Chapter 3 – Ah, so you've joined me in the gutter yet again. You know, I could throw some plot in among all this at some point. Well, maybe if I get desperate.
Dean sat across from Frankie in a small booth in a crowded restaurant. Every-freaking-body here seemed to know Frankie. Now he got why Frankie insisted on coming here. A guy paused by their table to eye Dean before walking off without saying anything. The second time it happened, Dean got Frankie's attention.
"What was that?" he asked, pointing out the guy.
Frankie made a face. "Oh, that's Jake. We dated for a few months." He shrugged. "Control freak. Life's too short for that shit."
"Want me to kick his ass for you?" Dean offered.
Frankie laughed. "That isn't why I brought you here. Just sit there, look gorgeous and with me. I'll be the talk of the town for months."
Dean chuckled at that. Frankie stroked his ego something fierce, along with other things. "Yeah, whatever."
Lunch lasted pretty damn close to forever, but Dean didn't have any place to be. He waited patiently, making small talk with some of Frankie's friends who came by out of curiosity. It was pretty obvious, too. Apparently Frankie had been out of circulation for a while. From the tidbits he gathered from the friends, Frankie hadn't dated anyone since the control freak. That was kind of concerning. Frankie couldn't expect an actual relationship here. He already tried that with Cassie, with horrific results. Dean wasn't ready to take that plunge again. Frankie already was so open-minded about his... gender... Dean couldn't risk driving him off with hunting. That topic could wait – maybe forever. Then again, maybe it wasn't the hunting that had Cassie freaked, even though she said she didn't mind his gender.
They didn't go to the duck pond. Water. Birds. Big deal. Dean did talk Frankie into renting some of his favorite movies, and it turned out they had similar tastes. That or Frankie was lying in order to make him feel better. Dean would take what he could get.
It was weird. Everyone in this town really thought he was gay and it wasn't a problem, maybe because he was with Frankie. The guy was unbelievably popular. The whole town knew him by first name. Dean even let Frankie grope his ass as they walked down the sidewalk, and he wasn't embarrassed. A girl caught them, laughed as she told Frankie to get a room.
"That's where we're headed, darlin'," Dean assured her with a wink. Her cheeks flushed bright red and she hurried off.
Frankie checked his watch. "If my calculations are correct, we have four hours before one of my roommates gets off work. The other one is probably out partying already and won't be home for hours, or Monday if his girlfriend is off this weekend too."
"Why, are you implying something?" Dean asked, starting the car.
Frankie shook his head. "If that sounded like just an implication, I was doing it wrong."
One of Frankie's big hands rubbed at the denim between his legs and warm, wet lips pressed against his jaw near the ear. Oh yeah.
"Keep that up and we won't make it to the house," Dean threatened as he pulled on to the street. "Not to mention the traffic hazard we'd make."
Frankie moved away, but the hand didn't. It stroked the inside of his thigh, stopping occasionally to squeeze gently. Dean growled, eyes trying to pick out some place that might be secluded.
"We're nearly there," Frankie said. "Ever had a hand job while you're driving?"
Dean shrugged. "Sure. Hasn't everyone?"
"Wrong hand job," Frankie said.
Dean swallowed hard as Frankie undid the snap on his jeans. The zipper came down, releasing some of the constraint on his now engorged cock. Frankie's hand, large and yet soft, probably never had a day of manual labor in his life, reached in. He grasped Dean's penis, but only briefly, headed down below. Dean shifted in the seat to give Frankie more room, unable to believe he was allowing this to happen. He had to stop at a red light, which gave Frankie time to slip two fingers inside.
"You're wet," Frankie said, barely audible over the motor. "That's good, right? Means you want me?"
Dean nodded, his breathing changing with the strokes of Frankie's fingertips. When the light turned green, he was trying not to whine.
"You know what I really like?" Frankie asked. He was right next to Dean, their thighs pressed together. Dean shook his head, hoping it was something good. "I like knowing this secret," the fingers thrust deeper, Dean's breathing hitched, "and that no one else does. I like that you're wet for me. And I like that you don't want to control me by forcing me to be on the bottom."
Dean shook his head, those fingers doing things he wanted to finish soon. Where was that damn house? "I don't even do that with chicks, dude."
