The Best Part of Waking Up

     It was very early morning when Roman opened his eyes, the sunrise peeking in through partially open curtains and illuminating his face with a narrow shaft of golden light. He blinked groggily a few times, trying to adjust to suddenly being awake. He groaned in pain when he realized he had fallen asleep on his stomach and now his back was in knots. 

     God, what the hell happened last night, anyway? he thought to himself, trying to remember how he had managed to end up laying diagonally across the hotel bed, still wearing his clothes. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and attempted to roll over, but there was something heavy partially draped over his back. He turned his head and saw that it was a still-passed-out Dean who was using him as a body pillow.

     Roman suddenly remembered how they had gone out to a bar the night before to relax and have a couple of drinks, and how Dean had kept ordering rounds of shots, and then shortly after that, things understandably had gotten a bit blurry. He did vaguely remember having to basically carry Dean back to his room because he could barely stand upright, however, and he quickly realized that they must have both passed out immediately once they hit the bed. 

     As Roman tried to wiggle his way out from beneath the blonde's frame, Dean stirred, his face contorting into a yawn as he reached out without opening his eyes and wrapped his arm around the larger man's midsection, pulling them back together. He hummed out a contented moan as he buried his face in Roman's mane of hair and inhaled the comforting scent of his shampoo.

     Roman couldn't help but chuckle at Dean's unintentional cuteness. He always turned into a big baby when he was sleeping, and he certainly didn't respond well to being woken up this early in the morning, especially not after the night they'd had. He didn't want to have to wake Dean up just to get him to move, so he figured he would try to roll over and adjust their positions that way.

     Slowly and gently, Roman started to move a little bit at a time until he was finally able to lay on his back, every move echoed by Dean, who was still steadfastly clinging to him. He lifted his head up to see that Dean was stripped down to just his underwear, his leg draped over Roman's body as he lay there peacefully, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead. He let out a big sigh as he snuggled more insistently into Roman's shoulder, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Mmm, no more moving," he croaked, his voice raspy, eyes still closed. "Mmmyoustayhere. Mine."

     As much as he didn't want to disturb him, Roman couldn't help but laugh at Dean's comments. He still couldn't get over the fact that this man could be both the epitome of a "tough guy" and also an adorable little boy at the same time. He tried to hold in his laughter, but after a few moments Dean was shaken awake by the haphazard rising and falling of the larger man's chest as he giggled beneath him.

    Dean blinked a few times, rubbing his eye sockets with the heel of his hand. He ran his hand up over his forehead, trying to brush his hair back, but since it was so stuck to him, most of it stayed in place. Roman smiled and pulled the blonde's hand away, resting it back onto his chest while he carefully peeled the hair off of Dean's face for him. As he did so, Dean brought his leg up higher over Roman's midsection and snuggled even closer. "My Romie," he muttered.

     As Dean's leg rubbed across Roman's crotch, he suddenly became aware that his bladder was full, and that his dick was uncomfortably hard because of it. He groaned and pushed the leg away, trying to keep from peeing himself. "Ughhh, I gotta get up so I can take a piss," he grumbled, not really wanting to move, but desperately needing to relieve himself. 

     "Fine, but come back here afterwards. It's still way too fucking early to be awake, especially after the night we had," Dean replied, grabbing one of the pillows and burying his face into it. 

     As Roman jumped up to head into the bathroom, he asked curiously, "Yeah, speaking of which, what exactly did happen? I mean, how did we both end up in the same room? And for that matter, how did you manage to strip down to just your underwear during the night? You were way more drunk than I was when we came back here, I remember that much."

     Dean remained silent for a few moments, then pulled his face out of the pillow and replied, "Eh, you know me...I can't sleep unless I'm practically butt naked. Sorry about that. I'm pretty sure nothing bad happened, though."

     "Really? Are you sure about that, Dean?" Roman questioned, looking down at himself to realize that his pants were already undone. "Then how do you think this happened?" He walked out of the bathroom, pointing at his open fly.

     "Well, I did say nothing bad happened, didn't I?" Dean answered, smirking mischeviously as he flopped the pillow back over his head.

  

     

     

Careless Whisper: Part 2

                                                   "Tonight the music seems so loud
                                                   I wish that we could lose this crowd
                                                          Maybe it's better this way

                                    We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say"

     "No no no, don't be fucking dead, man, please," Dean heard in his head, but oddly, the voice wasn't his own.

"Come ON, Dean, seriously...please wake up," came the voice again, deeply baritone, but spiked with growing panic. He felt himself moving, which struck him as odd, since he was the only one there.

     "DEAN!!!" The voice shouted, snapping him suddenly back to reality, his head banging against the tarred roof as he was helplessly shaken. As he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of Roman, silhouetted against the waning twilight. As he moved closer, his face came into clearer view, his handsome features etched with worry. "Oh my God, you're not dead...thank GOD," he rejoiced, crouching over Dean and wrapping him up in his arms. He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, still murmuring words of thanks as Dean looked blankly up at the sky, woozy and still very intoxicated.

     "How the fuck did you find me? I didn't tell anybody," he said, his voice trailing off as he blinked hard a few times, trying to will himself to focus. "Ugh, where's my beer? I know I had at least one left.." he groaned, looking back toward the ledge and trying to crawl his way over to where he had seen them last.

     "Nope, I think you're done for tonight, man. Pack it up, I'm taking you someplace safe," Roman countered, reaching out and grabbing Dean by the back of his leather jacket. Since he only had a grip on the coat, Dean quickly squirmed out of it and scrambled away, cowering like a wounded animal. He managed to make it up onto his feet, but he was still very tipsy.

