Wow! Thank you so much for all the feedback! I'm still overwhelmed XD

I'm so happy that you guys like my Dean and Roman and as promised, here we have the second chapter. It might be a bit... surprising. Different. But I hope you'll like this one as much as the first chapter :3

I wish all of you a wonderful New Year's Eve and as we in Germany say 'Einen guten Rutsch!'. I hope all of you will start the new year happily with your families and friends and lots of fun.

Thanks to everyone who gave my stories their attention! See you in 2015!

Love you, guys :)


Roman's gasp of surprise got lost between them. Teeth clicked as Dean used the chance to deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Roman's mouth. This kiss, it was fierce, brutal. Angry.

With another growl Dean pushed against him hard, as if he wanted to shove him right through the wall and it was the moment Roman shook the surprise off. His hands shot up, one twisting in the front of the other man's shirt, the other grabbing a fistful of blond messy locks while finally fighting back. Tongues pushed, slid against each other, spiced with sharp gasps and hisses, with growls slipping past eager lips to flow into the bit of space between them.

Tugging hard at the blond hair, Roman held Dean's head in place as he angled his head so he could ravish, devour the other man's mouth. He pushed away from the wall, moving in on Dean who tried to force him back again. Without success. A hand grabbed the black mane, ripping at it while the other kept digging into Roman's shoulder hard enough to leave bruises.

This was a battle. For dominance. Of power. Of this something that was there, simmering between them when it shouldn't be there at all... this spark of a longing that should never have been felt. It crackled all over his skin, sparking even brighter were Dean touched him... until he burned. And Dean... he burned, too. Hot. Like a wildfire unleashed that set all it touched inflame and it had him rock hard within seconds.

They fought, against each other and maybe against themselves, shoving, ripping, pushing and Dean pressed against him... and it was then that Roman noticed something hard digging into in his hip. There was a hard tug at the collar of his shirt and the sound of tearing fabric. The hand in his hair moved to the back of his head, holding him close. His lungs screamed for air but fuck, he fucking wouldn't break this kiss now. And he moved, forcing Dean backwards step by step until they reached the couch. There was a grunt as Dean tried to shove him away once more, causing them both to lose balance and they fell together, hands holding on to each other tightly and Dean's attempt to roll them over somehow to get the upper hand was stopped as Roman came to lie between his legs, grinding his hips against Dean's. And the low, stuttering groan that ripped from Dean's throat, it tasted delicious and the jolts of heat that shot throughout his body as Dean rolled hips, pressing their cocks against each other, it silenced the last whisper of the voice of reason somewhere in the fog that engulfed his mind.

... more...

There was a buzzing in his ears as his blood pumped through his veins, heavy with that raw craving he harbored for this man, that need that had been unfulfilled for too long. He somehow managed to bring a hand between their bodies and down to free both their cocks while his other found a place under Dean's back to hold the writhing body close. His torn shirt was ripped open further, was pushed out of the way by fingers which hungrily wandered over his skin. A hiss escaped his throat at a sharp pain as Dean bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. He didn't care. For the briefest of moments they both stilled as Roman wrapped his hand around both their lengths, before he began to stroke them fast while thrusting into his own hand and with a mewled fuck Dean bucked hard against him, matching his rhythm. He couldn't think anymore, could only feel. The fire within him, its searing heat, it was devouring him as he quickened the pace even more. There was a dull pain of blunt nails that were raked over his back and lips on his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and teeth grazing over it wandering over to his shoulder.

Closing his eyes, he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, breathed him... tasting the thin sheen of sweat that covered his skin. Their sharp breathing and gasps, shreds of incoherent cursing and moans filled the air around them while Roman's hand pushed them closer and closer to the edge. Dean bucked his hips faster, harder, spurring him on and much too soon the fire, the pleasure that was running through him, spread and crawled up his spine and made his skin prick and the jolts of electricity became too bright, pooling in his stomach. His thrusts grew shallow and erratic as he felt the familiar tightening of his body like a silent begging to let go and Dean was right there with him. A few lasts strokes and a slight twist of his hand...