The fingers stilled for a moment. Dean heard a whine then, but he'd deny it came from him. "That's the only thing I don't like," Frankie said. Then he chuckled. "Well, nobody can be perfect."
The fingers resumed their teasing strokes, causing him to become wetter by the moment. Oh, thank god, there was the house. Dean tore into the driveway, slammed the big car into park. Instead of pulling out, Frankie's fingers sped up their strokes and thrusts. Dean threw his head back, thrusting at the fingers. Frankie chuckled. The other big hand turned his face toward Frankie, hot and heavy kisses pressing down on his face, hungrily eating every square inch of skin available. Then Frankie broke away, diving down at Dean's lap. In the car?
Dean glanced around, worried one of the neighbors might catch them. Then Frankie's mouth was around his penis, which was so engorged now that it ached. That hot mouth and very talented tongue felt so damned good. Dean closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the seat. He ran one hand along Frankie's back until he could bury his fingers in his lover's hair.
He panted harder the closer he was, his fingers tightening in Frankie's hair. His eyelids were squeezed so tight he literally saw starbursts. "Oh...oh...OH!" Again Frankie made him, literally forced him, to orgasm both ways at once. How the hell did he do that? And why? Dean had yet to repay Frankie for all of his undue attentions.
Frankie gently tucked him back in, lips pressed against his throat. "Tell me," Frankie murmured. "When you're with a woman, what's one of the kinkier things you've done?"
Dean's breathing was still heavy. He opened his eyes, Frankie's startling blue eyes focused on him like he was the only thing in the world. "Wall?"
"Wall?" Frankie's head tilted curiously to one side. "What do you mean?"
"I've taken a woman up against the wall," he said, catching his breath.
Frankie's eyes lit up. "I'm game. Come on."
He was out of the car and halfway up the walk before Dean realized what Frankie meant. Dean had to run to catch up with Frankie at the front door, his breathing still heavier than normal. "You're, uh, not serious?"
Frankie grabbed him by the collar, yanking him indoors. Dean kicked off his boots as Frankie pinned him with ferocious kisses up against the entryway wall. His pants were already undone, so Frankie had an easy time shoving them down far enough for Dean to step out. Dean fumbled with Frankie's belt, unaccustomed to dealing with belts and jeans, more at home with bras and garters. After what felt like laborious hours of fumbling, with Frankie attacking his neck the whole time and being just a big-ass distraction in general, Dean managed to open Frankie's pants and push them down.
"Now what?" Frankie asked, breath warm and moist in his ear.
"Pick me up," Dean said. "I need my legs around your waist."
Frankie lifted him so easily Dean was embarrassed. He needed to bulk up more, maybe. With soft words, Dean talked Frankie through sex against the wall. Frankie was a quick study, though. Then Frankie put his own twist on it, leaning back to expose Dean's still limp penis. One hand on Dean's ass, Frankie used the other hand to gather it up and squeeze gently. As gentle up and down motions started, Frankie leaned in again to attack his neck. Dean didn't know how long they were like that, too enveloped in all of the physical sensations assaulting every one of his senses right now. Frankie's heady smell, the feeling of Frankie's mouth on his neck, hand on his cock, and the thick shaft in his vagina, the sight of the sweat rolling off Frankie's temples, the sounds Frankie made as they had sex against the wall, the taste of his mouth when he paused long enough to kiss Dean. It was too much, overloading his brain, reducing him to grunts, groans and moans. Dean tried to return the favors this time, kissing back fervently, nibbling Frankie's earlobe when he could, clenching his vaginal muscles which always caused Frankie to moan. He felt Frankie pulse inside him, growing bigger. Frankie's hand left his penis to brace against the wall. It wouldn't be long now. Dean bore down hard, using his back on the wall to meet Frankie's thrusts. Frankie moaned louder, those weird expressions crossing his face again like this morning. Panting hard, Dean squeezed tight with his legs until Frankie's body, shaft buried deep within him, shuddered. The shuddering pulse did it and Dean gasped as his own orgasm took over. He moaned loud, throwing his head back, colliding with the wall.