     "DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!" Dean said angrily, pointing accusatorily at Roman as he leaned down and grabbed the last can out of the box. When he stood back up the box was stuck on his hand, and he had to stiffly shake it a few times before it finally fell off, thereby turning his moment of attempted defiance into a pitiful display of awkwardness. He pouted, surly eyes looking at Roman through a mess of tangled hair. "Don't......tell me....what to do," he whimpered, sniffing between words as the emotions came flooding back all at once. He abruptly turned and sat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the side, as he opened his last beer with one hand and proceeded to start slugging it down.

Before he could finish, it was yanked out of his hand by Roman, who had come to sit down beside him. "Give me that," he said tersely, shaking his head. "I'm gonna need it if I'm going to hang with you tonight, apparently." He finished off the beer in two gulps and set the can down between them.

Dean picked the can up and again hurled it out over the edge, watching it fall all the way down and land with a barely audible metallic ping in the hotel parking lot. He leaned forward as he watched its descent, his mind a million miles away. It was only the presence of Roman's large hand on his chest that brought him back, literally and figuratively.

"Come on, don't fucking do that...you're really freaking me out here, man. Will you please talk to me? Tell me what you're thinking. I want to know." He raised his hand to Dean's cheek, brushing away a few soaked strands of hair from his tear-streaked face. "I mean, if you're up here thinking about jumping, I think you best be talking to somebody, even if it's not me. But I really wish you'd talk to me."

A long, silent moment passed between them, Roman waiting anxiously for a reply, or a grunt, or a fucking blink; anything at all that might indicate that Dean was present. Finally after Dean couldn't stand being stared at for any longer, he spoke, his voice a defeated half-whisper, as though he barely had the energy to form the words. "I'm just an idiot, that's all. Nothing new there," he said, half-smiling at his own ridiculousness.

Roman sighed, looking away in frustration. "Really Dean? I thought we were better friends than that. I know damn well you're thinking some fucked up shit right now, so fucking tell me," he demanded, his tone becoming annoyed.

It was then that something in Dean snapped. He turned his head and started Roman down with a stone-faced glare. "Oh yeah? Well if you supposedly know so fucking much about what I'm thinking, why don't you tell ME? HUH?! Otherwise... fuck off," he spat, looking to redirect some of the hurt onto someone besides himself.

Roman's eyes grew wide with disbelief. "Oh, so it's like that, huh? That's how you wanna play this? Ok, fine," he growled, jaw clenching as he glared back. "I think you're fucking madly in love with Seth, and you can't handle the fact that he proposed to Leighla. I think maybe you have some feelings that don't quite fit with the way you've chosen to live your life up to this point, but you've gotten to the point where you can't really deny them any more. I think you're hating yourself for not telling him how you felt before it was too late," he said, voice softening as he absentmindedly rubbed the empty spot on his ring finger with his right hand. "And since I'm already telling you what I think, I might as well add this: I think you should still tell him. He deserves to know," he said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean shrugged it off, his head twitching slightly. "HE deserves to know? Well geez, why don't we just give Seth fucking everything while we're at it? I mean, fuck, he's already perfect, and cute, and talented, and now he's gonna have the perfect wife, and probably the prefect fucking family too...and I get shit, because that's all a piece of shit like me deserves..." he groaned, face dropping into his palms to hide the oncoming wave of tears. He began to cry uncontrollably, too drunk and desperate to stop it. "I'm sorry," he managed to croak out between sobs.

"Sorry? Why are you saying sorry to me? Roman asked, confused.

"Because I didn't want to feel like this. I know I ruined everything. I couldn't just be friends with him. I had to be fucking greedy," he replied, the words spilling out faster now. "I always end up wanting what I can't have. I'm fucking stupid." His throat was so raw, it was starting to hurt as well.

"You're not stupid," Roman reassured. "Believe me. I know how you feel."

Dean looked back at Ro and saw him wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Fucking pollen, right?" he said, smiling affectionately at the Samoan by his side.

"Yeah...allergies," Roman answered, sniffling a little. He saw Dean's smile and returned it, then put an arm around the smaller man's shoulders and pulled him closer. Dean leaned into Roman's chest and exhaled heavily, as though some of his burden had been allieviated.

"So, you never did tell me how you found me. Is there a missing persons report out on me or something?" Dean asked, his curiosity coming back now that he had released some of his anguish.

Roman pressed his face into Dean's messy hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo. "No...Seth wouldn't stop calling and texting me. He said you weren't answering your phone, and nobody else had seen you, so he was kind of freaking the fuck out, understandably. I told him I'd find you, and once I checked the hotel bar and you weren't there, I figured it was worth a shot to check up here. I've babysat your drunk ass enough times to know your patterns by now," he said, chuckling.

"Wait...so does he know where we are now?" Dean asked, fear rising in his voice. "Did you fucking tell him we're up here, you bastard?!"

Just as Roman opened his mouth to answer, the rooftop door swung open. In the doorway stood Seth, flushed and out of breath, in a state of near-panic. "Oh, thank God, thank God, don't ever do that to me again, you fucking asshole," he cried, running toward Dean with arms extended, ready to hug him and never let him go.

Careless Whisper: Part 1

                                                "To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind
                                                         There's no comfort in the truth
                                                               Pain is all you'll find"

     
     Engaged.

      ENGAGED. That fucking stupid word. Dean had said it in his head so many times that it didn't even sound like a real word anymore. Not that it had lost any meaning, because it still hurt just as much the 300th time he heard it as it did the first time, when it fell from Seth's lips and shattered him into a million pieces.

