The Darkness, It Wants
Supernatural/Miracles
Dean/Paul
Rated R for m/m sexual content and violence, including several murder scenes
15,380 words (each part is about 5,000 words)
Spoilers for Miracles "Hand of God" and "The Ferguson Syndrome." Spoilers for Supernatural "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1" and the pilot. Spoilers for a classic Star Trek episode I don't know the name of. One scene contains homophobic language.
Summary: In early 2003, Chad Goodwell murdered five people because the voice of God told him to. Sam's visions finally reveal the truth of how the 19-year-old college student was manipulated into destroying so many lives, and who was really behind it all.
The compact machine hummed away as Paul knelt by it, waiting for it to fill the air mattress he'd borrowed from Mrs. Bongiovi for Dean and Sam. Of course, he and Dean wished they could share Paul's bed, but with Sam there, they didn't think it was possible. Sam just sat back on the couch, twisting his hair around his finger, feeling satisfied with himself in a gleefully evil way as he watched his brother pass Paul longing looks he thought were given stealthily. If Dean wasn't going to tell him where he really wanted to sleep that night, Sam was going to milk the naïve routine and have a little fun with it.
"It's going to take that thing at least ten minutes to fill up, Paul. Why don't you come have a seat?" Dean suggested, and patted the couch next to him.
Unsure that was such a good idea, Paul hesitated, but ultimately gave in and took a seat next to Dean. Dean quietly slipped a hand under Paul's rear end. They were sitting close enough that Sam wouldn't be able to see it. Dean gave Paul's bottom a good squeeze. As he was getting used to Dean's touchy-feely nature (also known as his constant groping), Paul kept himself from flinching this time.
Dean spoke conversationally, as if he didn't currently have his hand in a naughty area. "Do you think Keel will get his tape recorder fixed or just buy a new one?"
"Probably buy a new one."
"Will he get that done tomorrow?"
"I imagine." Paul casually laid an arm across the back of the couch. "You're really anxious to do that interview."
"I wouldn't say anxious..."
"I'm actually surprised that you agreed to it. Why do you want to talk to Keel so bad?"
Dean shrugged. "He knows a lot of stuff. Maybe he could shed some light on the things my family has been wondering about for the last twenty years."
That made sense; Paul nodded.
Knowing more than Paul knew, Sam was aware of the other matters Dean wished to discuss with Keel. He wondered what Mr. Keel would say when he found out that Paul's dead mother was supposed to be present at their fateful meeting with Paul's father on the cusp of the end of the world.
"Are you sure you don't want to take my bed?" Paul asked Sam and Dean for the third time that night. "I could sleep on the air mattress."
"Yeah, we know you could, Paul, but for the umpteenth time, we're not going to take your bed," Sam replied. He could tell by the look on Dean's face that he felt the same way. "You've been nice enough to invite us to stay here. We're not going to steal your bed."
"Yeah, the air mattress will be fine," Dean added. He wanted to give Paul a good spanking for harping on the switching of beds; if Dean got a chance to sneak into the same bed as Paul, he didn't want it to be something that would announce every move they made, like a noisy air mattress.
Hell, he just wanted to give Paul a good spanking.
"Okay, that was your last chance," Paul joked with a laugh.
Sam eyed how close Dean and Paul were sitting, and stood up. "I'm going to get ready for bed." He decided to give them a bit of a break, some time to fool around before he came back into the room. Sometimes, Sam felt like a killjoy, being the reason that they had to stay apart. "Can I take a shower?"
Both Paul and Dean started to smile at the thought that they'd have some time alone together, no matter how brief, but quickly tried not to seem so happy about it. "Sure, help yourself."
As soon as Sam closed the door, Dean yanked Paul onto his lap. Paul helped by pouncing on him, straddling his hips with his knees. They collided softly into a deep kiss that was well worth the wait. Immediately, hands went to intimate places and bodies rubbed against each other sinuously.
Paul, already beginning to pant, contradicted himself by saying, "We shouldn't get too worked up," as he pushed up on Dean's t-shirt. He didn't take it off; he couldn't, what with Dean still wearing a button-up shirt over it. But that didn't matter - Paul really just wanted to rub his lover's chest while they kissed.
Dean heard Sam turn on the water. "Sam usually takes ten minute showers. We got some time."
They kissed again, Paul rubbing Dean's nipples. "What do you want to do?"
Growling, Dean squeezed Paul's ass in his hands. "I want to fuck you. Want to fuck you so bad." He ground Paul's crotch against his own. Paul moaned softly. "But we can't take that chance. Doesn't mean we can't pretend." Dean patted Paul's bottom. "Turn around and sit in my lap. Hurry."
Paul did as he was told, his back to Dean now. Taking him by the hips, Dean readjusted Paul until his dick was squarely where he wanted it, although their clothes still separated them. "Can you feel me there?" he asked, easing Paul back to lie on him.
"Uh huh," Paul answered, his voice thick with arousal. "You're really hard."
"Let's pretend I'm inside you." Dean started to rub himself against Paul's ass, simulating that he was fucking him. "You want me inside you, Paul?" When he said 'inside,' Dean bucked up against him playfully.
"I wish you could be more than anything," Paul whispered. He began to move his backside against Dean as he would if they were having sex.
Dean really liked how eager Paul was to fool around, even when it was a quickie. He grabbed Paul's crotch through his pants and began to massage his hardening cock and balls. Paul mewled. "I'm fucking you," Dean breathed into his ear. He used his free hand to undo the first few buttons of Paul's shirt and then dove in, stroking his chest and stomach. As the heat turned up, Dean just fanned the fire, kissing Paul's neck and ear. Paul ran his hand through Dean's hair. "You feel incredible."
Another minute and they were riding the waves of pleasure, both panting, simply bucking against each other as if they were really having sex, Dean pushing Paul down against him while squeezing his cock through his pants, hands everywhere. They tried to be as quiet as they could, keeping their lips busy to stifle errant moans.