With a drawn-out moan Dean came and the feeling of the throbbing flesh in his hand drew Roman over the edge. He thrust down hard, trapping their cocks and his hand between their body, Dean's name a twisted little sound on his lips.

Faintly he felt Dean's arms slip from his back and with a last deep breath of Dean scented air, he braced on his arm to take some weight from the body beneath him. Disorentated seconds. Floating moments as they rode on the waves of the aftermath... and Roman could only, gaze down into those heavily lidded eyes, dazed in contentment, which looked at him yet not, eyes which were almost black and so very, very deep... Leaning in he breathed a kiss to Dean's forehead, running tender fingertips down the side of his face affectionately because he needed to.

And then... it happened. Like a switch being flipped...

Dean's eyes widened and the expression in those blue orbs changed, the dazed contentment morphing to awareness... and then to something that was a frightening mixture of shock and guilt, sadness and anger and it hit Roman with enough force to rob him of his breath and caused his chest to constrict painfully. And for a long second all he could do was stare at the man who was tensing up under him, whose breathing was quickening again. A hard push against his shoulders almost sent him falling from the couch as Dean tried to shove him off, tried to get out from under him, struggling and crawling and bucking to get away but Roman's weight kept him pinned down. It was a sharp pain as Dean clawed at his shoulders that pulled him out of the surprise that had caused him to remain unmoving.

"Get off!" Dean growled, once more rearing up under him.

A quiet yelp passed his lips as the other man grabbed a few strands of his hair, yanking hard at it.

"Dean... Dean, stop!" he grunted as he tried to get a hold on the other man's arms and somehow he managed to close his hands around Dean's wrists, pinning them down to the armrest above them.

Another moment of wild struggling followed, but the fight Dean put up was getting weaker and weaker... until the resistance died away completely.

Quietness. But only briefly.

Then: "Fuck you! Get the fuck off, Reigns!"

Blue eyes bore into grey ones and the anger in them was getting stronger, reaching the quality he's tasted in that first kiss and Roman wanted to ask what the hell was wrong suddenly, but just as he opened his mouth, Dean spoke again.

"This is your fucking fault, Reigns!"

Harsh. Cutting like a rusty knife, maybe because deep down Roman blamed himself for what had just happened. Yet... it wasn't entirely his fault, was it?

"My fault?" he growled back, but it wasn't a much convincing growl to his own ears. "You kissed me, Dean!"

The answer was immediate.

"I didn't want this shit!" the other man spat, winding his hand in the vice grip to get his hands free.

"So what, you accidentally fell on my lips?" Roman huffed, tightening his hold. He wasn't willed to let Dean get away just like that. There was still the question why Dean had kissed him and what this shit now was supposed to mean. "For someone who didn't want this shit you were pretty eagerly fucking my hand! What's your fucking problem, Ambrose?!"

"You! You are my fucking problem, Reigns! You and that fucking photo on your fucking phone!"

"And that gives you the right to jump me like a horny dog with rabies and put the blame on me afterwards?" The words left Roman's mouth as something between a snort and a huff while Dean glared at him sharply, before turning his head to the side, staring into the room. Actually Roman wasn't sure how to react to this at all and so he blew a helpless little sigh. "Dean... this is ridiculous. We're lying here half naked with cum all over us and you know as well as I do that we both wanted this... somehow." No reaction. Dean didn't look back at him. "Dean, come on, look at me."

Still... nothing. Dean stubbornly refused to meet his gaze but this was not the Dean he knew, practically retreating instead of facing the problem. If problem was the right term.

His head was spinning, his thoughts whirling because only a few minutes ago his best hidden secret had been revealed, leaving him scared that he would lose his best friend and now he was being the voice of reason...?