     "Awesome, man. That's...awesome. I'm really happy for you guys," he had replied as Seth pulled him in for a hug. Fortunately he didn't see the tears welling up in Dean's eyes as they embraced, but he did hear him suddenly start to sniffle, and he pulled back, looking at Dean with concern.

     "What's the matter? You got allergies or something?" Seth asked as Dean tried to look anywhere else but into those beautiful brown eyes. "Nah, man....I mean, yeah...it's just allergies. Stupid fucking pollen," Dean answered hastily, changing his direction mid-stream. He knew this wasn't the time or the place to discuss it. He sniffed again, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. "Hey, I uh, I gotta go...work out, so I'll catch you around later, ok?" he said, eyes trailing down to the ground as he turned and walked quickly away, tears starting to spill down his cheeks as he made his escape.

     He hadn't realized just how much it was going to hurt, though. It sat in his chest, the pain so strong and so real it had him wondering if he was about to have a coronary right then and there. Oh yeah, that would be fitting, Dean thought to himself, to die up here all alone on top of a hotel, surrounded by empty beer cans. Nobody would ever guess that it wasn't the booze or the lifestyle that killed me...

     Dean reached down and shoved his hand into the 12-pack of beer sitting next to him, rummaging around until he found another unopened can. Jesus, did I drink that many already? He looked at the time on his phone, ignoring the multiple text messages and missed calls. It was late enough that it was technically early, but the sky was still dark, the churning clouds mirroring his mood. Sighing heavily, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and cracked open the beer, looking out into the distance.

     Why did he have to show up in the first place if he was just going to leave again? he asked himself once more, even though he still didn't know the answer. Why did you have to put him in my path and have us crash together, if only to turn around and tear us apart? He knew he was probably being overly dramatic, but the alcohol wasn't exactly helping him to lighten his thoughts.

      Dean looked up into the ether, his face a mix of pain, anger and confusion. He bit hard into his bottom lip, trying to hold everything in, but he had reached a point of full saturation. It was going to come out, regardless of whether he wanted it to or not. He chugged the entire beer in his hand and then angrily hurled the spent can out over the edge of the building's roof, then jumped up onto his feet and stood on the ledge, the toes of his boots extending a couple of inches beyond it. Nobody would stop him. Nobody even knew he was up here.

     But if he ended up down there, they would know. They'd all know, and Seth would definitely know, and Dean knew he couldn't do that to him. It wasn't Seth's fault he couldn't deal with it anyway. He wasn't the one who put the longing in Dean's heart, he just happened to be the one who brought it out. He couldn't help being the sweet, dorky, beautiful soul that he was any more than Dean could help loving him. Like a fucking idiot, he thought, berating himself in his mind. As the feelings came rushing up again, Dean groaned and hunched over, hands clutching his stomach as a wave of nausea overtook him.

He spun around, only making it a few steps before retching and spewing out the majority of the beer he had already drank, coughing and gasping for air as he fell weakly onto his hands and knees. Once he was empty, he sat back on his heels and let out a loud, pained cry, the sound ripping from his throat, dissolving into raw sobbing. He hated himself for not being able to keep from feeling this way, but on some level he felt like he deserved it. This was exactly what he knew was going to happen anyway.

You knew he was too good for you from the beginning. You KNEW he was never going to be yours, but you lied to yourself. You chose to delude yourself. YOU did this to yourself. 

Dean's eyesight began to blur, his mind going hazy as he slumped over onto his side, the sound of the building's ventilation system wrapping cozily around him like a comforting blanket as he curled into the fetal position and lost consciousness.


   

     
     
   

Teamwork: Chapter 17

     Roman took hold of Dean's wrists and pulled them up over his head, pinning them down with one hand as he waited for a reply. The look of conflict on Dean's face was cathartically beautiful, ice blue eyes wide with need, pink tongue restless in his mouth. He was more than ready, he just needed to find a way to push the actual words out, to will the thought into action. Ro flipped his hair over to one side and started to kiss and nibble on Dean's neck, moaning into his ear as he continued gyrating on top of him. He brought his knee up and nudged the smaller man's thighs apart, maneuvering himself between them.
     Dean instinctively pulled his knees up, wrapping his legs tightly around the body above him and squeezing. His moans got louder as he felt Roman's heavy cock jostling against his own, but he still didn't speak.

 Ro was starting to lose patience, frustration slowly creeping in. Never had he seen anyone resist his own desires this steadfastly. He tightened his grip on Dean's wrists and brought his mouth to his ear, purring, "What's your problem, anyway? You let Seth fuck you, but you don't want me? How come?" his voice getting a bit plaintive toward the end of the sentence. His thick tongue captured Dean's earlobe and pulled it into his mouth, sucking and moaning, trying to drive him to the brink of desperation, but also driving himself there at the same time. He bucked against the warmth of Dean's crotch and groaned. "Look at this fucking dick right here," he said, grabbing himself at the base and brandishing his cock like a weapon. "You see how much it wants you?"

"Yeah, I see it," Dean finally replied, looking down between them. "But...is that just your dick talking, or is that you? he asked hesitantly.

Ro froze, his steely eyes meeting Dean's. "Huh? No...of course not, it's...wait, is that what this is about? You think I just want to fuck you because I happened upon you guys getting it on?"

The look in Dean's eyes told him everything he needed to know, but he still couldn't believe it. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Dean might need to know he was wanted too. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry," he said, letting go of his cock and bringing his hand up to wrap around the back of Dean's neck, pulling him closer.