Frankie's forehead pressed against Dean's shoulder as he panted heavily. Dean's body shook again with the throes of their passion. Frankie waited until he went still before lowering him from the wall. Dean stood on weak legs, leaning back against the wall. Frankie stroked his cheek and smiled.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Dean couldn't voice his thanks, the depth of his feelings. He leaned into the waiting embrace, hoping his unvoiced emotions would somehow flow through his skin into Frankie.
"Come on," Frankie said, leading him by the hand to the bedroom. They passed the bed, headed straight for the bathroom. Frankie turned on the shower. His pants were hanging loosely on his hips, his spent member hanging limply. He pushed his pants off then pulled his shirt off to toss on the floor. Dean copied Frankie, stripping what was left on his body. Showers could be fun, he knew. Frankie tested the water before stepping in. He held out a hand for Dean. Dean followed, welcoming the warm spray.
Soap and the human body was slick, slippery and damned erotic. Frankie was ripped. Dean's fingertips traced the edges of his muscles, enjoying himself. It wasn't often he got to know a guy this well, one of the drawbacks to living strictly as a guy, not that Dean could do the other. It was nice not to have to pretend, not to worry about after the lights came back on. There were women he had been sure wouldn't understand, so Dean always slipped out in the middle of the night. With a few he thought would at least be kinky enough to go with it he had stayed. Cassie seemed to be understanding, but she also grabbed the first 'problem' she had with him, blew it all out of proportion, and threw him out. One, Lisa, he had spent an amazing week with. Maybe Frankie would be like that, though this guy sounded like he wanted more than just one week. Well, he'd have to see, but at the moment Dean was making plans on passing back by whenever he could.
"I'm thinking about throwing a party tonight," Frankie said as he shut off the water.
"Just to show me off?" Dean asked with a wink.
"Better believe it," Frankie replied seriously. "Folks around here think I'm in a slump." He ran a hand down Dean's wet back, resting it on his ass. "I'd kind of like them to take a look at my current batting average."
Yeah, he could seriously get used to this kind of attention. Dad wouldn't approve, but he wasn't here, so who cared?
Dean sat on the couch sipping beer and watching some game while Frankie called a few dozen people on the phone. There would be some serious partying going on tonight. Finally Frankie crashed on the sofa next to him.
"It's all set. In a couple of hours, we'll need to do some party shopping, but everybody is coming," he said, snagging one of Dean's unopened beers from the coffee table.
"Who's everybody?" Dean asked.
Frankie shrugged. "Everybody. All my friends."
Dean glanced over, a little unnerved by all this. "Uh, okay." He shrugged. If things got too weird, Dean supposed he could just slip outside, take off. Maybe he would park his car down the street for a cleaner get-away.
He felt a warm hand on his neck, fingers running up over his head and back. "Yeah?"
Frankie let one of those huge grins loose. "We do have a couple of hours."
Dean chuckled. "Dude, you're worse than one of those nympho chicks."
"Come on," Frankie said, setting his beer back down. He leaned over, pressing his body against Dean's. "Surely there's something you've done with a woman you've always wanted to experience. Right? Tell me."
"You know," Dean said, voice full of promise, "you've done nothing but pay attention to me so far. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yeah," Frankie said, eyes lighting up. "Strip."
"Huh?" Dean stared back.
Frankie's widest grin to date spread. "Strip for me. I wanna watch you take it all off."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I suppose you want music, too."
"Any kind you like," Frankie promised.
Dean looked around for a music system. "Can you play cassettes?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah," Frankie replied.
"Back in a minute." Dean bolted out the door. He was surprised by how much he was enjoying it here. It wasn't the first time he spent several days with one person, taking basically a sex vacation, but it was the first time with a guy. New experience and he was enjoying himself. Frankie clearly had a seriously kinky side to him. Dean could exploit that. He snagged the tape he wanted before heading back inside.
"Hello!" A woman's voice called out. Dean spun around. An older woman with her hair up in rollers waved at him from next door. Dean glanced around to see if she was trying to get someone's attention. "Hello young man!" she shouted again.
Dean took a hesitant step forward. "Yes, ma'am?"
She beamed at him. "Are you one of Frank's friends?" she asked, motioning to the house.
"Uh, yeah," Dean replied, shifting one foot uneasily. "Just staying over for a couple of days."
She winked at him. "Good for him. You're cute."