Sam got out of the shower without turning off the water. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went over to the door, opening it just a crack. Paul's bathroom was just off the living room; it provided Sam with a good view of what Paul and his brother were doing on the couch. Damn, they couldn't keep their hands off each other for five minutes? He remembered what it was like when he and Jessica first got together... they were just like that. Sam made a face and closed the door. His brother being intimate with someone wasn't on the short list of things he enjoyed seeing, at least not since sometime in his teenage years. Sam had outgrown peeping a long time ago.
Still, seeing Dean in compromising positions with Paul only got him used to the sight, desensitizing him to it, so he wouldn't freak out down the line. Sam could only imagine what Dean would be like when he realized that Sam knew and felt it gave him a green light to make out with Paul openly. He wasn't sure Paul would be comfortable with it, though. Either way, Sam couldn't allow himself to spazz out in reaction to his brother being with a guy. It was just an unfamiliar thing. If Dean thought he was too freaked out about it, it might alienate them from each other, and Sam didn't want that.
He gave them another minute, then turned off the water.
Dean moaned quietly into Paul's neck with every thrust, his rhythm quickening. Faster and faster.
"The water just went off," Paul panted, looking at the bathroom door with alarm.
"He's gotta dry off... dress... gotta minute..." Dean whispered back, and added, "Almost there."
All Paul could think of was getting himself put back together so Sam wouldn't know what had just been happening in his absence. When Dean came, Paul didn't.
Gritting his teeth, Dean made a strangled grunt and held Paul against him, gripping Paul's still hard cock through his pants so tightly that he whimpered in pain as well as arousal. Tingling shockwaves moved up Paul's legs and back. Dean held his breath for several moments as he came, then let it out into Paul's ear with a curt moan. He panted, making, "Mmm..." noises.
In the bathroom, Sam pulled an old T-shirt over his head. He was almost dressed for bed.
"You didn't cum," Dean breathed into Paul's ear.
Paul tried to disentangle himself from Dean, grabbing his hand. With a mischievous grin, Dean refused to let go of his crotch. "It's okay, I'll take care of it. Just leggo."
"Maybe you should go in the bedroom and wait for me, and once Sammy falls asleep - "
Sam took hold of the bathroom doorknob and rattled it to let them know he was coming.
Eyes going wide, Dean flung Paul off his lap. Paul landed on the couch next to him, frantically crossing his legs and simultaneously trying to button his shirt and smooth out his pants at the same time, all while appearing totally casual. Dean yanked down his shirt and draped an arm over his crotch to hide any wet spots that may be showing. They were both a little sweaty and short of breath.
Sam came out of the bathroom, running a towel vigorously through his hair. He stared at his brother and Paul, trying to look relaxed and failing miserably. "Shower's free," Sam deadpanned.
"My turn!" Dean cried, and sprang up off the couch. He grabbed his duffel bag on the way by and disappeared into the bathroom.
Paul attempted to look innocent for half a second before mumbling, "I've got something in..." and scurrying into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Rolling his eyes, Sam checked to make sure the mattress was firm enough, turned off the air pump, and plopped down on the bed. He folded the towel over his pillow and laid back on it to wait for his hair to dry. Sam talked quietly to himself. "Apparently, you attended Stanford, got an excellent score on the LSAT's, but you're still an unobservant dumbfuck." He then spoke to himself in a dopey voice. "Duh, I didn't notice that when I go-ed in the bathroom, everyone was fully dressed, but when I camed out, their clothes was messed up, duuuuh. Why are you panting, Dean? Did you take a lap around the building? Duh hur."
Now alone in his room, Paul locked the door, got a towel and laid back on his bed; he closed his eyes and finished himself off, masturbating while picturing Dean in the shower. Muscled back, water running down the well-defined middle and over his tight buttocks... hands soaping up his chest... mmmm. Paul would have loved to wait for Dean to finish what he'd started, but with Sam in the next room, fully capable of waking up and catching them this time, he didn't feel at all comfortable with it.
While in the shower, Dean was overcome with pleasurable feelings, stroking his mind through the psychic link he had with Paul. It was Paul's way of letting him know that it was better if they just finished now and let it rest for the night. "Damn... oh well, we had our fun, huh baby?" Dean floated on those feelings as he took an extra long shower.
Sam fell asleep while waiting for Dean to come back. He started awake when his brother, dressed for bed, sat on the air mattress next to him. When Sam opened his eyes, Dean was grinning like he knew something as he watched Paul go into the bathroom. "Sorry, I might've used all the hot water," he whispered.
Paul rolled his eyes and waved it off. "I'm not planning to be in here long." He tried to close the door softly.
Sam watched his brother give a mighty, neck-popping stretch, grinning like a maniac. Dean only did that when he'd just engaged in a satisfying hunt or some pretty good sex. "You're a jerk, using up all the hot water," Sam teased.
"Couldn't help it." Dean opened his mouth to finish that thought when his cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID. "Uh oh." With an evil grin, he snapped the phone open and answered the call. "Hey, are you here? Oh, perfect. I'll be right down." Hanging up, Dean stood and headed for the front door. "I'll be downstairs. If Paul comes out, tell him I'm making a call outside because the reception's better in the parking lot."
"Who the hell was that?" Sam asked. It was the second time that day that Dean had stepped outside to take or make a call in secrecy. The first time had been shortly before they left SQ headquarters for the day.
"Savannah. She and Eric just made it. Remember them? I want to check in, make sure they're okay. Don't tell Paul they're here."
"Why the heck not?"
"I'll explain later. Just do it, please?" Dean slowly opened the front door.
Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother. "You're up to something."
Slinking into the hall, Dean peered back around the door and said, "Just do it," through gritted teeth.
"You're not even going to put on any shoes?" Sam called, but in a hushed voice.
Dean just hissed, "Shh!" and closed the door behind him.
As they had previously agreed, Savannah and Eric waited for Dean just outside the parking lot of Paul's building, out of sight. She had to wave at Dean to get his attention. Eric had been leaning on a parking meter, looking a bit mopey as he often did, but once he caught sight of Dean, his face lit up. Out of embarrassment, he tried to hide how much he enjoyed seeing Dean again.
"Hey, how's it going?" Dean gave Savannah a warm hug. "It's been a long time."
"Hey..." She squeezed his neck. "We're okay. How are you, you ol' stud?"
