Unspoken Part 3

[sailorhathor]

Thanks to Harshini the Impatient Vegemite for poking me until I wrote this story. She also served as its beta.

Unspoken
Rated NC-17 (graphic boysexxin')
Miracles/Supernatural cross-over
Dean/Paul, discussion of Teen!Dean/Billy Loomis from Scream
Follows "Orange-Flavored Kiss"

Dean and Sam return to Boston. Dean tells Paul that he is a God is Nowhere person. Tons of hurt/comfort.

Sitting down next to Sam, Evie leaned slightly over his shoulder to read the paper in his hand. "You've reached Danielle Franklin's part of the file?"

Sam jerked a little in his chair like she'd startled him; he'd been so engrossed in the transcripts of Danielle's dreams, he didn't realize she was there. "Oh, yeah. Seems like."

"Sorry I scared you," she chuckled.

"It's okay. Hey, tell me something... do all of their dreams come true? The dreams the God is Nowhere people have of Paul?"

"They have so far."

After a long pause, Sam grunted, "Huh," and kept reading. He started to fidget in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk and his foot on the floor. Eventually, he put the paper down and said, "When he was a kid, Dean dreamed that Paul met his father."

Alva looked up from what he was reading. "Oh? You did say that your brother had had some dreams about Paul..."

"Yeah." Sam wet his lips; his mouth was suddenly dry with nervousness. "Our dad's letter said Dean was really worried about Paul meeting his father, because he could be a dangerous man."

"Paul's father is the dangerous one?" Evie asked, needing clarification.

"Yeah. In Dean's dream, Paul meets his father, only he doesn't know this man is his father."

Alva seemed a little alarmed. "Goodness." He and Evie looked at each other. "For all we know, this could have already happened."

Evie finished, "Or... maybe not."

They were all silent as this revelation sunk in. "I wish we had some clue what was going to happen," Evie added.

Sam's eyes shifted nervously.

A minute later, he came to the passage detailing Danielle's dream about Paul's meeting with his father at the sidewalk cafe. Fountain. Anger. The water turns red. Looking troubled, Sam rubbed his hand over his mouth and put down the paper.

Although he didn't realize it, Evie had been watching Sam, noticing how his eyes widened and his expression became more and more disturbed. "Sam, what is it?"

He jumped in his seat again. "I think you're trying to give me a heart attack," he said, a little irritated.

She didn't acknowledge the comment. "Sam?"

Sighing, he mumbled, "Dean's going to kill me." Then he picked up the sheet of paper and pointed to the description of Danielle's sidewalk cafe dream. "Dean had this dream last night."

"What? Which dream?" Alva set aside his own reading again to see what Sam was talking about.

"Danielle's dream about the sidewalk cafe, when Paul meets his father."

Evie and Alva tried to tie each other for most times they had looked shocked that day. "Oh... Alva... this worries me..." she said.

"Whatever happens, we're all going to be there, so we'll get Paul through it," Sam added, trying to reassure them.

"We'll all be there?" Alva said disbelievingly.

"Uh... yeah." Sam smiled, sheepish; he felt he'd said too much already. Dean was going to kill him. "Maybe my brother should fill in the details. It wasn't my dream."

Another awkward silence. Alva and Evie looking at each other. Then Alva ignored what Sam had said to ask, "Why were we all there?"

Because we were heading off to stop the Apocalypse, silly. "I'm not sure. You'll have to ask Dean." Oh, that's brilliant! Now he's really, REALLY going to kill you.

"Everyone was there? Even me?" Evie pressed.

Even Paul's dead mother! "I think so," Sam assumed. Truth was, he couldn't remember if Dean had said Evie was there; if she was, she hadn't said anything. Dean had only repeated what Alva had said (You unimaginable bastard) and that Sam himself had been standing behind Dean, "humming with power." Like this wasn't strange enough, there had to be that description to haunt him every time he thought about it. Sam was sorry he'd brought it up. "Ask Dean when he comes in."

Not only did he now have to wonder how he'd gotten to the point that he was humming like a generator, but what he was going to be able to do with all that power. At least Sam didn't have to wonder what was going to happen once his brother got there - that one was easy.

Dean was going to kill him.

*****

Paul rubbed Dean's shoulder. The shameful, haunted feelings coming off of Dean broke his heart. "When?" he asked gently.

Dean, his eyes far off, drifting in the past, didn't speak for a long moment. Then he replied, "I was seventeen."

Paul continued, "Why did you do it?"

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, he said, "I had... all these friends back then. It was the only time in my life when I can remember having so many friends at school that they could be called a gang. My gang. Not, you know, street violence kind of gang, but kids you hang out with and stuff."

"I understand."

Dean grinned a little and glanced at Paul before focusing his eyes back on nothing, seeing school buses and hidden packs of cigarettes and Friday night parties after the football games he didn't really give a shit about. He just went because his friends did. "My dad was working a long, long case involving a Chaos cult we'd followed across the country. He took me on hunts sometimes, but I wasn't that heavily involved yet. Not like I am now. I had a lot of time to hang out, when I wasn't looking after Sammy.

"There was this kid Billy... he was my best friend. And we, uh... we became... romantically involved. He was my, my first... with a guy."

Considering that, Paul simply replied, "Ohhh." He started to try to fill in the blanks himself in his head. Things went bad? They broke up? Imagine Dean being a teenage boy, just finding out he's bi, and his first boy/boy relationship goes sour. No wonder... "Did you love him?"

