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A Miracles/Supernatural Cross-over Fanfic by Kaija West Pairing: Dean Winchester/Paul Callan Rating: Adult17+ for graphic sexual situations between two males and adult language Author's Notes: Written for Laurel (the webmistress). So the boys and I just want to say Happy Birthday. Dean was a little difficult but we finally got him to behave :D Summary: Paul has a special message for a rabid Dean/Paul 'shipper, and will do whatever it takes to get Dean to deliver that message. Written in role-playing style. "No, I don't wanna read it." "Come on, Dean, it'll just take a second. Please?" "I said no." "It's not that big a deal, just do it already." "Paul, tell me, is one of the side effects of multiple head injuries selective hearing loss? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I told you no more than once now." *Paul gives his best beaten puppy look* *Dean sighs* "Alright fine. Give it here." *mumbles, 'manipulative bastard'* Paul hands Dean the piece of paper. Dean reads it over, a look of confusion coming over his face. Nose scrunched up as he rereads the words, Dean asks, "What the fuck is this?" "It's a birthday present. Now be a good little demon hunter and read it aloud in your sexiest voice." Paul leans back and stretches out on the bed, feeling just a little smug that he's won the battle of wills so easily. "No way, this is stupid," Dean says, tossing the sheet of paper onto the bed. It lands propped against Paul's side, words now upside down. Paul huffs softly, sitting up. "Why is it I can ask you to help me with work and you come running, but you won't do this? I say, 'Hey Dean, it's Paul, I've got a violent ghost with an after death deathgrip that's unbreakable, want to come give me a hand?' and you're all for it, but you won't do this one, simple favor for me?" *Dean rolls his eyes* "Or I call up and just mention that I'm feeling a bit lonely and you ditch your brother in about a half second flat and come racing wherever I am so we can spend the whole night having sex, but ... heaven forbid I ask for one little favor." "Okay, you know what? If I wanted a little bitch fight I'd have just stayed with Sam tonight. I'm not reading your stupid message." Dean plops down on the end of the bed, arms crossed, stubborn and pouting like a little kid. "Dean, you know I can make you do it." "No you can't." "Oh really?" Five minutes later... Paul has Dean wriggling under him - not to get away because if he really wants to, he knows he can flip Paul off of him. No, he's just totally unable to stay still what with Paul's hands and fingers, teeth and tongue, rubbing and pulling, nibbling and sucking. There's those teeth again; he feels them digging just enough, into the side of his neck. He's thankful Paul picked up on his little biting fetish so quickly. Dean closes his eyes in lust as the teeth tighten ever so slightly on just THAT spot below and behind his ear at the same time the grip on his cock tightens. It's just this side of painful, and if he was aware enough to realize he's the one making the delighted whimpering noises, he'd be embarrassed. Paul loves those sounds, feels himself harden fully as the music that is Dean fills his ears and, indirectly, his cock. He runs his free hand up Dean's chest; smooth skin shifts under his fingertips and the hard muscles beneath flex and move - twitching in the most automatic way as Dean is lost in all the sensations. As Paul slowly pumps Dean's cock, he eases off his teeth just enough to open wider before digging back in, feels Dean thrust up into his hand in response. He lets his tongue lick hard against the side of Dean's neck, the skin warm against his mouth. He's teased Dean before about acting immaturely, but he loves that something as basic as giving the guy a hickey can turn big, tough demon hunter into a horny teenager. He loves doing this to him, for him. He loves the results after too. Not that Dean is exactly laying there like a dead fish now. Far from it. His hands are all over Paul, clumsy and almost pawing in desperation. The guy can concentrate and charge on through almost anything with the glaring exception of immanent plane crashes and Paul's mouth on his neck. Paul's not really sure what Dean can do after getting off a plane safely, but he does know the sex is all kinds of amazing after a little neck biting. And if this were a normal day, things would progress directly to that. But today is not a normal day. No, today is a special day. Today is March 2nd, and Paul has Dean right where he wants him. Oh, there will probably be a lot of hot sex later, but right now he has to remember why he started this. "Dean?" Paul asks, finally pulling his mouth away from where he'd been latched on. It takes a couple seconds before Dean blinks his eyes open. Huge, dilated pupils fix on his face. Paul keeps on pumping Dean's cock but lets his free hand come to rest against Dean's chest. "Wha?" Dean finally forces out. "I want you to say it." "Huh?" Dean is as articulate as he can ever be when his dick is anywhere but in his pants. "Say it." "It?" Dean says, reaching behind Paul's neck to pull him down into a kiss, but meets with resistance. "What I wanted you to say earlier," Paul says, by now more than used to the fact that Dean's upstairs brain fled out the window about five minutes ago and will likely be MIA until morning. "That again? Why?" "Because I'm asking nicely," Paul says. He leans down and runs his tongue over Dean's chest, working his way back to that dark red spot he already marked on the side of Dean's neck. He lets just the very tip of his tongue glide over it, just teasing over the skin, whispering lightly. He doesn't miss the shiver of pleasure that makes its way through Dean's whole body. Paul times exactly when he squeezes Dean's cock to coincide perfectly with certain words. Bringing his lips to rest against Dean's ear, he whispers, low and slowly, "Because you love the feel *squeeze* of my tongue *squeeze* and teeth *squeeze* digging into your neck *squeeze* and you want to repay the favor." "Yesssss," Dean hisses out. Still whispering, lips brushing against the sensitive shell of Dean's ear, "Because I'M the one holding your cock in my hand. I'M the one who's going to make you squirm *squeeze and pump* and whimper *pump* and shout *squeeze* and moan *rubs thumb over end* all night, and I'm going to love letting you do the same to me." Paul begins to pump Dean's cock in earnest, feels the thrusts come up to meet his hand. Leaning back a bit, no longer whispering, Paul says, "So I don't think it's a lot to ask that you do this one thing for me." "Okay... okay," Dean agrees, but has a hard time remembering the words on the paper. He's got a fantastic memory for written passages, honed by years of learning and reciting spells on the fly. Funny, when there's a warm hand on his cock, he suddenly has trouble recalling the three little words he'd read only a few minutes ago. The hand on his cock speeds up, knowing exactly how he wants it. When the teeth return to his neck, his brain finally clicks into gear. Thrusting and gasping, Dean manages to get the words out just before he hits orgasm. "Happy Birthday Laaaaaurel! ... GAH!" and he cums. Paul rolls away just enough to prop his head up with his hand and look down at Dean, appreciating his handy work. Wearing his lover's cum on his hand and Dean's stolen, smug smirk on his face, Paul says, "See, that wasn't that hard after all, now was it?" Dean shakes his head, still coming down, and he's not at all upset that he just got played - best loss he's ever experienced. "No, it wasn't that hard," he concedes. Looking pointedly at Paul's crotch, he adds, "But I see something that is. Now come over here so I can take care of that..." End Back to Miracles Stories or Back to Brokeback Mothman |