Their mouths came together in a deep kiss, full of urgency and unquenched desire. Dean moaned loudly, eyes rolling back in his head as Roman rocked back and forth on top of him, grinding needily against his ass, legs still locked around his midsection. He pulled back, his ebony mane concealing part of his face, eyes alight with passionate energy. "I've wanted this for as long as I've known you. To get to hold you like this...without having to punch you at the same time, that is." Roman laughed, his face breaking into a sweet smile.

Dean chuckled as well, relieved that the tension had been alleviated somewhat. He took a deep breath, looking up at Roman with sincere appreciation. "Thanks. That means a lot," he replied, swallowing hard. "Now please...fuck me. I want you in me so fucking bad right now, I'm not even kidding."

Roman's smile grew bigger as he pulled away, stripping off all of his remaining clothing and coating his formidable length with lube. He pounced back on top of Dean, grabbing him behind the knees and pushing his legs toward his chest, leaving his pretty hole helplessly exposed. "Oh, I'm gonna get up in you, don't you worry about that. You just hold on and try not to get bucked off," he said, staring down at Dean's painfully hard cock. "Because I'm gonna make you cum harder than you ever have in your life."

"Yeah, please...do it...I want to...cum...while you...fuck me," Dean replied in gasps as Ro slid the head of his dick around in the crease of his ass cheeks, trying to zero in on the one pliant spot he was aiming for. When he found it and pushed, he was pleasantly surprised to find that it swallowed him up eagerly, even though it was still breathtakingly tight and hot.

The Samoan saw stars shoot across his field of vision for a few moments, overtaken by the sudden assault on his senses. He shook his head and flipped his hair back, running a hand down to Dean's ass and giving it a hard slap, loving the feeling of that slick sheath squeezing around him. "Mmmm, looks like I was right all along...that ass is made for my cock, isn't it?"

"Fucckkkk yesssss," Dean whined, looking down between his splayed legs to watch Roman's full length slowly disappearing inside of him. "Take it...fuck it...use it," he growled, his voice dropping an octave as he let his head fall back onto the bed and relaxed into it. The relief he felt at that moment was undeniable. He knew that now, he didn't have to resist or hide anything any more. He had his two best friends with him, and they were doing what they had all been wanting to do all along, and they didn't need anything or anyone else to make it better. It was perfect.

Just then, he noticed Seth crawling up onto the bed behind Roman, his gaze locked on the sight of what was happening at the junction of the two rutting bodies in front of him. He had his still-hard cock in his grip and he was stroking himself steadily, mouth hanging open, completely entranced. He leaned over to get a better look, biting his lip as he watched Dean's asshole stretching to accommodate Roman's huge, thrusting rod. He groaned aloud and stroked his cock faster. "God, you guys look fucking awesome...soooo fucking hot," he said, a tinge of envy in his voice.

Roman sat back on his heels, still moving his cock in and out of Dean's hole slowly, and gave Seth a sly smirk. "You wanna watch this, don't you, you little fucking whore? I bet you'd love to get your dirty little hands and mouth all over us right now, wouldn't you?"

"Ohh yesss," Seth answered instantly, eyes greedily devouring the sight. He kept stroking, but made no move to touch them, instead looking plaintively at Roman for his approval.

Roman gave a slight nod of his head, indicating it was ok to proceed. Before he could say anything, however, Seth had already positioned himself directly behind them and had his face about a foot away from the action. He ran his hands over Roman's voluptuous ass, testing the firmness with a little squeeze. Ro moaned and leaned back over Dean, moving in to kiss him again as he began to pump his throbbing dick harder into that dizzying, maddening heat.

As the two men continued to fuck in front of him, Seth couldn't stop looking at Roman's tiny asshole winking at him as he pounded his meat into Dean relentlessly. He wanted to lick it so bad, but he didn't want to get into trouble for it. Instead, he stuck a finger in his mouth to wet it, then rubbed it around the small entrance gently, being sure to move with them. To his surprise, Ro moaned louder and slowed down his pace, pushing his ass back further than he normally would on the out-stroke. He moved onto his elbows and knees, cock still buried inside, and looked back. "Do it, slut. Lick my ass. I know you fucking want to." He reached back, grabbed Seth by the hair, and shoved his face into it until he felt Seth's warm, wet tongue squirming ecstatically, rapturous moans buzzing against his sensitive flesh. "Mmhmm, yeah...eat that ass, you fucking whore," he encouraged, moaning even more when Dean started pinching his nipples between his teeth, trying to get him to resume the fucking he was giving before they were interrupted.

"Man, you guys are both just big sluts for me, huh? Got you all dickmatized, don't I?" Roman teased cockily, working his cock in a bit deeper, his round ass flexing against Seth's face. The moans that came from both Dean and Seth then said more than mere words could ever express. He laughed, hardly able to believe that what was happening was really real. But it was. And at that moment, he felt like the luckiest guy in the entire world...

   

Backseat Driver

     "Sure, you can come with us...as long as you drive," said Dean, slapping the keys to the rental car into Seth's open palm. "That actually works out good for me, since that way I'll have both hands free to work my magic," he said as he looked hungrily at Renee, who was busy loading her bag into the trunk and not paying attention to their conversation. As he spoke, Seth followed Dean's gaze to the pair of black suede over-the-knee boots she was wearing with a rather short, fitted skirt. She looked classy as usual, but even Seth had to admit that there was something about her in those boots that was unbelievably sexy. All Seth could think of was what she might look like wearing just the boots and nothing else. He must have stared a bit too long, because he was unceremoniously slapped out of his reverie by Dean, who leaned in close and whispered, "Don't even think about it, man...that's all mine. Although maybe you're lucky, she might not mind you watching."