Hesitantly Roman let go of the other man's wrist, shifting a little to make breathing easier for him and he almost expected a punch or to be pushed away, but Dean barely moved, only brought his arms down, opening and closing his hands a little. And Roman immediately felt sorry for having held so tight that the blood circulation had been cut off. Obviously.

"I'm sorry," he said just above a whisper, gently smoothing a hand over one of the bruised wrists. All he got though was a slight and tiny twitching around tense lips. "Dean... please... look at me..." he added as quietly as he brought a hand to Dean's face, gently cupping the stubbled jaw to make him look at him again.

Eventually Dean gave in, wary blue eyes gingerly meeting worried grey ones and Roman watched brows furrow in... sadness? Sorrow? It pained Roman to see it because never before had his friend looked at him like this... because of him.

A soft pressure on his chest again. Dean's hands, once more attempting to make him get off. There was a whispered please. And with a sigh Roman crawled back, giving Dean free who immediately got up, getting himself more or less dressed again before leaving the room.

"Shit," Roman muttered, wiping his unstained hand down his face. "Fuck. Fuck!"

Hell had broken loose, had overrun them and it had left a mess behind. And Roman could still hear its faint thunder echoe in the quietness around him.

At least Dean hadn't told him to go. It was the sound of a running shower that told him where he had retreated to and with another sigh Roman pulled his torn shirt over his head to wipe his hand clean, slipped out of his pants, adjusted his boxers before heading for the bathroom because he also needed a shower. And more important, he needed to talk to Dean about what had happened.

The moment he stepped into the room, Dean was just wrapping a towel around his waist and for a brief moment he froze, not really gazing over to Roman but side-glancing him. His hair was sticking up from being towelled dry and it looked... cute. And Roman's heart jumped a step or two but it stumbled hard as the other man suddenly moved before he could say a word, walking past him without looking at him. Really looking at him.

"You can have the bathrobe," he heard him mumble.

And then Dean was gone again. But still... not one single word that Dean wanted him to go. It was good, wasn't it? It meant that nothing was lost.

The quickest shower in world history later Roman made his way to Dean's bedroom, finding him there standing in the middle of the room with his gaze fixed on a random point on the floor, his arms crossed over his chest in what looked pretty much as if he was hugging himself. And maybe he was. Both their worlds had been shaken tonight, so it wasn't surprising if he needed something to hold on to, even if it was himself.

Roman's heart had begun to run again in nervousness and even a tad fear and he balled his hands to fists as he stood there because they were trembling. His chest tightened. He wanted it to stop. He fucking wanted his heart to slow down and the trembling to stop and his breathing... it shouldn't be that hard to breathe. Drawing air against what felt like a vice grip around his chest he willed his tongue to form the breath he released to words.

"Can we please talk about it?" was what came out, somewhat choked though.

"You got what you wanted," he heard Dean force out. "What's there to talk about?"

"Maybe why you kissed me first?" At that Dean's gaze snapped up to him, sharp and piercing and it left a cut somewhere deep within Roman that his friend looked at him like that. "What? Don't give me that look, you could have stopped it before I had my hand on your dick. You wanted it, too, Dean, you..."

"Yeah! Fuck, yeah, I wanted it, too!" Dean cut him off harshly, his eyes narrowing but there was a shadow of panic and fear lying in them. "Happy now?!"

It made Roman want to pull him into a tight embrace and soothe his troubles away but for once he couldn't do it, knowing that right now he would only make things worse.

"Then why are your freaking on me like that?" he said instead, trying hard to give his voice a calming note. Difficult, since he himself was far from being calm. "I mean, we both wanted it, so..."

"God, Roman, you're my best friend, damnit! You're my goddamn best friend, that's why I fucking freak over this shit! Fuck!"

Instinctively Roman took a step closer. And Dean took a step back. It hurt, like a slap to the face.

"And you're my best friend. What happened... there's nothing bad about it, you know? I don't regret it and I..." Roman fell silent for a brief moment, tasting the words which were lying on his tongue. "I want you. I do for a while now," he said then quietly. "And to be honest, I don't want this to be a fling."