Dean took another one of those long, contemplative pauses before he answered a quiet, "Yeah." What he added next, Paul hadn't expected. "I just couldn't save him. I tried, but I couldn't save him."

"Did he die?" Paul said, surprised.

"Yes. But by that time, he deserved it."

If Paul thought he was shocked before... "Dean, what are you talking about?"

Dean shook his head. "Paul, he murdered a bunch of people. Billy stabbed them to death. For thrills. I knew he had an obsession with horror and violence, but I never thought he would take it that far... until he did. Some of those people he killed were my friends.

"I'd met a lot of demon hunters by then, and many of them were odd, obsessed with knives and guns and ways to kill things, so it didn't seem so weird when Billy was like that. Kids act weird and talk about death just to get attention... people say they're going to kill someone they're mad at and they rarely mean it. I didn't think he'd really do it.

"I should have told someone about Billy when Mrs. Prescott was murdered. I knew there was a chance he did it, really went and did it, but is that really enough to make a big deal of? A hunch? They had a major suspect and everything. Who was I supposed to tell anyway? My dad hated cops, he didn't trust them at all. And my dad... I was afraid to tell him, afraid he would know..." Dean started to shake his head. "If I talked to him about Billy, would he know about us, would he be able to tell? And what would he do?"

Sympathetically rubbing Dean's shoulders and upper back, Paul shook his head too. "Sounds like you were caught between a rock and a hard place. It wasn't your fault that he hurt anybody."

Dean looked at him. "But I might've been able to stop it, Paul. If I'd been there, if I hadn't run, I could've stopped it. It should have been me who put Billy down like a rabid dog. Not that poor girl. The deaths have followed her around for years since she shot Billy in the head, but it shouldn't have been her. It should've been me. That's what I do, Paul. I take down the monsters. I ran and I failed."

Paul's face was troubled as he pulled Dean close to him, hugging him to his body. After a few seconds, Dean hugged him back. "I'm sorry that you feel responsible. It wasn't your fault, Dean."

Dean gratefully drank in Paul's comfort in silence, something inside telling him he didn't deserve it. For Paul's sake, he tried not to listen. "That's why I tried to kill myself. I was responsible."

Letting out a groan, Paul moved back and took Dean's face in his hands. "Oh, God... I'm glad you didn't succeed. You don't deserve to die for what Billy did, Dean. You don't." He kissed Dean's mouth and cheeks.

"My dad has tried to tell me that a hundred times. Dad and Sammy. None of you will ever understand." Dean's eyes glimmered, but he wouldn't let himself cry.

Paul, holding the tears back as well, pulled Dean against him again.

They held each other, not speaking, for almost a full minute, just rocking softly and stroking each other's hair, until Dean broke the silence. "What about you?"

Paul's eyes had been closed; now they opened in surprise. "Me?"

"Your suicide attempt."

The two men separated to lean back and look at each other. Paul, having almost forgotten that he had his own story to confess, seemed caught off guard. His mouth hung open slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "Oh, yeah... my turn. Uh, how to make this the short story..."

"I'll take the long version if necessary," Dean assured.

"It's okay. You only need to hear the basics. I once took Evie's son Matty to the park to play, and - "

"Matthew?"

Paul shook his head. "Mateo."

"Hm, cool name. I didn't know Copzilla was married."

"She's not, they're divorced."

"Oh." Dean tapped Paul's knee with the backs of his fingers. "Anyway, you took Matty to the park..."

"Yeah. And when I took my eyes off him for a couple of seconds, he disappeared."

"Shit," exclaimed Dean.

Nodding, Paul continued, "A woman grieving over the death of her own child had kidnapped him. But we didn't know that at the time. I'd been seeing Tommy's ghost off and on for two weeks straight, including at the same time that Matty was taken; it made me think that Tommy might know something. So I decided that I needed to talk to him.

"Keel and I got this doctor friend of his to help us. We lowered my body temperature with an ice bath and he injected me with a lethal combination of drugs that would stop my heart - "

Eyes widening, Dean interrupted him with, "Wait, wait, hold up. You killed yourself so you could talk to Tommy?"

"Yeah."

"Hello? Ever heard of a Ouija board?" His tone was sarcastic and disbelieving, not just because what Paul had done was extreme, but also because it horrified him that Paul had come close to death when there were other ways to speak to the dead. Dean might've never met him if things had turned out differently.

"We tried that. Tommy said he couldn't tell me what I needed to know unless I met him on the other side," explained Paul, and added ominously, "He wasn't alone in there."

"What about the psychomantium?"

"Wasn't built yet."

"Aren't you a medium?"

"The kid doesn't come when called."

"A necromancer?"

"They exist?"

Dean sighed. "Okay, whatever, you needed to die to talk to Tommy's ghost. What was your great plan for how you were going to be resurrected?"

"After four minutes, the doctor was supposed to restart my heart. The low body temperature and the length of time would keep me from coming out of it brain damaged."

"You were already brain damaged, even trying an insane plan like that."

Looking a little perturbed, Paul challenged, "If it had been your brother who was in danger, you'd be all for me trying it."

"If my brother had been in danger, I would have found another way to save him than risking your life."

"You make it sound so easy," Paul said, rolling his eyes.

Dean was obviously exasperated. "Either way, you did it, and no matter how crazy it was, it worked somehow, or you wouldn't be here."

"Exactly. Tommy gave me the clues we needed to figure out where Matty was, and he was recovered safe and sound."

"Okay. If you planned to come out of this alive, then how was it a suicide attempt?"