     Seth shivered as he felt Dean's hot breath in his ear, his cheek stinging from the slap. His cock was already stirring in his tight jeans as his imagination began to ramp up. "Alright, but I'm tellin' ya, she's not gonna let you do shit with me in the car. She's not that kind of girl....is she?" he asked, a hint of longing in his voice.

     Dean looked over at Renee again just in time to see her bending over, reaching for something in the deeper recesses of the trunk. The gold zippers that ran up the back of her boots were like two shining beacons, pointing the way up to the promised land that awaited him underneath the skirt that was stretching marvelously to accommodate her trim, yet shapely behind. He gawked openly, momentarily forgetting that Seth had just asked him a question. He shook his head, trying to clear away the distraction. "Huh?" he asked, having completely lost his train of thought. He looked at Seth awkwardly, a hint of a flush on his cheeks. "Sorry, I uh..."

     Chuckling, Seth clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder and leaned in, whispering, "You guys haven't had sex yet, have you? Haha, this ought to be a very entertaining ride," before walking to the car and getting in the driver's seat.

      "Need any help with that?" Dean offered as he walked up behind Renee, still checking out her ass but trying to be a bit more discreet this time.

     Renee turned around, rolling her eyes. "Well, maybe if you had asked me that five minutes ago, I might have said yes, but it's under control now. You just go sit your pretty self in the front seat, big boy, I got this," she said, smirking as she looked up at the surprised expression on Dean's face. 

     "Oh really?" he replied, a bit taken aback. "Well what if I want to sit with you, huh?" he inquired, sliding an arm around her small waist and pulling her against him, giving her his best sad puppy-dog eyes and jutting out his bottom lip in an adorable pout.

     Renee raised an eyebrow, somewhat suspicious of his tactics. "So you want us both to sit in the back while poor Seth has to chauffeur us around everywhere? That hardly seems fair," she replied, running a hand up his chest and dragging her fingernails back down lightly. "I mean, isn't that going to be weird?"

       "Weird? Nah, he sees enough of my ugly mug as it is. I'm sure he won't mind not having to look at it for a little while," Dean answered, his hands slowly meandering down her backside. "Come on, I promise I won't bite...unless maybe you ask real nice," he said slyly, giving her ass a quick squeeze and smiling before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on her lips.  

     Renee cocked an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. "Why would I ask you to do something painful to me on purpose? I don't see the appeal in that, to be honest."

     "Well, maybe you just haven't had somebody hurt you in just the right way yet," Dean shot back, grabbing her rather abruptly and pushing her back against the trunk of the vehicle. He kicked her legs apart with his foot, brought his leg up and rubbed it firmly against the warm junction of her thighs, causing her tight skirt to ride up as he kissed her again, more aggressively this time. She moaned lightly into his mouth, her desire for him growing rapidly even though she struggled to hide it. 

     "You, sir, are being very, very fresh," she teased once she finally pulled away, infinitely pleased at the  look of longing on Dean's face. He leaned toward her as she leaned back, lips still pouted in anticipation of another kiss. His hands clasped behind her lower back, pressing their bodies tightly together and squeezing out a soft moan from the small blonde. He released the pressure enough to allow her to breathe and waited for her eyes to meet his once again.

     "Am I?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Or am I doing exactly what you want?" 

     Renee's eyes narrowed as she seemed to think about it for a moment, then she raised a finger up between them and tapped him lightly on the tip of his nose. "That's a very good question," she answered, returning his challenging gaze with one of her own. "But did you ever consider that maybe I don't know exactly what I want all the time? I mean, maybe I want to see what happens...maybe I like spontaneity. Did you ever think of that, smart guy?" she asked sarcastically, giving a self-satisfied smirk as she playfully shoved him away.

     Deans eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. His mouth hung open as he struggled to process the possible implications of her rather cryptic statement. After a long moment, a twitchy grin and a look of sly recognition spread across his face. He stepped back and pulled her upright, then led her around the car and opened the rear door gallantly, allowing her to enter first. "After you, Madame," he said, waving her in.

     Renee let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, then moved past him and ducked down to get inside. "Ok, now you're trying waaayy too hard," she chided.

     Dean's lip curled into a sneer at her words and before he knew it, his hand was already on a trajectory aiming directly for her hindquarters. The slap cracked loudly against her tight behind, and as her head spun around to chastise him, he quickly climbed into the seat with her and brought his mouth right up to her ear, purring, "How about that? Was that hard enough for you, Princess? I wanna make sure I do it just right."

     "You shut your mouth," she responded testily, reaching up and swatting him on the cheek with an open palm. "Close the fucking door and let's go." She looked up at the rearview mirror to see Seth's eyes staring back in shock. He let out a high-pitched squeal of delight and broke into raucous laughter, banging loudly on the steering wheel. "Ohhhhh man, this is gonna be so GREAT. We should ride together all the time," he said, looking back at her as he put the car in gear. 

     "Yeah, we'll see," she replied, giving Seth an unimpressed look. "You guys seem like a couple of dorks to me. Might ruin my street cred." She winked and looked back, amused at how easy it was to get them both on the hook. 

     Predictably, Seth grumbled and slammed on the gas, peeling out of the parking lot and knocking them all back in their seats. "I am not a dork," he mumbled, looking at her again and sticking out his tongue brattily. 

     

Teamwork: Chapter 16

     "Alright then, come around to this side so you have a better view. And so you can reach," Roman prompted, watching Seth quickly slide over so Dean's ass was right in front of him.

     Roman used both hands to spread the pink cheeks on his lap, getting in close and watching his fingers plunging in and out of the slippery opening over and over again as Dean whimpered shakily, arms clutching Ro's thigh. He looked up at Seth, asking, "Why don't you give him some of that amazing tongue of yours, kitten? Make him really need that dick. I want him begging for it." 