He could see a brief glinting in Dean's eyes as he said this. And once again he couldn't name what it was he saw there.

"Do you love me?" Dean said so very quietly that Roman almost missed it.

"I... yeah. You're my best friend, my brother, of course I do love you," he replied, seeing various expressions fleet over the other man's face.

None of them nameable. And never before had he felt so helpless. He watched as Dean screwed his eyes shut and turned away, dipping his head forward as he brought a hand to the back of his head, his fingers curling into the blond locks. Again his breathing was quickening. He was fighting with himself. Again.

"That's not what I meant," Dean whispered. "Do you..." He stopped. There was a barely audible fuck, nothing more than a breath. Then: "Do you love me?"

A legitimate question given that Roman had a picture of Dean, sleeping, on his phone and after they had just had, well, sex after he'd blurted out that he wanted Dean. And he had been at this point before. Did he love Dean? As his brother, his best friend, yes. As one of the most important persons in his life... yes. But was he in love with Dean...?

"I... I'm not sure," Roman answered hesitantly but truthfully because... maybe he was.

And now that they were here, that it all had been revealed, the thought of them being more than brothers and friends was... it was good.

Dean walked over to the other side of the bed then and sat down on its edge with a heavy sigh, clutching his hands tightly while strictly staring out of the window. But he kept silent. A second. Two. Before Roman climbed onto the bed, sitting there close to the other man.

"Dean, I don't want to lose you as my brother and best friend but I also don't want this to end here. And if this turns out to be more than just a bodily attraction, then I'll happily walk that way with you at my side." Gingerly he scooted closer, settling a hand on the other man's side. There was the tiniest of twitches as he touched him, but Dean didn't move away from this touch. The bare skin was wonderfully soft against his palm and warm. "But if you tell me now that you don't want it, then..."

He trailed off but he didn't need to say it aloud, did he? The message was clear, hanging in the air between them and while he waited for a reaction, he hoped, prayed that Dean wanted this, too. Dean's hands, although clasped tightly, twitched and his shoulders were tensing up, but wasn't he leaning into Roman's hand ever so slightly...?

"Why me?" he heard him ask. And yes, there definitely was a pressure against Roman's palm. His heart... it did a tiny somersault in his chest... "There are countless girls and even guys out there who'd give their fucking right arm to get a piece of you and you..." Again silence for a second or two. Then: "You could have the world... Why me, Rome?"

The odd note of disbelief and uncertainty in the rough voice didn't go unnoticed by Roman. And here he had thought that he'd seen all of Dean's colorful sides, yet it seemed that there had been one more, hidden behind all those others and it was dyed with self-doubt.

"I don't want the world," Roman said hushed. "Compared to you, the world is pale and boring. I don't even know where to begin because... you're like a gem no one wants because it's imperfect but if you really look at it you'll see that it's the most beautiful thing in the world. I see you, Dean, and to me you are that gem. To me you're perfect just the way you are." He inched even closer, shifting until he sat behind Dean, his legs framing him. And Dean didn't move away. Gingerly he wrapped his arms around the other man's chest, pulling him back as there was no resistance. Dean was still breathing quickly and his heart was beating fast, its rushed pounding a faint echo against Roman's palm. "You know me and I know that I can trust you. With you I feel safe and good. When you're not there, I miss you and when I have you around, I don't want you to go." He tightened the embrace a little to underline his words as he continued: "This feels good and it felt so fucking good to kiss you and... I don't give a shit about the world out there, Dean. I want you, all of you..."

Trailing off, he rested his forehead against the back of Dean's head, waiting for him to speak, the brief moment feeling like a goddamn eternity to him.

"I should have never let this happen. I should... I... You need to go..." Dean mumbled eventually in a faraway voice and the color his words wore, their tinge, was odd and forlorn.