Lowering his head in shame, Paul said, "I didn't want to come out of it alive." He glanced at Dean for a moment, then looked away again. "Of course I wanted to bring good news back to Evie that would help her find her son, but deep down, a part of me just couldn't take it anymore. Everything in my life had fallen apart. This innocent child had given his life to save mine, and I felt guilty about it. Everyone kept telling me I was special, that I lived for a reason, but I couldn't find any reason." Remembering how he'd felt back then brought some of those feelings back for him; Paul leaned his elbows on his knees and put his forehead in his hands, hiding his face. "A part of me wished they wouldn't be able to revive me. I just wanted the pain to end."

Dean rubbed the back of Paul's neck. "I know how that feels. It's understandable, babe, after all you'd been through."

Paul's head snapped up. "It's not understandable, it was cowardly and selfish! If I had stayed dead, Evie might've never found Matty, and Keel and the doctor probably would have gone to prison for helping me kill myself. Not to mention the fact that my religion kind of frowns on suicide. When I think back, sometimes I even wonder how I could have done something so ludicrous."

A hand on Paul's knee, Dean began to massage the back of his neck again as he tried to comfort him. "I understand why you're conflicted about what you did. But most people don't think about the real cost of their suicide while they're plotting it and carrying it out. We just think about making the pain end." He gave Paul's head a playful little shake. "You gotta stop beating yourself up over it.

"Keel doesn't seem to be mad at you for putting him in that position. Tommy willingly came back to help you. They've forgiven you for what happened. Maybe you should work on forgiving yourself."

Smirking, Paul put his forehead against Dean's and said, "Look who's talking."

For a second, an irritated expression crossed Dean's face, but it quickly gave way to a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Dude, shut up."

They sat with their heads together for a short time while Dean rubbed Paul's knee, his hand slowly moving higher and higher up his thigh. Lips close, tiny kisses shared, and soon they weren't thinking about their pain anymore.

The kisses turned passionate, long and lingering, breath becoming quick between each press of the lips. At some point, they had wrapped their arms around each other and Paul found Dean's hand on his fly. The fingers pressed down hard on his crotch and he moaned. Dean rubbed down the growing lump of Paul's erection. Then he undid the other man's pants, one-handed, and started pulling them down.

"See?" Dean said between kisses. "Told you. Another thing to undo."

Paul helped him push his pants down until he was sitting there in his underwear with his pants around his knees. "Guess that's all you wanted to talk about?"

Dean chuckled into another kiss.

Once Paul's pants had fallen to his ankles, Dean suddenly stopped and got up off the bed. "I'll be right back," he said.

Paul made a displeased face. "What, you didn't like the pants either?"

"Nah, I'm really trying to get you in the sack this time. It's just that the instructions say it's easier to put it on if you're semi-erect." He picked up his duffel bag.

"Put what on?"

Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "You'll see."

He ducked into the closet, closing the folding doors behind him. A few seconds later, Dean opened one door a little and tossed out his jeans; Paul caught them. A few more seconds and the underwear followed.

"Hm. What are you doing in there?" Paul asked.

"Feel me and see," replied Dean.

Paul dipped into his emotional center, not surprised to find him turned on. It seemed he was getting more aroused by the second; was he touching himself? "Would you come out already?"

"Coming." Dean tossed out the duffel bag just to get it out of the way, then pushed both doors open and leaned invitingly against the doorjamb. He struck a pose worthy of a Playgirl model, one arm behind his head and back arched, lips puckered, totally overdoing it. Paul's eyes didn't spend much time examining Dean's face, though. They were on his cock.

Dean was wearing some sort of strappy thing that made his erection stand up as if it was beckoning to Paul to come and get it. One leather strap had been fastened around the base of his cock and behind his balls, snug against his body; another was wrapped cozy around the top of his scrotum; and the third tautly circled the base of his cock in front of his balls. The front and back straps snapped together on the top of Dean's cock, which is what made it stand up so enticingly. The straps weren't so tight that they would cause him pain, but pleasure.

Mouth gaping and eyes wide, Paul blurted, "What's that?!"

Dean smiled mischievously. "A cock ring. A triple cock ring."

"Oh wow... I've never seen one like that." Paul couldn't stop staring at it. "It makes your... makes it look... damn, that's sexy."

Snickering, Dean brought out his other hand. In it, he held a leather cuff studded all around with flat silver studs and on one side, a blue jewel shaped like a heart. The cuff had a chain attached to it with a leather loop at the end. Dean held the looped strap and started to spin the chain around his finger, flinging the cuff around in a circle. "I got one for you, too."

Paul stared at the circling cuff. "You're going to put that on me?"

"Yeah. It'll look gorgeous on you."

"Well, uh, I... wow. Where did those come from? You're not telling me you snuck out last night and bought them?"

Laughing a little, Dean sauntered over closer to the bed. "No. I must confess, I already had them. But no one's worn this one but me." He dangled the studded cuff in front of Paul. "You know what they do, don't you?"

Paul nodded vigorously. "They restrict the flow of blood a bit, which makes your orgasm more intense."

"Mm-hmmm." After tossing the cuff on the bed, Dean put his hands on either side of Paul's head, lightly stroking his hair with the tips of his fingers, and arched his hips so his cock stood erect right in Paul's face. "Do you like it?" he asked in a deep, soft voice.

Paul, a helplessly excited look in his eye, nodded again. "It looks so good on you. Your... it's all presented, like a gift." He laughed nervously. "It's saluting me."

"What's saluting you?"

After a pause, Paul bashfully said, "Your cock."