     He nodded slightly to indicate it was ok to proceed, and Seth let out a long, enraptured moan as he buried his face between Dean's resilient mounds. He continued moaning loudly as he lapped wetly at the twitching orifice, the vibrations causing delicious stabs of sensation to go straight to Dean's cock. He in turn moaned louder, trying desperately not to hump Roman's leg. 

     Dean had never has this much attention paid to his ass before, and between Roman's fingers stretching him and now Seth's eager mouth licking and kissing that most sensitive area, he not only felt the familiar aching need from his excited cock, but he also felt that need coming from deep inside him, an itch that there was only one way to scratch. He swallowed hard as the realization hit him that he was most definitely about to be fucked by one or both of his teammates, but at that point he didn't care. The aching emptiness inside was growing and needed to be filled. "Please," he pleaded, resisting the urge to look back at Roman. "I need...something.."

     Roman smiled knowingly, responding, "I know you do, but I'm afraid that's not good enough to deserve my cock. I'll give you a little something right now, but if you want that thoroughbred dick you gotta ask for it by name. Remember that."

     Yes, Roman," Dean replied obediently, bowing his head down and arching his back.

     "Go ahead, kitten, you get to do the honors. Ream that pretty little ass." Roman said to Seth, who was already moving into position. He held his stiff cock out and ran it up and down Dean's crack a few times before finding his small entrance and pressing himself in. His mouth dropped open as he gripped Dean's hips tighter and continued pushing, the hot tunnel greedily swallowing his entire length. "Fuck, it's so fucking good....oh my god, you're so fucking tight inside," he gasped, biting his tongue between his teeth and closing his eyes in ecstasy. 

     As Dean felt the jolt of being penetrated for the first time, he immediately broke out in a cold sweat, suddenly feeling embarrassed and guilty at the predicament he was in. What if someone came into the room right then and saw him bent over and taking it from behind like a fucking cheap slut? How would he ever recover from such an indignity? 

     Before his mind had the chance to freak out any more, Seth started slowly moving in and out, each thrust erasing more and more of his initial protests and replacing it with an intense feeling of surrender. "Unhh....fuck....ohhh, it feels fucking huge," Dean panted, squirming reflexively on Roman's lap.

     "Yeah, that's right...good, isn't it?" Roman inquired, his hands kneading Dean's cheeks and squeezing them around Seth's pole. "Fuck, yesss..." Dean breathed, shuddering with pleasure.

     Roman then began roaming his fingers over Seth's rhythmically flexing abs and pinched his nipples, drawing a breathy moan from the smaller man. "What about you?" he asked, looking down to watch Seth's slick meat pounding that greedy hole. "Is it as good as you thought it would be?"

     Seth looked Ro in the eye with an appreciative grin, replying, "Soooo good....fucking amazing..." he jabbed his cock in hard, making Dean twitch and whimper louder. "You need to try this for yourself. Then you can say whose is better, mine or his," Seth teased, leaning in and kissing the Samoan as he kept working his cock deeper into Dean's backdoor.

     "Oh, you know I will," Ro mumbled into Seth's mouth as he kissed back, "but you gotta get him to want it real bad first."

     Seth grinned widely in affirmation before leaning over Dean's back and running his hands down along his sides, sliding them around to the front and dragging his fingernails up Dean's inner thighs. Seth pressed his weight down on top of Dean, pinning him between him and Roman's lap, and began to murmur suggestively into his ear while still slowly thrusting. "Mmm, God, you're fucking amazing. That ass is so tight, and sooo hot," he breathed, pushing in as far as he could go and holding it there as his fingers made their way up to Dean's chest and rolled his hardening nipples between them.

     In response, Dean groaned loudly and shuddered, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensations. He was sweating profusely, and his cock was leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto the floor in between Roman's legs. "Please, make me cum, I can't take this," he pleaded, desperate to have some semblance of control once again. He started pushing his hips back against Seth's, trying to find the spot that would set him off, but Roman had other ideas.

     "Don't you DARE cum yet, you hear me, slut?" Ro barked, suddenly pulling back on Dean's hair and slapping him across the face. "You cum when I say you can...and IF I say you can, understand? Here, you need something else to focus on," he said as he unzipped his pants and freed his monster cock once again, holding it up in front of Dean's face. "Put this dick in that pretty mouth and suck it."

     Dean did as he was told, eagerly swirling his tongue around the slick head and swallowing an impressive amount of Roman's thick shaft. Ro put his hands on the back of Dean's head and began to move him up and down as Seth resumed pumping from the other end. "That's it. Nice little whore mouth, sucking my dick like that," he encouraged, his own desire now starting to get the best of him as he watched the dirty blonde's mouth sliding over his tingling length. 

     As Seth watched, he couldn't help but start to pound Dean's exceedingly tight asshole, his throbbing cock desperate for release. "Unhhhh God, Mr. Reigns, I don't know if I can hold off much longer. It's sooo fucking tight...I can't..." he whined, driving all the way in and grinding insistently against Dean's prostate, making him gasp and shiver.

     "YESSSS that's it," Dean cried, pulling his mouth off Ro's dick, a glistening thread of saliva still connecting them. "Don't stop...fuck me...I need it." 

     "Oh you do, do you? How bad does the little slut need it?" Roman inquired, giving Dean a couple of hard slaps on the ass with one hand and pushing his mouth back down on his dick with the other. After a few moments, he yanked his head back again, this time bringing their faces close together, lips almost touching. "Unhhh....please. PLEEEASE," Dean begged, eyes wet, shivering even though he was absolutely on fire.