"Same as always." Dean opened his arms and grinned for Eric. He could tell how awkward Eric felt about seeing him again. "Don't I get a hug?"
Biting his thumbnail, Eric hesitated for a moment and then swung an arm around Dean's neck. "Hi Dean," he said quietly.
Dean hugged him, patting his back, making a mental note of how thin Eric felt in his arms. "It's been a while. You feel like you've had about three good meals since then."
Eric tried to laugh it off. He absently picked a string off Dean's T-shirt. "Six."
Dean chuckled.
Not able to help it, Eric added, "You're looking good. Real good."
Savannah smirked.
For some reason Dean couldn't quite figure yet, he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave this option open. He knew that Eric would do anything to satisfy him, all he had to do was snap his fingers, but... "Thanks," was all Dean could think of to say.
"Now, go over it with me again," Savannah began. "Exactly what kind of file do you want me to make?"
Dean explained precisely what he wanted: A file that would be a parody of the one Keel had built on the Winchester family, with Keel as the star. "If you have the chance to get some embarrassing shots, by all means, take all you can. If you see him up to something that doesn't seem quite right, get pictures of that too. He's got a lot of secrets; I want to know what they are. And if he tries to hire you out to take more photos of me and my brother, you play along, but you're really going to screw those shots up. Whatever will throw him off the scent."
"Got it."
"Keel's got two people working with him. I don't care if you get shots of the chick. If she does something boneheaded, I'd probably enjoy seeing it, but she's not the focus of this prank." Dean remembered how Evie had given him so much shit about his weapons. "On second thought, I'd love a few humiliating shots of her. Just for my own amusement."
Snickering, Savannah replied, "Sure."
"Don't take any pictures of the guy who works with Keel. His name is Paul. Dark hair, dresses really nice, kinda uptight - "
"Yeah, I know who you're talking about."
"Good. He's not a part of this. I have no beef with him, so I'd rather you not take any pictures of him. Okay?"
"Whatever you want."
Dean didn't think that Paul would approve of his little joke, so he wanted to keep him out of it as much as possible. "Check in with me every once in a while and let me know how things are going."
"Okay." Savannah rocked on her heels, looking at Dean as if she expected something. She didn't wait long before holding out her hand.
Dean looked at it. "Huh? Oh." He had taken his jacket with him when he came down; now he pulled out his wallet. "I'm gonna give you some cash and a credit card to start off with. I know you'll like this one because it has one of your favorite names on it."
Savannah read the card. "Chris Robinson. Black Crows, sweet."
Grinning, Dean continued, "As soon as I got that one, I thought of you. And it's ideal, because Chris could be your name or his. So you can both use it."
Eric flashed a smile at that too.
"Good deal, Winchester. Hey, we should have a party on this as soon as possible." Savannah wiggled the credit card between her fingers. "You wanna come over once we get a hotel room? Like, say, tomorrow night?"
A small jolt of excited electricity shot up Eric's spine. He hoped Dean would say yes.
"Oh, I don't know... we're working a case here and I'm not sure I can get away. I'll let you know, okay?" Dean's wild, party-loving side pictured him drinking a lot of beer and doing one sibling, then the other, but his loyal, workaholic side said he couldn't do that, he needed to concentrate on his God is Nowhere dreams and the Mothman.
And Paul.
To try to entice him, Savannah drew circles on his chest with her finger as she said, "Sure, you let us know. If you do come, bring one of your guns, okay?"
He appeared confused, furrowing his brow. "Why?"
"'Cause I wasn't lying when I said that guns make me hot." She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "I want you to fuck me with it."
Dean shuddered deliciously just thinking about that. He stared off into space, picturing it, a stunned look on his face.
Savannah added, "Bet you've never done that before."
Seeing the look on Dean's face, and knowing what his sister had said, Eric couldn't help but laugh to himself. "Ewww," he said, and made a face. "You're such a freak, Sav."
Upstairs, Sam was trying to stay awake so he could harangue his brother about what was going on, but he was losing that battle. Just as he was drifting off, a sharp pain stabbed through the spot between his eyes.
Hissing, Sam took hold of the bridge of his nose with two fingers and rubbed, but it didn't help. It rarely did. He opened his eyes and saw Paul's couch stretch and warp until it changed into his vision.
"Hey Chad. Chad, you hear me, faggot?"
A kid, about college age, with brown hair and a harmless-looking face, walked across the parking lot of a movie theatre with a girl of similar age. He was dressed as Dr. Frank-N-Furter from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, complete with a full face of overdone makeup, corset, garter belt, and fishnet stockings. His female friend had dressed as Columbia, gold sparkling jacket and all. They both turned around when the guy in the college letter jacket called to Chad.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"I hear you," Chad replied, trying to put up a brave front. "We'll be late to the movie, Gary." Chad saw that Gary wasn't alone. Two other guys, big guys, flanked him. "We don't want any shit."
All three of them were snickering. "You don't want any shit?" Gary laughed, gesturing to Chad's clothes. "Did you look in the mirror before you left the house?"
The girl spoke up. "Come on, Gary, leave him alone."
"Why are you hanging out with this faggot, Hannah? I mean, look at 'im," one of the others said.
"I'm not a faggot," protested Chad.
Gary responded, "That just makes it worse. You're a tranny, then. What would your mom say if she saw you dressed like that?"
His friends laughed.
"I'm not a transvestite, either."
"We're dressed for The Rocky Horror Picture Show," Hannah offered, trying to help.
"So because you're going to a movie, it's okay to dress like a whore?"
"It's like a costume party," Hannah said. She rolled her eyes. "Let us go before we miss the opening credits."
"But there's too much fun to be had here." Gary walked up and put an arm around Chad's neck. Chad tried to shake him off, but the other guy was too big. "My cousin here thinks he's a funny man."
"Yeah, he posted some shit about the team on Live Journal," one of the other guys said.
"Yeah." Gary pinched Chad's cheek. Chad grimaced and struggled to get away from him. "Apparently, we're all a bunch of nimrods who would rather screw each other in the locker room than play good field hockey." He saw the rouge on his fingers, made a face at it, and wiped it on Chad's clothes. "You thought we wouldn't see that, huh? How did you say it?"