"Mm, I love getting those dirty words out of you. You don't say that stuff all the time, do you?"

"No. Only for you," Paul said with a coy smile.

"That's right. Only me." Leaning forward, Dean brushed the head of his cock against Paul's lips. "You wanna take a walk around in my pleasure center and feel what this is doing to me?"

"I already know just from looking at you." He watched Dean tremble as his breath passed over his cock. "But I won't refuse the invitation."

They both moaned as Paul touched the center of the origin of Dean's passion with his empathy, Dean from feeling Paul caressing him from within, Paul from experiencing how good that cock ring felt through Dean. He immediately licked the head of Dean's cock. They both shuddered from the delicious shockwaves that created. Paul slid his mouth down onto it, sucking enthusiastically. Dean moaned, eyes half-closed. Unable to help it, he thrust his cock deeper into Paul's mouth; Paul made a surprised noise and almost choked, but pulled his head back an inch to readjust his position.

"Sorry," Dean said, his voice shaking with arousal.

To show the apology was accepted, Paul sucked his cock, bobbing his head up and down slowly two or three times, then showing the cock ring its proper tribute by licking the area all around it.

"Paul," Dean breathed out heavily.

He gave Dean's balls a few minutes of attention, licking them down and sucking each one individually. When Paul ran his tongue close to the cock ring, Dean shuddered hard.

"So good," he moaned shakily.

Paul, kissing the skin at the base of Dean's cock, begged, "Make love to me."

Grinning, Dean looked down at him through half-lidded eyes. Paul said it just like he had in the orange dream. "You want me inside you? Hm?"

Paul looked up at him, holding Dean's cock in his hand and rubbing it against his stubbly cheek. "Very much."

Dean stroked Paul's hair with his fingertips again. "You want it slow?"

"Yeah. Real slow."

"Make me some room."

Grinning eagerly, he moved back on the bed so Dean could climb on. Dean suddenly grabbed Paul's ankles and yanked him toward him so fast that Paul fell on his back, his head almost hanging off the end of the bed. Paul yelped in surprise. Chuckling, Dean jerked Paul's underwear off and tossed them aside.

"Did you enjoy that?" Paul asked, lifting his head.

"Fuck yeah."

As Paul leaned up on his elbows, Dean picked up the cuff and, turning back to Paul, smiled at him with mischief in his eyes. "You ever wear one of these before?"

It was obvious he hadn't expected that question. Paul's eyes shifted to the right and then to the left, looking anywhere but at Dean's face. "Um, no."

"Oh ho!" Dean smacked the side of his hip, getting as close to his ass as he could. "You're lying. Don't be embarrassed."

"If you want to hear about it, I'll tell you, but later, okay? We're both kinda worked up here. It's not story time." While he spoke, Paul laid back down and stroked his hands up and down Dean's muscled chest.

"Okay, but don't assume I'll forget, 'cause I won't. Come 'ere, you cock ring maven." Dean liked how Paul rolled his eyes at the nickname, but enjoyed it even more how he moaned and closed his eyes when Dean took hold of his half-hard cock and wrapped the cuff around him, behind his balls, all snugly up against his body. He pushed the snap together with a satisfying snick sound and then admired how it looked. "Hmm." Dean held up the leather strap, jingling the chain. "It's so fancy. Goes with the rest of your wardrobe."

Paul rolled his eyes again. "It feels kinda good," he breathed.

"Supposed to, Metrosexual. Just wait. You're just going to get more and more sensitive... and hard... but you know that, right?"

An embarrassed expression crossed Paul's face; Dean snickered and pulled the chain just a little. "Look at the collar my pet is wearing." Tugging the chain once more, he said, "Whose pet cock is this?"

Paul, having observed several claiming rituals during their lovemaking already, understood that it turned Dean on to hear that the person he was sleeping with belonged to him. Although the words he had used were playful, Paul knew that Dean meant it; he wanted to hear that even if Paul did sleep with another person again, he would still be Dean's conquest, that Dean would always be in the back of his mind. Paul wasn't sure at this point that it wasn't all true. He said without any hint of joking in his voice, "It's your cock, Dean."

For a second, the surprise was evident on his face, but Dean quickly recovered, looking confident and arrogant. "Damn straight."

Paul grinned to himself. "You should put that strap around your wrist since it belongs to you."

This time, Dean looked positively shocked. His expression soon turned to arousal as he followed Paul's advice and put the leather loop on the end of the chain over his hand and down to his wrist like this was a leash. He leaned down, putting his other hand behind Paul's head, and gave him a long, slow kiss. Paul brought his head up to meet him. Heat exploded through his crotch at that kiss, and the feeling was incredible. He choked back a whimper at how good it felt when his cock got a bit harder.

Dean looked for a long time at Paul's cock with that studded ring on it before giving him another, shorter kiss. "It looks beautiful on you," he said in all seriousness.

Paul also looked, then shifted his eyes further down to see that Dean couldn't get any harder. He stared longingly at it. "Yours, it... it's so damn sexy on you. I want you inside me with it on right now." Beginning to pant, he licked his lips.

Heat in his eyes, Dean hunted around with his free hand for the bottle of lube. It was still on the bed, and he didn't have much trouble getting it open, as he'd done this sort of thing, even one-handed, before. After he'd gotten some on his hand, Paul helped by closing the bottle (even aroused, the thought of it leaking out all over his bedspread bothered him enough to think of it). Dean reared back and got each of Paul's calves up on his shoulders, then moved up closer to his head so Paul's bottom came up off the bed. Paul breathed quick and loud in anticipation. As he could hardly wait either, Dean slathered the lube where it needed to go quickly, inserting two fingers. Paul took a sharp breath and moaned softly. He slicked Paul up for about twenty seconds, fingers sliding in and out, before Paul reached the limits of his patience.