But while the words were telling him that he had to go, Dean's hands which closed around his wrists, not to peel his arms off but to pull them tighter around the leaner frame and the body that pressed closer to Roman whispered a different message. And Roman... decided to listen to that whisper that was so much louder that the words in the otherwise reigning quietness.

"Dean..." he breathed, begged even, nuzzling his face against the blond hair.

There was a barely there sound, so quiet that he wasn't sure if it really had been there. That oh so tiny sound... so close to a... sob...?

"Rome, I... I can't lose you, okay? And I know that it will happen if we, you know... if we give in to this now." A short pause. Then: "You know that I'm... difficult. Fuck, what am I telling you here, you've seen my ugly sides often enough. Huh... But the last time I allowed a friendship to become more, I lost that person because after a while they got sick of putting up with me and my... issues. There is a difference between being friends and being in a relationship. Every time I let someone closer, they leave me sooner or later."

Quiet. His voice. Too quiet and much too sober. For a endlessly long second Roman's heart refused to beat. A chill ran down his spine to hear those words and to see Dean so... so fragile...

"You said it yourself, I've seen your ugly sides but I love them just as I love all those other sides of you. It all, it what makes you who you are," Roman said softly. "I know who you are and I'm not gonna leave you. Ever. Whether we go back to being best buddies or if we get out of this as more. I am not gonna leave you."

He would keep this promise, no matter what. Tightening his hold on the other man, Roman held him as close as possible, yet gently, willing all the warmth he felt for Dean into this simple gesture. And Dean sagged a little in his embrace, leaning back against him. His breathing was calming down, Roman noticed, while his mind spun as he tried to process the events of the evening. An evening that had been supposed to be a companionable time together and had turned into a desaster in the blink of an eye... yet it was good that it had happened, wasn't it? The truth had been revealed, had only forged the bond between them stronger.

And suddenly... Dean moved. Roman's arms were lifted off of that body he wanted to hold close and shield from harm and he watched as Dean stood up, turned around to him with an achingly sad expression on his face.

Please don't send me away... Roman thought, wanted to say it but before he could say even one word, Dean climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs and Roman immediately brought his arms back around the other man.

... mine...?

A hand dove in Roman's hair, combed through the velvet strands while the other settled on his shoulder. Blue eyes roamed his face and there was still disbelief lying in them... but the sadness, it faded. Slowly... but steadily.

... mine...

The blue orbs locked gazes with him then, so open and vulnerable and he saw it there, that last bit of innocence, shining in their depths. Beautiful. Precious.

"I don't think that I would ever get over it if I lost you, Rome."

This time it wasn't a whispered but spoken clear and steady, yet the usually low rumbling voice was unfamiliar light and he wondered if Dean had ever shown this side of him to anyone before and the trust he was showing was breathtaking, yet at the same time was almost scary to see him like this, so vulnerable.

Mine.

"Well, since I don't think that I would ever get over losing you, I suggest we simply shouldn't lose each other," he replied, allowing a trace of amusement to lace into it to lighten the mood a little.

A puffed little laughter.

"And you think it's as easy as that?"

"Yup."

"I'll piss you off constantly, you know that."

Shrugging his shoulders, Roman said: "So what? I piss you off on regular basis, too, don't I?"

"And you'll hate me every once in a while."

"Happened before, I'm used to it. But we'll get over it as always and now I'll at least get some hot make up sex afterwards."

Quietness. A smirk on tempting lips.

"You know that I hog blankets," Dean reminded him.

"Oh yeah, I know. You have no idea how often I've spend the night freezing my ass off while sharing a bed with you, do you?" Roman snorted, frowning in slight amusement. "I'll simply hog you, then I'll get my blanket, too."

Dean trailed his index finger down the middle of Roman's chest, but it was the bottom lip that got trapped between his teeth what caught Roman's interest and with a hum he leaned in, hesitantly though, freeing it from its prison with a sweet little kiss.

"I want sex once a day, Reigns," Dean breathed against his lips.

"Only once a day?"

