Okay, here we have chapter 16, freshly baked and still warm :)))

But: *hands out some tissues* maybe you'll need it. Will be the last time though I'll have to do that (I think ;).

I hope you'll enjoy it!

Dean stilled completely against him, his breathing going shallow for long moments... just like the beating of Roman's heart that faltered in its steps.

He should have kept his damn mouth shut...

"Why would you want to know about the shit that happened in my past?" he heard Dean press out through gritted teeth.

Here we go. Well done, Reigns...

"I just thought that maybe it can help you get over it if you talk about it," he tried to save the situation and prevent another step backwards. "And I want to know everything about you, Dean, because you're important to me, okay?"

A second. Two. Then Dean moved suddenly and briefly Roman was sure that he'd overstepped the line and Dean would leave, but to his surprise and relief he pulled back just far enough to seek his gaze. Blue met grey. Open and unguarded, glassy from lingering tears and brimming with emotions... and so vulnerable... There was something Dean wanted to tell him, he could read it there in the baby blues and he also saw the battle that his friend fought with himself.

Should I say it? Or would it be better to keep it to myself?

Roman had been standing in the midst of such a battle often enough already, knew how it felt. To be torn, unsure... at a loss what was the right thing to do...

He brushed a few stray locks out of Dean's forehead and the spark in the baby blues as his fingers touched Dean's face didn't go unnoticed by him as he murmured: "You don't need to tell me, if you don't want to. It's okay, you know?"

His fingertips travelled down the side of the other man's face in a feather light touch while his eyes roamed the handsome face, taking in the dark shadows of the bruises that, although fading already, stood in a stark contrast to the unharmed skin even in this faint light. Dean turned his face into the contact ever so slightly and once more Roman's heart jumped in happiness and this time he allowed himself not to feel guilty about it because this time it didn't seem to be a seeking of contact in the aftermath of a horrifying nightmare... but an innocent I just want to feel you.

"My past isn't pretty, Ro," he heard him whisper.

There was a tiny twitch around Dean's lips, his eyes. A nervous one.

Cupping the good cheek with his hand, Roman said hushed: "But it's a part of you. You can't rip those pages out of your book but I can help you carry their weight if you let me."

A breathless little laughter left Dean's mouth. A sad glint was there in the blue eyes but there was also a tinge of happiness in them.

"You forgot your cape again, Superman." A smile flashed on his lips but as fast as it had come, it was gone again. The battle was over it seemed. Dean had made a decision. "Ro, I... you know, I can deal with physical pain but..."

... but not with this other kind of pain. Not spoken out aloud but sometimes silence spoke louder that words. And the way Dean was looking at him this very second made it clear that he hadn't meant the emotional abuse he'd suffered in those years with his stepfather.

I'm trusting you. Don't hurt me. Not again.

Craning his neck a bit, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss to Dean's sore cheek.

"I promised you that I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again." Another kiss, this time a little deeper... close to the corner of Dean's mouth. "And I promise that I'm not gonna do anything that could hurt you. Never again."

He felt Dean turn his face into the touch of his lips, just a wee bit but still enough that Roman's lips now hovered over Dean's in an almost but not contact. All it would have taken was to tilt his head a little and close the practically nonexistent space between their lips. But he did not because this was as far from being the right moment as it could have been and so he brought his lips to Dean's temple and left a sweet and loving kiss there.

A touch on the side of his face, light and innocent, still enough to chase a faint shiver down his spine as fingertips brushed down and over his neck as Dean slid further down until he could hide his face in the hollow of Roman's neck again and those fingers which had moved down now found a home on his chest, while his other hand settled on Roman's side. Once again Roman's own hand cupped the back of Dean's head.

"Tell me, Dean," Roman murmured, letting a blond lock glide through his fingers. "No matter what it is. I've got you, okay?"

A shuddering, bitter sigh was breathed into the hollow of Roman's neck and the hand on his chest moved, fingers curling into his shirt. Like so often this night Dean seemed to seek for something to hold on and to underline his own words, Roman held him a bit tighter again.