"Dean, now! Take me now!"

"Uh..." Dean realized he'd forgotten to get a condom. "I just need a condom."

"Don't, Dean, I want to feel you cum inside me!"

The words short-circuited the parts of Dean's brain that were in charge of his sensible thinking. It didn't help how needy and turned on and sexy Paul sounded when he said them. All he could do in response was freeze and let out a growl.

"Dean, please, please, fuck me!"

Dean took out his fingers; his hand went to his dick.

"Shove it in!"

As he snarled those words, Paul opened the empathic floodgates between them. Dean felt all of Paul's arousal as well as his own. The intense pleasure moving through Paul's cock without even being touched, the tremble inside him, and the overwhelming throb of need coursing up and down his spine. All thoughts of being too dirty for Paul left Dean's head and he growled through his teeth as he rammed his cock down inside him, pushing up on his legs at the same time that he bent Paul's back a little more. Paul's feet were currently up in the air and his head bent back over the end of the bed as he let out a snarly howl, gripping Dean's muscular arms hard. Dean realized that the top strap of his cock ring now touched the rim of Paul, and he couldn't exactly remember how he'd gotten in that deep. All he recalled was heat and need and an explosion of pleasure.

Dean felt pain as well as passion coming off of Paul now, so he eased off a little, slowly, lowering him closer to the bed. Paul's spread legs now touched Dean's upper arms, making it easier for him to lean down and kiss Paul if he wanted to. "Did I hurt you?" Dean asked.

Paul just shook his head. "Don't move, don't move. Let me feel you for a second." Closing his eyes, Paul drank in all of Dean's emotion and pleasure through the link between them. The look on his face was pure ecstasy. "I love the way you feel when you're inside me."

Dean knew he wasn't just referring to the physical way it felt to have Dean inside him, but the emotional way it felt, too. The way Dean felt that only a person with Paul's abilities could experience. "I love being inside you," he added instantly.

Paul put a hand on Dean's chest, over his heart. "I know."

Dean did not respond in words, but by lying on top of Paul and wrapping his arms around him, kissing him hard on the mouth. One hand slid into the hair at the back of Paul's head and held him close as they kissed, bodies rubbing together. His back and ass flexing, Dean began a slow, intense grind with his hips, sliding in and out. The two men arched toward each other within seconds. Moaning softly, Paul bent his head back and closed his eyes. Dean reached for his cock, but Paul pushed his hand off of it, moaning, "Nnno..." Getting the empathic feedback from him, Dean quickly realized that he must want to experience the cock ring doing its work without any help but the passion between them. Dean decided to do his part by sliding his hands under Paul and gripping his behind, squeezing and pulling him against him each time he thrust into Paul's body. Dean's lips went to his neck, where he licked, kissed, sucked, and nipped, knowing that Paul liked it. Trembling all over, Paul moaned and murmured in response.

After half a minute of moving together like a finely tuned machine, both moaning and panting and crying out, Paul grabbed at the muscles in Dean's back; his fingers traced down the well-defined middle to his lower back, lingering there before sliding down and squeezing his ass in his hands. Paul pulled Dean closer to him each time he thrust so he slid into Paul up to the hilt again, over and over. Over the sound of his own grunts and moans, Dean heard Paul cry out his name in the desperation of someone who wanted sexual release. "Dean... Dean!"

"Mmm, Paul! You feel good!"

"Aaaaahhh, yes!"

"Take it!" Thrust, thrust. "Take it, baby!"

Mouth open and panting, Paul cried, "Cum inside me! I wanna... feel it... Dean!"

Paul opened the empathic link again, and soon Dean didn't know where his arousal began and Paul's ended. He tried to fuck slowly, but Paul telling him to cum inside him set him off and Dean started to move faster. "Grrraaah, Paul!" His hips ground in a circular, thrusting motion. The cock ring did its work and Dean found himself feeling on the brink of cumming but lasting longer than he thought he could; making sweet love to a guy like Paul that turned into hard fucking should be enough to make any bi man cum. That feeling of impending orgasm carried out at least a minute longer than it should have lasted was one of the most incredible things Dean had ever felt, but it took second place to having Paul's need for gratification shooting up and down his spine, his warm affection rolling around in Dean's head and heart. Dean didn't think there could ever be anything bad about that empathic link as long as he could feel all of Paul within his soul.

The throbbing of his cock brought Dean up higher, pulling Paul's bottom up off the bed; he bent Paul's back a bit more as he had when he thrust inside him, bringing his legs up into the air. Grunting and snarling Paul's name, Dean bared down into him, delivering hammering thrusts. The lube made wet squelching sounds with every motion. Paul braced his hands on the end of the bed because, despite Dean's weight on top of him, he feared the position might cause them both to roll head over heels off of it. His mouth hung open in an endless string of cries.

"Uhhh! Fuck! Me! Hard!" were the only words Dean could understand, besides his own name.

Dean watched Paul's cock and balls shake and bob with the movement of their lovemaking/fucking. If Paul didn't cum in his own face, something Dean would like very much to see, he was going to suck that cock and feel it cum all over him, doing every damn dirty thing he could think of to this beautiful, teasing, honorable, sexy little -

Dean growled and came inside Paul, crying out his name. He nursed his own orgasm with quick thrusts, drawing out the pleasure as long as possible. While panting, he murmured, "Yeah, baby... you take it so good... mmmm..."

