Who you gonna call? 1/3
Chapter 1
It was long after midnight when Nick came home to the small apartment he shared with Aiden. His roommate wasn't home yet, Nick had seen him getting in a Porsche just a few hours ago and didn't expect him back before dawn. But with quite some cash in his pocket, Nick had no doubt. Lucky bastard, getting picked up by a Porsche.
Yeah but that thing has nothing on a '67 Impala, Nick could practically hear Dean's voice in his head.
However, Nick's evening hadn't been that bad either. He stuffed the wad of bills in the back of the drawer under his socks and then peeled of his clothes. The smell of cigarettes and sweat lingered in the fabric and on his skin and traces of dried come itched on Nick's face.
"I know why I charge extra for shooting in my face." Nick muttered and padded naked to the bathroom. After a shower and brushing his teeth, and a good gargling with mouthwash to get the latex taste out of his throat, Nick felt human again.
Not quite ready for bed he made himself comfortable on the couch and switched on the TV. Dozing off to some guy advertising "the last set of cooking pots you'll ever buy" Nick snuggled deeper into the cushions.
Half asleep it took him a moment to realize that the buzzing noise wasn't coming from the TV but as soon as Nick saw the caller ID on his phone he was wide awake. Dean.
It had been nearly three weeks since they had given him a call, nineteen days to be exact but who was counting, and secretly Nick had started to wonder if they had moved on. It wasn't the longest gap between their awesome sex sessions, that would have been twenty-seven days, but it was still way too long if anybody would bother to ask Nick.
"Hi." Nick answered the phone and tried to not sound as exited as he felt.
"Hi." Came Dean's rough voice through the speaker. "I … ehm … I hope I didn't wake you."
"No, no." Nick hurried to say and turned off the TV. "Just watching TV."
But it made him wonder. Usually Sam or Dean called during the day, at least not when it was most likely that he was either working or sleeping. And Dean sounded off somehow. Especially when Dean didn't say anything for a long minute.
"You okay?" Nick finally asked. Something was wrong.
"Yeah, I'm good." It sounded like he was rubbing his face.
"You two in town?" In his mind Nick was already rearranging the next days. Usually Sam and Dean tried to get the most out of their short stops in town and Nick just wanted to sleep for twenty-four hours straight afterwards.
"No." Dean cleared his throat. "We're not … actually I don't know where we are … we kinda left in a hurry."
Nick waited for an explanation but Dean didn't offer one. Instead he sighed heavily.
"Dean, is Sam alright?" Cold fear settled deep in his guts and not for the first time Nick wondered what Sam and Dean did for a living. It was dangerous, that much Nick had figured out by himself.
"He's sleeping now." Dean's voice was soft but raspy and it did nothing to ease Nick's worries. "I thought … for a second I thought I lost him."
Oh God, Nick closed his eyes.
"What happened?" He asked not sure if he wanted to know. Or if Dean would actually tell him.
"He went through a window." Dean sounded far away. "I couldn't … he was lying there. So still, so much blood."
Nick had no idea how or why Sam fell out of a window but he had no problems picturing him lying there in his own blood.
"But he's going to be okay, right?" Nick grabbed the phone tighter and pressed it to his ear.
"Yeah." Dean came back from wherever his thoughts had been. "Yeah, head wounds bleed like a bitch but he's fine. Concussion, two broken fingers and cuts and bruises all over. Looked worse than it was."
"That's good." It didn't sound too bad but one thing still made Nick wonder. "Dean, don't get me wrong, man, I'm glad you called me but … why are you calling me?" Shouldn't you talk to somebody of your family?, was the unspoken question.
For a long moment Dean didn't answer.
"You're the only one who knows." He finally said and he didn't need to say more. Dean hadn't told his family that he was gay, that he was with another man. That he was with Sam.
Nick understood.
No damn faggots under my roof! His father's voice echoed through his mind. Kicked out in the middle of the night.
Nick understood.
"Where are you? A motel?" Nick shoved the memory aside and concentrated on the here and now. "Give me your surroundings."
"Yeah, a motel. I'm sitting on the toilet." Now Dean actually chuckled. "Don't worry, on the closed lid with my pants up."
"Get your ass over to the bed." Nick ordered, an idea forming in his head.
"I don't want to disturb Sammy." His sigh was heavy.
"Wait, they didn't keep him overnight?" That was a good sign, right? But when Dean didn't say anything another thought occurred to Nick. "Dean, you took him to a hospital, right? Right?"
"Nothing we couldn't handle." Dean finally answered in a tone that clearly said Drop it. "He's going to be fine."
You thought he was dead, Nick wanted to yell at him but kept his mouth shut. Instead he did something else. Dean didn't need him to yell at him. Dean needed something to distract him from the picture in his head of Sam lying motionless in a puddle of his own blood.
"You heard that?" Nick asked.
"Yeah?"
"That was me taking my shirt off." He let Dean hear his smug grin.
"I didn't call for that." Dean hurried to say. "You don't have to … I'm not really in the mood anyway." The last words were kinda lame and Nick chose to ignore them and took of his sweatpants.
"I'm naked now." He informed Dean. "I'm lying on the couch, all stretched out, stroking myself."
Dean swallowed thickly at the other end of the line. "Phone sex? Really?"
Nick shrugged. "Why not? You said Sam is going to be fine, he's sleeping now. You on the other hand need to get your head free, get rid of some of the tension and maybe you'll be able to sleep too."
