and Dean gave Sam a cautious look.


“Do you want me to stay?” Dean asked. Sam felt the lack of light or sound was eerie, but he shook his head.


“No, just tell dad and mom I'm staying with Castiel, he'll cover for me.” Sam shut the car door after him.


“Right, Cas...” Dean shrugged and Sam stood there until Dean went home. After that he made the long trek over the dry earth to the barn. He looked at the house, which had the curtains drawn and he swore he heard a far off noise; like Rock n' Roll music. He stopped at the open barn door, seeing no one. He wrapped his arms around himself, wondering if he should go to the house. He wondered again if it was a trick. Something that would get him hurt; or killed.


Sam turned around to look in the barn when he heard a warning, “Look out below~” Sam jumped back and Loki's boots landed in the dirt, clutching a rope that was secured to the loft pulley. Loki chuckled as Sam clutched his heart.


“Don't SCARE me like that,” Sam hissed, worried that the people squatting in the house would hear them.


“Sorry, should have said 'surprise'.” Loki gave him a grin. “Mm, you look just as good as earlier.” He opened his arms. “Give me some sugar.” Sam stiffened and glanced at the house, then back to Loki.


“Look, I don't want anyone to know.” Sam pursed his lips. Loki could tell the whole town of what he wanted to do. Of what he'd done. Loki shrugged and gestured like a proper host into the run down barn.


“Welcome to my humble abode then.” Loki walked inside and the scent of old straw and horses was deep set into the ground floor. They climbed up a ladder, which was warmed by lantern light, dry hay, and smelled of Loki's smoke. Loki turned down the lantern light and gave him a smile. “Took you forever to get here.”


“I had a lot of thinking to do.” Sam sat on a patch of soft hay, willing his nerves to settle. Loki flipped on a radio that was settled on a hay bale. He tuned it to a Rock n' Roll station, the voice of Gene Vincent singing to Baby Blue hummed through the loft before Loki moved over to Sam.


“You look like the kinda guy that thinks too much,” Loki knelt in front of him, brow lifted. “Now, how about that sugar?” Sam wet his lips before Loki leaned in, sealing their mouths together. Sam relaxed into the hay, heat running through him as Loki slid over him. Sam had heard Rock n Roll sometimes in Dean's car when it was just them, but when ever he was home it was classical and church approved hymns. There was something scandalous about hearing a man blatantly singing about a woman he was enamored with.


Loki's mouth was warm against his. Sam's fingers curled into Loki's nape, feeling the stiffened hair from product. Hands were far past personal space on Sam's body. They squeezed his hips and dragged over his chest. Loki's knees invited themselves between Sam's thighs. Sam groaned into the kiss, feeling a build up of heat between their groins that felt delicious. Sam pushed up against the heat and Loki paused, his hot tongue grazing Sam's lips. Sam leaned up to continue their lip lock but Loki's moved down, his mouth finding interest in Sam's neck. A wet tongue on his fevered skin made Sam close his eyes, body surrendering to being lavished in carnal pleasures. He never understood why Dean could stand it when Rhonda Hurley left ugly marks on his skin, but he hadn't known it would make his skin tingle and his body so hot. Loki's hips moved, creating small cycles of friction that drove Sam crazy. Sam's hand gripped Loki's ribs under his jacket, khaki pants grinding against course, black denim. Sam's head was thoroughly full of smoke and he moaned, louder than he intended.


Loki sat up and pulled Sam's sweater vest up over his head. Sam's eyes opened, seeing Loki shrug off his leather jacket. Sam's pulse beat with both excitement and fear.


“I, um,” Sam said quietly as he watched Loki's jacket get tossed over a bale. He'd heard things around high school and college classes about what boys did to girls, but nothing was ever said about how two men went about it. “I've never done this before.”


“I can tell.” Loki gave him a smirk. “How about you lay back and let me show you how it's done.” Sam wanted Loki to do that. He wanted to let go and just feel, because he certainly was enjoying it all so far. Loki unbuttoned his shirt and kissed the skin that was revealed. Sam arched against the mouth on his belly and his fingers grasped hay by his side. It pricked his fingers and palms as Loki was again, sucking on a patch of skin; this time by his collarbone. Loki's intent seemed to be to make a path down his chest.