"I think he said something like, 'The team will never see this because they're all too stupid to know how to use a computer.' But, I'm paraphrasing," Gary's friend, Nate, said.
"Wow, I'm impressed, you used the word 'paraphrasing' correctly," Chad spat back before his better judgment could stop him.
Gary punched him in the stomach. Chad doubled over with a loud expelling of breath.
Cringing, Hannah cried, "Come on, Gary. He's your cousin. Save it for the field."
"You know what he wrote about us, Han. Just stay out of it."
"We're not going to do anything to the little faggot that he doesn't deserve," Nate said, and rushed at Chad. He punched upward, connecting with Chad's chin, and knocked him backward onto the ground.
Chad spit out blood. "Stop it," he said, his voice shaking.
"Oh, I think he's gonna cry." The three guys surrounded him, circling like vultures.
"If you don't stop, I'll call the police," Hannah threatened.
"I think you wanna keep your mouth shut, Han. You know why." Gary poked Chad in the chest with his foot. "You say a bunch of crap about us on the Internet and then you go out in public looking like this? And you expect us not to beat you up? I think you're the stupid one, Chad."
"Chadette," Gary's other friend corrected with a laugh.
"Not fair. You got me outnumbered," Chad said. He felt at his mouth and looked at the blood on his fingers.
"Yeah, 'cause you said shit about every one of us."
"We just happen to be getting back at you all at the same time," Nate snickered.
"Guys, come on..." Hannah clearly waffled between going for the police and doing nothing, and Chad had no idea why.
When Chad tried to get up, Gary kicked him in the stomach. That spurred his friends on to join him, all three kicking the boy repeatedly in the chest and midsection. Hannah tried to push one of them aside to get him to stop, which caused him to accidentally kick Chad in the face. Quite a bit of blood spurted from his nose. Chad cried out in pain.
"You guys, quit! He's bleeding really bad!"
"That's the point of beating somebody up, idiot."
Hannah pushed the guy backward and they all argued for half a minute while Chad bled onto the pavement, trying feebly to get up. Suddenly, Gary yelped and pointed to the blood on the ground. "What the fuck?!"
The blood was crawling across the pavement like it was a live thing, moving without the assistance of human intervention. It formed itself into words.
God is Now Here.
"Did you see that?!"
They stared at the blood in shock. They had all seen it. "Holy crap," Nate said.
"It... it was moving on its own!" Hannah cried.
Panting, Chad looked down at his own blood, just as bewildered as everyone else. His pain was temporarily forgotten. His blood had just formed words. On its own. Like the hand of God had just come down and traced out the letters on the ground.
Although the others may forget what happened there that night, Chad would not forget. His life was changed forev
"Sam! Sam!"
Sam came out of the vision with a chest-rattling gasp. His head pounded as well as his heart. But the vision faded, and he could see Paul kneeling over him, shaking his shoulder. He'd been in the grip of the vision long enough for Paul to finish his shower and put on a T-shirt and pajama pants. Sam put a hand to his forehead.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Had a vision." Hissing, he rubbed the space between his eyes.
"Where's Dean?"
"Downstairs. He got... a phone call."
"Can I get you anything? A cold cloth for your head?" Paul asked.
"Yeah, that'd be... grea - " He finished the word by growling the A and then crying out in pain. "Another one. Another vision... is coming!"
"Sam, what should I do? Do you want me to get Dean?"
There was nothing Paul could do. Sam just had to wait the vision out and see what it would show him. Another wave of pain shot through his head and he grabbed Paul's arm just to have something to squeeze, as it was the first thing upon which his hand fell. Out of a need to comfort him, Paul gripped Sam's forearm near the wrist, intending to rub it, whatever he could do to let Dean's little brother know he was there. And suddenly, he was there.
Paul could see what Sam was seeing.
His face beaten up and bandaged, Chad Goodwell sat at a small desk in what seemed to be a dorm room. He didn't notice the black mist coming under the door, forming itself into the shape of a child behind him.
Paul could see Sam standing near him, quietly watching this scene. "Sam?"
Startled, he looked at Paul, astonished that he was there. "What are you doing here?"
"I touched you, and suddenly..." They both looked down to see Paul gripping Sam's arm. "I guess we know something else I can do with the power Diane McNeal gave me."
Sam nodded. "Mr. Keel called it projective clairvoyance." He stared at Paul's hand on his arm again. "It isn't just projective."
Not having any idea what to call this new facet of his power, Paul simply continued, "I'm seeing your vision."
Sam nodded again. "You've never done this before?"
"No." Paul, watching the mist form itself into the shape of Tommy Ferguson, asked, "Can you interact with your visions? We have to stop this. That's Chad Goodwell, and... Tommy? Tommy, listen to me - "
"We can't stop it," Sam replied, shaking his head. "We're seeing the past, Paul. This is retrocognition."
"Tommy, don't tell him to kill anybody! I know you're afraid of the Darkness, but those people aren't going to destroy the world. Don't do it - "
"Paul! He can't hear you!" Sam called, and shook the arm that Paul was holding to get his attention. Paul looked at him, a desperate, stricken look on his face. "We can only observe this. We're seeing the past."
Paul realized he could barely move. "We're not actually here?"
"No."
Tommy said, "Chad?" and the youth turned around, surprised to see a little boy standing in his room.
"But we have to stop this! Tommy is going to tell Chad to kill the God is Nowhere people. I can't just stand here and watch it happen."
"What are you doing in my room? How'd you get in?" Chad was asking.
"Paul, we're not supposed to change what happened," Sam tried to explain. "There's something important we're here to see. Just try and listen, okay?"
"But - " Paul noticed that when Tommy turned his head and the light caught his eyes, the irises looked red, and a small black tear appeared beside his left one. It was gone as quickly as Paul had seen it. "Oh my God... Dean was right. That's not Tommy."