Another tiny kiss. An appreciating, rumbling hum. And Roman could only imagine what this voice would cause in him when he had this man writhing under him, moaning and groaning and...

"At least."

... screaming his name.

"Sounds better to me," Roman mumbled.

"I'm topping."

Dean grinned into the featherlight contact of their lips and Roman couldn't help but smile. It was back, their little alpha male thingy.

"No, Ambrose, I'm topping."

"Uh, nope. I'm topping, Reigns."

Roman laughed softly, shaking his head a little.

"How about we take turns?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow in question.

A pondering quietness followed.

Then: "Mmh, okay."

"Good. You'll beg me to fuck you again anyway when I'm done with you."

"Wow, pretty much bigmouthed, Reigns."

"You know that I'm The Man, Deano."

A soft but surprising smack to his head followed.

"Ugh, don't call me that."

"Dean-ooo."

He watched as the other man wrinkled his nose.

"Ro-Ro."

"Don't Ro-Ro me," Roman grumbled.

"Ro-Ro," Dean grinned. "Ro-Ro-Ro..."

"Ambrose..." he warned, playfull pinching the other man in the side.

"You Deano-ed me first, so fucking stop complaining about being Ro-Ro-ed, Reigns," Dean snorted, resting their foreheads together.

"I don't have a problem with you calling me Ro, just don't Ro-Ro me."

"No Deano, then no Ro-Ro," Dean mumbled, tilting his head a little to brush his lips over Roman's.

"Sounds like a deal."

With that Roman made a kiss out of the featherlight contact, running his tongue over Dean's bottom lip, gently sucking and nibbling at it. Entrance was granted... their tongues meeting half-way for a gentle dance.

The kiss broke eventually and quietness followed, filled with only soft gazes and equally soft smiles and the mood had changed, had become lighter and as corny as it probably sounded, but there was also a fluffy happiness seeping into it. Dean breathed a tiny sigh then, tucking a few strands of the black mane behind Roman's ear. He looked relieved, Roman noticed, as much as Roman himself felt relieved. And maybe he also looked... freed.

"Dean?" he murmured, getting a soft yeah in response. "You haven't seen the picture only just tonight, have you?"

Shaking his head no, Dean sighed: "No. I, uhm... actually I've seen it the last time we've been at the company while you were in the ring. Been waiting for you in your locker room and I, you know, wanted to google something and my phone was in my locker. So I used your phone."

"And you accidently stumbled right into my stored pictures," Roman snorted and it wasn't even a question because it was pretty much possible that Dean had actually taken the wrong turn and thus ended up in the stored pictures instead of the internet browser.

This was Dean 'I think I just deleted the internet' Ambrose after all...

"Uh... yeah..."

"My phone has a code lock," Roman said slowly as the image of Dean, sitting on the couch not long ago while using his phone came back to him.

He hadn't unlocked the phone for Dean.

"Uhm, well... I thought it might be either Seth's date of birth or mine." Dean shot him a smirk. "Pretty cute to use the date of birth of your friends."

His hears heated up for no actual reason, because using the date of birth of a friend was okay, wasn't it? He could have chosen the date of birth of his mother or the date when he signed for the main roster or...

"You know, it was kinda... confusing... to find that pic on your phone," Dean admitted, the smirk being wiped away.

"That why you didn't text me back?" Roman wanted to know, wondering how Dean must've felt, finding an intimate picture like that one on his best friend's phone.

It would have thrown me completely off track if I had been in his situation, Roman thought and because he needed to do it, he brought a hand up to a stubbled cheek and the feeling of the soft roughness against the pad of his thumb as he brushed over it felt wonderful.

