This is my first crossover story, and I'm nervous to see what you all think of it. Hopefully you like it!

-Emilee

"Dean! Dean, you can't tell me to stay in the car! I want to help!" Kendall screeched from the backseat if the Impala, hand curling around the seat in front of him, angry that the older Winchester wouldn't let him go inside the haunted house.

"I can tell you whatever I want! Stay in the damn car!" Dean yelled back, cocking the shotgun filled with rock salt before nodding for Sam to follow him into the house.

"Dean, this is the kid's first hunt. You're just gonna leave him in the car?" He asked his brother, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder.

"Yes," Dean said with obvious irritation, "He's not ready. He can hardly shoot."

"But—"

"But nothing, Sam. I can't afford letting him get hurt."

Once the two Winchesters were inside the house, Kendall huffed and kicked the seat, which he instantly regretted. He muttered a "sorry" to the vehicle before shaking his head at how stupid he sounded. He carefully exited the car, groaning at how squeaky the door was. He moved around to the trunk and lifted the false floor, grabbing a shotgun and a handful of shells, which he loaded in the gun before he shoved more in his pocket.

"There is no way I'm gonna sit back while they gank the ghost." The blond muttered to himself, using a word he'd picked up from Dean, ready to show that he was ready to start hunting.

He trudged up to the house, looking around before he entered. The house was rundown and dark, staircase eerily holding old children's toys, one doll looking like it was staring right at him. He reached over and picked it up, brushing off the dust and ash from where he house partly burnt down years ago.

"That's my dolly." A child's voice echoed softly. Kendall's eyes widened.

A little girl stood a few feet away, her skin very pale, brown hair pulled back in two braids. Her clothes were tattered and burnt. She almost looked real, until she flickered.

"I-I… Yeah. It's very nice." He said, his heart racing from fear, feeling terribly sorry for the girl. He knelt down in front of her, setting his gun in his lap, "Do you want it back?"

"I can't hold it anymore, no matter how hard I try." She frowned; reaching out for the doll in his hand, her's going through it, a cold tingling sensation radiating through his hand and arm, goosebumps rising to his skin.

He didn't know what to tell her; he couldn't make it any better, he couldn't help her. She was already dead. "I'm sorry…"

"Lizzy. My name is Lizzy." She said, smiling a bit despite the situation.

"I'm Kendall." He answered.

"Kendall, why do you have a gun?" She asked, fixing a burnt ruffle on her dress.

"So nothing hurts me." He said.

"…My Daddy used to hurt me. And my big brother." Lizzy was frowning again, and a sick feeling washed over the room; she looked terrified, "He's coming. You have to hide before he hurts you, too."

Pounding footsteps could be heard on the second floor, and Kendall stood quickly, dropping the doll on the floor next to his feet, shotgun held just like Dean had shown him before. Lizzy whimpered and flickered again, but she didn't come back this time. A black silhouette of a man appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Get out of my house!" It growled, starting to stomp down the stairs. Kendall couldn't move. He felt sick to his stomach, and a cold feeling was approaching him quickly.

He was pushed out of the way, falling onto the floor, another body on top of his. A loud bang was heard, heavy breathing in the blond's ear. "I told you to stay in the car."

"I didn't want to." Kendall mumbled, feeling the body hold its own weight. He looked up, two sets of green eyes meeting.

"You're such a pain in my ass." Dean grumbled.

"No, but I could be." The blond smirked mockingly.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed the teen by the collar of his jacket, hauling both of them up, "You are going back in the car."

"I'm not going anywhere," Kendall shoved him away, picking up the shotgun, "I have to help Lizzy."

"Who the hell is Lizzy?" Dean shouted, hands in fists, jaw clenched.

"The daughter." Sam answered, looking at the teen, "You saw her?"

He nodded, "She's scared. Dean, please let me stay."

Sam turned to his older brother, giving a look, knowing Dean had a soft spot for children. Dean huffed, then rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He said, but he knew he'd regret it.

—

Dean heard fighting in the next room, but couldn't go see, needing to burn the bloody shirt of the father, the only thing left that was keeping him here. He heard a smash of glass, then looked over, seeing Kendall being thrown against the wall before sliding down it and slumping on the floor.

"Kendall!" He ran over, dropping his lighter and the piece of clothing on the floor next to him, holding the limp teen by the shoulders, trying to get him to open his eyes, "K-Kendall…?"