"Tommy," looking about the way he had when Paul met him, pouted sadly at Chad. "My name's Tommy Ferguson. I know who you are and what you mean to the world." He tried a small, warm smile, attempting to be comforting, as he knew what he was about to endeavor to get the college student to accept would be quite unbelievable and upsetting. "We have something very important to discuss."
tbc
Dean/Paul
Rated R for m/m sexual content and violence, including several murder scenes
15,380 words (each part is about 5,000 words)
Spoilers for Miracles "Hand of God" and "The Ferguson Syndrome." Spoilers for Supernatural "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1" and the pilot. Spoilers for a classic Star Trek episode I don't know the name of. One scene contains homophobic language.
Summary: In early 2003, Chad Goodwell murdered five people because the voice of God told him to. Sam's visions finally reveal the truth of how the 19-year-old college student was manipulated into destroying so many lives, and who was really behind it all.
The compact machine hummed away as Paul knelt by it, waiting for it to fill the air mattress he'd borrowed from Mrs. Bongiovi for Dean and Sam. Of course, he and Dean wished they could share Paul's bed, but with Sam there, they didn't think it was possible. Sam just sat back on the couch, twisting his hair around his finger, feeling satisfied with himself in a gleefully evil way as he watched his brother pass Paul longing looks he thought were given stealthily. If Dean wasn't going to tell him where he really wanted to sleep that night, Sam was going to milk the naïve routine and have a little fun with it.
"It's going to take that thing at least ten minutes to fill up, Paul. Why don't you come have a seat?" Dean suggested, and patted the couch next to him.
Unsure that was such a good idea, Paul hesitated, but ultimately gave in and took a seat next to Dean. Dean quietly slipped a hand under Paul's rear end. They were sitting close enough that Sam wouldn't be able to see it. Dean gave Paul's bottom a good squeeze. As he was getting used to Dean's touchy-feely nature (also known as his constant groping), Paul kept himself from flinching this time.
Dean spoke conversationally, as if he didn't currently have his hand in a naughty area. "Do you think Keel will get his tape recorder fixed or just buy a new one?"
"Probably buy a new one."
"Will he get that done tomorrow?"
"I imagine." Paul casually laid an arm across the back of the couch. "You're really anxious to do that interview."
"I wouldn't say anxious..."
"I'm actually surprised that you agreed to it. Why do you want to talk to Keel so bad?"
Dean shrugged. "He knows a lot of stuff. Maybe he could shed some light on the things my family has been wondering about for the last twenty years."
That made sense; Paul nodded.
Knowing more than Paul knew, Sam was aware of the other matters Dean wished to discuss with Keel. He wondered what Mr. Keel would say when he found out that Paul's dead mother was supposed to be present at their fateful meeting with Paul's father on the cusp of the end of the world.
"Are you sure you don't want to take my bed?" Paul asked Sam and Dean for the third time that night. "I could sleep on the air mattress."
"Yeah, we know you could, Paul, but for the umpteenth time, we're not going to take your bed," Sam replied. He could tell by the look on Dean's face that he felt the same way. "You've been nice enough to invite us to stay here. We're not going to steal your bed."
"Yeah, the air mattress will be fine," Dean added. He wanted to give Paul a good spanking for harping on the switching of beds; if Dean got a chance to sneak into the same bed as Paul, he didn't want it to be something that would announce every move they made, like a noisy air mattress.
Hell, he just wanted to give Paul a good spanking.
"Okay, that was your last chance," Paul joked with a laugh.
Sam eyed how close Dean and Paul were sitting, and stood up. "I'm going to get ready for bed." He decided to give them a bit of a break, some time to fool around before he came back into the room. Sometimes, Sam felt like a killjoy, being the reason that they had to stay apart. "Can I take a shower?"
Both Paul and Dean started to smile at the thought that they'd have some time alone together, no matter how brief, but quickly tried not to seem so happy about it. "Sure, help yourself."
As soon as Sam closed the door, Dean yanked Paul onto his lap. Paul helped by pouncing on him, straddling his hips with his knees. They collided softly into a deep kiss that was well worth the wait. Immediately, hands went to intimate places and bodies rubbed against each other sinuously.
Paul, already beginning to pant, contradicted himself by saying, "We shouldn't get too worked up," as he pushed up on Dean's t-shirt. He didn't take it off; he couldn't, what with Dean still wearing a button-up shirt over it. But that didn't matter - Paul really just wanted to rub his lover's chest while they kissed.
Dean heard Sam turn on the water. "Sam usually takes ten minute showers. We got some time."
They kissed again, Paul rubbing Dean's nipples. "What do you want to do?"
Growling, Dean squeezed Paul's ass in his hands. "I want to fuck you. Want to fuck you so bad." He ground Paul's crotch against his own. Paul moaned softly. "But we can't take that chance. Doesn't mean we can't pretend." Dean patted Paul's bottom. "Turn around and sit in my lap. Hurry."
Paul did as he was told, his back to Dean now. Taking him by the hips, Dean readjusted Paul until his dick was squarely where he wanted it, although their clothes still separated them. "Can you feel me there?" he asked, easing Paul back to lie on him.
"Uh huh," Paul answered, his voice thick with arousal. "You're really hard."
"Let's pretend I'm inside you." Dean started to rub himself against Paul's ass, simulating that he was fucking him. "You want me inside you, Paul?" When he said 'inside,' Dean bucked up against him playfully.
"I wish you could be more than anything," Paul whispered. He began to move his backside against Dean as he would if they were having sex.
Dean really liked how eager Paul was to fool around, even when it was a quickie. He grabbed Paul's crotch through his pants and began to massage his hardening cock and balls. Paul mewled. "I'm fucking you," Dean breathed into his ear. He used his free hand to undo the first few buttons of Paul's shirt and then dove in, stroking his chest and stomach. As the heat turned up, Dean just fanned the fire, kissing Paul's neck and ear. Paul ran his hand through Dean's hair. "You feel incredible."
Another minute and they were riding the waves of pleasure, both panting, simply bucking against each other as if they were really having sex, Dean pushing Paul down against him while squeezing his cock through his pants, hands everywhere. They tried to be as quiet as they could, keeping their lips busy to stifle errant moans.