"Yes and no," Dean mumbled, turning his face into the touch. "That thing between us... I've felt it, too, Rome. All the time." A kiss was breathed to Roman's palm and that new and intimate and so very soft closeness between them caused warmth to bloom in his chest and in the midst of that warmth there was a spark. It mirrored in those captivating cyan orbs, creating a glow in them. "I fought it down, that feeling, because I couldn't risk losing you and somehow it worked. Until I found the pic. Huh... for the last three days I've tried to get a grip on myself but every single of your messages made me only miss you more and... fuck, it fucking made me want you even more and today I just couldn't stand it any longer. I wanted to see you, Rome. I needed to." Leaning back, Dean slipped his hands under the collar of the bathrobe, pushing the fabric aside. "Then suddenly we're lying there on the floor and for a moment I thought you'd kiss me and... and then you tell me that you want me. I, uh, I think I just, you know, kinda snapped and kissed you..."

Goosebumps ran over Roman's skin as those hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his arms, freeing his upper body from the thick fabric until it pooled around his waist. Blue orbs wandered over his chest and lingered at the black inked art. A finger found to the dark lines, tracing the patterns, while his own hands found back to the other man's body to explore every reachable spot almost shyly.

He knew this body, had seen it naked so often. Had touched it. Yet he didn't know it. This all was new to him, the smoothness of Dean's skin, its well-toned relief. The way those muscles flexed under his palms. And how this tempting body reacted to every single of his touches. And there was so much more.

His musing was interrupted as Dean leaned in to hide his face in the crook of his neck while wrapping his arms around it. With a sigh Dean pressed close, closer, almost as if he wanted to crawl right under Roman's skin.

"Can we stay like this for a little longer, Ro?"

The rough voice was muffled but Roman could clearly hear exhaustion lying in it. Bringing his arms around the leaner frame to hold him safe, he breathed a kiss to Dean's shoulder before resting his chin on it.

"Sure," he said hushed. "As long as you want."

A hum. A content little sound.

Then: "I swear I'll kill you if you tell anyone how fucking pathethic I am, Reigns."

"I won't tell anyone," Roman promised and it was back, that need to step between the world and Dean to protect this precious and so innocent side of him.

And also this infinitely fragile side of a man who did not fear death nor devil...

"Ro?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you wake me with a blow-job? You know, stress relief and stuff," Dean said totally seriously, yet Roman could have sworn that he felt him smile against his skin.

"Stress relief, huh?" he chuckled softly. An affirmative hum was the answer. "Well, in that case I can't say no, can I?"

This time the hum was agreeing.

Then: "Ro?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could... uh... love me?"

Dean's voice sounded... small... and it freed an ache in Roman that was as bitter as it was sweet, but it also brought that warmth along that bloomed in his chest and with it came that spark... or rather... a flame... and it burned bright. And maybe he should have been shocked or at least surprised as the epiphany hit him, but he wasn't. This very moment, it was a piece of perfection.

"Dean, look at me," he demanded softly and as Dean drew back, there was an insecure expression on his face that dimmed a little as Roman brought a hand up, brushing his thumb over his cheek.

"I don't think I could," he said softly. "I think I already do..."

"Good. That's good," Dean whispered, nodding ever so slightly. "Because I think I already do love you, too."

Their words faded off yet lingered in their own little world around them as Dean leaned in again and claimed Roman's mouth. A soft touch of lips... breathless little sounds of happiness as the kiss deepend. It was lazy, that kiss, and it was sweet. Loving. It stole Roman's breath and made him forget about everything but the man he was holding in his arms. Dean's scent in his nostrils and his taste on his tongue. There was a tingling were Dean touched him and there was his warmth under Roman's touch. It made his heart sing. Dean shifted a little and angled his head, deepening the kiss and his pleased hum vibrated throughout Roman, causing a funny feeling in his belly.

Yes, this was a piece of perfection and here he was, holding this imperfect gem that was precious beyond words in his hand... and this gem, it belonged to him now. And he would protect it. Forever.

- End -


Now, this was a little different, wasn't it? Somehow I feel like the toughest guys hide a very vulnerable thing under all those layers of being 'a man', so... for once here we have a rather 'fragile' Dean. Hope you aren't too disappointed now ;3

However... liked it? Tell me :)