"Never had a mom, you know? Only a mother," Dean muttered as bitterly and it took Roman a second to understand the nuance in his statement. "Your mom is a mom, Ro. Mine never was. I uh... I've never really had a family, you know? My father he was... he was a bastard... He beat my mother almost every day. Me every now and then. Huh, I guess my mother always had a thing for bastards. She was too weak to stand up for herself and me. I don't think that she ever gave a fuck about me actually. Dunno how often she told me that I am an accident. A mistake. At some point I started to believe her..."

Dean never saw the pained expression that washed over Roman's face as he listened to him, never saw his lips tighten and his brows furrow as he bit back the hot stinging in his eyes but maybe he felt his heartbeat pick up its pace, becoming more heavy as a knot formed in his guts. Dean had only started to tell him about his past and it already made him sick to the guts as he understood that his friend never, not once in his life... had experienced how it felt to be safe... and loved.

Dropping a kiss to the blond hair, Roman breathed: "But you don't believe that now, do you?"

The fingers in his shirt clenched noticeable.

Then, shy almost: "I did... but then Superman came along and told me otherwise..."

Roman smiled softly at this but his smile dropped again as Dean continued.

"My father went to jail when I was nine years old. He uh... he was a dealer, you know? One of his customers tried to steal from him and he shot him." Dean's voice was surprisingly neutral, almost as if he would be telling about an incident he'd heard of and not as if it was his own past he was talking about. "My mother filed for divorce pretty soon afterwards. A week before I turned ten she came home with a guy in tow, telling me that he was her new boyfriend." All the time the hand on his side had been resting there unmoving but now Roman felt the fingers begin to twitch ever so slightly. "He had never been nice. Fucker's been yelling at me from day one but in the beginning he hit me only occasionally..."

Dean shifted a little against him, slid down further until his head was resting on Roman's chest again but not really as if he was trying to find a more comfortable position. Then after a short moment Roman could hear him hum very quietly.

"Dean...?"

Another hum.

Then: "Your heartbeat. I like listening to it. S'is... dunno, s'is calming somehow..." The rough voice was clad in a soft note but that note faded off as he added: "I'm trying, Ro..."

... to tell you all about it. To tell you who I am and where I come from.

I'm trying. Hard.

"I know, Dean. You've got all the time you need and if you rather don't want to talk about it anymore tonight, then we'll stop whenever you say so. Okay?"

A quiet sound caught Roman's attention. It was Dean's foot that was brushing back and forth on the sheets, just as nervously as the fingers on his side were.

Letting his own fingers glide through Dean's hair slowly in an attempt to calm him, he murmured: "And your mother? Didn't she tell him to stop?"

A snort, a bitter one. He felt Dean press his face tighter against his chest.

"Huh, no, she didn't stop him. He beat her, too, you know? I heard them behind the closed door. Do you know how it sounds when someone's being beaten up like that? It's a sharp, cold and wet sounds when someone hits you with an open hand. Dull and thick when it's a fist or a foot. I fucking heard it, Ro. And her. And his angry voice." Tension flooded Dean and for a long moment there was silence, thick and almost palpable. Roman wasn't sure if he'd continue but he wouldn't ask him, because it seemed that there was something lying on Dean's tongue, waiting to be said. No pushing. Instead he kept the calming caress up. Then eventually: "I heard him beat her every fucking night and I heard her cry and... it. He uh... he... took what he wanted..."

Nails scraped forcefully over his sides, maybe even hard enough to leave marks, as Dean curled his fingers to tight fist, holding on to his shirt in a death grip and it almost seemed as if Dean wanted to crawl right under his skin as he pressed impossibly close. And Roman understood...

Good God...

"Did he..." Roman began but suddenly his mouth was so dry that his tongue stuck to its roof. He had to swallow a few times to actually get the question out. "Did he ever touch you like... that...?"

Involuntary he pulled his legs up a little so they were framing the body that was lying between them, his fingers stopping their trails through the blond locks to splay instead and cradle Dean's head again. The lack of response was feeling agonizingly long to him and while he tried to simply wait for an answer without reading things into the quietness, there was this ever present voice in the back of his head that never stopped whispering the worst possible things to him.