Sam got out of the shower without turning off the water. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went over to the door, opening it just a crack. Paul's bathroom was just off the living room; it provided Sam with a good view of what Paul and his brother were doing on the couch. Damn, they couldn't keep their hands off each other for five minutes? He remembered what it was like when he and Jessica first got together... they were just like that. Sam made a face and closed the door. His brother being intimate with someone wasn't on the short list of things he enjoyed seeing, at least not since sometime in his teenage years. Sam had outgrown peeping a long time ago.
Still, seeing Dean in compromising positions with Paul only got him used to the sight, desensitizing him to it, so he wouldn't freak out down the line. Sam could only imagine what Dean would be like when he realized that Sam knew and felt it gave him a green light to make out with Paul openly. He wasn't sure Paul would be comfortable with it, though. Either way, Sam couldn't allow himself to spazz out in reaction to his brother being with a guy. It was just an unfamiliar thing. If Dean thought he was too freaked out about it, it might alienate them from each other, and Sam didn't want that.
He gave them another minute, then turned off the water.
Dean moaned quietly into Paul's neck with every thrust, his rhythm quickening. Faster and faster.
"The water just went off," Paul panted, looking at the bathroom door with alarm.
"He's gotta dry off... dress... gotta minute..." Dean whispered back, and added, "Almost there."
All Paul could think of was getting himself put back together so Sam wouldn't know what had just been happening in his absence. When Dean came, Paul didn't.
Gritting his teeth, Dean made a strangled grunt and held Paul against him, gripping Paul's still hard cock through his pants so tightly that he whimpered in pain as well as arousal. Tingling shockwaves moved up Paul's legs and back. Dean held his breath for several moments as he came, then let it out into Paul's ear with a curt moan. He panted, making, "Mmm..." noises.
In the bathroom, Sam pulled an old T-shirt over his head. He was almost dressed for bed.
"You didn't cum," Dean breathed into Paul's ear.
Paul tried to disentangle himself from Dean, grabbing his hand. With a mischievous grin, Dean refused to let go of his crotch. "It's okay, I'll take care of it. Just leggo."
"Maybe you should go in the bedroom and wait for me, and once Sammy falls asleep - "
Sam took hold of the bathroom doorknob and rattled it to let them know he was coming.
Eyes going wide, Dean flung Paul off his lap. Paul landed on the couch next to him, frantically crossing his legs and simultaneously trying to button his shirt and smooth out his pants at the same time, all while appearing totally casual. Dean yanked down his shirt and draped an arm over his crotch to hide any wet spots that may be showing. They were both a little sweaty and short of breath.
Sam came out of the bathroom, running a towel vigorously through his hair. He stared at his brother and Paul, trying to look relaxed and failing miserably. "Shower's free," Sam deadpanned.
"My turn!" Dean cried, and sprang up off the couch. He grabbed his duffel bag on the way by and disappeared into the bathroom.
Paul attempted to look innocent for half a second before mumbling, "I've got something in..." and scurrying into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Rolling his eyes, Sam checked to make sure the mattress was firm enough, turned off the air pump, and plopped down on the bed. He folded the towel over his pillow and laid back on it to wait for his hair to dry. Sam talked quietly to himself. "Apparently, you attended Stanford, got an excellent score on the LSAT's, but you're still an unobservant dumbfuck." He then spoke to himself in a dopey voice. "Duh, I didn't notice that when I go-ed in the bathroom, everyone was fully dressed, but when I camed out, their clothes was messed up, duuuuh. Why are you panting, Dean? Did you take a lap around the building? Duh hur."
Now alone in his room, Paul locked the door, got a towel and laid back on his bed; he closed his eyes and finished himself off, masturbating while picturing Dean in the shower. Muscled back, water running down the well-defined middle and over his tight buttocks... hands soaping up his chest... mmmm. Paul would have loved to wait for Dean to finish what he'd started, but with Sam in the next room, fully capable of waking up and catching them this time, he didn't feel at all comfortable with it.
While in the shower, Dean was overcome with pleasurable feelings, stroking his mind through the psychic link he had with Paul. It was Paul's way of letting him know that it was better if they just finished now and let it rest for the night. "Damn... oh well, we had our fun, huh baby?" Dean floated on those feelings as he took an extra long shower.
Sam fell asleep while waiting for Dean to come back. He started awake when his brother, dressed for bed, sat on the air mattress next to him. When Sam opened his eyes, Dean was grinning like he knew something as he watched Paul go into the bathroom. "Sorry, I might've used all the hot water," he whispered.
Paul rolled his eyes and waved it off. "I'm not planning to be in here long." He tried to close the door softly.
Sam watched his brother give a mighty, neck-popping stretch, grinning like a maniac. Dean only did that when he'd just engaged in a satisfying hunt or some pretty good sex. "You're a jerk, using up all the hot water," Sam teased.
"Couldn't help it." Dean opened his mouth to finish that thought when his cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID. "Uh oh." With an evil grin, he snapped the phone open and answered the call. "Hey, are you here? Oh, perfect. I'll be right down." Hanging up, Dean stood and headed for the front door. "I'll be downstairs. If Paul comes out, tell him I'm making a call outside because the reception's better in the parking lot."
"Who the hell was that?" Sam asked. It was the second time that day that Dean had stepped outside to take or make a call in secrecy. The first time had been shortly before they left SQ headquarters for the day.
"Savannah. She and Eric just made it. Remember them? I want to check in, make sure they're okay. Don't tell Paul they're here."
"Why the heck not?"
"I'll explain later. Just do it, please?" Dean slowly opened the front door.
Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother. "You're up to something."
Slinking into the hall, Dean peered back around the door and said, "Just do it," through gritted teeth.
"You're not even going to put on any shoes?" Sam called, but in a hushed voice.
Dean just hissed, "Shh!" and closed the door behind him.
As they had previously agreed, Savannah and Eric waited for Dean just outside the parking lot of Paul's building, out of sight. She had to wave at Dean to get his attention. Eric had been leaning on a parking meter, looking a bit mopey as he often did, but once he caught sight of Dean, his face lit up. Out of embarrassment, he tried to hide how much he enjoyed seeing Dean again.
"Hey, how's it going?" Dean gave Savannah a warm hug. "It's been a long time."
"Hey..." She squeezed his neck. "We're okay. How are you, you ol' stud?"