A low growl was heard, and Dean turned his head, the dark shadow standing over him. It picked the Winchester up by his jacket, off the floor as it breathed in his face. The shadow threw him across the room, into Sam who had just arrived in the doorway. The two brother's fell on the floor, Dean rolling onto the floor next to him, Sam having the wind knocked out of him. The spirit stomped closer; pulling Dean up by the back of his jacket, turning him before shoving him against the wall, wrapping a hand around his throat and lifting him off the ground.

Sam regained his breath, crawling over to where his shotgun lay, picking it up. The spirit used his free hand and waved it, the gun hitting the younger Winchester in the face, Sam groaning in agony.

"Sammy." Dean struggled to talk, kicking his legs, trying to get free. The spirit screamed in pain, dropping Dean to the floor and bursting into flames. The brothers shielded their faces, Dean coughing harshly.

"Not dying today, you son of a bitch." Kendall muttered, letting the burning piece of cloth fall to the floor next to him, his own blood now staining it as well. The teen wiped his bleeding hand on his dirty plaid shirt, eyes half lidded while trying to keep consciousness.

"Kendall, you're bleeding." Lizzy came running over in a unburnt white dress, kneeling down next to him, her lips in a pout.

"I'll be okay." The teen rasped out, smiling a little.

"Lizzy, we have to go. Mom said so." A boy, about the age of eight, walked over to her, pulling her up from the floor, his clothes looking brand new just like her's.

"Mommy's here?" She asked him, a smile replacing her pout.

He nodded, looking over at the top of the stairs. Kendall looked over as well, and didn't see anything, but there was a better, lighter feeling to the whole house. Lizzy's smile widened, and she ran over to the foot of the stairs, waving excitedly. She looked over at Kendall one more time, and gave a smile before reaching down and picking up her doll, hugging it to her chest. The children walked up the stairs, the brother helping his sister since she was smaller than him. Kendall let out a breathy laugh, which hurt his chest, as the children disappeared in white light.

He felt hands haul him up from the floor, and he let out a pain-filled grunt, slumping against the person's shoulder as two pairs of hands held him, helping him walk out the door.

—

"You okay?" Dean asked, watching his brother leave the hotel room before turning to the teen he directed the question at.

Kendall didn't respond, too busy trying to undress with his headphones on. Bruises discolored his skin, cuts on his hands and one on his head, not noticeable when his bangs were down. He worked on his belt, bobbing his head slightly to the music. The Winchester swallowed a bit hard while watching the blond's naked back, shoulder blades moving under that creamy, slightly tanned skin, purple-blue bruise looking painful on his lower back.

"Kendall." Dean said, walking over, setting a rough hand on the other's smooth back. The teen tensed, hands on the zipper of his jeans stopping. He reached up, the older man noticing the muscles flexing in his arm.

He pulled an ear bud out, then turned just enough to look at him, "Yeah?"

"I asked if you were okay." The brunette didn't mean to come off as harsh.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I… I thought you left so I put on music." The teen took out his other ear bud and turned off his iPod.

Dean shook his head, "It's fine. How are you?"

"I'm okay; just a couple of cuts and scrapes." He shrugged, which inflicted slight pain.

"It's a bit more than a few cuts and scrapes," The Winchester said, looking at Kendall's torso, a blood dark bruise over the skin over his ribs, "I think one of your ribs is broken."

"I'll be fine, Dean." He said, reluctantly moving away from the older male, away from the warm hand that hadn't moved from his back.

He wanted to feel the warmth of his rough hands again, wondering how they'd feel touching his jaw before they kissed, how it would feel to have him tugging on his belt before he slipped his hand inside and gripped his cock. Kendall shivered at the thought, and quickly shook them from his mind, setting his iPod on the dresser.

"You're not fine. I should take you to a doctor." The brunette told him.

"No, we should shower, get some sleep, then get out of here in the morning." He disagreed, leaning down and wincing as he grabbed his night clothes out of his duffel. He could handle the pain; it was just like after a rough hockey game.

"You're so childish. No matter what I say, you have to disagree. You are a child, Kendall." The older man's anger was starting to get the best of him, and he was starting to not care.

"I am not a child." Kendall retorted, gritting his teeth as he stood again, eyes locked on the brunette.