Paul, along for the ride, closed his eyes and just felt the heat and wetness inside him, just as he'd asked for.

Once Dean was spent, he slowly stopped moving and started to pull out. Paul instantly wrapped his legs around him.

"No," Paul begged, taking hold of Dean's arms in an effort to pull him closer. "Hold me. Stay inside me until you go soft."

Without question, Dean did as he asked, wanting more of that emotional exchange between their minds. They shared a kiss, lying side by side, and then Dean looked down. "You're still hard."

"There's time for that."

"Cum all over me," Dean whispered. He licked the tip of his finger and ran it over the head of Paul's cock, circling it, rimming it.

Paul shuddered deliciously.

He cupped Paul's balls in his hand, massaging them. Paul let out a small cry. "Cum all over me, or I'll pull out and suck you off," Dean threatened. It wasn't much of a threat, as either way, Paul won, but Paul wanted to please his lover. Helping him along, Dean licked his finger again and slowly circled the rim of Paul's cock head, paying special attention to the underside. Paul moaned, more desperately.

"Keep rubbing there," he begged.

"Hm, yeah... I know what you like," Dean said. He laid Paul's head on his chest and continued to touch him so simply, curious if he could get Paul off with just the touch of one finger. The cock ring certainly helped, but Dean knew most of the effort was his. He stepped up the rhythm, stroking that sensitive spot rapidly until Paul panted and moaned again. Through their link, Dean felt how close he was to orgasm, and how sensitive Paul's cock was because of the cuff around it. Grinning to himself, Dean cradled Paul's head against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his heavy breaths on his skin, and brought him closer and closer to cumming.

"Come on, baby... cum for me," he encouraged.

Paul's response was a moan and a tighter grip on his arm.

Dean surmised that Paul would have cum at least a full minute before he did, but the cock ring put him in a holding pattern, prolonging it. That extended, building hum of sexual pleasure coming off of him, like a generator working up to a violent explosion, could have made Dean hard again if he'd let it. He loved the way Paul's moans built in intensity and volume as his orgasm built within him. His legs tightened around Dean's waist and he moved up and down on the cock still inside him just by instinct. Dean chuckled and growled playfully.

"You're so eager to be fucked, aren't you? Hm?" Dean teased.

"Uh huh," Paul panted. He bucked his cock up against Dean's hand.

"Patience, my pet." He tugged on the ring's chain. "There's much more where that came from."

Used to doing the "fuck and run," Dean marveled for a moment at what he'd just said. He kept promising Paul that there would be more. The most amazing thing was that he desperately wanted to keep those promises.

Paul wasn't fully aware of the reason behind the comforting warmth coming off of Dean now, but he liked it, liked it so much that he fell over the edge. His cum splattered them both, shooting all over Dean's hand and chest. One string made it as high as Dean's lips, another landing across the underside of Paul's chin. Reduced to a quivering, panting mess, Paul gave in to his physical need and rode the wave of sexual gratification in Dean's arms.

Their breathing was beginning to calm down when Paul noticed the rope of cum lying across Dean's lips. He was just starting to lick it off but Paul went for it, and they shared a deep tongue kiss. Just the sight of those luscious lips tinged with the result of their lovemaking...!

In return, Dean licked Paul's chin clean; it reminded him of doing this very thing in the orange dream, except that in the dream, it had been sticky juice from the fruit they shared that ran down Paul's chin. He held Paul in his arms, running his fingertips through his hair, while Paul licked his chest and stomach off. This may become their after-sex ritual, they both enjoyed it so much.

They held each other a moment longer. Somewhere, Dean's cell phone began to ring. He wasn't even sure where his jacket was at this point, but the phone was in the pocket of it. Both men groaned softly; Dean rolled over on his back. "That's probably Sammy. He'll have to leave a voice mail and I'll call him back. My legs are like Jell-O right now." Without a word, he reached over and unsnapped Paul's cock ring. Paul jerked in surprise. While explaining, Dean removed his own ring too. "You're not supposed to leave them on longer than twenty minutes."

"Oh."

He paused before adding, "You wanna keep that one? It could be yours."

A smile warmed up Paul's face. "Okay." He wished they could snuggle a while longer, but knew they'd have to get cleaned up and head into the office as soon as they could.

Dean gave a good, long stretch. "So... where'd you learn to top from the bottom like that?"

"Wha... top from the bottom?"

"Where the guy on the bottom has most of the control."

Looking confused, Paul said, "How did I...?"

"Oh, come on, Metrosexual, think about it."

He rolled his eyes and conceded defeat. "Okay, maybe I did. That's been said before." He took the cuff off completely and placed it on the bed. "You wanted to know when I'd worn one of these things in the past?"

Nodding, Dean turned over on his side, facing him.

"There was a guy in college who kept pursuing me. He was very flattering and just wouldn't give up. I knew that I wanted to become a priest at that time, and that eventually I'd be taking a vow of celibacy." Paul's tone grew sheepish out of embarrassment. "The guy offered to fulfill a fantasy for me if it meant he could get me in bed. I was curious... and I was going to be a priest... it could be my only chance at one night of wild sexual abandon. That's the way you think in college," he laughed.

"How'd it go down?" Dean asked.

"We were both at the same party one night and I had a lot to drink... I can't hold hard liquor well."

"I'll remember that," Dean said, grinning.

Paul shot a scolding look at him before going on. "He approached me and made yet another pass at me... and I gave in. It was the first time a guy ever... acted as the top to my bottom."