"Same as always." Dean opened his arms and grinned for Eric. He could tell how awkward Eric felt about seeing him again. "Don't I get a hug?"
Biting his thumbnail, Eric hesitated for a moment and then swung an arm around Dean's neck. "Hi Dean," he said quietly.
Dean hugged him, patting his back, making a mental note of how thin Eric felt in his arms. "It's been a while. You feel like you've had about three good meals since then."
Eric tried to laugh it off. He absently picked a string off Dean's T-shirt. "Six."
Dean chuckled.
Not able to help it, Eric added, "You're looking good. Real good."
Savannah smirked.
For some reason Dean couldn't quite figure yet, he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave this option open. He knew that Eric would do anything to satisfy him, all he had to do was snap his fingers, but... "Thanks," was all Dean could think of to say.
"Now, go over it with me again," Savannah began. "Exactly what kind of file do you want me to make?"
Dean explained precisely what he wanted: A file that would be a parody of the one Keel had built on the Winchester family, with Keel as the star. "If you have the chance to get some embarrassing shots, by all means, take all you can. If you see him up to something that doesn't seem quite right, get pictures of that too. He's got a lot of secrets; I want to know what they are. And if he tries to hire you out to take more photos of me and my brother, you play along, but you're really going to screw those shots up. Whatever will throw him off the scent."
"Got it."
"Keel's got two people working with him. I don't care if you get shots of the chick. If she does something boneheaded, I'd probably enjoy seeing it, but she's not the focus of this prank." Dean remembered how Evie had given him so much shit about his weapons. "On second thought, I'd love a few humiliating shots of her. Just for my own amusement."
Snickering, Savannah replied, "Sure."
"Don't take any pictures of the guy who works with Keel. His name is Paul. Dark hair, dresses really nice, kinda uptight - "
"Yeah, I know who you're talking about."
"Good. He's not a part of this. I have no beef with him, so I'd rather you not take any pictures of him. Okay?"
"Whatever you want."
Dean didn't think that Paul would approve of his little joke, so he wanted to keep him out of it as much as possible. "Check in with me every once in a while and let me know how things are going."
"Okay." Savannah rocked on her heels, looking at Dean as if she expected something. She didn't wait long before holding out her hand.
Dean looked at it. "Huh? Oh." He had taken his jacket with him when he came down; now he pulled out his wallet. "I'm gonna give you some cash and a credit card to start off with. I know you'll like this one because it has one of your favorite names on it."
Savannah read the card. "Chris Robinson. Black Crows, sweet."
Grinning, Dean continued, "As soon as I got that one, I thought of you. And it's ideal, because Chris could be your name or his. So you can both use it."
Eric flashed a smile at that too.
"Good deal, Winchester. Hey, we should have a party on this as soon as possible." Savannah wiggled the credit card between her fingers. "You wanna come over once we get a hotel room? Like, say, tomorrow night?"
A small jolt of excited electricity shot up Eric's spine. He hoped Dean would say yes.
"Oh, I don't know... we're working a case here and I'm not sure I can get away. I'll let you know, okay?" Dean's wild, party-loving side pictured him drinking a lot of beer and doing one sibling, then the other, but his loyal, workaholic side said he couldn't do that, he needed to concentrate on his God is Nowhere dreams and the Mothman.
And Paul.
To try to entice him, Savannah drew circles on his chest with her finger as she said, "Sure, you let us know. If you do come, bring one of your guns, okay?"
He appeared confused, furrowing his brow. "Why?"
"'Cause I wasn't lying when I said that guns make me hot." She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "I want you to fuck me with it."
Dean shuddered deliciously just thinking about that. He stared off into space, picturing it, a stunned look on his face.
Savannah added, "Bet you've never done that before."
Seeing the look on Dean's face, and knowing what his sister had said, Eric couldn't help but laugh to himself. "Ewww," he said, and made a face. "You're such a freak, Sav."
Upstairs, Sam was trying to stay awake so he could harangue his brother about what was going on, but he was losing that battle. Just as he was drifting off, a sharp pain stabbed through the spot between his eyes.
Hissing, Sam took hold of the bridge of his nose with two fingers and rubbed, but it didn't help. It rarely did. He opened his eyes and saw Paul's couch stretch and warp until it changed into his vision.
"Hey Chad. Chad, you hear me, faggot?"
A kid, about college age, with brown hair and a harmless-looking face, walked across the parking lot of a movie theatre with a girl of similar age. He was dressed as Dr. Frank-N-Furter from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, complete with a full face of overdone makeup, corset, garter belt, and fishnet stockings. His female friend had dressed as Columbia, gold sparkling jacket and all. They both turned around when the guy in the college letter jacket called to Chad.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"I hear you," Chad replied, trying to put up a brave front. "We'll be late to the movie, Gary." Chad saw that Gary wasn't alone. Two other guys, big guys, flanked him. "We don't want any shit."
All three of them were snickering. "You don't want any shit?" Gary laughed, gesturing to Chad's clothes. "Did you look in the mirror before you left the house?"
The girl spoke up. "Come on, Gary, leave him alone."
"Why are you hanging out with this faggot, Hannah? I mean, look at 'im," one of the others said.
"I'm not a faggot," protested Chad.
Gary responded, "That just makes it worse. You're a tranny, then. What would your mom say if she saw you dressed like that?"
His friends laughed.
"I'm not a transvestite, either."
"We're dressed for The Rocky Horror Picture Show," Hannah offered, trying to help.
"So because you're going to a movie, it's okay to dress like a whore?"
"It's like a costume party," Hannah said. She rolled her eyes. "Let us go before we miss the opening credits."
"But there's too much fun to be had here." Gary walked up and put an arm around Chad's neck. Chad tried to shake him off, but the other guy was too big. "My cousin here thinks he's a funny man."
"Yeah, he posted some shit about the team on Live Journal," one of the other guys said.
"Yeah." Gary pinched Chad's cheek. Chad grimaced and struggled to get away from him. "Apparently, we're all a bunch of nimrods who would rather screw each other in the locker room than play good field hockey." He saw the rouge on his fingers, made a face at it, and wiped it on Chad's clothes. "You thought we wouldn't see that, huh? How did you say it?"
