Finding terrible movies to watch on Netflix had been a hobby of Dean's for awhile now. Sure, watching something good was nice and all, but finding something terrible to make fun of was more entertaining to him. Of course, there was the risk of choosing something just plain boring, which is what he had done this time. Making fun of the lead actor's terrible attempt at an English accent had gotten old after about twenty five minutes. Now at an hour end, he felt like scooping his eyeballs out of his sockets and throwing himself out the window. Drastic measures sure, but the pain needed to be stopped.

Moving anywhere though was going to be something much easier thought of than done. The bad movie choice combined with being laid out on the bed meant Roman had fallen fast asleep. And not only was he asleep, but he had decided to lay all over Dean while he was at it. He had an arm draped over Dean's stomach while one of his legs was tangled in between both of Dean's. His head rested against Dean's shoulder and he looked so peaceful that Dean didn't have the heart to move him so he could grab the remote that had fallen to the floor. Instead he stayed still, enduring the shitty movie so Roman could catch up on his sleep.

"Fucking lucky I love you," he muttered under his breath. He reached over with the arm Roman wasn't practically laying on to move some of his hair out of his face. His hand lingered afterwards, his fingertips gently tracing over Roman's face. He felt like a complete sap for this. This was the type of shit Roman did to him all the time. Given how much he always grumbled about it, he felt like a hypocrite for doing it now. Yet he couldn't help himself. Sometimes he needed to remind himself that he had Roman. He hadn't fucked this up yet. He had been trying to worry about that less. It had been a couple of months since this had started with them, and Roman showed no signs of getting sick of him. Roman liked being with him. Roman looked at him like he was all special and shit. It was fucking weird, but Dean wasn't going to complain. He didn't have a lot of good things in his life, but he had Roman.

He moved his hand and tried to turn his attention back to the movie. It didn't last long. Without realizing it he fell asleep as well, not waking up until he felt Roman's lips all over his face. "Ugh." He tried to wiggle away, not getting far with Roman's arm locked tightly around him. "Stop it." He cracked an eye open and tried to glare at Roman. "Asshole."

"Me?" Roman pulled his head back just enough to flash Dean his most charming smile. It worked a little too well because Dean felt himself almost melting right on the spot.

"Yeah you." Dean took a glance at the TV and saw that the movie was over. "Why'd you wake me up? You're the one always bitchin' that I don't get enough sleep."

"Yeah I know," Roman admitted. "But we're late for Jimmy and Naomi's party. Jimmy's texting me telling us to get our asses over here."

Dean groaned. He had completely forgotten about that stupid party. "Tell 'em we can't make it."

"What would I tell him if I did?"

"Tell 'em I'm sleeping."

"You know that won't shut him up."

"Tell 'em I'm dead then."

"Not funny." Roman sat up and and rolled off the bed. Dean tried to grab him and make him stop, but he wasn't quite fast enough. "Up. Come on. Please?"

Dean groaned. "Fine." He reluctantly got up, wincing as his knee violently objected to the action. "You owe me though."

Roman smirked. "Don't worry. I know just how to repay you."

Dean had hoped repayment meant sneaking off during the party and receiving a blowjob, but it wasn't meant to be. Repayment tonight meant pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels and sharing it as the festivities went on. Whiskey was always a welcome present in Dean's eyes, and he matched Roman shot for shot. The others weren't quite as amused, mainly due to it leading to Roman's terrible rendition of "We Will Rock You" and Dean karate kicking a lamp into a wall. Jimmy had to drive them home, reading them the riot act the entire time. There was some spiel about not acting like idiots and them paying for the lamp, but Dean wasn't really listening. Roman's hand was on his thigh the whole way, squeezing and inching closer to his crotch. Dean barely fought off the urge to arch into his touch. The only thing stopping him was the fact that he was just sober enough to know that Jimmy would probably crash the car just to make them knock it off.

They were barely back in the house before Roman's hands were on his hips and pulling him in for a kiss. Dean returned it eagerly, his arms wrapping around his his neck. He pressed himself as much as he could against Roman's body, making their attempts to stumble towards the bedroom even harder. They nearly fell down the stairs, Dean just barely managing to catch Roman before he fell backwards and broke his neck. "I got it," Roman tried to insist. He grabbed a hold of the railing to help steady himself. "I got it."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." Roman grabbed Deans hand and lead the rest of the way to the bedroom. They didn't even shut the door behind them. Roman just pushed Dean right up against the wall, devouring his mouth with a greedy kiss. Dean's head felt like it was spinning. He tried to push himself off the wall so they could get to the bed but Roman didn't budge. Instead he just broke the kiss and looked at Dean through half lidded eyes. "Can we try the thing?"

Dean blinked, not understanding what the hell Roman was asking.

"The shit Nikki was talking about."

Oh fuck. That. Dean had been trying not to think about that. Nikki fucking Bella, in all her blunt glory, had given them a pair of silk scarves and said some shit about it being more romantic than handcuffs. Roman had laughed about it while Dean had rolled his eyes. They had done their share of experimenting, but getting tied up hadn't been laid out on the table yet. Dean had hoped Roman would just forget about it. Getting tied up wasn't something he wanted to do. It stirred up memories of shit he tried to make a point of forgetting.