“Oh, Loki...” Sam moaned. His fingers gripped into Loki's t-shirt and his hips squirmed for attention since they were no longer pressed up against one another. He was hard and he'd never been so worked up before. He was always warned about masturbating, which was always difficult to ignore; and at the moment, impossible to will away. He didn't want it to be willed away. He wanted Loki to touch him more. But saying it was impossible as Loki's mouth was on a nipple. Sam gasped and he felt shaky as he guided one of Loki's hands down to the obvious bulge in his pants. Loki's palm squeezed and Sam's head was thrown back, a loud moan drowning out the music. Loki chuckled, his mouth ceasing to tease his skin for a moment.


“For a big guy, you're sensitive.” Loki gently kneaded Sam through his pants and Sam shut his eyes, feeling dizzy. Two hands squeezed his inner thighs and Sam's legs trembled.


“Oh God...” Sam murmured. He felt like he was going to burst and he gripped the edge of Loki's jeans, for something to anchor himself. Loki pulled his shirt over his head before his hands gripped on Sam's hips. The friction started up again, this time with more force since Loki was holding his hips in place and thrusting against him. Sam gasped and held his breath; tiny whimpers escaping him with the heat winding him up so tight. There was no calculated precision like the kissing. It was very primitive, grinding needily against each other. Sam groaned loud enough over the music while Loki was in more control; breathing heavily against Sam's skin.


Sam's body convulsed, a sudden bust of pleasure seized his body. He gripped Loki close, unsure of what to even call the sounds that left him as he rode out his orgasm. Loki's movement slowed as Sam was gasping for air. Ecstasy flooded his mind until he heard Loki chuckle.


“Mm, done already?” Loki asked.


“Huh?” Sam's fingers were starting to loosen from Loki's clothing.


“I think things are a starting to get a bit squishy down south.” Loki pointed and Sam realized there was a wet spot starting to seep in by his zipper.


“Oh, oh no.” Sam scooted away from Loki and he unbuckled his pants. He didn't need to get home and explain that stain to his mother. Not to mention, he'd just cum in his pants from a Pagan man humping him.


“Worry about it later.” Loki pulled Sam's face up, distracting him from removing his pants completely. “You have something to finish.” Loki unzipped his own fly and pulled out his hard cock, which was swollen red. Sam stared at it, unsure of what Loki was asking, at least until his hand was guided to wrap around the base. Loki's fingers had a good grip on Sam's hair as he drew him back into a kiss. Sam stroked Loki, cautiously at first. Loki guided him to an acceptable rhythm as his tongue again wanted to dance with Sam's. Sam breathed heavily into the kiss, satisfied to hear moments later Loki groan, cumming over his hand and the hay.


The last kiss lingered before Loki pulled back from his lips with a smile and said, “Thanks, Kiddo.” Sam's hair was released from the grip and he gathered himself, taking a deep breath. He felt satisfied, yet drained.


Sam cleaned up the best he could. He wiped his hand and any excess mess with an old rag from the barn. It was better than using prickly hay. Loki dressed and fixed his hair from their passionate activities and started smoking one of his cigarettes in the frame of the loft window. He watched Sam with an easy gaze. Sam wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know the man. He knew that Loki was bad for him. He didn't know why he went to see him; had to see him.


“Thank you,” Sam said, for lack of anything else to say.


“My pleasure,” Loki said and cocked a brow at him. “Yours too, I believe.” Sam's face flushed, enjoying the mild smoke that was starting to fog the barn roof.


“I'm... I'm not supposed to do that, I just...” Sam began but Loki just waved for him to come closer.


“Sam, Baby, you worry too much,” Loki said with a roll of his shoulders. Sam hesitated, but moved to sit down next to Loki. He watched the smoke roll out with Loki's breath. Loki wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, his skin tingling warmly with the touch. The sound of Earth Angel by the Penguins made the moment feel better than it should have. He should have been going right back to church and repenting for his sins.