"Oh, no. For sure, you're a frickin' child. I should have never let you come along. You get your stupid shoe prints all over the seats in my car, you tried to drink after I told you not to, and you just don't listen in general. You're such a punk, kid." He ranted, letting it all come out.

The teen was furious, and hurt. He wanted to take his fist to Dean's jaw, make him take it back, but he knew the other was too proud. He walked over to the brunette, pushing him, ignoring the pain it caused himself.

"If I'm such a punk, why don't you fix me? Put me in my place, Dean. I dare you. Make me your good boy." Kendall pushed him again, eyes glaring at the expression of surprise on the other's face.

"Put you in your goddamn place." The Winchester growled, pushing the blond back, onto the hotel bed. He stripped away his jacket, throwing it, keeping angry eyes locked with Kendall's.

The teen watched him, letting himself be forced down to the bed, the older man leaning over him, forcing his neck to crane as he bit at the smooth flesh. A leg shoved itself between the blond's, knee against his crotch, rubbing him through his undone jeans. He couldn't hold back the groan that left his lips, reaching down to fondle Dean through his jeans, wanting to give the same pleasure he was feeling. The older man's hands grabbed the other's wrists, pulling them away from his steadily growing erection, pinning them above his head on the mattress.

"No touching." Dean whispered roughly into the blond's ear, teeth nipping at the lobe.

"I'll touch you if I fucking want to." Kendall jerked his wrists away a few times before the Winchester let him have his way. He felt triumphant.

"Oh, I've never heard you swear so obscenely before, Kenny." He teased, shrugging off the material of his shirt as the teen pulled it over his head.

"Don't make fun of me." He growled, leaning up and roughly connecting their mouths, something he'd only dreamed of doing.

Dean groaned into the kiss, working his tongue into the blond's mouth, touching and tasting every inch, causing a shudder to shake through the other's body. The older male smirked, the teen starting to play along, twisting and swirling his tongue with Dean's as he worked on his jeans. Kendall pulled at the belt, fiddling to get it undone; moaning in anticipation as the tugged at the button and zipper. He got them open after what seemed like an eternity, and shoved his hand inside, roughly palming him through his boxers.

The Winchester broke just a little, letting himself be touched, rocking his hips to encourage it. Kendall felt his length throb, and he bucked against Dean's leg shamelessly before feeling him move away, off the bed. He whined, but earned a hard slap to the inner thigh.

"No whining." Dean warned, taking in the appearance of the teen; his hair mussed, sweat making his skin shine, lust overtaking his eyes.

He pushed his jeans down his legs, holding back a groan at the way the fabric rubbed against him. He kicked the unwanted clothing away, Kendall sitting up on his elbows to look, rutting his hips against the confines of his clothes to get some friction.

"You look desperate." The brunette smirked, trying to keep a powerful tone even though he was slipping.

"Why don't you shut up and fuck me, already?" The teen retorted.

Dean grabbed him by the hips, curling his fingers around the denim and pulling it down swiftly, along with the blond's plaid boxers, leaving him completely naked. His cock was standing at full attention, precome beading at the tip, blush and surprise on his face. His heart was racing as the taller man knelt down, spreading his legs and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed.

"This is the only time I'm gonna be easy with you," Dean told him quietly, bringing two fingers up to the blond's mouth, setting them on his bottom lip, "Suck 'em."

Kendall's cock twitched, and he let out a deep breath before bringing the other's fingers into his mouth, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the tips. He watched Dean's eyes flutter closed and a breathy groan escape his lips; he'd never sucked a dick before, but he'd always wondered how he'd do, and he was glad he was getting a good reaction just for sucking on fingers. Dean pulled his hand away, opening his eyes, seeing the blond bite his bottom lip as he trailed his hand down.

"Lay back." The Winchester said, waiting until the teen did so to set a slick finger to his entrance. Kendall jumped slightly, and Dean placed a kiss to his inner thigh, watching him relax again.

The brunette slipped his middle finger in, sighing at how tight and warm the teen was. He tested his limits, gently starting to thrust his finger, hearing a stifled noise from the other. Dean moved up a bit, biting down on Kendall's hip, sucking a mark into the skin, a gasp leaving the smaller's lips.

"D-Dean." He stuttered out, letting one of his hands slip down, running through the short brunette hair, more gentle than he should have been, "It hurts."

"You finally admit it." He thought.

