Reality of a One Night Stand

Chapter Two – Illusions

The soft, silky skin beneath his touch was comforting, an escape from the harsh reality of his life. Sometimes with his work, he wondered if there was any beauty left in the world; it was so easy to get lost in the constant desperate pain of the darkness. When the pressure of his job, his duty, his calling became too much to handle, he found solace in the arms of a willing woman.

Why would that make him a slut? Why couldn't Sam of all people understand his need to escape? After all, Sam was the great escape artist. He had deserted his family and gone halfway across the country to deny his destiny. Why then would he begrudge his brother his refuge?

"Hey, lover. That was one amazing night." The sound of an angel wafted into his thoughts. She sure sounded like an angel, although he had thought differently last night in the throes of passion. He was sure at one point he had picked up the devil in a blue dress, when the heat of their passion ignited his soul.

"Morning. You sleep well?"

"Yeah, once we got around to sleeping." She grinned as she studied his handsome face, circling her fingers on his chest, detailing every muscle with her soft sensuous caress.

"Where did you get all these scars? A body like yours shouldn't be scarred."

Here we go again. Gotta preserve the image. Can't be the perfect pickup guy if you're gonna bleed all over them. Remember they don't want the truth, they can't handle the truth!

"I told you, shrapnel in Afghanistan. Almost bought the farm over there…. twice." Dean smiled, knowing that was always a sure way to get a morning repeat of the night's festivities.

"Oh, my poor hero. Let me see if I can make it better." She cooed, snuggling up to him with renewed passion. She had time for one more quick interaction….

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"You sure you gotta go?" Dean asked, watching her slip her blue silk blouse on over her lacy black bra. Her trim hips were already encased in a skintight, black leather miniskirt, as her long, sexy legs slipped into her heels and she struggled to maintain her balance.

"Yeah, big appointment at 9:00 this morning. You got my number? Give me a call next time you're in town, maybe we could do a repeat?" She smiled before returning to the bed where he still lay, giving him a slow, lingering kiss before turning and running out the door.

The morning after was almost as bad as the night, before he found that willing partner. The emptiness of the motel room, quiet and still with just his thoughts to keep him company, loomed larger than any monster he needed to vanquish. A vast expanse filled only with the thoughts he wasn't in the mood for, not now.

Somehow his thoughts always returned him to places he didn't want to be. Hell, that was the whole purpose of this one night stand, to take him away from unpleasant memories and feelings, yet they always came back to bite him in the ass.

He had tried to explain to Sam that if two consenting adults could find comfort in each other then what was the harm? He had tried to get Sam to loosen up and have some fun with Sarah for his own good, and Sam had accused him of pimping him out. Damn it Sam, when did you become so righteous?

Sam was lucky, he had known real love. He knew what love was and he didn't want to settle for anything less. Dean envied him, was jealous even. After all, he could hardly relate to that. What do I know about love?

He could hardly fool himself into thinking this woman or any of the others, really wanted to know him. This thing wasn't about love or commitment. This was a release, pure and simple. A pressure valve when life became unbearable.

Sam thought he used women. Little did he understand how this all worked. Usually it was the women who scoped him out, making their desires known. The women he picked up usually wanted the same thing: his hot, appealing body next to theirs, a steamy night of passion and sex with no commitments or entanglements. Sometimes that's all he wanted too…, sometimes he ached for more.

He knew the reality was they hardly let him pick them up because they were interested in his mind, his thoughts or his dreams. No, they simply wanted the surface appeal of his body. They wanted the pretty package, and yeah, mainly that package. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he was a whore. The thought of Sam's words made tears well in his eyes, damn it all.

He lay there considering whether it was a blessing or a curse to be this damn desirable. It allowed him the opportunity of escaping his sordid life, yet he was under no illusions they wanted to know him. They didn't want to know the real him, most would run screaming from the room if they had any inkling who Dean Winchester really was. They would freak out if they knew the things he'd seen or what he was capable of doing.

Maybe it was a curse, for as many women as he had bedded, few actually ever saw him. And it hurt to know that. It hurt to know that all these beautiful women who so desperately wanted him in their beds, would never want him in their lives.

And then his thoughts traveled to the one place he had so painstakingly tried to avoid, but would never leave him alone. Cassie. Cassie had proven what he had only suspected before, that he was unlovable, damaged beyond salvage.

Cassie had proven that beyond any doubt. He had let himself love her and look where that got him. He had laid down his protective shield and opened his heart and soul only to be skewered and roasted in the lapping flames of hell.

Sam had been so smug when they went to see Cassie after her father's death. Needling his brother on what his relationship was, on why he had told her the truth. He just kept picking at it until the truth was finally revealed and then the pity in Sam's eyes had made him want to scream from the bitter irony of it all.

He never wanted Sam's sympathy, but he had hoped for his acceptance. A part of him wished his brother would just understand why he engages in casual sex and quit giving him constant grief. The other part was grateful Sam had never experienced these hollow feelings and therefore couldn't comprehend the void in his brother's life and why he would choose to fill it on occasion with one night stands.

He had always wanted the best for Sam. He'd never want Sam to know the emptiness of one night stands. Sam had known love, real passionate 'I can't live without you' love. All Dean had known was 'yes, yes, I love what you do to me with that body of yours' sex.

Dean was very experienced with the physical aspect of making love; the emotional was another story entirely. Cassie had been his one attempt at love and that certainly didn't end well. When they reunited after her dad's death, he again hoped for more, a permanent connection, but she had proclaimed she saw no hope for them. No hope for him.

The final nail in his coffin. The final realization that he was not normal, never would be normal, and didn't fit into respectable society. Not that he ever wanted to be normal or respectable. He just didn't want to be the leper his brother seemed to think he was. He never really cared what regular people thought of him, but what Sam thought had always been of utmost importance. And it hurt to know what he thought of him. How he saw his older brother.

Dean was hardly naïve. He had been doing one night stands long enough to know the patterns. The need grew the greatest when the hole in his life got the biggest. When the emptiness threatened to swallow him whole and make him disappear entirely is when he had to find comfort somewhere to drive it back to a reasonable size.

He'd seen too much in his life to deny it. He could have always chosen the bottle as his release, but the hunter in him knew that was not an option. You always had to be ready for a fight.

So he chose the one night stand: a physical release and a temporary pleasure. An avoidance of the pain that would resurface with the morning light, but at least the dark would be less desperate.

His body's pleasure could fool his mind into thinking he was all right. He could lose himself in the act as he succumbed to the soft, tender flesh and sweet aroma of another lost soul. Two broken souls connecting as one and for one night pretending to be whole.

Reality was just a sunrise away, but this was all he was allowed, so it had to be enough.

TBC

Next chapter the confrontation.

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