“What cigarettes are those?” Sam finally asked. “I've never smelled anything like it before.” He would have to get Dean to switch brands if he couldn't stop his brother completely. Loki pulled the carton out of his pocket, which wasn't a brand Sam was familiar with.


“Cigarillos, actually,” Loki said. “Taste better than cigs.” He blew out a stream of smoke into the still air and Sam rested his head on Loki's, not even realizing it at first. He was just very comfortable and Loki was warm.


“They smell nice,” Sam said, though he felt silly for it afterwards. Loki only responded with that smile. Summer crickets were chirping and Sam realized the only light that they had was coming from Loki's lantern. “I have to get home,” Sam said and with an internal sigh, he remembered he'd probably have to walk to Castiel's so he could get a ride home. It was several miles, but at least it was warm out.


“Want a lift?” Loki asked as he sat up.


Sam said yes before even thinking about it.




Loki revved up his Harly in the barn as he straddled the seat. Sam had never ridden a motorcycle before. There weren't that many in town. Dean was in the majority in that everyone liked cars in Lawrence.


“Come on, Kiddo.” Loki indicated the back with a jerk of his head. “Hop on.” Sam let out a deep breath and climbed on behind Loki. It wasn't a very long seat, but he managed to find where to put his feet and he was comfortably pressed up against Loki's back. The bike moved forward and Sam immediately felt it was a bad idea. He gripped Loki's shoulders as they road over the dirt to the road. Loki stopped the bike and Sam blinked, thinking he forgot something. Loki thumbed right with right hand and then did the same with the left before his hands opened in a shrug, silently showing that he had no clue where Sam lived. Sam laughed over the engine and gestured for Loki to make a right turn.


Sam relaxed after the first few turns. The breeze whipped his skin but the summer air didn't chill him. He loosely held onto Loki's waist and he could hide his eyes from the wind in the nape of Loki's neck. He was glad for the darkness of post twilight. The streetlights were on but still dark enough to construe people's identities. The moon was new so their only real guide along the empty streets was the headlight of the bike and the stars over head.


As they turned down Sam's street he signaled for Loki to stop. Loki slowed and his boot stabilized the bike for Sam to get off. Sam's legs tingled with the vibrations of the engine and Loki gave him a wry smile as the engine purred.


“You should come by again,” Loki told him. Sam blinked and he felt unsure.


“I shouldn't,” Sam said. “You're not good for me, Loki Norse.” A wide smile spread out on Loki's face. He revved the engine, which made Sam cringe because people were inside their houses, and neighbors were nosy.


“Baby, doesn't matter if I'm good or bad.” Loki gave him a wink. “When you want me again, you'll come back.” Sam's skin flushed but before he could think of a reply, Loki pressed on the gas, and he was gone.


Sam listened to the growl of the engine before saw some of the lights were on in a neighbors houses. He half jogged to his house, trying to avoid prying eyes. He dusted himself off on the way to his home, finding several stands of hay in his hair and in the folds of his clothing. He stopped at the door and felt something in his back pocket. He pulled it out and he gasped, hiding it back in his pocket as the door opened. Dean glared at him.


“Took you long enough,” Dean said as he opened the screen door. He took a good look at Sam before he raised a brow. “Okay, seriously, what's her name?”


“Shut up, Dean.” Sam brushed his hair down, suddenly reminded how Loki had left him rumpled and no amount of primping without a brush would make anything look right. Dean tugged on Sam's shirt collar and Sam slapped his hand to his neck, remembering where Loki had been leaving him hickies. “Mind your own business, Jerk.” He brushed by Dean and hurried to his bedroom before his mom was distracted from her project in the kitchen. “Be right back mom.” He said quickly, knowing he'd have to say good night to her, but he wouldn't while he was smelling like barn and smoke.


Sam closed his door and sighed as he leaned against it. He pulled out the gift in his pocket, it was one of Loki's cigarellos. He held it to his nose and a smile crossed his face. It smelled sweet and woody and he closed his eyes.


It smelled like Loki Norse; the best mistake he ever made.