     "Please WHAT?" Roman antagonized, not satisfied with that generic of a response. "You gotta tell me what you need or else I can't give it to you," he purred, a beautifully sadistic smile spreading across his lush mouth. "Tell me what you need."

     A few tense moments passed as Dean stared into Roman's eyes, unable to make any words come out at all. Ashamed, he broke eye contact, gaze dropping back to the floor. Sighing, Roman ran his fingers through Dean's tangled mop of hair, his expression softening somewhat before he looked up at Seth. "You- shut up and keep going until I tell you otherwise, or I will make you very sorry, you got that? You know what I want you to do...so do it."

     Seth swallowed hard, wiping sweat from his forehead. He looked down at what he was doing and gathered as much inner strength as possible to not cum as he continued to pump deeply into that pulsing channel, assaulting Dean's sweet spot with every churn of his hips. "F-Fuck...ok...shit," he rasped, cursing himself for his lack of self-control. Finally, after a few deep breaths and some Zen-like focus, he had backed himself away from the edge enough to be able to give Dean some hard thrusts and get him where Roman wanted him- desperate and on the verge of orgasm. 

     "What do you think now, hmm?" Roman asked as he watched Dean's expression intently. "Know what you need yet? You ready to tell me?" he asked once again. To his surprise, Dean met his gaze, husking out a quiet "yes", mouth hanging slightly open. "I need you." 

     Immediately, Roman put a palm on Seth's chest, pushing him back. "Stop. That's enough. I got it from here, kitten. Nice job though," he teased as Seth whined in frustration. As soon as Seth pulled out, Ro threw Dean up onto the center of the bed and climbed on top of him. 

     As Roman moved over him, Dean could feel the long tendrils of hair tickling his sides, and before he knew it, the Samoan's maddeningly soft tongue was winding it's way up the side of his neck, teeth nipping at his delicate skin. Roman pinned Dean's arms down and began to rub their hard cocks together, rolling his hips and relishing in the contrast of softness and hardness. Dean writhed against the delicious friction, desperately wanting more. 

     "Well what exactly is it that you need from me? If you don't tell me, I can't give it to you," Roman smiled back, knowing he was almost there. "Just say the word and trust me...you'll get it."

     

     

     

The Finger of Blame

     It was already 11:30 at night by the time Roman and Dean remembered they hadn't eaten all day. They had both been so preoccupied with finding Seth since he walked out on them that everything else ended up taking a back seat. Between Dean alternately sobbing and punching things and Roman silently brooding, staring angrily and curling and uncurling his large fist, they had both been on high alert, and it was quickly sapping their energy. 

     Dean was the first one to suggest it, more because he was getting tired of Ro's intimidating silence than anything. "Hey, uh, maybe we should eat something. I mean, I know we've gotta find him, but we can't do much about it right now, he's not answering his phone, nobody else has seen him, so...why don't you cook us some steak or something? Take your mind off it, you know..." he trailed off, waiting for Roman's expression to change. 

     Finally taking his eyes off the middle distance, Roman looked up at Dean from his place sitting on the floor, his back slumped against the wall. "What? Who's got steak?" he asked, perking up suddenly.

     Dean laughed at his friend's distracted mumblings, glad that he could still at least get him to react to the promise of food. "No, dumbshit...you cook the steak. For US. You know, how you're a really good cook and you really like cooking, and I blew up the toaster the last time I tried making a Pop-Tart?" he questioned, walking slowly backward toward the kitchen. "I mean, I can cook if you want...or at least I'll try, but I'm not guaranteeing anything." He hoped Roman wasn't going to call his bluff.

     Ro stood up. "No, no. Please, for the love of God, no. You are not cooking anything. Go sit down somewhere." He quickly shooed Dean away into the living room, already focused completely on his new objective of acquiring and ingesting delicious steak.

    Dean smiled, relieved that Ro appeared to have snapped out of whatever kind of funk he had been in. Plus, now he was getting dinner made for him, which was a definite bonus. "Ok man, I'll just be in here drinking a beer and watching tv, if that's cool," he said, heading that way with an unopened bottle in each hand.

    "Yeah, sure, whatever, I'll let you know when it's done," Roman replied, the sound of knife blades tapping against a cutting board emanating from the kitchen. 

After what seemed to Dean like an eternity, Ro finally called Dean into the kitchen. As always, the table was laid out impeccably, the glistening steak strips artfully arranged on each plate, sliced with the precision of a surgeon. Dean plunked himself down in front of one of the plates, eyeing them both as though trying to decide which looked like the better of the two. "Medium rare, man, really?" he said out loud, annoyed.

    Ro gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and then responded, "I'm not cooking it well done. It ruins the meat. I've told you that a million times." He scowled as he sat down in the other chair across the table. 

     Dean picked up his fork and poked at a piece of meat with a sour expression on his face. "Sorry, but it's fucking gross, man. I can't eat cold meat." He shivered in disgust, setting the fork back down and pouting slightly.

     Slicing aggressively through his steak, Ro hacked off a chunk and stuffed it into his mouth, trying to keep himself from going off on his unwitting friend. He chewed hard for a few moments, then swallowed, but the feeling was still rising from within him. "Fine...don't eat it then," he growled, jaw flexing, eyes fixed on his plate.

     Dean scoffed indignantly, eyes growing wide in shock. "What the hell, man? What the fuck is your problem, anyway? Is it too much to expect steak that's fucking edible, for fuck's sake?"

     Ro clutched his knife in his fist, looking slowly upward. His eyes glowed with resentment and seething anger. "Is it too much to expect some appreciation for the person who went through the trouble to make it?"