Dean watched in amazement as the woman headed back into her house. "I must be in the freaking twilight zone," he mumbled as he headed back inside.
"Get it?" Frankie asked. Dean noticed that the couch had been pushed back to make more floor space and that the stereo system was on.
"You really want to embarrass me, don't you?" he demanded, handing over the tape.
Frankie chuckled. "Specific song you want?" he asked, sounding pretty excited.
Dean motioned to the stereo. "Just pop it in, it's ready to go."
Dean took a deep breath as the song cued up and waited for the opening cords. It started soft and he swayed gently to the music. When the heavy metal sounds crashed through the gentle lead-in, Dean whipped his shirt off, flinging it at Frankie. Frankie had this surprised but delighted expression. He hadn't bothered putting his boots back on yet, so the jeans came off easily. Dean whipped them in a wide arc over his head before allowing them to smash against the far wall. He waited until half the song was over before easing his underwear down. Frankie was practically salivating at this point.
Dean hadn't realized that this little quirk of Frankie's had some affect on him too, but his penis sprang up the instant it was released. He kicked off the underwear, allowing it to land someplace in the corner. Dean moved closer to Frankie, straddling his legs. "How about a lap dance?" he asked suggestively.
Frankie swallowed hard, nodding energetically. Dean slipped further across Frankie's lap. He moved up and down with the music, his dick sometimes in Frankie's face and sometimes low rubbing against his belly. Honestly, Dean didn't see how Frankie maintained this level of control. If their positions had been reversed, he would have tackled Frankie and taken that man on the floor half a song back. Then again, judging by the slack expression on Frankie's face, maybe he wasn't completely in control.
Dean slid back down, sitting lightly on Frankie's lap. He undid the snap and zipper on Frankie's jeans. Standing up slightly, Dean pulled at the denim until Frankie moved, allowing him to pull the fabric down. Yeah, Frankie was really excited. Dean had the evidence now. Hard evidence. He straddled Frankie again, this time positioning himself. Frankie looked up as Dean slid down, taking Frankie into him slowly. He felt Frankie filling him up until he sat fully on Frankie's lap.
"This what you had in mind, darlin'?" he asked in the sexy voice he practiced on waitresses, with lots of success.
Frankie made a grunt that could be taken for 'yes.' Dean chuckled, started moving up and down slowly. Frankie bucked underneath him, wanting more action. Dean shook his head, continuing to set the pace.
"You made me go slow this morning," he said with a wicked grin, "my turn."
Frankie groaned, throwing his head back. Those big hands ran up his thighs to his waist, gripping him and urging him to move. Dean refused to go faster, moving at a maddening slow pace. Sitting up sex was different, and it felt good. He liked that almost pained expression on Frankie's face because he wouldn't speed up. His hands moved around to grab Dean's ass. Yeah, that was nice, kind of erotic, but not good enough.
"Dude, you made me dance. Gonna have to do better than that," he told Frankie, intentionally moving even slower.
Frankie groaned with disappointment, but Dean found that he liked going slow. It was like teasing himself. Going at this pace, he could feel the ridge of the head of Frankie's penis as it slid slowly inside him. He swallowed hard, lifting up just as slowly, experimenting with how much he could feel.
"Wow," he breathed. "That's amazing."
"What?" Frankie asked, hands sliding over his skin again as Dean lowered himself slowly.
When Frankie was fully seated inside him he stopped, meeting Frankie's eyes. "I can feel all that," he said.
"Inside?" Frankie asked. Dean nodded. "So I'm big enough?"
Dean chuckled. "Oh, yeah."
Frankie leaned forward, attacking his neck again. Dean pushed back, forcing Frankie back against the couch. What was that? Curious, Dean leaned back again, pulling Frankie with him, then the other way. Yeah, the penis deep inside didn't seem to move that much, but god it felt good. Locked together like that, they rocked back and forth, back and forth, until Dean was panting. He couldn't control himself again and found that he didn't care. He rocked faster, pulling and pushing them farther. Faster. Frankie's breathing was heavy and hot against his neck as Dean rocked them faster and faster.
