AN: WARNING: This chapter contains some "sexual" scenes, which is really non-details masturbation. Yeah. I went there. Hope you like it anyhow! Please let me know if you do~ I really want to hear your opinions on this fic!

Chapter Three

"I'm not quite sure marriage could work for us, caller. I'm fairly certain we've never met, so you have no idea how persistently annoying I can be – also I'm known to be quite a handful in the bedroom, and I don't think you're quite up to that challenge. Alas, it can never be…" The caller's line cuts off before she can rebuke, and Angel's deep, choking laugh rings like music to Dean's ears.

He was sitting up straight on his bed, clutching his phone nervously. Michael was gone as he had suspected, and now he was actually considering ringing in to Angel's show. The number was already sitting on his screen waiting to be dialled, he just had to man-up and do it. That, of course, was easier said than done.

He took a deep calming breath, and finally pressed the button with one shaking finger. He pulled out an earphone and pressed the cell up so he could listen. Heart pumping faster with every ring. In one ear he could hear Angel talking still. And then his voice echoed in the other: "thank-you for calling, little Demon, please hold." He didn't notice, but he was chewing on his lip, and the cracks were beginning to fill with blood. A familiar song began to play while he was on hold. He could barely control his breathing. His stomach was doing flips – why was he so god-damned nervous about this?

"Well, looks like I have another caller, hopefully not asking for my hand in marriage, or my children… hello?"

Oh shit, that was him.

He quickly pulled the other headphone out of his ear and spoke into his cell, his voice a lot more shaky than he wanted it to be, "sorry to disappoint, I was actually going to ask you to marry me as well," he said with a nervous chuckle.

He was floating a little, it seemed so surreal, he couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

"A guy this time? Interesting – at least the children thing is off the table," he paused for a second, maybe in thought, but there was deep amusement in his rough tone, "well, what's your name mystery man?"

Dean swallowed, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he said with more confidence.

"Nice try, let's just stick with 'Angel'."

He raised his eyebrows and retorted, "well in that case, call me 'Demon'."

There was that choked laugh again, it made Dean's toes curl. "Fair enough, Demon. Are you just here to corrupt me, or did you want to ask something?"

He hesitated for a second before he cleared his throat, "I was wondering… why all of the secrecy?"

There was silence on the line, and then finally the sound of Angel breathing out a little shallowly, "you're referring to the fact that no one seems to know my true identity?"

"Pretty much."

"I'm just a radio presenter, Demon, why are you interested to know the intricate details of my life?"

That hit him a little off-guard, but he pressed on, "why do you find it necessary to hide them?"

"Superheroes get a secret identity, why shouldn't I?"

Dean chuckled, "because you don't have any superpowers, and you don't save the world every day." Just me.

"Who's to say I don't?"

"Touché."

"Come on then, tell me, why do you want to know?"

Even though Angel couldn't see it he shrugged, "I think you seem like a cool guy," he cleared his throat again realising how soppy that sounded, but it didn't get any better, "I just think if I knew you in the 'real world' we might have been friends."

"Well Demon, maybe we are and you just don't know it."

Dean chuckled bitterly, "I highly doubt it."

"Why's that?"

"Because I don't have any friends here, Angel."

Silence again, and Dean realised things had gotten a little dark, "at the risk of sounding like an agony aunt, hold fast and you'll find someone eventually. Maybe you actually will run into me some day, and we could well become friends if you're sure it might be possible."

"Maybe," Dean said slowly, and thoughtfully, "sorry."

"Don't apologise little Demon, call again soon. I enjoyed this."

And the line went dead. He hurried to put his headphones back in and listened to the last few minutes of the show. He was still in disbelief. For once he had talked to Angel and the man had talked back – even if the conversation had become a little awkward, he had said everything he wanted to say, he had (for the most part) made a good impression he thought… and thinking back then, he realised that Angel had asked him to call again. That was good, right? Angel never really said that to anyone else who called.

"Thank-you to those who called, and to those who listened idly without taking the time to dial. Demons – and my little Demon – goodnight, and goodbye."

'My little Demon' – was that him?

Dean's breath caught in his throat a little and he smiled as Angel's voice faded to his last song: Foreigner, A Night to Remember. He forced himself not to read into it. It was basically a sex song anyway – why would he want anything to do with that?

When it was over he pulled out his earphones and turned it off, flicking out the light and trying his best to drift off to sleep, but he was still buzzing from how happy Angel had made him.

Dean woke the next morning, immediately recounting what had happened the night before. And what kept rolling around in his head was the fact that one conversation with someone he just wanted to be friends with shouldn't have had such an effect on him. He didn't understand why he got so excited when Angel's show was starting, why his voice sometimes gave him chills, why he was obsessing over him so much – he could only think that it was loneliness, that he felt so isolated and pegged all of his hope around this man that he was just desperate for him.

But then it occurred to him that he had felt like this once before, about a girl in 2nd grade. She had been his first crush he realised a few years later, and he had been totally infatuated with her. Mary had realised this after he spoke about the girl – Cindy – non-stop for days. It was his mum who had taught him that getting her attention with gifts and kindness was a far more successful alternative than pulling pigtails and spitting wads of paper at the back of her head. It was probably Mary's influence that made him so successful with girls now.

University was a whole other ballpark though, the only girls he encountered here were the three on his course, and hitting on them would be in direct violation of his 'keep your head down' rule. And because he had stopped going anywhere, and he had no friends to drag him out, he didn't meet anyone else. He was actually naturally quite introverted and without the support network of friends to impress and later fall back on, he felt a little in deep water.

It didn't make sense for him to be feeling the same way about Angel as he had about Cindy though. Why would he be crushing on a guy? He held no curiosity for men, and outside of a friendship, he wasn't remotely interested in them. He groaned and sat up, pushing the thoughts away – it was too early in the morning to be dealing with such difficult issues.

He made his way to their bathroom, and locked the door behind him. He decided the morning wood had nothing to do with anything. How could it – it was a pretty regular occurrence and talking to Angel definitely was not. Stripping down he decided he could deal with this and shower at the same time.

Touching himself expertly, he summoned one of his favourite fantasies to mind – Princess Leia in her golden bikini with added twin blonde servant girls. The water slapped down on him as he continued his assault and the fantasy progressed. But he just couldn't keep the troubling idea that he might have feelings for Angel out of his head. Setting aside for the moment that he was definitely heterosexual and had no interest in men whatsoever, how could it be that anyone could fall in love with a voice? Though the tone was so rich and deep, as gruff as gravel in a cement mixer but so smooth and flowing that it was like dripping honey…

He lost all ability to think as he came, moaning just a little as he emptied himself against the tiles. He was pressed against the opposite wall, just pulling himself together before his eyes slid open and he realised he had just jerked off to the thought of Angel. Well his voice at least. Was that messed up?

He swallowed hard and distracted himself by cleaning the shower and finally washing himself.

Yeah, that was messed up, and really didn't help his inner turmoil at all.