     "Yeah...it is too much to expect, because you did that on purpose, you fuck. You knew I wouldn't eat it like that, so you made it that way so you could have all of it to yourself, you fucking jerk!" Dean stood up abruptly, sending the chair tumbling behind him. He knew damn well that he wasn't really mad at Ro, but he was flush with anger and frustration and had no outlet for it. 

     Roman sat unflinchingly, the only detectable movement his ceaselessly tapping foot under the table. He was perilously close to losing control, and Dean seemed to be purposely egging him on. He didn't dare to move for fear of boiling over. In a stern, measured tone, he said quietly, "Dean, please, I'm begging you-"

     "DONT FUCKING BEG ME FOR SHIT, ASSHOLE!!" Dean blurted out, grabbing a piece of meat off his plate and hurling it at Roman. He backed up with his fists raised, ready for a counterattack.

     Ro leaned slightly to the right and calmly caught the meat projectile between his teeth, chewing once and swallowing. He stood up, walked around the table and stood face to face with Dean, both men snarling with pent-up rage. "You wanna go? Huh? You wanna GO?!" He goaded, butting their foreheads together, pushing against him. He could see Dean shaking, eyes pleading even as he stood his ground defiantly.

     "What do you think? You think you can take me or something?"

     Roman smirked in recognition for a moment, then quickly wrapped a hand around Dean's neck and lunged forward, shoving Dean back against the table. When the edge caught him mid-back he crumpled, but Ro easily grabbed him and flipped him face down, bent over the table. He shoved his hand into the back of Dean's head and pinned him down, both men panting and struggling, but Dean quickly gave in to his captor. 

     "I think we both know I can," he bragged, bucking his hard cock against Dean's ass.

     "Fuck you," Dean spat, his breathing labored. "This is all your fault, you know," he accused, not fully in control of the words spilling from his open mouth.

     Ro leaned over him, pressing his chest down on top of Dean's back, hands coming around to the front and roughly unfastening Dean's belt and zipper, grinding his hard-on against rounded ass cheeks. "You ungrateful, selfish prick. You're such a piece of shit," he breathed hotly into Dean's ear, fumbling to pull his pants down past his hips. Once they started to give way, he backed up and yanked them down to knee level.

     Dean gasped as he felt the cool air hit his exposed nether regions, suddenly feeling intensely vulnerable. He felt Roman's hands on his ass, spreading him open, then he felt Ro's soft, wet tongue lapping it's way up. "Fuck," he panted, squirming against the cold tabletop. "Takes one to know one," was all he was able to utter, his mind fragmented between his roiling anger and the hot tongue probing his ass.

     "You're fucking pathetic, you know that?" Ro said, standing up and undoing his pants with one hand while pushing his index finger into Dean's slippery entrance with the other. "If anything, this is all your fault. You drove him away, because you are incapable of putting someone else's needs before your own," he chastised, jamming his finger in harder to emphasize his words. 

     Dean nodded in affirmation, eyes squeezed shut as he reached down to hold his ass cheeks apart. "Yeah...do it," he said breathlessly, anticipating what was about to happen. "Teach me a lesson...make me be good again," he pleaded, pushing back into Ro's crotch.

     "Fucking whore," Ro groaned, sliding his rigid cock into that tight crevice. "You don't even deserve this dick. You're just a fucking joke."

     "I...I know," Dean whimpered, breath hitching as Roman's pole worked its way further inside of him. Hot tears stung his eyes and ran down his face onto the table. "And now he's gone," he sniffed. "I'm so stupid."

     "Yeah, you are," Roman agreed, pushing himself in up to the hilt. He let out a relieved groan, then began pumping in and out, gradually picking up speed as he grew more aroused. "God, you piss me off," he sighed, quickly becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of Dean's slick passage clutching around his thickness. His thrusting rocked the table, the squeaking mingling with the slapping of flesh and heated moans.

     Dean felt like he was going to explode at any moment, his straining cock bouncing against the underside of the table. He tried to move a hand around to stroke himself off, but Roman caught him and pinned both hands behind his back as he continued to pound his ass relentlessly. "If you wanna cum, you better find another way, because you don't even deserve to have that cock touched. You're just lucky you've got this nice little boy pussy, because that's about all you're good for now. Fucking cunt." Roman's breathing was becoming erratic as he plowed that flexing hole, and he knew he was getting close to the edge. He could hear Dean panting beneath him, waiting for the thrust that would put him over.

     Dean looked back, growling, "I hate you sooo fucking much right now."

   Just then, Roman noticed one of the steak knives rattling on the table next to Dean's head. He grabbed Dean's hair and pulled his head up with one hand and grabbed the knife in the other, pressing the serrated blade against Dean's jugular. Leaning down over him again, he growled a reply. "Not as much as I hate you, you piece of fucking garbage. You EVER hurt him again, and I'll slit your worthless fucking throat...you got that?!"

     "Unhh....yessssss," Dean cried as his orgasm overtook him and his untouched cock spurted out his pent-up load. He groaned and shook as he emptied all his frustrations in one great burst onto the kitchen floor under the table.

     As soon as Dean's ass began to spasm, Roman gave a couple more hard thrusts and filled that hot channel with his release, animalistic noises tearing their way out of his mouth. After a few moments, he collapsed onto Dean's back, still catching his breath. He put the knife down and silently put himself back together, leaving Dean bent over the table, his pants down to his knees and a stream of cum slowly dribbling from his ravaged asshole. Ro grabbed Dean's dinner plate and looked down at him, smiling.

     "So, how well done do you want this, anyway? Shoe leather?" he asked, tossing the plate into the microwave. "5 minutes on high ought to do it."