"Woo-ooh." Dean loved the color that came into Paul's cheeks. "Look how embarrassed you are. It's cute."

"Yeah, well... I got a bit of a surprise. He was into bondage."

Laughing, Dean slapped Paul on the hip. "You are just full of surprises. I bet you liked it."

Paul shrugged. "Some of it. I don't get a few of the toys he brought out. Anyway, he put a cock ring on me. One that locked."

Dean laughed even harder. "I had no idea you were this kinky."

"Oh, shut up."

Suddenly, Dean stopped laughing and furrowed his brow. "A locking cock ring?" He looked quite irritated by that. "He claimed you."

"I guess. But it was, like, thirteen years ago." Paul sat up.

Dean sat up too. "What's this guy's name?"

Surprised, Paul just stared at him. "Why do you want to know that?"

Dean, leaning over the bed, took Paul's face in his hands and kissed him so hard that Paul felt like his entire body was melting. "You're mine," he declared.

Emotions swirled through Paul so fast that he didn't know what to say. He cleared his throat and tried to speak. "Uh, we should take showers and get to SQ. Separate showers, or we'll never get out of here."

No matter. Dean would get the name out of him in time. "Sure."

Paul got up and, halfway to the bathroom, was stopped again by Dean. "Were you and Georgia talking about me before I got here?"

Looking back at him, Paul nodded.

"Thought so." He paused. "If you wanna have a threesome with her or something, I'd be all for it."

Paul gaped in shock. "Dean, she's like a sister to me."

"Oh. Oh, yeah, okay. I just wanted to make the offer in case you two were, you know, friends with benefits."

After a moment to shake it off, Paul chuckled and shook his head. "You're insatiable."

Dean watched him disappear into the bathroom. He finally got up, fished his cell phone out of the pile of clothes, and called his brother.

"Hey Sammy. ...Yeah, it went okay. Paul and I will be there in half an hour. ...God, I'm starved. Whadda ya want for lunch?"

*****

"Did your conversation go okay?" Sam was asking into his cell phone.

Although Sam was sitting right on the other side of the desk from him, Alva pretended he wasn't there as to not eavesdrop on his conversation. He just continued picking through the Hemography file, looking for interesting possible parallels he could ask Dean about during the interview. Alva, so excited and focused on the task, hadn't considered for a second that Dean might refuse.

"Jeez, what are you guys doing that's taking so long?" Sam questioned, playing innocent. Despite what Georgia had said, Sam wasn't completely over his bitterness for not being told something so profound about his brother. One talk wasn't going to whitewash over this; it would take time.

Obviously Dean considered this a rhetorical question, just little brother bitching about them taking too long, because he didn't answer it. Instead, he asked Sam what he wanted for lunch. Pouting slightly, Sam said, "I don't know," and looked at Alva. "What do you feel like for lunch, Mr. Keel?"

"Oh, I suppose Chinese would be good."

Sam said into the phone. "Chinese. Get me some of that kung pao stuff. And quit dawdling around, whatever you're doing."

After he'd hung up, Sam resumed trying to piece back together the shards of ceramic on the desk before him.

"Evie should get back with Matty just in time for..." Alva had looked up. "What are you doing there, Samuel?"

He looked up too. "Got any glue?"

*****

When Paul dressed again, he did not put on the sweater vest.

Dean brought up something they hadn't yet discussed on the way to SQ. "You know, we got something kinda serious we need to talk about. Paul... not that I don't enjoy the sensation, but I'm not sure it's such a good idea for us not to be using condoms." He paused long enough to look at Paul, who glanced back, then gazed out at the road. He seemed embarrassed. "I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with... I mean, I get checked out every few months and I'm sure you're a clean guy, but... I mean, as much as I fuck around..."

Paul looked at him sharply. A stab of jealousy came through the empathic link to Dean, and he sighed. Then Paul seemed to relax somewhat, as if realizing that Dean did indeed have a life before he met him. "You're probably right. I just... I needed... I wanted to feel your skin on mine while we made love. To feel your climax."

Something about that desire touched him, making Dean smile to himself. "I get that." They shared a long look, staring into each other's eyes while the car was stopped at a red light. "I could make a visit to the doctor, get checked out."

A pause, and Paul shrugged. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to be so reckless. You're right, it isn't sensible."

Another long pause as Dean slipped his arm across the seat and began to massage the back of Paul's neck. "This thing we got is complicated," he joked. "Maybe we should just go back to fucking."

Although he laughed, Paul gazed at Dean for a long time with a wistful look in his eye.

Dean, seeing it, gave his neck a squeeze. He added, "I like when you ask me to make love to you. It's... it's what you deserve."

This seemed to make Paul happy, and he put his hand over Dean's just to touch him.

*****

"Soup's on!" Dean cried as he and Paul walked into the SQ office, carrying the take-out containers of Chinese food.

Sam looked at them nervously. "Hi you two. Wow, that smells good."

They placed the food on the conference table. "Whatcha been doing, Sammy?" Dean noticed the ceramic mug drying on the desk. "Arts and crafts?"

"Huh? Oh, never mind that, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Dean, hungry, started to lay out the paper plates.

Looking at Paul, Sam remembered the conversation he'd had with Georgia, about trying not to hurt him. It was for a completely different reason, but Sam knew this could cause Paul pain if the subject wasn't breached properly. "Outside," he added.

Dean looked at his brother. They seemed to speak to each other through their identically colored eyes. "Okay. Be right back." The two men stepped outside onto the metal staircase behind SQ.