He didn't respond, only turned his head and nibbled at the sensitive flesh of Kendall's cock, moving down to his balls and taking one into his mouth to suck. The teen whimpered, curling his fingers around a chunk of Dean's hair, rolling his own head back onto the bed. The Winchester crooked his finger, brushing against the teen's prostate, a surprised squeak leaving the blond's mouth as his hips pushed forward for more. Another finger pressed to Kendall's hole before pushing in, slight pain mixing with pleasure as Dean crooked them again. He lapped at the precome on the tip of the blond's cock, tasting it, his own dick swelling and begging for attention.

Kendall was starting to fuck himself down onto Dean's fingers, loving how they filled him up, trying hard not to buck up and shove his cock down the older's throat, even though he desperately wanted to. He pulled off, swatting Kendall's hand away from his hair as he sat up again, stretching the teen as best he could before pulling them out. The blond whined, feeling empty, looking up at Dean to see why he stopped. He watched the older man stand, muscles flexing as he slipped his boxers off, sighing in relief to be free of the fabric. Kendall's eyes widened at the size of the Winchester's cock, and licked his lips, thinking about how it'd feel to have him inside his now gaping hole.

"Come here, blondie." Dean said, anger and power returning to his voice, standing at the foot of the bed.

Kendall sat up, licking his lips again before he gripped the base of the brunette's cock, teasing the tip with his tongue, rough fingers twisting in his hair, pulling him forward. The teen shot a smug look up at Dean, then wrapped his lips around the head, sucking harshly, earning a grunt and a tug to the hair. He slicked up the brunette's shaft as he gently bobbed his head, hallowing out his cheeks, slurping a bit. Dean started rocking his hips, then remembered what he needed to do. Put me in my place. Make me your good boy. He pulled the teen away, letting out a deep breath, already missing the warmth of his mouth. He pushed him down roughly, Kendall remembering the game instantly. He glared at the Winchester while he crawled on the bed; letting himself be grabbed by the waist and put up so his head was against the pillows, legs spread obscenely. Dean clasped his hand over the teen's mouth, slowly entering him.

"Fuck." The Winchester gasped, the tight heat engulfing him, stopping when he was in balls deep.

One of Kendall's hands was gripping the bed sheets, his eyes squeezed shut, small whimpering muffled by the hand. It hurt; it really did, but he wasn't about to back down. He wanted this more than anything for months, and he was finally getting it.

"Kendall, open your eyes." Dean whispered, moving his hand away from his mouth, pushing the sweaty hair away from the blond's forehead, sighing at the gash on his hairline.

"Shut up, asshole." The teen grunted out, fake anger in his voice, hand going down to hold his ribs as he took deep breaths.

"Don't talk to me like that." The older man growled, grabbing the other's jaw and turning it, sinking his teeth into his neck, sucking a dark hickey into the already marred skin.

Kendall let out a groan, starting to rock his hips into Dean's, adjusting faster than he thought he would. He grabbed a hold of his hair, tugging him away from his neck, green eyes meeting green eyes.

"I will if I want to."

Dean started thrusting, slow at first, stretching the teen farther open, hands roaming and hips shifting. Kendall felt the head of the other's cock brush his prostate, and he begged him to do it again; to go faster, harder, deeper. The Winchester obliged, doing as he was told, muttering and cursing into the blond's ear, both of them growing louder as they sped up. Soon, Dean was pounding into him, shattering his virginity, taking everything he could get. Kendall felt desperate; he needed more. He groped the older man's ass and pulled him in closer, yelping as his prostate was hit repeatedly.

"Fuck, I-I'm gonna—" Kendall was cut off, plush lips attaching to his own, hips thrusting erratically, a rough hand wrapping around his cock and pumping.

The teen's body tensed and he cried out into Dean's mouth, orgasm washing over him, the other feeling him convulse around his cock before his own climax hit him, making him coat Kendall's insides in white, marking him as his and no one else's. They rode out their releases, rutting against each other, hands clinging to anything they could.

Dean gave a kiss to the blond's neck, over the mark he'd made, rubbing his thumb against the one he made on his hip. Kendall's hand ran through the brunette's hair as an apology for pulling earlier.

"Good boy." Dean whispered against his skin, eyes closed.

"I agree." A small cocky grin was painted on the teen's face as he held the Winchester close, letting him have his way and fall asleep.