That deep feeling, the one Frankie seemed to pull from him so easily, welled up again. Everything he could feel inside pulsed with energy. He dropped his head, still rocking them together, pressing his forehead against Frankie's shoulder. Still the feeling built, the sensations threatened to carry him away. When the pulsing started, Frankie moaned and moved them. Dean found himself on his back, legs still wrapped around Frankie's waist, while the larger man thrust deeply inside. Dean gasped and Frankie chuckled.
"Let's see if I can make you scream again," he said as he pulled out. He thrust again and Dean heard a moan. He really hoped that was Frankie. A few more thrusts and he didn't care who made all that racket as long as Frankie didn't stop. Those freaking hip rolls were driving him crazy, making his insides pulse until he thought he'd lose his mind. Then Frankie sped up, pounding erratically. Finally he felt Frankie climax, his member pulsing deep within.
Frankie's weight was heavy on him. Dean ran his fingers over Frankie's bare, sweaty back. "Looks like we need another shower," he said, chuckling.
Frankie blew out a long breath. His head pressed into Dean's neck, nuzzling him. Dean heard something, but it didn't seem as important as Frankie nuzzling his neck or the warm body pressing down on him. There was a sharp gasp and Frankie's head spun in the other direction. A woman stood just inside the den, front door still open, one hand over her mouth.
"Shit," Frankie growled. Dean chuckled from his spot, pinned to the couch.
The woman looked away. "I, uh, came to help with the party. I'll be outside." She scurried out, pulling the door closed behind her.
"Girlfriend?" Dean teased. "Dude, you're in so much trouble."
Frankie pushed up, his lower body still keeping Dean pinned. "My sister. And yeah, I am."
He leaned down to capture Dean in one of those heady kisses that had him forgetting about everything outside of a two foot radius of their bodies. Then Frankie broke away, lifted off, and pulled his limp cock out.
"I want to do that again before I leave," Dean said, one hand grasping Frankie's ass.
Frankie grinned, leaned back down briefly to kiss and lightly bite at Dean's neck. "Anything you say," he murmured against Dean's skin.
Frankie stood, gathering his clothes. As he pulled his pants back on, he gave Dean an intense look. "Can you do a favor for me? It's probably a really big one for you."
Dean crooked an eyebrow at him. Frankie finally asks for something for himself. "What is it?"
Frankie glanced back at the front door, pulling on his shirt. "Well," he swallowed hard, turning back to face Dean, still naked on the couch. "Can you pretend to just be with me? I mean, you know, don't seriously flirt with anyone at the party?"
"You mean don't be a slut and embarrass you in front of everyone you know?" Dean said lightly. "Yeah, I can do that. That it?"
Pink spots appeared high on Frankie's cheeks. "Well, it would be nice if I could, uh..."
Dean gave him a wide grin. "Pinch my ass?" He shrugged, standing to face his new lover. "Dude, for that kind of sex, I'll tell everyone you're some kind of sex god and that nobody else could come close."
"Uh, don't overdo it," Frankie warned. "And can you get dressed before my sister comes back inside?"
Dean shrugged, started gathering his clothes. He couldn't find his underwear, so he headed back to Frankie's room for another pair. When he came out, he found Frankie sitting on the couch talking with a woman who was probably a few years older than Frankie.
"Hi," he said, sitting in an easy chair next to the couch.
"Lisa, this is Dean," Frankie introduced them.
Dean grinned and winked at her as he shook her hand. "I think we already met."
Her whole face flushed red. "Oh, I, uh..." She turned to shake a finger at Frankie. "Frank, you should lock your door!"
"Sorry," he said, though he didn't really sound it.
"I'm going to grab a beer. Lisa?" Dean asked, pushing up to a stand. She shook her head. "Frankie?"
"Uh, sure. Thanks."
Dean went to the kitchen. The house was quiet enough he could still hear their conversation.
"Did he call you Frankie?" Lisa demanded.
Dean snagged two beers out of the fridge.
"Yeah. So?" Frankie said.
"You don't let anyone call you that," Lisa snapped. "Why are you letting him?"
Frankie replied, "Are you kidding? Did you get a good look at him?"
Dean paused before heading out of the kitchen. This was getting good.
"Yeah, I saw him. So what?"
"So what?" Frankie asked. "Seriously? He's gorgeous. I'd let him call me Betty if he wanted."