"Dean?"

Dean fidgeted nervously. Roman was just looking at him, waiting for the answer. He needed to say no. Roman wasn't actually the pushy type. Drunk or not, Roman would go with what he said. But the desperate need to appease Roman's desires made him nod instead. The irrational belief that he had to surrender himself just to keep Roman won out. It was stupid. No, it was actually beyond stupid at this point, but stupidity was one of his specialties when he was drunk.

Roman picked him up, placing soft kisses along his neck before depositing him on the bed. Dean watched him stumble to his bag to get the scarves. Dean made a quick mental note to pay one of the other divas to kick Nikki extra hard in the mouth next time they had a match with her before trying to shake his thoughts off all together. No thinking. Thinking was bad. He kicked his shoes and socks off before slipping out of his shirt. His hands started to go for his jeans as Roman joined him on the bed. He immediately yanked him into a kiss, looking to lull himself into relaxing. This was Roman. He was safe with him.

Their clothes ended up mixed up together on the floor. Roman tied his hands up against the headboard, fumbling a bit in his struggle to not tie it too tight. Dean tried to keep his breathing even as he pressed kisses on any part of Roman he could reach. Calm. He had to keep calm. This was Roman. He was safe with him. But repeating that in his head didn't help him feel better. His body still tensed even as Roman started trailing kisses along his neck and collarbone. It's Roman, he reminded himself again. It's Roman. It's Roman it's Roman it's -

Dean's scream was muffled from the sock that had been shoved into his mouth. He tried to pull himself free from the ropes that held him down. There wasn't any success to be found. They were too tight. Or maybe he was just too weak. His head was swimming, his limbs felt shaky and his stomach was churning violently. He was going to get sick. He couldn't get sick. He would choke to death and die if he started now. He whimpered and tried to pull at the ropes again. He didn't know what happened to him. He wasn't feeling well enough to put the pieces together. All he could process was how helpless he was. He couldn't really move. Couldn't really scream. Couldn't do anything except just feel the large, calloused hands running all over him.

Roman's lips trailed lower, moving down across Dean's chest and his stomach. He was too drunk to immediately notice how rigid Dean had become. Dean tried to shake it off. He tried to arch up into the hand that now wrapped itself around his completely soft shaft. But his hips wouldn't really move. His body stayed frozen, his heart pounding and stomach twisting itself into knots. He was going to get sick. God he was going to get so fucking sick.

A large hand slapped him across the face. The beady eyes of his mother's boyfriend glared angrily at him. He was screaming too much for his taste. Dean couldn't help it. Everything hurt too much. He felt so sick, and it all hurt, and he couldn't fucking do anything except try to scream. Not that it even mattered. The only one who maybe who could hear him was his mother, and she wasn't about to do a damn thing about it. The asshole on top of him kept a roof over her head, booze in her fridge and her veins shot up with drugs. She let him get away with absolutely anything if it meant he would stay.

"Dean?" Roman's hand moved away from his dick. His eyes were wide, concern in place of the drunken lust.

Dean grunted. His heart was pounding even harder. His chest felt heavy, making it hard to breathe. He tried to speak, wanting to tell Roman he was fine. That it was nothing to worry about. But he couldn't. The words wouldn't come out. Panic had left him completely mute.

"Fuck!" Roman moved off of him and quickly started trying to untie Dean's wrists. "I'm sorry." His rush hindered his efforts, which made him flustered and clumsy. "I'm sorry." There was that apology again. He didn't even know why he was making it. Dean didn't want to tell him. He had spent way too long burying that shit down. Talking about it made it real once again.

Then again, it was feeling pretty real now, so maybe his strategy hadn't ever been as foolproof as he thought.

"Dean?" Roman watched him slowly sit up. "Can you say something?"

"Something," Dean finally grumbled. He moved off the bed, his legs feeling weak underneath him. He gave himself a moment, making sure he would actually stay up on his own two feet. He went to go grab his clothes, but Roman was already right there, holding them in his hand.

"Dean?" Roman sounded reluctant to even speak. He looked afraid of fucking up more than what he thought he already did. "What -"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Dean didn't make eye contact as he grabbed his clothes and started putting them on. Now that the panic was wearing off, he just felt completely stupid. This had been Roman with him. Roman wasn't like that asshole. He wouldn't have hurt him. "Let's just forget about it, okay?"

Dean's eyes staying down didn't let him see how close Roman was to objecting. He stopped himself though, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder and giving it a squeeze that said okay to that plan.

Three days passed and neither one actually forgot about the incident. It was quite the opposite really. It weighed heavily on their minds, creating a tension between them. Roman wanted to talk about it. He tried to carefully approach the subject several times, but Dean steadfastly avoided it. He knew that he shouldn't. He was shutting Roman out, pushing him away despite that being the last thing he ever wanted to do. But talking about the kind of shit they needed to wasn't something he had ever been good at. Opening up to people had never actually gone well for him. The people he tried to let in always ended up leaving him. It made it hard to want to open up, even if he knew that Roman was different.