"I think he said something like, 'The team will never see this because they're all too stupid to know how to use a computer.' But, I'm paraphrasing," Gary's friend, Nate, said.
"Wow, I'm impressed, you used the word 'paraphrasing' correctly," Chad spat back before his better judgment could stop him.
Gary punched him in the stomach. Chad doubled over with a loud expelling of breath.
Cringing, Hannah cried, "Come on, Gary. He's your cousin. Save it for the field."
"You know what he wrote about us, Han. Just stay out of it."
"We're not going to do anything to the little faggot that he doesn't deserve," Nate said, and rushed at Chad. He punched upward, connecting with Chad's chin, and knocked him backward onto the ground.
Chad spit out blood. "Stop it," he said, his voice shaking.
"Oh, I think he's gonna cry." The three guys surrounded him, circling like vultures.
"If you don't stop, I'll call the police," Hannah threatened.
"I think you wanna keep your mouth shut, Han. You know why." Gary poked Chad in the chest with his foot. "You say a bunch of crap about us on the Internet and then you go out in public looking like this? And you expect us not to beat you up? I think you're the stupid one, Chad."
"Chadette," Gary's other friend corrected with a laugh.
"Not fair. You got me outnumbered," Chad said. He felt at his mouth and looked at the blood on his fingers.
"Yeah, 'cause you said shit about every one of us."
"We just happen to be getting back at you all at the same time," Nate snickered.
"Guys, come on..." Hannah clearly waffled between going for the police and doing nothing, and Chad had no idea why.
When Chad tried to get up, Gary kicked him in the stomach. That spurred his friends on to join him, all three kicking the boy repeatedly in the chest and midsection. Hannah tried to push one of them aside to get him to stop, which caused him to accidentally kick Chad in the face. Quite a bit of blood spurted from his nose. Chad cried out in pain.
"You guys, quit! He's bleeding really bad!"
"That's the point of beating somebody up, idiot."
Hannah pushed the guy backward and they all argued for half a minute while Chad bled onto the pavement, trying feebly to get up. Suddenly, Gary yelped and pointed to the blood on the ground. "What the fuck?!"
The blood was crawling across the pavement like it was a live thing, moving without the assistance of human intervention. It formed itself into words.
God is Now Here.
"Did you see that?!"
They stared at the blood in shock. They had all seen it. "Holy crap," Nate said.
"It... it was moving on its own!" Hannah cried.
Panting, Chad looked down at his own blood, just as bewildered as everyone else. His pain was temporarily forgotten. His blood had just formed words. On its own. Like the hand of God had just come down and traced out the letters on the ground.
Although the others may forget what happened there that night, Chad would not forget. His life was changed forev
"Sam! Sam!"
Sam came out of the vision with a chest-rattling gasp. His head pounded as well as his heart. But the vision faded, and he could see Paul kneeling over him, shaking his shoulder. He'd been in the grip of the vision long enough for Paul to finish his shower and put on a T-shirt and pajama pants. Sam put a hand to his forehead.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Had a vision." Hissing, he rubbed the space between his eyes.
"Where's Dean?"
"Downstairs. He got... a phone call."
"Can I get you anything? A cold cloth for your head?" Paul asked.
"Yeah, that'd be... grea - " He finished the word by growling the A and then crying out in pain. "Another one. Another vision... is coming!"
"Sam, what should I do? Do you want me to get Dean?"
There was nothing Paul could do. Sam just had to wait the vision out and see what it would show him. Another wave of pain shot through his head and he grabbed Paul's arm just to have something to squeeze, as it was the first thing upon which his hand fell. Out of a need to comfort him, Paul gripped Sam's forearm near the wrist, intending to rub it, whatever he could do to let Dean's little brother know he was there. And suddenly, he was there.
Paul could see what Sam was seeing.
His face beaten up and bandaged, Chad Goodwell sat at a small desk in what seemed to be a dorm room. He didn't notice the black mist coming under the door, forming itself into the shape of a child behind him.
Paul could see Sam standing near him, quietly watching this scene. "Sam?"
Startled, he looked at Paul, astonished that he was there. "What are you doing here?"
"I touched you, and suddenly..." They both looked down to see Paul gripping Sam's arm. "I guess we know something else I can do with the power Diane McNeal gave me."
Sam nodded. "Mr. Keel called it projective clairvoyance." He stared at Paul's hand on his arm again. "It isn't just projective."
Not having any idea what to call this new facet of his power, Paul simply continued, "I'm seeing your vision."
Sam nodded again. "You've never done this before?"
"No." Paul, watching the mist form itself into the shape of Tommy Ferguson, asked, "Can you interact with your visions? We have to stop this. That's Chad Goodwell, and... Tommy? Tommy, listen to me - "
"We can't stop it," Sam replied, shaking his head. "We're seeing the past, Paul. This is retrocognition."
"Tommy, don't tell him to kill anybody! I know you're afraid of the Darkness, but those people aren't going to destroy the world. Don't do it - "
"Paul! He can't hear you!" Sam called, and shook the arm that Paul was holding to get his attention. Paul looked at him, a desperate, stricken look on his face. "We can only observe this. We're seeing the past."
Paul realized he could barely move. "We're not actually here?"
"No."
Tommy said, "Chad?" and the youth turned around, surprised to see a little boy standing in his room.
"But we have to stop this! Tommy is going to tell Chad to kill the God is Nowhere people. I can't just stand here and watch it happen."
"What are you doing in my room? How'd you get in?" Chad was asking.
"Paul, we're not supposed to change what happened," Sam tried to explain. "There's something important we're here to see. Just try and listen, okay?"
"But - " Paul noticed that when Tommy turned his head and the light caught his eyes, the irises looked red, and a small black tear appeared beside his left one. It was gone as quickly as Paul had seen it. "Oh my God... Dean was right. That's not Tommy."
"Tommy," looking about the way he had when Paul met him, pouted sadly at Chad. "My name's Tommy Ferguson. I know who you are and what you mean to the world." He tried a small, warm smile, attempting to be comforting, as he knew what he was about to endeavor to get the college student to accept would be quite unbelievable and upsetting. "We have something very important to discuss."
tbc