"No... he never touched me like that." At that reply he drew a deep breath of relief. At least not that... "You know what I got for my eleventh birthday?" Dean went on. "A broken arm. My stepfather woke me that morning with a hard slap to my face, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me out of the bed." Another moment of silence. Dean's voice sounded strangely detached as he said: "I remember that he yelled something about that she had left the night before and that I smelled alcohol. That fucking bitch left me alone with him. Was the first time he beat me up. The bastard twisted my arm until it broke..."

"And no one cared? I mean, at the hospital or...?" Roman asked, the sickness that was lingering in his guts getting worse with every of Dean's words.

"Huh, yeah, sure. The fucker told them that I got beat up from my way back home from school and I was too scared to tell anyone that he was lying."

Gazing down, he found the baby blues fixed on the window but it seemed that they were staring into his past, not at the world outside and in the dim light he looked even younger, but his past shadowed in his features. A few strands of hair kept falling into his face stubbornly, silently asking to be brushed aside. It was what Roman did, trailing a fingertip over the other man's forehead to wipe them aside. Touching Dean's hair was like an addiction and it also seemed to work soothing on his friend because as his fingers dove back into the unruly locks, Dean closed his eyes and breathed a tiny sigh.

"How often did he lay hands on you?" Roman murmured, his own gaze staying glued to his friend's face as he watched out for signs that it was becoming too much for him to talk about it.

"Once a week. Sometimes twice. And when it was really bad... four or five days in a row. Sometimes he beat me up so badly that I couldn't move or walk for days," Dean stated lowly. "Because he was drunk or someone had pissed him off. Or he did it just because he hated me or for no fucking reason at all. He could have told the youth welfare to find a place in another family for me but the money was too tempting for him."

His shirt though was still trapped by tightly clenched fists and although the foot had stopped its ceaseless back and forth on the sheets, the tension that had held Dean prisoner all the time had become worse. The body in his arms didn't really shiver but it was the closest to describe it. A faint, subliminal kind of shiver, barely noticeable but there as if Dean's body was humming under the tension and Roman's chest constricted painfully because he knew that Dean was suffering and he couldn't take that away from him, couldn't just wipe it away to make him feel better.

"You said that you've tried to run away?"

"Yeah, I fucking tried to run away from the bastard six times but they always found me and brought me back and then it was even worse," he heard him growl weakly. "Tried to get away the first time when I was thirteen. I told them, you know? Fucking told them what he was doing to me but he told them that I was digging for trouble, getting into fights and shit and they believed him. I uhm... huh, I stopped counting how often I've wished I wouldn't wake up anymore but over the years I numbed myself to it all. Blunted, you know? Tried to keep people away from me. The other kids at school started to avoid me or beat me up." Nuzzling his face against Roman's chest, Dean exhaled a heavy breath. "Told you I'm twisted."

"Will you stop saying that? You're not twisted, Dean," Roman chided him softly.

"But I am, Ro. I'm fucking twisted because I have trust issues and when people touch me, I freak out. I don't fucking know how to canalize my friggin' emotions." Defeat was coating the words. "I don't know how to feel half of the time and I can't stop thinking..."

Bringing his hand from Dean's head to the hand on his chest, he gently unfurled the clenched fingers which let go only reluctantly but after a moment Dean's hand was resting flat against the broad chest, covered by Roman's.

"Relax, Dean," he whispered, brushing his thumb back and forth on its back calmingly. "Try to relax, okay? I'm here and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to help you leave your past behind."

Seconds passed in which he listened to Dean's rather tense breathing, watched his right shoulder twitch slightly. His own heart was still beating hard in his chest and the sickness he was feeling just wouldn't go away, probably wouldn't really for a while but in the midst of it all his mind clung to the fact that Dean had told him all this and the chances were good that he could leave it all behind now, could open a drawer somewhere in a dark, dark corner of his memory and put all the shit in there, close it again and lock it so it would stay there.