When Dean didn't answer Nick continued: "Lean your head back and close your eyes." He gave Dean a second to follow the order or to tell him to shut up, which he didn't. "You're sitting there in the bathroom and I just walked in. I'm naked and already half-hard. I spread your legs to crouch between them, my elbows resting on your thighs and I look you in the eye. I lean in and kiss you."
Nick paused to give himself and Dean a moment to picture the scene. "And then you take control. Your hands are in my hair and you claim my mouth. Your tongue is exploring the wet heat of my mouth, you suck and lick and claim it. You love my mouth, don't you?"
"Yeah." Came the hoarse answer and Nick didn't bother to hide his grin. Dean was addicted to his mouth, that was an open secret. "Love your mouth."
"Tell me what you want. What do you want me to do?" Lazily stroking his own cock he waited for instructions.
"Are you touching yourself?" Dean asked instead and didn't wait for an answer. "Stop that. You're not going to touch yourself until I say so. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." Nick placed his hand on the couch next to him. By now he was fully erected and he bit his lip in anticipation. He'd never done phone sex before but this promised to be interesting.
"And now put that mouth of yours to good use. I want those cock-sucking lips wrapped around me." Dean ordered and Nick wondered if he was palming himself through his jeans. He could almost see it. The bulge, the hard line of Dean's cock straining the fabric. It made Nick's moth water.
"I kiss you again." Nick had to clear his throat to get the words out. "Then I travel downwards. I leave a straight line of kisses on your chest and stomach while my hands are on your ribcage, I'm stroking you and kissing you until I reach your crotch."
There was some shifting over the phone and Dean's breath was hot in Nick's ear.
"I bury my face there, inhale your scent and mouth you through the fabric. My mouth hot and wet on you."
Dean made a strangled noise and Nick needed to make a fist to stop himself from putting his hand on his aching cock.
"I open your fly." Nick continued, the picture clear in his head. He could almost feel the cold tiles under his knees. "I get your cock out. It's heavy in my hand and I stroke it while I tuck your underwear just beneath your balls."
Nick heard the sound of a zipper and some rustling and he waited a moment for Dean to arrange himself.
"I keep my hands on your hips and only use my mouth. A flat stroke with my tongue from base to tip before I seal my lips around the head. I'm circling the head with my tongue, dipping in the slit. Just the tip of your cock in my mouth and I explore every bit of it."
Dean groaned into his ear.
"My lips are sealed around the head and I suck with my tongue pressed against the underside of it."
Now the unmistakable sound of jerking off came over the line and Nick could picture Dean as clearly as if he was in the same room as him. Sitting fully dressed on the closed toilet lid, head thrown back against the tiles with his eyes closed, phone pressed against his ear with one hand and fisting his cock with the other one.
"Now I start bobbing my head." Nick continued after a second. God, he wished he was there with Dean. "Taking you deeper every time, taking you inch by inch until you hit the back of my throat. But that's not enough, isn't it?" Nick had blown Dean often enough to know exactly how the other man liked his blowjobs. "What you gonna do?"
"I …" Dean grunted and Nick almost saw him bucking his hips, fucking into the emptiness where they both wished Nick's mouth was. "I grab your hair. I hold you in place and fuck your face. Make you take it."
Nick hadn't actually moved but he was covered in sweat and his heart was pounding in his chest and his cock was slick with precome and he just needed some friction. Something to take the edge off. He whimpered but didn't do anything about his throbbing cock.
"My eyes water and I'm fighting to not gag and I can't breathe and I love it." He could fucking taste Dean on his tongue. "Fuck me harder, Dean. Fuck my mouth. Force it down my throat. Fuck me. Use me."
When Dean came he sounded like a wounded animal, a desperate, raw cry that brought tears to Nick's eyes. After that there was only harsh breathing for a long minute on the other end of the line but Nick didn't dare to interrupt Dean.
"You still there?" Dean finally asked.
"I'm here." I'm here for you, was the real meaning behind the words and Nick hoped Dean understood the unspoken part.
"Still hard?"
"Yes." Nick shifted on the couch, his erection neglected and heavy between his legs.
"Touching yourself?"
"No, sir." But it was getting hard, pun clearly intended, to follow that specific order. Nick stuffed his fist in his mouth and bit down.
"Wanna come?" Dean sounded drowsy and fucked out but the smirk was unmistakable.
"Please, sir. Wanna come. Let me come, please." The begging came easily over his lips, Nick was beyond caring. "Please."
"You can touch yourself now. Wanna hear you come."
It took just a few strokes and Nick was spurting over his fist and stomach. He didn't hold back the scream when the orgasm ripped through him, wanted Dean to hear every bit of it. Nick worked himself through the aftershocks with breahtless gasps, smearing come all over himself, until he collapsed back into the cushions. Catching his breath he lay there with his eyes closed, spend cock still in his loose fist.
For a moment there was an awkward silence over the phone.
"Thank you, I needed that." Dean cleared his throat. "I'll pay you when we're in town the next time."
"I don't charge for helping a friend." Nick hurried to say. He didn't want money, not for something like this. "Sam is going to be alright?"
"He'll be fine." He sounded confident and Nick had to believe him.
"Good. Go to bed Dean."
They ended the call and Nick just lay there for a minute longer sweat and come cooling on his skin.
"How long have you been standing there?" He finally asked without opening his eyes.
"Just for the finale." Aiden answered but didn't move. "Don't get too attached to them."
Now Nick opened his eyes and lifted his head enough to look Aiden in the eye over the back of the couch.
"Get?"
"You're a hopeless cause." Aiden shook his head with a laugh. "I need a shower and then I'm off to bed." He turned towards the bathroom. "If you got come on the cushions you're the one cleaning it up."
continue to chapter 2
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