Paul watched them go, then looked at Alva. "What's that about?"

Shrugging, Alva replied, "Mr. Winchester should probably tell you."

Dean walked a few steps down the stairs. "What's up, Sammy?"

Sam peered back into the doorway to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Mr. Keel has a whole file about the 'God is Nowhere' thing."

"Yeah, we knew that already."

Sam continued, "In it, there are details about various dreams that the others had. A woman named Danielle Franklin had the same dream you had last night."

Freezing, eyes going wide, Dean stared at his brother. "Shit."

"I told Mr. Keel and Evie that you had the same dream."

Dean looked like he wanted his brother to choke on his kung pao chicken. "What did you tell them?"

"I was sitting there reading this file and there was your dream, most of the details exactly the same. I had to say something, Dean. I told them how we came upon this scene where Paul's father was sitting at a sidewalk cafe with a fountain nearby, and how Paul got mad and the water turned red. I didn't tell them about the Apocalypse or Paul's mother being there."

"At least there's that."

Sam added, "I told them you would fill in the details."

Angry but still joking, Dean drew back a hand like he was going to hit him. "Sammy, I could..."

"I didn't say what details! You can choose to tell them whatever you want."

"Gee, thanks." Running a hand through his hair, Dean sighed. "The position you've put me in..."

He decided to get it out of the way first thing, especially since Keel was standing right there, looking at him like he expected to hear something from him. "Paul? There's something I've got to tell you."

When Dean said that he'd had the sidewalk cafe dream, Paul gasped. Dean felt the bolt of fear go through Paul's insides. He told him about the dream, except the facts he intended to keep from him for now.

Sam spoke directly to Paul. "We'll all be there with you, Paul. Dean, Mr. Keel, and I. Evie too, probably."

Paul had taken a seat, looking pale and shocked. Now he raised his head with a little hope in his eyes. "You'll all be there with me?"

"Yeah."

"That detail wasn't in Danielle's dream."

Dean reached out and touched his arm. "It was in mine."

Paul went to touch him back, but pulled his hand back suddenly when it occurred to him where they were. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Trying to smile, Dean shrugged. "We had so many things to discuss, there wasn't time yet."

Paul swallowed hard. "What does my father look like?"

"I don't know, ba - uh... Paul. There was this force in the dream that directed what my eyes could see. His face was blurred out. I know he had dark hair, though." Relieved, Dean grinned. Sam wasn't going to wind up with a craw full of kung pao chicken and his fist. This had gone a little easier than he thought it would. "That's about it. Let's eat." He sat down next to Paul.

Alva stood on the other side of the table. "May I interview you about your 'God is Nowhere' experiences, Mr. Winchester?"

Sam expected his brother to tell Mr. Keel to go to hell, but there was a softness to the expression in Dean's eyes. When he said, "Yeah, sure. But sometime after lunch," in response, Sam wondered if Dean saw this as a chance to tell Mr. Keel about the more explosive details of the dream. He might know something, after all, as his words from the dream seemed to indicate.

They were about to dish out the food when Alva added, "I'd also like to interview your father."

His fork in the first egg roll, Dean froze and looked up at his brother, who was still standing. They shared a look, and Dean burst out in hearty laughter. Between guffaws, he looked right at Alva and said, "Good luck," then laughed all over again.

Evie came in with Matty in tow just as Dean's laughter was dying down. "Look out everybody, a hyena just escaped from the zoo," she said, and gave Dean a fake smile.

Dean grinned back at her. "Hooray, my best friend is here. And she's got the famous Mateo with her. Paul told me your name."

The child giggled shyly.

"Why would you ever call this kid Matty when he's got a great name like Mateo you could call him instead?"

Evie gave him that sarcastic smile again. "Because he's seven."

Leaning on the table, Sam nudged his brother, saying, "This is why I keep trying to get you to stop calling me Sammy."

Noticing the mug on the desk, Evie picked it up. "Oh, you glued my Mother's Day mug back together. Thank you, Alva."

"I didn't do it." He pointed at Sam.

Sam looked sheepish. "I felt bad for surprising you and making you break it."

"Aw, thanks Sam. That was very sweet." She pointed out an empty seat for Matty, then went to the mini-fridge to get a juice for him and a bottle of water for herself. "It does mean a lot to me."

"That's the mug I got for you, Mommy," Matty said proudly.

"Yes it is." She opened up the water. "Let's just try it out right now."

Pressing the issue, Alva asked, "Is your father hard to reach?"

Dean just started to chuckle again. "You've got a funny boss, Paul. A regular comedian."

"Am I to take that to mean - "

Matty began to giggle without reserve.

They all looked up and saw Evie standing with her mug held out, water pouring out of it from several cracks in the sides. Sam seemed embarrassed; she seemed amused.

"I'm sorry," he said with a cringe. "I didn't see all those gaps."

"It's alright. I can always use it to water the plants."

So far, Paul had been successful at staying in his troubled funk over knowing yet another person had dreamed of him meeting his father under bad circumstances. Once he saw Evie and her watering can mug, he collapsed into snickers and finally enthusiastic laughter.

Dean laughed with him, slapping his knee under the table. Even Alva got a good chuckle out of it.

Sam didn't know when his brother planned to tell him the truth about his relationship with Paul, but one thing he did know - Dean had fallen hard for this man. He would always know that from the light dancing in his brother's eyes when he merely looked at Paul Callan.

That was one thing that could remain unspoken.

(c) 2008 Demented Stuff/The Pleasure of the People