"Ro?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for not giving up on me when I tried to make you stay away..." Roman felt the hand on his side relax, wander down a bit to where his shirt had slipped up a little. The touch was innocent, still it chased a heavy wave of goosebumps all over his body. "Wasn't easy for me, you know. I didn't really want you to stay away but, uh, I couldn't let you find out and... you know, I never had a friend or someone I could trust and then you come along and... I was afraid that if I give in and you decide that I'm not worth the effort or that I'm too sick, that I wouldn't be able to get back on my feet. S'is funny, isn't it? That after all those years of not having anyone, that I've been afraid to actually have someone..."

"No, it's not. And I'm thankful that you gave me a chance. My parents already took you to their hearts. And I..." Roman said but managed to stop it in the very last moment. He could taste the words on his tongue, bitter-sweet from not being spoken out and while his own heart complained about not allowing the love he felt for Dean to breathe, he noticed how Dean's breath hitched. Not now, not yet. Soon maybe. But he could say again what he'd confessed already, couldn't he? "I want you and I need you. Don't ever doubt that."

At that Dean turned his head, resting his chin on Roman's chest. The nightly light tinted his face in a pale bluish white, highlighting an exhaustion that suddenly showed up in his features, telling Roman that for tonight it was enough. The baby blues though glowed softly. Beautiful…

"Mine."

The word was barely more than a breath as Dean pulled his hand out from under Roman's, reaching up to run a finger along the edge of Roman's jaw before burying his hand in the black mane and although Roman had heard it, it took a moment until it sunk in what Dean had just said. His heart stumbled and picked up its pace again.

"Yeah…" he breathed, willing all the love he felt for this man into the smile that now grew on his lips

A promise.

One that hadn't yet been reciprocated, at least not openly. But it would. Dean would tell him, sooner or later. He'd promised to wait and it was what he would do. They had just started their way and it was a long one, wasn't it? Dean scooted up after a moment until they were eye to eye. Hesitation…?

And Roman's heart skidded to a halt and for blissful seconds the world stopped turning as Dean leaned in… and breathed a kiss to the corner of his mouth…

"I'm tired," Dean stated, a weary smile playing on his lips as he pulled back. "Stay tonight?"

"Okay," was all Roman eventually managed to say, his voice light and breathless, stretching his legs out so Dean could lie down beside him.

Dean had… he had just kissed him.

Warmth bloomed in his chest and a silly grin tugged at his lips because this time it hadn't been an uncertain kinda kiss like something in the disguise of an accidently lips brushing along lips. Dean had kissed him. This had been a kiss. A tiny one though… but definitely… a kiss.

Quietness reigned as they undressed down to their boxers and got comfortable under the duvet, lying there face to face and close.

"Shit, my butt is numb..." Roman snorted because it was numb.

Actually, it felt as if it had died somewhere along the past hours.

The expression that showed up on Dean's face was totally innocent as his hand sneaked out from under the blanket as he asked quietly: "Want me to rub some feeling back into it?"

Don't tempt me like this…

Roman caught the hand, murmuring with a certain regret clinging to it: "Yeah."

With that he lifted it to his mouth and left a kiss on the palm, before lowering their joined hands to the mattress in the bit of space between them where they got trapped as Dean inched close, closer, until he could rest his forehead against Roman's chest and hook a leg behind a thick thigh.

Silence settled over them, yet despite the events of the day it wasn't heavy but relieved in a way. Minutes passed as they lay unmoving and the tension was draining off of Dean, Roman noticed. No more nervous twitching or brushing his foot back and forth. Eventually he felt him shift, felt him turn his face into his neck as the hand was pulled out from under his own. Warm breath fleeted over his the side of his neck. And… there was a touch on his waist, shy at first but then getting firmer as Dean settled his hand there flat against his skin, fingers splaying as it smoothed over to his back… to pull him in…

Mine.

In answer Roman wrapped his arm around the leaner frame, holding him close. Again time passed and eventually he noticed Dean's breathing even out, becoming slow and shallow as his body went slack, sagging against Roman whose cosmos was filled with the warmth of the body that was lying pressed up against him, with the sound of soft breathing and Dean's scent that had become so familiar to him already. He hoped that the nightmare was over now, that the bad things would stop haunting Dean, now that he had let it all out. It was time that Dean's life would become a little perfect world because it was what he deserved.