"Frank, don't be a doormat," Lisa said in a commanding older sister voice. Dean recognized the pattern. "You don't want another Jake."
"He's not like that, Lisa. I swear," Frankie said.
"How would you know?" she demanded. "You just met."
Dean cleared his throat before entering the den. He handed Frankie the beer. Still standing, he addressed Lisa again. "Sure I can't get you anything? I think I spotted some soda in there."
"No thank you," she said stiffly.
Dean shrugged, retaking his seat in the easy chair. "So do you always come over to help with Frankie's parties?" he asked, popping the cap off his beer bottle.
She gave him a haughty look. "Yes."
Dean nodded. "That's cool. Wish my little brother would invite me to some of his parties. I hear he has some pretty good ones at Stanford."
"Stanford?" she asked.
Dean took a long swig of his beer. "He's the smart one in the family. Got a full ride. Real pretty girlfriend too." He gave Lisa a wink. "Not in your class, of course, but close."
She rolled her eyes. "And why doesn't he invite you?"
Dean downed about half his beer, but they were still waiting for an answer. "Dunno," he finally said. "Sammy and Dad had a huge fight when he left. The last I heard from my brother was him shouting a few profanities at Dad." Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Guess he doesn't want me around." He tried to make it sound like it didn't bother him, even though it did. A lot. And why the hell was he sitting here telling all this crap to perfect strangers.
"So what's the age difference?" he asked. "Between you two?"
Lisa relaxed a little then, telling him about her and Frankie as kids. Dean tagged along on the store run, making sure to pick up some of his favorite party foods. He even paid for as much of the food as Frankie would let him. That seemed to appease Lisa, too.
When they got back to the house, one of the roommates was there. He helped carry in the groceries, really excited to see Lisa.
"Does this mean we're partying tonight?" he asked.
Dean nudged Frankie. He had no idea who this guy was.
"Oh, uh, Steve? Meet Dean. Dean, this is one of my roommates, Steve."
Dean shook the man's hand. "Nice to meet you, Steve."
"Dean, huh?" Steve's eyes darted between him and Frankie. "You here for the party?" he asked.
Dean shook his head. "Nope, just for him." He jerked his head in Frankie's direction. "The party was his idea."
"And he has to stay," Frankie called out as he disappeared into the kitchen, "because he got kicked out of his motel."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Which was your fault," he shouted back.
Steve and Lisa both turned to face him. "How did Frank get you kicked out of your motel?" Lisa asked.
Dean just smiled. "I'll go see if Frankie needs any help in there." He winked at them suggestively as he left the room.
"Don't need any help, do you?" he asked, diving for the fridge and another beer. Dean let out a deep breath as he leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Nah," Frankie said. "You're my guest." He leaned over to give Dean a kiss on the cheek, near his ear. "Special guest." He worked down under the jaw, heading down Dean's neck.
"Keep it up," Dean rumbled, "and they're going to find out how we got kicked out of that motel."
Frankie's chuckle warmed his skin. He pulled away slowly. "Not with my sister in the house."
Dean smiled at him. "Why not? She's already seen my best side." He waggled his eyebrows at Frankie.
Frankie laughed. "You're a nut, you know that?"
Dean leaned back against the counter. "I've been called worse."
Frankie crowded close, pressing Dean right into the counter. "Not around here," he said softly. Those big hands were on his shoulders and the warm mouth on his. Dean closed his eyes, unable to believe he was actually allowing himself to be manhandled like this, or how much he liked it. He tried to set his beer down, but he wasn't sure if it made it. All of his senses were overloaded with pure Frankie, he was all Dean could see or hear or feel.
"I have a pretty good idea how they got kicked out!" Steve's voice was an irritating buzz just on the edge of Dean's consciousness.
Frankie broke away with a sigh. "Roommates can be a pain," he admitted.
Dean chuckled again. "Guess it's a good thing we already took advantage of all that time before anyone showed up, huh?"
One of Frankie's big hands rubbed up his side, under his shirt. "Guess so. I'm regretting the party already, though."
Dean gave Frankie his best grin. "You remember that for next time," he said with a wink.
"Next time?" Frankie smiled. "You're planning on coming back." That talented mouth was on his neck again and Dean let himself go with it. Why would he want to fight this anyway?