New Santorum
Sorry guys, cuts are still making it go all wibbley.
Ok, so I’ve been busy with getting my first humorous romance novel ready for publication, which it is, and you can get copies of ‘Prior Engagements’ now on Amazon. J The book also has a sneaky preview of my new gay novel at the end.
Check it out, http://www.amazon.com/Prior-Engagements-ebook/dp/B00B3HUYY6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358883985&sr=8-1&keywords=prior+engagements+sarah+goodwin
“Well, at least you have pants on.”
These are the words coming out of the cop’s mouth at Dean’s protest about being handcuffed. He had in fact leapt into his pants when all the shouting started, as had Castiel. A shirt had somehow escaped him, and only Cas had one on. It was Dean’s shirt, which technically meant that all his clothes were with him in the car, he just wasn’t wearing them.
But he was wearing handcuffs.
The ride to the station was tense and uncomfortable, but, after being stuck in traffic for ten minutes, Castiel spoke up.
“Will we be allowed to contact our lawyers at the station?”
“Once you’re booked in, yeah,” the cop in the driver’s seat said, “but if I were you, I’d save your money. We’ve got tapes, there’s no way you’re getting out of this. Sorry guys.”
He seemed genuinely sorry, and that actually makes Dean feel a little better, at least until Castiel says, “Tapes?” all innocent, like he isn’t a porn star.
The cop in the other seat snickers. “We’ve seen your uh...movies? Real classy too, you know, for guys banging.”
Castiel closes his eyes silently.
“Woulda thought you two geniuses would at least blur your faces.”
Dean had thought Gabriel was blurring them.
He was going to kill him.
As soon as he got the handcuffs off.
-*-
Sitting in a police cell, shirtless, was no fun at all, especially with Castiel nowhere in sight, as they’d put his somewhere else, probably to make them both panic, and to stop them preparing a story. Like Dean had a story - other than the truth. What was he going to say?’ I’m so sorry officer, I wasn’t making porn though, I’m just really paranoid about people stealing my garage-bed, so I set up some cameras and then accidently had lots of adventurous gay sex all over the place and then sleep-uploaded it to a porn sight and accepted all the money that came from seemingly nowhere’
Yeah right. Republicans might buy that ‘God carved white men out of his own beard’ stuff, but they weren’t total dumbasses.
Dean sat on the bench in his cell, his bare feet up off of the floor. It felt like he was there hours, but eventually someone came to get him and they took him out of the cell, and into an interview room. Thankfully, it was only another half-hour before Sam came in wearing a suit and a pissed off face.
“Dean, have you said anything?” He asked right off, once they were alone.
“No.”
“And Cas?”
“I haven’t seen him since the cops brought us in...can you go see if he’s ok?”
Sam sighed. “I swear, I thought they were blurred...I mean, Gabriel tried to show me, but...the brief glimpse I got? It was hard to tell, you know?”
“I’m not blaming you.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “But listen, you have to get Cas out of here, he’s not jail ready.”
“And you are?”
“Well, I like to think so.”
“Watching re-runs of Prison Break doesn’t mean you’re ‘jail ready’.” Sam glared at him, then his expression softened. “Wait, is this...are you, worried, about him?”
“You really just tuning in?”
“No, mean, like, worried like a normal human being is about someone they’re...you slept with him.”
“That’s actually why I’m here right now,” Dean said tightly.
“No, you had actual sex with him.”
Dean suddenly had a horrible thought.
“Are they taping us in here?”
“Not with sound.”
“Oh thank God.” Dean slumped in his chair. “Because I need to talk to someone about this, and Cas is probably on the other side of the building trading sexual favours for cigarettes...”
“It’s been two hours.”
“Huh...it felt like more.” Dean shook his head, “Anyway, yeah, Cas and I had sex. We thought about taking it slow, for about five minutes, only it turns out I’m the same with guys as I am with girls...”
“A massive man-ho?”
“Shut up. But...yeah. So we did it and it was...good. Great even. Really...some quality butt-sex right there, you know?”
Sam looked like he wished very much that he didn’t know. He also wished that he’d had time to take off the panties he’d been wearing to dinner with Gabriel before he’d come to the jail. But, if wishes were horses...beggers wouldn’t wear panties either.
“But, I still feel like something’s not there that, should be.”
“Like...boobs?”
“Like...” Dean frowned, “can you turn around?”
Sam turned around rolling his eyes to himself. “I wouldn’t have encouraged this if I’d known it would turn you into such a drama queen.”
“Just, shhh,” Dean took a deep breath, “look, this isn’t easy but...I think, maybe, what I was missing was...more of a guy thing, than a...girl, thing.”
Slowly, Sam turned back around.
“Are you, trying to tell me...you think you’re a, bottom?”
Dean glared at him. “You gonna make a big thing out of this?”
“No...just, huh. It’s, interesting.”
“No it’s not...it’s, mundane, boring, run of the goddamn mill.”
Sam nodded, struggling to keep his face from twisting into a grin, and his panties from twisting into a worrying bunch.
“Sure. It’s completely to be expected that my brother the girl chasing man-whore is now suddenly a completely comfortable bottom, with a steady boyfriend.”
“Don’t call him my boyfriend.”
“That’s the part of that sentence that you have a problem with? Wow, you are gone on him.”
Dean looked down at the floor and muttered something that sounded like ‘shut up’. But his ears had gone pink, and Sam realised that his brother actually liked Cas. The way a fourteen years old girl ‘likes’ her first boyfriend. He was about an inch from writing ‘Dean + Cas = love forever’ on all his pink notebooks.
“I’ll go check on Cas,” Sam promised, “but kidding aside, the charges against you two are pretty serious. They’ve got you on making and distributing illegal pornographic materials, and with the prejudicial element of you both being gay...or at least, one gay one ‘highly experimental dude’, is going to make the mud stick on this one.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning...you might get the full sentence, which is twelve years in jail.”
“What?” Dean burst out, “I thought, maybe a fine, community service, worst case, maybe a year - twelve years?”
“No one has got that yet, the cases against pornographers usually settle up on suspended sentences, community service, or a small amount of jail time, and even then that’s only if there’s coercion involved, or drugs. But...the gay thing? Depends who your judge is, who’s on the jury...this could go badly for you.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah.”
“No, I mean...I won’t see Cas will I? We’ll go separate places, or, even if we don’t, you can’t exactly have a relationship in a prison.”
Sam looked at him strangely.
“What?”
“Nothing...just...you’re all kinds of sweet right now.”