A soft mumble against his neck... a sigh, the air that was chased over his skin tickling him in the sweetest way.

Hesitantly his heart dared to sing a little as his mind calmed down. Nuzzling his cheek against the blond hair, he let go and his whirling thoughts, they fell silent. The soft breathing sound became barely audible and the rising until only the slow and soft rising and falling of Dean's chest indicated that his friend is breathing at all. And almost as if Dean was pulling his down into sleep with him, he felt a faint tugging as the strain of the day made itself knows, bringing a overwhelming exhaustion along. But now it was okay, wasn't it? To give himself a break?

Sleep flooded him and he drowned in it willingly, the pleasant silence in his head carrying him and Dean… his warmth, his scent… guarding him…

X

A tiny sound of displeasure was uttered against his chest as the alarm went off, calling for Roman to get up and ready for school. After a total of five hours of sleep and the aftereffects of the shock the night before he felt pretty much knocked out. Also, being here with Dean sleeping all over him was heaven. Roman was lying on his back and Dean was more or less lying on him, having a leg thrown over Roman's and an arm wrapped possessively around his middle while his head was tucked under Roman's chin. One hand was holding on to a few strands of the black mane. And Roman? Roman had his arms around his friend to hold him right there, no matter how difficult breathing was under the weight. But not going to school wasn't an option. He trusted his mother to come up here and drag him to school by his ear before he even could put clothes on.

"Gotta get up," he murmured, giving in to the always present urge to touch the other man's hair.

"... stay..." Dean mumbled, not making any attempts to get off of him.

"Can't," he sighed, gently tugging at the unruly mop. "It's only a few hours and you have appointments anyway. C'mon, let go."

For the briefest of moments Dean's hold on him tightened.

"Seth…"

The single word was spoken so quietly that Roman wasn't even sure if Dean had said it at all but the way fingers dug into his side told him that he hadn't just imagined it.

"Not gonna happen again," Roman whispered.

It took a second or two before the hold around his waist loosened again. An unhappy grumble later he was free and watched Dean inch over to the spot where he'd just been lying, curling up to a ball and wrapping himself around a pillow in the process. The blond hair was sticking up like an impossible halo and his face looked relaxed and young and carefree. He looked like a fluffy puppy curled up in a nest out of pillows and duvets.

Too. Cute.

Hunching beside the bed, he gazed at his friend, smiling at the sight. A sleepy blue eye spied at him over the peak of the pillow Dean had his face buried in to the half.

"Try to sleep some more, you've got a few hours left until you'll have to get up," he said softy, brushing the halo back a little. "And if you want, we can pay the Chevy a visit when I get back home, Captain Solo."

Dean hummed approvingly as he snuggled deeper into his nest while Roman pulled the blanket up to his friend's shoulders. Shoulders which would feature some more scars in a few days when the scratches would be healed.

Leaning in, he delivered a kiss to Dean's temple before standing up reluctantly to leave the room...

His shirt stuck to his back where his wet hair had drenched it. The training was over and most of his teammates had left the changing room already. Except him, there were only two others left in here, getting dressed. The whole morning long he'd fought to stay focused, on class, on the training, because although his body was here at school, his thoughts had decided to stay at home with Dean.

Hastily throwing his sports clothes into his bag, he wondered how Dean was feeling. The appointment at the hospital and then giving evidence at the police... being at the police sure hadn't been a pleasant thing yet another step to draw a line under it all. If only he could have been there with him, for him. There was no message on his phone, so nothing bad had happened or else his mother would sure have informed him.

Zipping a side pocket of the bag open to retrieve the key of his car, his eyes caught a hairband in there. One of Seth's he'd helped him out with. Picking the little item up, he looked at it for a second or two, frowning. The mood between them had been subdued today. Not really bad, more… careful. Guilty from Seth's side. At least the talk about what had happened the day before had made them both feel a bit better…

"I'm so sorry, Rome," Seth said for the umpteenth time, still looking at him like a sad puppy.

Ruffling the bicolored hair, Roman sighed: "Will you stop apologizing?"