Finally though, it was too much to keep tip toeing around it. Dean came back from the gym to find Roman sitting alone in their hotel room. He was on the bed watching TV and he gestured for Dean to come join him. Dean went over and sat down with him, biting his lip as Roman wrapped an arm around him. He knew Roman was going to eventually ask again. He couldn't keep hiding from it, no matter how much he wanted to. He just needed to get it out and then hope they never discussed it again.

"I um...fuck."

Roman frowned. "What?"

Dean rubbed his hands against his legs, trying his best to just back out and say to forget it again. "Mom dated a lot of fucking scumbags. Druggies, pimps, dealers, run of the mill movie cliche woman beating alcoholic assholes - you can name them all and she did them. Anyway, there was uh...there was one that sort of treated her better. He actually paid our rent, kept food in the fridge, didn't beat her up as much. She was crazy about him. But he um...he wasn't totally interested in her."

The look in Roman's eyes told Dean that he was sensing where this was about to go. "Dean..."

"I avoided him a lot." Dean talked faster, knowing he would just lose his nerve if he stopped for too long now. "Wasn't easy. I didn't have anyone else to stay with and the streets were just as bad and shit. But I managed for awhile." His mouth felt dry, and his stomach started twisting uncomfortably. "There was one night though...he got some promotion or whatever at his job. That meant more money, and he took us out to celebrate. It was a nicer place than I had ever been to, and his attention was mostly on Mom, so I like, relaxed you know?" He swallowed hard, his palms sweating now. "He um...he slipped something in my drink without me realizing it. Everything got real fuzzy and shit. When I like, really woke up, he had me fucking tied up on my bed and uh...yeah." He left the rest unsaid. There wasn't a need to go on. He could tell by the look on Roman's face that he got the point.

"That fucking son of a bitch." Roman's growl was low, sounding as dangerous as the blaze in his eyes looked. "I'll kill him."

"You don't even know what he looks like. I don't even know where the fuck he is."

"I'll still kill him." Roman took his arm off of Dean and got off the bed. He began pacing around the room, his fists clenched into tight fists. "Fucking mother fucker...what did your mom say?"

Dean shrugged. "Mom let him do whatever so he wouldn't leave her. That was always how she operated with her boyfriends."

Roman snarled, surely planning her death now too. He stopped suddenly, turning to look back at Dean. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How the fuck was I supposed to just slip that in there? Fucking hell Ro. I've spent the past fourteen years NOT thinking about it. It ain't shit I like bringing up."

The answer went accepted for a moment, but then Roman was right back to asking another one. "Why didn't you just tell me no?"

Dean froze at the question. "What?"

"Why didn't you tell me no? I wouldn't have made you explain yourself." Roman stepped closer to the bed, shaking his head as Dean looked away. "You never tell me no. Anything I want to do you just let me."

"I like the shit you do, so what does it matter?'

"It matters because you didn't like it. You had a full on fucking panic attack. I fucking tied you up against your will like that piece of shit -"

"You couldn't have known, so it's whatever."

"But why didn't you tell me no? Did you think I was gonna get pissed off or something? Did you..." his eyes widened as he pieced something together. "Dean, do you think you gotta let me do whatever so I'll stay?"

Dean didn't answer that. He didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, his silence said everything for him.

"Is that...Dean what the fuck?" A hurt look flashed over Roman's face before he tried to cover it up with anger. Dean had still seen it though, and he felt like a piece of shit for it. "Is that what you fucking think of me? You think I'd just drop you if you didn't make yourself useful or whatever?"

"No. That's not what I think. Not really..."

"Then why -"

"Because I've fucking been wrong, okay?" Dean stood up now, his own hands clenching into fists. "I thought Seth was different too, and then he fucking left."

Roman's expression softened. He went to speak, but Dean was still on too much of a roll to let him get a word in.

"I couldn't lose you. I didn't know what the fuck you wanted from me, but I couldn't fucking lose you, okay?" Dean unclenched his hands and let out a shaky breath. "I wanna be with you, alright? It's not just about making you stay anymore, okay? I...I like this stupid relationship crap now. I normally don't, but I do with you."

Roman grinned now, closing the distance between them so he could wrap his arm around Dean's waist. "I made you like stupid relationship crap? Or are you just finally getting too awful at hiding your softer side?"

"Fuck you Ro." Dean tried to wiggle out of Roman's grip. "I do not have a softer side.

"No?"

"Never." The gentle kiss he placed on Roman's lips made a liar out of him, but having Roman deepen in and hold him more tightly against him made it worth it. when they finally broke apart, Roman rested his forehead against Dean's, giving him a more serious look.

"I'm not going anywhere, you understand me? Not if you tell me no on shit. Not if you piss me off. You're stuck with me, you got it?"

Dean nodded and kissed Roman again. "Yeah. I got it."