"But…"

Shaking his head no to cut Seth off, he stated: "We agreed that we're not gonna do that again, right?" A nod. "Good. And Dean and I, we talked things out. Everything will be okay, so no need to apologize yourself to death."

Another nod. And a sigh, this time from Seth.

"Dean is a lucky man," Seth murmured, the brown eyes glowing with an emotion Roman couldn't quite put his finger on. He'd seen it there before and wouldn't put the label LOVE on it, but it was sure more than simple affection. Yet there was something else tinting it. But then Seth blinked, drawing a deep breath while looking over to a group of guys playing basketball. "Do you think he'll need a therapy?"

Roman tilted his head to the side while allowing his eyes to wander over his friend. This short moment of… whatever… resonated in him, definitely, and not for the first time he thought that if he hadn't lost his heart to Dean already, than without a doubt he would have fallen for Seth. Everything about him was perfect. Intelligent, funny and loyal, lovable and it all was wrapped up in a well-toned body, coming along with a pretty face and beautiful big brown eyes. But even if the package was perfect and no matter how much he loved this pretty fawn eyed boy, what he felt for Dean was so very different.

Once more it made him aware that he loved, really loved Dean. What he felt for him was huge, it was glowing and warm, bittersweet. There was the heartbreaking pain of wanting. There was anticipation and the feeling homesick for a place he'd never been to and sparks of a golden something in his very core. And there were so many more good things.

A hand was waved in front of his face, shaking him out of his train of thoughts.

"Earth to Roman? Got lost in your own head, dude?"

"I… uhm, yeah," he chuckled.

"So?"

"Don't know," he replied slowly. He really didn't. He hoped not but it wouldn't be surprising, would it? "He's tough and maybe if he, you know, talks about it with me and my parents, then he'll get through this without a therapy." Seth hummed. "You've been right, by the way," he added smiling.

"With what?"

"Dean's clingy. He slept all over me tonight."

And his smile got wider at the memory of waking up being blanketed by Dean.

"Well, I guess he thinks of you as his possession," Seth snorted, shaking his head lightly.

"Let's be honest, he's right, I am," Roman shrugged.

Folding a leg under himself, Seth leaned back against the backrest of the bench they were sitting on while crossing his arms over his chest. He looked cute, gnawing on his bottom lip like he did right now.

"What do you think how he'll react the next time we meet?"

Seth sounded honestly worried, as if he was afraid that Dean would tell him to fuck off and stay away for good.

"He knows that you're his friend after all. I'm not sure if he'll just be reserved for a while or if he'll snap at you. He sure won't be all sunshine though."

He heard his friend mutter a shit. Reaching over, he put a hand on his thigh and squeezed it gently, reassuringly.

"I'm an idiot," Seth hissed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. "And an asshole…"

Again Roman gave the thigh a squeeze, then lifted his hand to give the other man's beard a fond tug to make him look at him and Seth obeyed and again there was guilt lying in his eyes.

"Then we're both idiots and assholes," Roman said, shooting him a crooked smile.

Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he headed for the exit and as he stepped out into the open, he was bathed in bright sunshine. The ideal day for a trip to the Chevy and maybe spending some time in the yard afterwards with his mom's self-made lemonade and cookies, because after yesterday Dean needed something to cheer him up. Sunshine and things which brought a smile to his face – and the Chevy and the cookies were guaranteed smile-maker – was the exact right medicine. Also he had to make up to Dean. Getting back home quickly to start a relaxed afternoon together was the first step.

The school yard was empty as he crossed it on his way to his car and his mind was back at home with Dean already. A silly smile spread on his lips as he rounded a corner, his eyes searching for his car… and he came to an abrupt halt as a hand closed around his shoulder, spinning him around. A second later a shove sent him against the nearest wall where he hit his head hard. Groaning he blinked at a group of five guys which were moving closer, effectively trapping him against the spot he was in. He'd seen them before.

"You always meet twice, asshole…" chief goon growled as he took a step closer, cracking his knuckles.

Sooo… well. Sunnier times to come in the next chapter :3

Got some words for me?